PHOR. Rather say, No man sufficiently can thank his patron. You at free cost to come! anointed, bath'd, Easy and gay! while he's eat up with care And charge, to cater for your entertainment! He gnaws his heart, you laugh; eat first, sit first, And see a doubtful banquet plac'd before you! GETA. Doubtful! what phrase is that? PHOR. Where you're in doubt, What you shall rather choose. Delights like these When you but think how sweet, how dear, they are; Him that affords them must you not suppose A very deity? GETA. The old man's here. Mind what you do! the first attack's the fiercest: Sustain but that, the rest will be mere play. (_They retire._) [Changes: _Harper_ In those mere labor lost. Thus other men _Colman 1768_ In these mere labor lost. Thus other men] SCENE II. _Enter at a distance DEMIPHO--HEGIO, CRATINUS, CRITO, following._ DEM. Was ever man so grossly treated, think ye? --This way, Sirs, I beseech you. GETA. He's enrag'd! PHOR. Hist! mind your cue: I'll work him. --(_Coming forward, and speaking loud._) Oh, ye Gods! Does he deny that Phanium's his relation? What, Demipho! does Demipho deny That Phanium is his kinswoman? GETA. He does. PHOR. And who her father was, he does not know? GETA. No. DEM. (_to the Lawyers_). Here's the very fellow, I believe, Of whom I have been speaking.--Follow me! PHOR. (_aloud_). And that he does not know who Stilpho was? GETA. No. PHOR. Ah! because, poor thing, she's left in want, Her father is unknown, and she despis'd. What will not avarice do? GETA. If you insinuate My master's avaricious, woe be to you! DEM. (_behind_). Oh impudence! he dares accuse me first. PHOR. As to the youth, I can not take offense, If he had not much knowledge of him; since, Now in the vale of years, in want, his work His livelihood, he nearly altogether Liv'd in the country: where he held a farm Under my father. I have often heard The poor old man complain that this his kinsman Neglected him.--But what a man! A man Of most exceeding virtue. GETA. Much at one: Yourself and he you praise so much. PHOR. Away! Had I not thought him what I've spoken of him, I would not for his daughter's sake have drawn So many troubles on our family, Whom this old cuff now treats so scandalously. GETA. What, still abuse my absent master, rascal! PHOR. It is no more than he deserves. GETA. How, villain! DEM. Geta! (_Calling._) GETA. Rogue, robber, pettifogger! (_To PHORMIO pretending not to hear DEMIPHO._) DEM. Geta! PHOR. Answer. (_Apart to GETA._) GETA (_turning_). Who's that?--Oh! DEM. Peace! GETA. Behind your back All day without cessation has this knave Thrown scurvy terms upon you, such as none But men like him can merit. DEM. Well! have done. (_Putting GETA by, then addressing PHORMIO._) Young man! permit me first to ask one question. And, if you please, vouchsafe to answer me. --Who was this friend of yours? Explain! and how Might he pretend that I was his relation?