LACH. 'Twas your fault, Sostrata; your fault alone. You was sole mistress here; and in your care The house, though I had freed you of all other cares. A woman, an old woman too, and quarrel With a green girl! oh shame upon't!--You'll say That 'twas her fault. SOSTRA. Not I indeed, my Laches. LACH. 'Fore Heav'n, I'm glad on't! on my son's account. For as for you, I'm well enough assur'd, No fault can make you worse. SOSTRA. But prithee, husband, How can you tell that her aversion to me Is not a mere pretense, that she may stay The longer with her mother? LACH. No such thing. Was not your visit yesterday a proof, From their denial to admit you to her? SOSTRA. They said she was so sick she could not see me. LACH. Sick of your humors; nothing else, I fancy. And well she might: for there's not one of you But want your sons to take a wife: and that's No sooner over, but the very woman Which, by your instigation, they have married, They, by your instigation, put away. [Changes: _Harper_ You was sole mistress here; and in your care _Colman 1768_ You were sole mistress here; and in your care] SCENE II. _Enter PHIDIPPUS._ PHID. (_to PHILUMENA within_). Although, Philumena, I know my pow'r To force you to comply with my commands; Yet yielding to paternal tenderness, I e'en give way, nor cross your humor. LACH. See, Phidippus in good time! I'll learn from him The cause of this.-- (_Going up to him._) Phidippus, though I own Myself indulgent to my family, Yet my complacency and easiness Runs not to that extreme, that my good-nature Corrupts their morals. Would you act like me, 'Twould be of service to both families. But you, I see, are wholly in their power. PHID. See there! LACH. I waited on you yesterday About your daughter: but I went away No wiser than I came. It is not right, If you would have the alliance last between us, To smother your resentment. If we seem In fault, declare it; that we may refute, Or make amends for our offense: and you Shall carve the satisfaction out yourself. But if her sickness only is the cause Of her remaining in your family, Trust me, Phidippus, but you do me wrong, To doubt her due attendance at my house. For, by the pow'rs of heav'n, I'll not allow That you, although her father, wish her better Than I. I love her on my son's account; To whom, I'm well convinc'd, she is as dear As he is to himself: and I can tell How deeply 'twill affect him, if he knows this. Wherefore I wish she should come home again, Before my son's return. PHID. My good friend Laches, I know your care, and your benevolence; Nor doubt that all is as you say; and hope That you'll believe I wish for her return, So I could but effect it. LACH. What prevents it? Tell me, Phidippus! does she blame her husband?