GETA. Oh, Phaedria, 'Tis wonderful how much a wiser man I am than my old master. My misfortunes I have consider'd well.--At his return Doom'd to grind ever in the mill, beat, chain'd, Or set to labor in the fields; of these Nothing will happen new. If aught falls out Beyond my hopes, all that I'll count clear gain. --But why delay t'accost th' old gentleman, And speak him fair at first? (_PHAEDRIA goes forward._) DEM. Methinks I see My nephew Phaedria. PHAED. My good Uncle, welcome! DEM. Your servant!--But where's Antipho? PHAED. I'm glad To see you safe---- DEM. Well, well!--But answer me. PHAED. He's well: hard by.--But have affairs turn'd out According to your wishes? DEM. Would they had! PHAED. Why, what's the matter? DEM. What's the matter, Phaedria? You've clapp'd up a fine marriage in my absence. PHAED. What! are you angry with him about that? GETA. Well counterfeited! DEM. Should I not be angry? Let me but set eyes on him, he shall know That his offenses have converted me From a mild father to a most severe one. PHAED. He has done nothing, Uncle, to offend you. DEM. See, all alike! the whole gang hangs together: Know one, and you know all. PHAED. Nay, 'tis not so. DEM. One does a fault, the other's hard at hand To bear him out: when t'other slips, _he's_ ready: Each in their turn! GETA. I' faith th' old gentleman Has blunder'd on their humors to a hair. DEM. If 'twere not so, you'd not defend him, Phaedria. PHAED. If, Uncle, Antipho has done a wrong, Or to his interest or reputation, I am content he suffer as he may: But if another, with malicious fraud, Has laid a snare for unexperienced youth, And triumph'd o'er it; can you lay the blame On us, or on the judges, who oft take Through envy from the rich, or from compassion Add to the poor? GETA. Unless I knew the cause, I should imagine this was truth he spoke. DEM. What judge can know the merits on your side, When you put in no plea; as he has done? PHAED. He has behav'd like an ingenuous youth. When he came into court, he wanted pow'r To utter what he had prepar'd, so much He was abash'd by fear and modesty. GETA. Oh brave!--But why, without more loss of time, Don't I accost th' old man! (_Going up._) My master, welcome! I am rejoic'd to see you safe return'd. DEM. What! my good master Governor! your slave! The prop! the pillar of our family! To whom, at my departure hence, I gave My son in charge. GETA. I've heard you for some time Accuse us all quite undeservedly, And me, of all, most undeservedly. For what could I have done in this affair? A slave the laws will not allow to plead; Nor can he be an evidence. DEM. I grant it. Nay more--the boy was bashful--I allow it. --You but a slave.--But if she had been prov'd Ever so plainly a relation, why Needed he marry her? and why not rather Give her, according to the law, a portion, And let her seek some other for a husband? Why did he rather bring a beggar home?