Parmeno alone.
I' faith my master holds my labor cheap, To send me to the Citadel for nothing, Where I have waited the whole day in vain For his Myconian, Callidemides. There was I sitting, gaping like a fool, And running up, if any one appear'd, - "Are you, Sir, a Myconian?" - "No, not I." - - "But your name's Callidemides?" - "Not it." - "And have not you a guest here of the name Of Pamphilus?" - No - no - All No. In short, I don't believe there's such a man. At last I grew asham'd, and so sneak'd off. - But is't not Bacchis that I see come forth From our new kinsman? What can she do there?