ANT. (_to himself_). I expect Geta's arrival presently.--But see!
Yonder's my uncle with my father.--Ah!
How do I dread his influence!
GETA. I'll to them.
Oh, good Sir Chremes! (_Going up._)
CHREM. Save you, save you, Geta!
GETA. I'm glad to see you safe arriv'd.
CHREM. I thank you.
GETA. How go affairs?
CHREM. A world of changes here, As usual at first coming home again.
GETA. True. Have you heard of Antipho's affair?
CHREM. The whole.
GETA (_to DEMIPHO_). Did you inform him, Sir?--'Tis monstrous, Chremes, To he so shamefully impos'd upon!
DEM. 'Twas on that point I was just talking with him.
GETA. And I too, having turn'd it in my thoughts, Have found, I think, a remedy.
DEM. How, Geta?
What remedy?
GETA. On leaving you, by chance I met with Phormio.
CHREM. Who is Phormio?
GETA. The girl's solicitor.
CHREM. I understand.
GETA. I thought within myself, "suppose I found him!"
And taking him aside, "Now prithee, Phormio, Why don't you try to settle this affair By fair means rather than by foul?" said I.
"My master is a generous gentleman, And hates to go to law. For I assure you His other friends advis'd him, to a man, To turn this girl directly out o' doors."
ANT. (_behind_). What does he mean? or where will all this end?
GETA. "The law, you think, will give you damages If he attempts to turn her out.--Alas!
He has good counsel upon that.--I' faith, You'll have hot work if you engage with him; He's such an orator!--But ev'n suppose That you should gain your lawsuit, after all The trial is not for his life, but money."
Perceiving him a little wrought upon, And soften'd by this style of talking with him, "Come now," continued I, "we're all alone.
Tell me, what money would you take in hand To drop your lawsuit, take away the girl, And trouble us no farther!"
ANT. (_behind_). Is he mad?
GETA. --"For I am well convinc'd, that if your terms Are not extravagant and wild indeed, My master's such a worthy gentleman, You will not change three words between you."
DEM. Who Commission'd you to say all this?
CHREM. Nay, nay, Nothing could be more happy to effect The point we labor at.
ANT. (_behind_). Undone!
CHREM. (_to GETA_). Go on.
GETA. At first he rav'd.
DEM. Why, what did he demand?
GETA. Too much: as much as came into his head.
CHREM. Well, but the sum?
GETA. He talk'd of a great talent.
DEM. Plague on the rascal! what! has he no shame?
GETA. The very thing I said to him.--"Suppose He was to portion out an only daughter, What could he give her more?--He profits little, Having no daughter of his own; since one Is found to carry off a fortune from him."
--But to be brief, and not to dwell upon All his impertinences, he at last Gave me this final answer.--"From the first, I wish'd," said he, "as was indeed most fit, To wed the daughter of my friend myself.
For I was well aware of her misfortune; That, being poor, she would be rather given In slavery, than wedlock, to the rich.
But I was forc'd, to tell you the plain truth, To take a woman with some little fortune, To pay my debts: and still, if Demipho Is willing to advance as large a sum As I'm to have with one I'm now engag'd to.
There is no wife I'd rather take than her."
ANT. (_behind_). Whether through malice or stupidity, He is rank knave or fool, I can not tell.
DEM. (_to GETA_). What, if he owes his soul?
GETA. "I have a farm,"
Continued he, "that's mortgag'd for ten minae."
DEM. Well, let him take her then: I'll pay the money.
GETA. "A house for ten more."
DEM. Huy! huy! that's too much.
CHREM. No noise! demand those ten of me.
GETA. "My wife Must buy a maid; some little furniture Is also requisite; and some expense To keep our wedding: all these articles,"
Continues he, "we'll reckon at ten minae."
DEM. No; let him bring a thousand writs against me.
I'll give him nothing. What! afford the villain An opportunity to laugh at me?