Scene IV.

Enter at a distance Geta, running.

Geta. Confusion! A quick thought, Geta, or you're quite undone, So many evils take you unprepar'd; Which I know neither how to shun nor how To extricate myself: for this bold stroke Of ours can't long be hid.

Ant. What's this confusion?

Geta. Then I have scarce a moment's time to think. My master is arriv'd.

Ant. What mischief's that?

Geta. Who, when he shall have heard it, by what art Shall I appease his anger? - Shall I speak? 'Twill irritate him. - Hold my peace? - enrage him. - Defend myself? - impossible? - Oh, wretch! Now for myself in pain, now Antipho Distracts my mind. - But him I pity most; For him I fear; 'tis he retains me here: For, were it not for him, I'd soon provide For my own safety - aye, and be reveng'd On the old graybeard - carry something off, And show my master a light pair of heels.

Ant. What scheme to rob and run away is this?

Geta. But where shall I find Antipho? where seek him?

Phæd. He mentions you.

Ant. I know not what, but doubt That he's the messenger of some ill news.

Phæd. Have you your wits?

Geta. I'll home: he's chiefly there.

Phæd. Let's call him back!

Ant. Holloa, you! stop!

Geta. Heyday! Authority enough, be who you will.

Ant. Geta!

Geta (turning). The very man I wish'd to meet!

Ant. Tell us, what news? - in one word, if you can.

Geta. I'll do it.

Ant. Speak!

Geta. This moment at the port -

Ant. My father?

Geta. Even so.

Ant. Undone!

Phæd. Heyday!

Ant. What shall I do?

Phæd. What say you? (To Geta .)

Geta. That I've seen His father, Sir, - your uncle.

Ant. How shall I, Wretch that I am! oppose this sudden evil! Should I be so unhappy to be torn From thee, my Phanium, life's not worth my care.

Geta. Since that's the case then, Antipho, you ought To be the more upon your guard.

Ant. Alas! I'm not myself.

Geta. But now you should be most so, Antipho. For if your father should discern your fear, He'll think you conscious of a fault.

Phæd. That's true.

Ant. I can not help it, nor seem otherwise.

Geta. How would you manage in worse difficulties?

Ant. Since I'm not equal to bear this, to those I should be more unequal.

Geta. This is nothing. Pooh, Phædria, let him go! why waste our time? I will be gone. (Going.)

Phæd. And I. (Going.)

Ant. Nay, prithee, stay! What if I should dissemble? - Will that do?

Endeavoring to assume another air.

Geta. Ridiculous!

Ant. Nay, look at me! will that Suffice?

Geta. Not it.

Ant. Or this?

Geta. Almost.

Ant. Or this?

Geta. Aye! now you've hit it. Do but stick to that; Answer him boldly; give him hit for dash, Nor let him bear you down with angry words.

Ant. I understand you.

Geta. "Forc'd" - "against your will" - "By law" - "by sentence of the court" - d'ye take me? - But what old gentleman is that I see Turning the corner of the street?

Ant. 'Tis he. I dare not face him. (Going.)

Geta. Ah! what is't you do? Where d'ye run, Antipho! stay, stay, I say.

Ant. I know myself and my offense too well: To you, then, I commend my life and love.

Exit.