DAVUS. And well you may, as men and times go now, Things, by my troth, are come to such a pass, If a man pays you what he owes, you're much Beholden to him.--But, pray, why so sad? GETA. I?--You can scarce imagine in what dread. What danger I am in. DAVUS. How so? GETA. I'll tell you, So you will keep it secret. DAVUS. Away, fool! The man whose faith in money you have tried, D'ye fear to trust with words?--And to what end Should I deceive you? GETA. List, then! DAVUS. I'm all ear. GETA. D'ye know our old man's elder brother, Chremes? DAVUS. Know him? aye, sure. GETA. You do?--And his son Phaedria? DAVUS. As well as I know you. GETA. It so fell out, Both the old men were forc'd to journey forth At the same season. He to Lemnos, ours Into Cilicia, to an old acquaintance Who had decoy'd the old curmudgeon thither By wheedling letters, almost promising Mountains of gold. DAVUS. To one that had so much More than enough already? GETA. Prithee, peace! Money's his passion. DAVUS. Oh, would I had been A man of fortune, I! GETA. At their departure, The two old gentlemen appointed me A kind of governor to both their sons. DAVUS. A hard task, Geta! GETA. Troth, I found it so. My angry Genius for my sins ordain'd it. At first I took upon me to oppose: In short, while I was trusty to th' old man, The young one made my shoulders answer for it. DAVUS. So I suppose: for what a foolish task To kick against the pricks! GETA. I then resolv'd To give them their own way in every thing. DAVUS. Aye, then you made your market.