CRA. Me d'ye question?
DEM. You.
CRA. Then I, Whatever steps are best I'd have you take.
Thus it appears to me. Whate'er your son Has in your absence done is null and void, In law and equity.--And so you'll find.
That's my opinion.
DEM. Say now, Hegio!
HEGIO. He has, I think, pronounc'd most learnedly.
But so 'tis: many men, and many minds!
Each has his fancy: Now, in my opinion, Whate'er is done by law can't be undone.
'Tis shameful to attempt it.
DEM. Say you, Crito!
CRITO. The case, I think, asks more deliberation.
'Tis a nice point.
HEGIO. Would you aught else with us?
DEM. You've utter'd oracles. (_Exeunt Lawyers._) I'm more uncertain Now than I was before.
_Re-enter GETA._
GETA. He's not return'd.
DEM. My brother, as I hope, will soon arrive: Whate'er advice he gives me, that I'll follow.
I'll to the Port, and ask when they expect him. (_Exit._
GETA. And I'll go find out Antipho, and tell him All that has pass'd.--But here he comes in time.
SCENE IV.
_Enter at a distance ANTIPHO._
ANT. (_to himself_). Indeed, indeed, my Antipho, You're much to blame, to be so poor in spirit.
What! steal away so guilty-like! and trust Your life and safety to the care of others!
Would they be touch'd more nearly than yourself?
Come what come might of ev'ry thing beside, Could you abandon the dear maid at home?
Could you so far deceive her easy faith, And leave her to misfortune and distress?
Her, who plac'd all her hopes in you alone?
GETA (_coming forward_). I' faith, Sir, we have thought you much to blame For your long absence.----
ANT. You're the very man That I was looking for.
GETA. --But ne'ertheless We've miss'd no opportunity.
ANT. Oh, speak!
How go my fortunes, Geta? has my father Any suspicion that I was in league With Phormio?
GETA. Not a jot.
ANT. And may I hope?
GETA. I don't know.
ANT. Ah!
GETA. Unless that Phaedria Did all he could do for you.----
ANT. Nothing new.
GETA. --And Phormio has on all occasions else.
Prov'd himself a brave fellow.
ANT. What did he?
GETA. Out-swagger'd your hot father.
ANT. Well said, Phormio!
GETA. --I did the best I could too.
ANT. Honest Geta, I am much bounden to you all.
GETA. Thus, Sir, Stand things at present. As yet all is calm.
Your father means to wait your uncle's coming.
ANT. For what?
GETA. For his advice, as he propos'd; By which he will be rul'd in this affair.
ANT. How do I dread my uncle's coming, Geta.
Since by his sentence I must live or die!
GETA. But here comes Phaedria.
ANT. Where?
GETA. From his old school. (_They retire._)
SCENE V.
_Enter, from Dorio's, DORIO, PHaeDRIA following._