Scene III.

Davus.

Troth Davus, 'tis high time to look about you; No room for sloth, as far as I can sound The sentiments of our old gentleman About this marriage, which if not fought off, And cunningly, spoils me, or my poor master. I know not what to do; nor can resolve To help the son, or to obey the father. If I desert poor Pamphilus, alas! I tremble for his life; if I assist him, I dread his father's threats: a shrewd old Cuff, Not easily deceiv'd. For first of all, He knows of this amour; and watches me With jealous eyes, lest I devise some trick To break the match. If he discovers it, Woe to poor Davus! nay, if he's inclin'd To punish me, he'll seize on some pretense To throw me into prison, right or wrong. Another mischief too, to make bad worse, This Andrian, wife or mistress, is with child By Pamphilus. And do but mark the height Of their assurance! for 'tis certainly The dotage of mad people, not of lovers. Whate'er she shall bring forth, they have resolv'd To educate: and have among themselves Devis'd the strangest story! that Glycerium Is an Athenian citizen. "There was Once on a time a certain merchant, shipwreck'd Upon the isle of Andros; there he died: And Chrysis' father took this orphan-wreck, Then but an infant, under his protection." Ridiculous! 'tis all romance to me: And yet the story pleases them. And see! Mysis comes forth. But I must to the Forum To look for Pamphilus, for fear his father Should find him first, and take him unawares.