Enter Mysis. (Speaking to a servant within.)
I hear, Archyllis; I hear what you say: You beg me to bring Lesbia. By my troth That Lesbia is a drunken wretch, hot-headed, Nor worthy to be trusted with a woman In her first labor. Well, well! she shall come. - Observe how earnest the old gossip is, (Coming forward) Because this Lesbia is her pot-companion. - Oh grant my mistress, Heav'n, a safe delivery, And let the midwife trespass any where Rather than here! - But what is it I see? Pamphilus all disorder'd: How I fear The cause! I'll wait a while, that I may know If this commotion means us any ill.