Pyth. That Chærea.
Thais. What Chærea?
Pyth. That stripling, the brother of Phædria.
Thais. What’s that you say, you hag?
Pyth. And I am satisfied of it.
Thais. Pray, what business had he at my house? What brought him there?
Pyth. I don’t know; unless, as I suppose, he was in love with Pamphila.
Thais. Alas! to my confusion, unhappy woman that I am, I’m undone, if what you tell me is true. Is it about this that the girl is crying?
Pyth. I believe so.
Thais. How say you, you arch-jade? Did I not warn you about this very thing, when I was going away from here?