Chremes.

I never saw such a woman; never in all my life. Upon my word I am sorry for poor Menedemus now: What would he have done without me? What a predicament! Suppose his son had returned, and he with his simple heart Had given in, and had this woman to live in his house— Well, thanks to me he is safe. Forty pounds, I think, Was not so dear a bargain: and yet ’tis a tidy sum. As much as I should make on a small consignment of sponges: And that I have paid on risk—although I cannot doubt But that Menedemus will gladly pay me again—’tis risked. All for this paper, wherein the lady promises In consideration of this same money made over to her, Never again to receive the addresses of her quondam lover, Clinia; signed Gorgo: a genuine business. And yet no wonder she laughed; of course she thinks me a fool To consider her promise of weight. Ah, mistress, giggle and all, I’ve settled your hash. Ha! ha! ’twas clever of Pamphilus: The lad has some of my wits. But still I shall be uneasy, Until I find Menedemus is reasonable:—indeed I’ll lose no time. Menedemus might desire to come And judge for himself: I’ll press him to do so: ’twere best, and then He’ll dine with us after all, & I shall dine much better Myself, I must confess, when I know my money is safe. [Exit into Menedemus’ garden.

Enter Philolaches and Pamphilus disguised as Persians.