GETA. May the Gods prosper your design! Cautiously’s {the word}, however. ANT. (_to GETA._) Do see if you can give him any assistance at all. GETA. Any at all-- how? ANT. Pray, do try, that he mayn’t be doing something that we may afterward be more or less sorry for, Geta. GETA. I’m considering. (_He pauses._) He’s all safe, so far as I can guess: but still, I’m afraid of mischief. ANT. Don’t be afraid: together with you, we’ll share good {and} bad. GETA. (_to PHÆDRIA._) How much money do you want? Tell me. PHÆD. Only thirty minæ. GETA. Thirty? Heyday! she’s monstrous dear, Phædria. PHÆD. Indeed, she’s very cheap. GETA. Well, well, I’ll get them for you. PHÆD. Oh the dear man! (_They both fall to hugging GETA._) GETA. Take yourselves off. (_Shakes them off._) PHÆD. There’s need for them directly. GETA. You shall have them directly; but I must have Phormio for my assistant in this business. ANT. He’s quite ready; right boldly lay on him any load you like, he’ll bear it: he, in especial, is a friend to his friend. GETA. Let’s go to him at once then. ANT. Will you have any occasion for my assistance? GETA. None; but be off home, and comfort that poor thing, who I am sure is now in-doors almost dead with fear. Do you linger? ANT. There’s nothing I could do with so much pleasure. (_Goes into the house of DEMIPHO._) PHÆD. What way will you manage this? GETA. I’ll tell you on the road; first thing, betake yourself off. (_Exeunt_ ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. _Enter DEMIPHO and CHREMES._ DEM. Well, have you brought your daughter with you, Chremes, for whom you went to Lemnos? CHREM. No. DEM. Why not? CHREM. When her mother found that I staid here longer than usual, and at the same time the age of the girl did not suit with my delays, they told me that she, with all her family, set out in search of me. DEM. Pray, then, why did you stay there so long, when you had heard of this? CHREM. Why, faith, a malady detained me. DEM. From what cause? Or what {was it}? CHREM. Do you ask me? Old age itself is a malady. However, I heard that they had arrived safe, from the captain who brought them. DEM. Have you heard, Chremes, what has happened to my son in my absence? CHREM. ’Tis that, in fact, that has embarrassed me in my plans. For if I offer my daughter in marriage to any person that’s a stranger, it must all be told how and by whom I had her. You I knew to be fully as faithful to me as I am to myself; if a stranger shall think fit to be connected with me by marriage, he will hold his tongue, just as long as good terms exist between us: but if he takes a dislike to me, he’ll be knowing more than it’s proper he should know. I am afraid, too, lest my wife should, by some means, come to know of it; if that is the case, it {only} remains for me to shake myself[63] and leave the house; for I’m the only one I can rely on at home.[64]