Which way shall I begin the wretched tale Of my misfortunes, which have fall'n upon me Thus unexpectedly? which even now These very eyes have seen, these ears have heard? And which, discover'd, drove me out o'doors. Cover'd with deep confusion?--For but now As I rush'd in, all anxious for my wife, And thinking to have found her visited, Alas! with a far different complaint; Soon as her women saw me, at first sight Struck and o'erjoy'd, they all exclaim'd, "He's come!" And then as soon each countenance was chang'd, That chance had brought me so unseasonably. Meanwhile one of them ran before, to speak Of my arrival. I, who long'd to see her, Directly follow'd; and no sooner enter'd, Than her disorder was, alas! too plain: For neither had they leisure to disguise it, Nor could she silence the loud cries of travail. Soon as I saw it, "Oh shame, shame!" I cried, And rush'd away in tears and agony, O'erwhelm'd with horror at a stroke so grievous. The mother follows me, and at the threshold Falls on her knees before me all in tears. This touch'd me to the soul. And certainly 'Tis in the very nature of our minds, To rise and fall according to our fortunes. Thus she address'd me.-- "Oh, my Pamphilus, The cause of her removal from your house You've now discover'd. To my virgin-daughter Some unknown villain offer'd violence; And she fled hither to conceal her labor From you and from your family."--Alas! When I but call her earnest prayers to mind, I can not choose but weep.--"Whatever chance," Continued she, "whatever accident, Brought you to-day thus suddenly upon us, By that we both conjure you--if in justice And equity we may--to keep in silence, And cover her distress.--Oh, Pamphilus, If e'er you witness'd her affection for you, By that affection she implores you now Not to refuse us!--for recalling her, Do as your own discretion shall direct. That she's in labor now, or has conceiv'd By any other person, is a secret Known but to you alone. For I've been told, The two first months you had no commerce with her, And it is now the seventh since your union. Your sentiments on this are evident. But now, my Pamphilus, if possible, I'll call it a miscarriage: no one else But will believe, as probable, 'tis yours. The child shall be immediately expos'd. No inconvenience will arise to you; While thus you shall conceal the injury That my poor girl unworthily sustain'd." --I promis'd her; and I will keep my word. But to recall her would be poor indeed: Nor will I do it, though I love her still. And former commerce binds me strongly to her. --I can't but weep, to think how sad and lonely My future life will be.--Oh fickle fortune! How transient are thy smiles!--But I've been school'd To patience by my former hapless passion, Which I subdued by reason: and I'll try By reason to subdue this too.--But yonder Comes Parmeno, I see, with th' other slaves! He must by no means now be present, since To him alone I formerly reveal'd