I'll give you still further proof: pretty soon your uncle comes out of the room and leaves the house, and before long he comes back with your father, and they both go in. And now they both say that you may keep her. In short, I was sent to hunt you up and bring you to them. _Ant._ [_all excitement_]. Well, why don't you do it then? What are you waiting for? _Ge._ Come along. _Ant._ O my dear Phormio, good-by! _Pho._ Good-by, my boy. I declare, I'm mighty glad it's turned out well for you. Antipho and Geta hurry away to Demipho's house, while Phormio retires up a convenient alley to await future developments. The only problem now remaining on Phormio's side is how to keep the money that has been given him by the old men, so that Phædria may not be again embarrassed; on the side of the old men the problem is to get back their money. How the poet treats us to the liveliest scene of all after the more important matters have been settled, is now to be seen. Demipho and Chremes come upon the stage, congratulating each other upon the happy turn which their affairs have taken. _Dem._ I ought to thank the gods, as indeed I do, that these matters have turned out so well for us, brother. _Chr._ Isn't she a fine girl, just as I told you? _Dem._ Yes, indeed. But now we must find Phormio as soon as possible, so as to get our six hundred dollars back again before he makes away with it. Phormio now walks across the stage in a lordly way without seeming to see the old men, and goes straight to Demipho's door, upon which he raps loudly and calls to the attendant within: