BYR. Is there no faith in the affairs of men? 'Tis an old saying and a true one too; "Of all mankind each loves himself the best." I've seen the lady; know her beautiful; And therefore sooner pardon Pamphilus, If he had rather win her to his arms, Than yield her to th' embraces of my master. I will go bear these tidings, and receive Much evil treatment for my evil news. (_Exit._ [Changes: _lines taken from 1768 edition_ PAM. Who calls? my father! DAVUS. Well said! SIMO. It is my pleasure ... _as printed in Harper edition_ PAM. Who calls? my father! SIMO. It is my pleasure ...] SCENE VII. _Manent SIMO and DAVUS._ DAVUS. Now he supposes I've some trick in hand, And loiter here to practice it on him! SIMO. Well, what now, Davus? DAVUS. Nothing. SIMO. Nothing, say you? DAVUS. Nothing at all. SIMO. And yet I look'd for something. DAVUS. So, I perceive, you did:--This nettles him. (_Aside._) SIMO. Can you speak truth? DAVUS. Most easily. SIMO. Say then, Is not this wedding irksome to my son, From his adventure with the Andrian? DAVUS. No faith; or if at all, 'twill only be Two or three days' anxiety, you know; Then 'twill be over: for he sees the thing In its true light. SIMO. I praise him for't. DAVUS. While you Restrain'd him not; and while his youth allow'd 'Tis true he lov'd; and even then by stealth, As wise men ought, and careful of his fame. Now his age calls for matrimony, now To matrimony he inclines his mind. SIMO. Yet, in my eyes, he seem'd a little sad. DAVUS. Not upon that account. He has he thinks Another reason to complain of you. SIMO. For what? DAVUS. A trifle. SIMO. Well, what is't? DAVUS. Nay, nothing. SIMO. Tell me, what is't? DAVUS. You are then, he complains, Somewhat too sparing of expense. SIMO. I? DAVUS. You. A feast of scarce ten Drachms? Does this, says he, Look like a wedding-supper for his son? What friends can I invite? especially At such a time as this?--and, truly, Sir, You have been very frugal; much too sparing. I can't commend you for it. SIMO. Hold your peace. DAVUS. I've ruffled him. (_Aside._) SIMO. I'll look to that. Away! (_Exit DAVUS._ What now? What means the varlet? Precious rogue, For if there's any knavery on foot, He, I am sure, is the contriver on't. (_Exit._ [Changes: _Harper_ 'Tis true he lov'd; and even then by stealth _Colman 1768_ 'Tis true he lov'd; but even then by stealth] ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. _SIMO, DAVUS, coming out of SIMO'S house.--MYSIS, LESBIA, going toward the house of GLYCERIUM._ MYSIS. Aye, marry, 'tis as you say, Lesbia: Women scarce ever find a constant man. SIMO. The Andrian's maid-servant! Is't not? DAVUS. Aye. MYSIS. But Pamphilus---- SIMO. What says she? (_Overhearing._) MYSIS. Has been true. SIMO. How's that? (_Overhearing._) DAVUS. Would he were deaf, or she were dumb! (_Aside._) MYSIS. For the child, boy, or girl, he has resolv'd To educate.