Manent Simo, Chremes.
- By Heav'n, As I do live, I'll make you know this day What peril lies in trifling with a master, And make him know what 'tis to plague a father.
Chremes. Ah, be not in such rage.
Simo. Oh Chremes, Chremes, Filial unkindness! - Don't you pity me! To feel all this for such a thankless son! - Here, Pamphilus, come forth! ho, Pamphilus! Have you no shame? (Calling at Glycerium's door.)