Scene VI.

Enter Sophrona at a distance.

Soph. (to herself). Alas! What shall I do, unhappy as I am? Where find a friend? to whom disclose this story? Of whom beseech assistance? - For I fear My mistress will sustain some injury From following my counsel: the youth's father, I hear, is so offended at this marriage.

Chrem. Who's this old woman, coming from my brother's, That seems so terrified?

Soph. (to herself). 'Twas poverty Compell'd me to this action: though I knew This match would hardly hold together long, Yet I advis'd her to it, that meanwhile She might not want subsistence.

Chrem. Surely, surely, Either my mind deceives me, or my eyes fail me, Or that's my daughter's nurse.

Soph. Nor can we find -

Chrem. What shall I do?

Soph. - Her father out.

Chrem. Were't best I should go up to her, or wait a little, To gather something more from her discourse?

Soph. Could he be found, my fears were at an end.

Chrem. 'Tis she. I'll speak with her.

Soph. (overhearing). Whose voice is that?

Chrem. Sophrona!

Soph. Ha! my name too?

Chrem. Look this way.

Soph. (turning). Good Heav'n have mercy on us! Stilpho!

Chrem. No.

Soph. Deny your own name?

Chrem. (in a low voice). This way, Sophrona! - - A little further from that door! - this way! - And never call me by that name, I charge you.

Soph. What, ar'n't you then the man you said you was? (Aloud.)

Chrem. Hist! hist!

Soph. What makes you fear those doors so much?

Chrem. I have a fury of a wife within: And formerly I went by that false name, Lest she should indiscreetly blab it out, And so my wife might come to hear of this.

Soph. Ah! thus it was, that we, alas! poor souls, Could never find you out here.

Chrem. Well, but tell me, What business have you with that family? (Pointing.) - Where is your mistress and her daughter?

Soph. Ah!

Chrem. What now? are they alive?

Soph. The daughter is: The mother broke her heart with grief.

Chrem. Alas!

Soph. And I a poor, unknown, distress'd old woman, Endeavoring to manage for the best, Contriv'd to match the virgin to a youth, Son to the master of this house.

Chrem. To Antipho?

Soph. The very same.

Chrem. What! has he two wives then?

Soph. No, mercy on us! he has none but her.

Chrem. What is the other then, who, they pretend, Is a relation to him?

Soph. This is she.

Chrem. How say you?

Soph. It was all a mere contrivance: That he, who was in love, might marry her Without a portion.

Chrem. O ye powers of heav'n, How often fortune blindly brings about More than we dare to hope for! Coming home, I've found my daughter, even to my wish, Match'd to the very person I desir'd. What we have both been laboring to effect, Has this poor woman all alone accomplish'd.

Soph. But now consider what is to be done! The bridegroom's father is return'd; and he, They say, is much offended at this marriage.

Chrem. Be of good comfort: there's no danger there. But, in the name of heav'n and earth, I charge you, Let nobody discover she's my daughter.

Soph. None shall discover it from me.

Chrem. Come then! Follow me in, and you shall hear the rest.

Exeunt.