Simo. You have heard it! Oh impudence! Now does he seem to care for what he says? does he seem to repent of his folly? does he betray any symptoms of shame? can he be so weak? [197]so totally regardless of the customs and laws of his country, and his father’s commands, as to wish to degrade himself by an infamous union with this woman?
Pam. Unhappy wretch that I am!
Simo. Ah! Pamphilus, is it only now that you have discovered that? long, long ago, I say, when you debased your inclinations, and were willing to sacrifice every thing to your desires; then it was that you might truly have called yourself unhappy. But what am I doing? why do I torment myself? why should I suffer? why imbitter my old age with his mad folly? Am I to pay the penalty of his offences? No: let him have her: I bid him farewell: let her supply the place of his father.
Pam. Oh, my father!
Simo. What need have you of a father? you, who have chosen a wife, children, and home, which are all of them disagreeable, and even obnoxious to that father? Persons are suborned hither too, [198]who say, that she is a citizen of Athens. You have conquered.
Pam. Dear Sir, hear me but for a moment.
Simo. What can you say?
Chremes. Yet hear him, Simo, I entreat you.
Simo. Hear him! Oh Chremes, what shall I hear?
Chremes. Nevertheless, permit him to speak.