_Men._ I have little doubt but that they are revellers, Who knowing what you, Chremes, would call my folly, came To play some practical joke. They said they were Persians? _Chr._ Yes. _Men._ With news of Clinia? _Chr._ Yes. _Men._ This sort of impertinence Provokes me, Chremes; ’tis want of respect. Suppose I am Somewhat old-fashioned, yet to be idly trifled with, In a matter in which I feel so deeply ... _Chr._ Pray heaven you are right. I did suspect them myself at first: but when they spoke ... _Men._ What did they say? _Chr._ I dare not tell you. _Men._ You need not fear. 950 _Chr._ They said your son was dead. They saw him killed by a prince, In a battle at Chrysno ... Chrysno ... _Men._ Chrysnotaparoys? _Chr._ Ha! is it a famous place? _Men._ I never heard of it, Chremes. _Chr._ Then how did you know? _Men._ They were talking together as I came in. _Chr._ That should convince you, and then the dying message he sent. _Men._ What’s that? _Chr._ The tale you know. The old Corinthian widow, Whose daughter he was in love with ... _Men._ Did they say, may I ask, All this in Persian? _Chr._ One did: yes—but I confess, That in spite of a few expressions I was able to understand, 959 I had to trust very much to the one that interpreted. _Men._ But him I should understand? _Chr._ I don’t say but what you might. _Men._ It’s forty years since I was in Persia: but this I know, That is not a Persian dress, and I think I ought to remember At least the sound of the language. If you could find these men And send them to me ... _Chr._ I will. They promised to wait for me. They’re not far off: I’ll fetch them at once. _Men._ Stay! ere you go— I wanted to tell you, Chremes, I have quite made up my mind Concerning the girl: my duty is plain enough. _Chr._ What is it? _Men._ To adopt her: for if my son returns, to find her here 969 Under my care, protected & loved as I shall love her, Will be a bond between us to make him forget the past, My harshness and all; while should he be killed or die abroad,— Which God forbid—or never return, I have then no heir, And the only consolation remaining to me in the world Is the loving her, whom he would have made my daughter, and whom I shall love like him. _Chr._ You won’t. _Men._ Why not?