PHOR. Well; but what can't be cur'd must be endur'd: 'Twere well, and like yourself, that we were friends. DEM. I! friend to you? or choose to see or hear you! PHOR. Do but agree with her, you'll have a girl To comfort your old age. Your years, consider! DEM. Plague on your comfort! take her to yourself! PHOR. Ah! don't be angry! DEM. One word more, I've done. See that you fetch away this wench, and soon, Or I shall turn her headlong out o'doors. So much for Phormio! PHOR. Offer but to touch her In any other manner than beseems A gentlewoman and a citizen, And I shall bring a swinging writ against you. So much for Demipho!--If I am wanted, I am at home, d'ye hear? (_Apart to GETA._) GETA. I understand. (_Apart._) (_Exit PHORMIO._ SCENE III. DEM. With how much care, and what solicitude, My son affects me, with this wretched match Having embroil'd himself and me! nor comes Into my sight, that I might know at least Or what he says, or thinks of this affair. Go you, and see if he's come home or no. GETA. I'm gone. (_Exit._ DEM. You see, Sirs, how this matter stands. What shall I do? Say, Hegio! HEGIO. Meaning me? Cratinus, please you, should speak first. DEM. Say then, Cratinus! CRA. Me d'ye question? DEM. You. CRA. Then I, Whatever steps are best I'd have you take. Thus it appears to me. Whate'er your son Has in your absence done is null and void, In law and equity.--And so you'll find. That's my opinion. DEM. Say now, Hegio! HEGIO. He has, I think, pronounc'd most learnedly. But so 'tis: many men, and many minds! Each has his fancy: Now, in my opinion, Whate'er is done by law can't be undone. 'Tis shameful to attempt it. DEM. Say you, Crito! CRITO. The case, I think, asks more deliberation. 'Tis a nice point. HEGIO. Would you aught else with us? DEM. You've utter'd oracles. (_Exeunt Lawyers._) I'm more uncertain Now than I was before. _Re-enter GETA._ GETA. He's not return'd. DEM. My brother, as I hope, will soon arrive: Whate'er advice he gives me, that I'll follow. I'll to the Port, and ask when they expect him. (_Exit._ GETA. And I'll go find out Antipho, and tell him All that has pass'd.--But here he comes in time. SCENE IV. _Enter at a distance ANTIPHO._ ANT. (_to himself_). Indeed, indeed, my Antipho, You're much to blame, to be so poor in spirit. What! steal away so guilty-like! and trust Your life and safety to the care of others! Would they be touch'd more nearly than yourself? Come what come might of ev'ry thing beside, Could you abandon the dear maid at home? Could you so far deceive her easy faith, And leave her to misfortune and distress? Her, who plac'd all her hopes in you alone? GETA (_coming forward_). I' faith, Sir, we have thought you much to blame For your long absence.---- ANT. You're the very man That I was looking for. GETA. --But ne'ertheless We've miss'd no opportunity. ANT. Oh, speak! How go my fortunes, Geta? has my father Any suspicion that I was in league With Phormio?