_Harper_ I'm tir'd With walking.--Now great Jove confound you, Syrus; _Colman 1768_ I've walk'd, and walk'd, till I'm quite tir'd with walking. --Almighty Jove confound you, Syrus, I say;] SCENE IX. _Enter MICIO._ MICIO. I'll go and let the women know we're ready. DEM. But here he is.--I have long sought you, Micio. MICIO. What now? DEM. I bring you more offenses: great ones; Of that sweet youth---- MICIO. See there! DEM. New; capital! MICIO. Nay, nay, no more! DEM. Ah, you don't know---- MICIO. I do. DEM. O fool, you think I mean the Music-Girl. This is a rape upon a citizen. MICIO. I know it. DEM. How? d'ye know it, and endure it? MICIO. Why not endure it? DEM. Tell me, don't you rave? Don't you go mad? MICIO. No: to be sure I'd rather---- DEM. There's a child born. MICIO. Heav'n bless it! DEM. And the girl Has nothing. MICIO. I have heard so. DEM. And is he To marry her without a fortune? MICIO. Aye. DEM. What's to be done then? MICIO. What the case requires. The girl shall be brought over here. DEM. Oh Jove! Can that be proper? MICIO. What can I do else? DEM. What can you do!--If you're not really griev'd, It were at least your duty to appear so. MICIO. I have contracted the young woman to him: The thing is settled: 'tis their wedding-day: And all their apprehensions I've remov'd. This is still more my duty. DEM. Are you pleas'd then With this adventure, Micio? MICIO. Not at all, If I could help it: now 'tis past all cure, I bear it patiently. The life of man Is like a game at tables. If the cast Which is most necessary be not thrown, That which chance sends you must correct by art. DEM. Oh rare _Corrector!_--By your _art_ no less Than twenty minae have been thrown away On yonder Music-wench; who out of hand, Must be sent packing; if no buyer, gratis. MICIO. Not in the least; nor do I mean to sell her. DEM. What will you do, then? MICIO. Keep her in my house. DEM. Oh Heav'n and earth! a harlot and a wife In the same house! MICIO. Why not? DEM. Have you your wits? MICIO. Truly I think so. DEM. Now, so help me Heav'n, Seeing your folly, I believe you keep her To sing with you. MICIO. Why not? DEM. And the young bride Shall be her pupil? MICIO. To be sure. DEM. And you Dance hand in hand with them? MICIO. Aye. DEM. Aye? MICIO. And you Make one among us too upon occasion. DEM. Ah! are you not asham'd on't? MICIO. Patience, Demea! Lay by your wrath, and seem, as it becomes you, Cheerful and free of heart at your son's wedding. --I'll but speak with the bride and Sostrata, And then return to you immediately. (_Exit._ [Changes: _Harper_ --I'll but speak with the bride and Sostrata _Colman 1768_ --I'll go and warn the bride and Sostrata] SCENE X. _DEMEA alone._