GETA (_to himself._) Geta, you are undone, unless you instantly find out some expedient; so suddenly do such mighty evils now threaten me thus unprepared, which I neither know how to shun, nor how to extricate myself therefrom; for this daring step of ours can not now any longer be kept a secret. If such a result is not adroitly guarded against, these matters will cause the ruin of myself, or of my master. ANT. (_to PHÆDRIA._) Why, I wonder, is he coming in such fright? GETA (_to himself._) Besides, I’ve but a moment left for this matter-- my master’s close at hand. ANT. (_to PHÆDRIA._) What mischief is this? GETA (_to himself._) When he comes to hear of it, what remedy shall I discover for his anger? Am I to speak? I shall irritate him: be silent? I shall provoke him: excuse myself? I should be washing a brickbat.[36] Alas! unfortunate me! While I am trembling for myself, this Antipho distracts my mind. I am concerned for him; I’m in dread for him: ’tis he that now keeps me here; for had it not been for him, I should have made due provision for my safety, and have taken vengeance on the old man for his crabbedness; I should have scraped up something, and straightway taken to my heels away from here. ANT. (_to PHÆDRIA._) I wonder what running away or theft it is that he’s planning. GETA (_to himself._) But where shall I find Antipho, or which way go look for him? PHÆD. (_to ANTIPHO._) He’s mentioning your name. ANT. (_to PHÆDRIA._) I know not what great misfortune I expect to hear from this messenger. PHÆD. (_to ANTIPHO._) Why, are you in your senses? GETA (_to himself._) I’ll make my way homeward; he’s generally there. PHÆD. (_to ANTIPHO._) Let’s call the fellow back. ANT. (_calling out._) Stop, this instant. GETA (_turning round._) Heyday-- with authority enough, whoever you are. ANT. Geta! GETA. The very person I wanted to find. ANT. Pray, tell me what news you bring and dispatch it in {one} word, if you can. GETA. I’ll do {so}. ANT. Out with it. GETA. Just now, at the harbor-- ANT. What, my {father}--? GETA. You’ve hit it. ANT. Ruined outright! PHÆD. Pshaw! ANT. What am I to do? PHÆD. (_to GETA._) What is it you say? GETA. That I have seen his father, your uncle. ANT. How am I, wretch that I am, now to find a remedy for this sudden misfortune? But if it should be my fortune, Phanium, to be torn away from you, life would cease to be desirable. GETA. Therefore, Antipho, since matters are thus, the more need have you to be on your guard; fortune helps the brave. ANT. I am not myself. GETA. But just now it is especially necessary you should be so, Antipho; for if your father perceives that you are alarmed, he will think that you have been guilty of some fault. PHÆD. That’s true. ANT. I can not change. GETA. What would you do, if now something else still more difficult had to be done by you? ANT. As I am not equal to this, I should be still less so to the other.