Scene IV.

Manent Simo, Davus.

Simo. This too where's he that knows you would not swear Was your contrivance?

Davus. My contrivance! what, Sir?

Simo. While in the house, forsooth, the midwife gave No orders for the Lady in the straw: But having issued forth into the street, Bawls out most lustily to those within. - Oh Davus, am I then so much your scorn? Seem I so proper to be play'd upon, With such a shallow, barefac'd, imposition? You might at least, in reverence, have us'd Some spice of art, wer't only to pretend You fear'd my anger, should I find you out.

Davus. I' faith now he deceives himself, not I. (Aside.)

Simo. Did not I give you warning? threaten too, In case you play'd me false? But all in vain: For what car'd you? - What! think you I believe This story of a child by Pamphilus?

Davus. I see his error: Now I know my game. (Aside.)

Simo. Why don't you answer?

Davus. What! you don't believe it! As if you had not been informed of this? (Archly.)

Simo. Inform'd?

Davus. What then you found it out yourself?

Simo. D'ye laugh at me?

Davus. You must have been inform'd: Or whence this shrewd suspicion?

Simo. Whence! from you: Because I know you.

Davus. Meaning, this was done By my advice?

Simo. Beyond all doubt; I know it:

Davus. You do not know me, Simo. -

Simo. I not know you?

Davus. For if I do but speak, immediately You think yourself impos'd on. -

Simo. Falsely, hey?

Davus. So that I dare not ope my lips before you.

Simo. All that I know is this; that nobody Has been deliver'd here.

Davus. You've found it out? Yet by-and-by they'll bring the bantling here, And lay it at our door. Remember, Sir, I give you warning that will be the case; That you may stand prepar'd, nor after say, 'Twas done by Davus's advice, his tricks! I would fain cure your ill opinion of me.

Simo. But how d'ye know?

Davus. I've heard so, and believe so. Besides a thousand different things concur To lead to this conjecture. First, Glycerium Profess'd herself with child by Pamphilus: That proves a falsehood. Now as she perceives A nuptial preparation at our house, A maid's immediately dispatch'd to bring A midwife to her, and withal a child; You too they will contrive shall see the child, Or else the wedding must proceed.

Simo. How's this? Having discover'd such a plot on foot, Why did you not directly tell my son?

Davus. Who then has drawn him from her but myself? For we all know how much he doted on her: But now he wishes for a wife. In fine, Leave that affair to me; and you meanwhile Pursue, as you've begun, the nuptials; which The Gods, I hope, will prosper!

Simo. Get you in. Wait for me there, and see that you prepare What's requisite.

Exit Davus. He has not wrought upon me To yield implicit credit to his tale, Nor do I know if all he said be true. But, true or false, it matters not: to me My Son's own promise is the main concern. Now to meet Chremes, and to beg his daughter In marriage with my son. If I succeed, What can I rather wish, than to behold Their marriage-rites to-day? For since my son Has given me his word, I've not a doubt, Should he refuse, but I may force him to it: And to my wishes see where Chremes comes.