Pamphilus, Mysis[101].
Pam. Heavens! is it possible that any human being, much less a father, could be guilty of an action like this?
Mysis. (aside.) What can be the matter?
Pam. By the faith of gods and men, if ever any one was unworthily treated, I am. He peremptorily resolved that I should be married on this very day. Why was not I informed of this before? Why was not I consulted?
Mysis. (aside.) Miserable woman that I am! what do I hear?
Pam. And why has Chremes changed his mind, who obstinately persisted in refusing me his daughter, after he heard of my imprudence[102]? Can he do this to tear me from my dearest Glycera? Alas! if I lose her, I am utterly undone. Was there ever such an unfortunate lover?—was there ever such an unhappy man as I am? Heavens and earth! will this persecution never end? Shall I never hear the last of this detested marriage? How have I been insulted; how have I been slighted! First of all, the match is agreed on, every thing is prepared, then I am rejected, now I am courted again. I cannot, for the soul of me, discover the reason of all this; however, I shrewdly suspect that this daughter of Chremes is either hideously [103]ugly, or that something is amiss in her; and so, because he can find no one else to take her off his hands, he comes to me.
Mysis. (aside.) Bless me! I’m almost frightened out of my senses.
Pam. But what shall I say of my father’s behaviour? Ought an affair of such consequence to be treated so lightly? Meeting me just now in the Forum, Pamphilus, said he, you are to be married to-day, get ready, make haste home; it seemed as if he said, go quickly and hang yourself. I stood amazed and motionless; not one single word could I pronounce; not one single excuse could I make, though it had been ever so absurd, false, or unreasonable: I was quite speechless. If any one were to ask me now, what I would have done, if I had known of this before? I answer, I would have done any thing in the world to prevent this hateful marriage; but now what course can I take? A thousand cares distract my mind. On one side, I am called upon by love and my compassion for this unfortunate: on the other by their continued importunities for my marriage with Philumena, and a fear of offending my father, who has been hitherto so indulgent to me, and complied with my every wish; and can I now oppose his will? Alas! I am still wavering; I can resolve upon nothing.
Mysis. Unhappy wretch that I am. I dread how this wavering may end at last; but now it is of the utmost consequence either that I should say something to him respecting my mistress, or that he should see her himself; for the least thing in the world may turn the scale, while the mind is in suspense.
Pam. Whose voice is that? Oh, Mysis, welcome.