style="font-size:15px;"> Chr. Say, Demipho! Have you paid the money yet? Dem. Yes, I've tended to that. Chr. Well, I wish you hadn't. [Aside as he sees his wife]. Gracious! There's my wife! I almost said too much. Dem. Why do you wish it, Chremes? Chr. O, that's all right. Dem. What do you mean? Have you talked with the girl on whose account I'm taking Nausistrata in? Chr. Yes, I've had a talk with her. Dem. Well, what does she say? Chr. She can't be disturbed. Dem. Why can't she? Chr. O, because—they're so fond of each other. Dem. What difference does that make to us? Chr. A great deal. And besides, I've found that she's related to us, after all. Dem. What's that? You're off your base. Chr. No, I'm not. I know what I'm talking about. I remember all about it now. Dem. Surely, you are crazy. Naus. I beg you won't do any harm to a relative. Dem. She's no relative. Chr. Don't say that. She gave the wrong name for her father. That's where you make your mistake. Dem. Nonsense! Didn't she know her own father? Chr. Yes, she knew him. Dem. Well, then, why didn't she tell his right name? Chr. [apart to Demipho, in low, desperate tones]. Won't you ever let up? Won't you understand? Dem. How can I, if you tell me nothing? Chr. O, you'll be the death of me. Naus. I wonder what it's all about. Dem. I'll be blest if I know. Chr. Do you want to know? I swear to you there's no one nearer to her than you and I. Dem. Good gracious! Let's go to her, then. Let's all together get to the bottom of this business. [He starts toward his house with Nausistrata]. Chr. I say, Demipho! Dem. Well, what now? Chr. [angrily]. Have you so little confidence in me as that? Dem. Do you want me to take your word for it? Do you want me to seek no further in the matter? All right, so be it. But what about the daughter of our friend? What's to become of her? Chr. She'll be all right. Dem. Are we to drop her, then? Chr. Why not? Dem. And is Phanium to remain? Chr. Just so. Dem. Well, Nausistrata, I guess we will excuse you. [Exit Nausistrata into her own house]. Now, Chremes, what in the world is all this about? Chr. Is that door tight shut? Dem. Yes. Chr. [leading his brother well out of earshot of the house]. O Jupiter! The gods are on our side. My daughter I have found—married—to your son! Dem. What? How can that be? Chr. It isn't safe to talk about it here. Dem. Well, go inside then. Chr. But see here, I don't want even our sons to find this out. [They go into Demipho's house.]
Antipho has seen Phædria's business happily settled, and now comes in, feeling very gloomy about his own affairs. His deep dejection serves as a happy contrast to the fortunate turn of his affairs which we have just witnessed. In his unsettled state he starts off to find the faithful Geta, when Phormio comes on the stage, in high spirits over his success in cheating the old men out of their money in behalf of Phædria. It is his own rôle now, he says, to keep well in the background. Now the door of Demipho's house opens and out rushes Geta, shouting and gesticulating:
O luck! O great good luck! How suddenly have you heaped your choicest gifts on my master Antipho this day! Ant. [apart]. What can he mean? Ge. And freed us all from fear! But what am I stopping here for? I'll throw my cloak over my shoulder and hurry up and find the man, that he may know how things have turned out. Ant. [aside]. Do you know what this fellow is talking about? Pho. No, do you? Ant. No. Pho. No more do I. Ge. I'll run over to Dorio's house. They are there now. Ant. [calling]. Hello, Geta! Ge. [without looking back]. Hello yourself! That's an old trick, to call a fellow back when he's started to run. Ant. I say, Geta! Ge. Keep it up; you won't catch me with your mean trick. Ant. Won't you stop? Ge. You go hang. Ant. That's what will happen to you, you rogue, unless you hold on. Ge. This fellow must be one of the family by the way he threatens. But isn't it the man I'm after—the very man? Come here right off. Ant. What is it? Ge. O, of all men alive you are the luckiest! There's no doubt about it, Antipho, you are the pet child of heaven. Ant. I wish I were. But please tell me how I am to believe it. Ge. Isn't it enough if I say that you are fairly dripping with joy? Ant. You're just killing me. Pho. [coming forward]. Why don't you quit your big talk, Geta, and tell us your news. Ge. O, you were there, were you, Phormio? Pho. Yes, I was; but hurry up. Ge. Well, then, listen. Just now, after we gave you the money in the Forum, we went straight home; and then my master sent me in to your wife. Ant. What for? Ge. Never mind that now, Antipho; it has nothing to do with this story. When I am about to enter the woman's apartments, the slave-boy Mida runs up to me, plucks me by the coat and pulls me back. I look around, and ask him what he does that for; he says, it's against orders for any one to go to the young mistress. "Sophrona has just taken the old man's brother Chremes in there," he says, "and he's in there with 'em now." As soon as I heard that, I tiptoed toward the door of the room—got there, stood still, held my breath and put my ear to the key-hole. So I listened as hard as I could to catch what they said. Ant. Good for you, Geta! Ge. And then I heard the finest piece of news. I declare I almost shouted for joy! Ant. What for? Ge. What do you think? Ant. I haven't the slightest idea. Ge. But, I tell you, it was the grandest thing! Your uncle turns out to be—the father of—Phanium—your wife! Ant. What? How can that be? Ge. He lived with her mother secretly in Lemnos. Pho. Nonsense! Wouldn't the girl have known her own father? Ge. Be sure there's some explanation of it, Phormio. You don't suppose that I could hear everything that passed between them, from outside the door? Ant. Now I think of it, I too have had some hint of that story. Ge. Now I'll give you still further proof: pretty soon your uncle comes out of the room and leaves the house, and before long he comes back with your father, and they both go in. And now they both say that you may keep her. In short, I was sent to hunt you up and bring you to them. Ant. [all excitement]. Well, why don't you do it then? What are you waiting for? Ge. Come along. Ant. O my dear Phormio, good-by! Pho. Good-by, my boy. I declare, I'm mighty glad it's turned out well for you.
Antipho and Geta hurry away to Demipho's house, while Phormio retires up a convenient alley to await future developments.
The only problem now remaining on Phormio's side is how to keep the money that has been given him by the old men, so that Phædria may not be again embarrassed; on the side of the old men the problem is to get back their money. How the poet treats us to the liveliest scene of all after the more important matters have been settled, is now to be seen. Demipho and Chremes come upon the stage, congratulating each other upon the happy turn which their affairs have taken.
Dem. I ought to thank the gods, as indeed I do, that these matters have turned out so well for us, brother. Chr. Isn't she a fine girl, just as I told you? Dem. Yes, indeed. But now we must find Phormio as soon as possible, so as to get our six hundred dollars back again before he makes away with it.
Phormio now walks across the stage in a lordly way without seeming to see the old men, and goes straight to Demipho's door, upon which he raps loudly and calls to the attendant within:
If Demipho is at home. I want to see him, that—Dem. [stepping up from without]. Why, we were just coming to see you, Phormio. Pho. On the same business, perhaps? Dem. Very likely. Pho. I supposed so. But why were you coming to me? It's absurd. Were you afraid that I wouldn't do what I had promised? No fear of that. For, however poor I may be, I have always been particularly careful to keep my word. And so I have come to tell you, Demipho, that I am ready; whenever you wish, give me my wife. For I put all my own private considerations aside, as was quite right, when I saw that you wanted this so much. Dem. [who does not know quite what to say]. But my brother here has asked me not to give her to you. "For," says he, "what a scandal there will be if you do that! At the time when she could have been given to you honorably it was not done; and now it would be a disgrace to cast her off." Almost the same arguments that you yourself urged upon me not long ago. Pho. Well, you have got gall! Dem. What do you mean? Pho. Can't you see? I can't even marry that other girl now; for with what face could I go back to her after I had once thrown her over? Chr.
