_Chr._ I do not consider you, sir? In all I have done, I have kept You and your follies in view: considering what you are, I thought you would rather think I considered you too much. I consider you reckless, sir; I consider that you pursue Your pleasure and vulgar tastes. I consider you quite unfit To be trusted with money, and so I have hit on a plan, by which You’ll be, I consider, spared the trouble of managing it; And though not launched on the world as I’d wish to see my son, You’ll be, I consider, ensured from absolute destitution. Unable to leave you my wealth, I turn to those that are next, 1510 To them I do not shrink from entrusting it; and I consider, That at their house, Pamphilus, you will always find at least A refuge, food & clothes, & a roof above your head. _Pam._ Good God! _Chr._ Don’t swear.—’Tis better than that you should be my heir, And Gorgo squander it. Eh, sir? _Pam._ O, I wish I was dead. _Chr._ First learn what ’tis to live: when you know that, if life Displease you still, then wish to die. _Men._ Chremes, allow me To urge you in this. You could not really wish him to go To Persia, say, and forsake you, as Clinia díd mé. _Chr._ Forsake me! why, let him go to perdition for all I care, 1520 Rather than stay at home and drag his father down To beggary with his vices and follies: for if I once Were saddled with his expenses, I guess ’twould come very soon To my using that spade of yours, Menedemus, in good earnest. _Men._ You offered me your advice this morning; now I in turn.... _Chr._ I do not need advice. _Men._ Spoil not so happy a day. _Chr._ I have found a daughter to-day, Menedemus, but lost a son. _Men._ You have lost your daughter to me, let me restore your son. _Sost._ O do forgive him, Chremes; you must. _Chr._ Pray, silence, wife. _Clin._ Me, sir, you cannot blame for taking a brother’s part. 1530 His fault was partly mine: and what was wrongly done Was done in my behalf. _Chr._ No, no, there’s no excuse. _Enter Philolaches as a Persian._ _Men._ Why, here’s our friend the Persian. _Chr._ Pray, sir, what will you? _PHILOLACHES._ I hear you have been enquiring for me in the town. Behold me! _Chr._ I do not want you now: I know, sir, who you are. The game is all played out. We have done with masquerades, And personating others. _Ph._ I may take it then I address Chremes, and not Menedemus? _Chr._ You do, sir; and be so kind As now to restore me the money, which under a false pretence You made me give you to-day. _Ph._ ’Tis not the Persian custom. 1540