PHOR. Stilpho: Did you know Stilpho, Sir?
DEM. I neither know him, Nor ever had I kinsman of that name.
PHOR. How! are you not asham'd?--But if, poor man, Stilpho had left behind him an estate Of some ten talents----
DEM. Out upon you!
PHOR. Then You would have been the first to trace your line Quite from your grandsire and great grandsire.
DEM. True.
Had I then come, I'd have explain'd at large How she was my relation: so do you!
Say, how is she my kinswoman?
GETA. Well said!
Master, you're right.--Take heed! (_Apart to PHORMIO._)
PHOR. I have explain'd All that most clearly, where I ought, in court.
If it were false, why did not then your son Refute it?
DEM. Do you tell me of my son?
Whose folly can't be spoke of as it ought.
PHOR. But you, who are so wise, go seek the judge: Ask sentence in the self-same cause again: Because you're lord alone, and have alone Pow'r to obtain judgment of the court Twice in one cause.
DEM. Although I have been wrong'd, Yet, rather than engage in litigation, And rather than hear you; as if she were Indeed related to us, as the law Ordains, I'll pay her dowry: take her hence, And with her take five minae.
PHOR. Ha! ha! ha!
A pleasant gentleman!
DEM. Why, what's the matter?
Have I demanded any thing unjust?
Sha'n't I obtain this neither, which is law?
PHOR. Is't even so, Sir?--Like a common harlot, When you've abus'd her, does the law ordain That you should pay her hire and whistle her off?
Or, lest a citizen through poverty Bring shame upon her honor, does it order That she be given to her next of kin To pass her life with him? which you forbid.
DEM. Aye; to her next of kin: But why to us; Or wherefore?
PHOR. Oh! that matter is all settled: Think on't no more.
DEM. Not think on't! I shall think Of nothing else till there's an end of this.
PHOR. Words, words!
DEM. I'll make them good.
PHOR. But, after all, With you I have no business, Demipho!
Your son is cast, not you: for at your age The coupling-time is over.
DEM. Be assur'd That all I've said he says: or I'll forbid Him and this wife of his my house.
GETA. He's angry. (_Apart._)
PHOR. No; you'll think better on't.
DEM. Are you resolv'd, Wretch that you are, to thwart me ev'ry way?
{_PHORMIO and GETA apart._}
PHOR. He fears, though he dissembles.
GETA. Well begun!
PHOR. Well; but what can't be cur'd must be endur'd: 'Twere well, and like yourself, that we were friends.
DEM. I! friend to you? or choose to see or hear you!
PHOR. Do but agree with her, you'll have a girl To comfort your old age. Your years, consider!
DEM. Plague on your comfort! take her to yourself!
PHOR. Ah! don't be angry!
DEM. One word more, I've done.
See that you fetch away this wench, and soon, Or I shall turn her headlong out o'doors.
So much for Phormio!
PHOR. Offer but to touch her In any other manner than beseems A gentlewoman and a citizen, And I shall bring a swinging writ against you.
So much for Demipho!--If I am wanted, I am at home, d'ye hear? (_Apart to GETA._)
GETA. I understand. (_Apart._) (_Exit PHORMIO._
SCENE III.
DEM. With how much care, and what solicitude, My son affects me, with this wretched match Having embroil'd himself and me! nor comes Into my sight, that I might know at least Or what he says, or thinks of this affair.
Go you, and see if he's come home or no.
GETA. I'm gone. (_Exit._
DEM. You see, Sirs, how this matter stands.
What shall I do? Say, Hegio!
HEGIO. Meaning me?
Cratinus, please you, should speak first.
DEM. Say then, Cratinus!