Chæ. (to himself.) I’m utterly undone! The girl is nowhere; nor do I know where I am myself, to have lost sight of her. Where to inquire for her, where to search for her, whom to ask, which way to turn, I’m at a loss. I have only this hope; wherever she is, she can not long be concealed. O what beauteous features! from this moment I banish all other women from my thoughts; I can not endure these every-day beauties.
Par. (apart.) Why look, here’s the other one. He’s saying something, I don’t know what, about love. O unfortunate old man, their father! This assuredly is a youth, who, if he does begin, you will say that the other one was mere play and pastime, compared with what the madness of this one will cause.
Chæ. (to himself, aloud.) May all the Gods and Goddesses confound that old fellow who detained me to-day, and me as well who stopped for him, and in fact troubled myself a straw about him. But see, here’s Parmeno. (Addressing him.) Good-morrow to you.
Par. Why are you out of spirits, and why in such a hurry? Whence come you?
Chæ. What, I? I’faith, I neither know whence I’m come, nor whither I’m going; so utterly have I lost myself.
Par. How, pray?
Chæ. I’m in love.
Par. (starting.) Ha!
Chæ. Now, Parmeno, you may show what sort of a man you are. You know that you often promised me to this effect: “Chærea, do you only find some object to fall in love with; I’ll make you sensible of my usefulness in such matters,” when I used to be storing up my father’s provisions for you on the sly in your little room.[48]
Par. To the point, you simpleton.