Pam. Ha! could I attempt that? Could I suffer her, poor thing, to be deceived on my account? She, who has confided to me her affection, and her entire existence? She, whom I have held especially dear to my feelings as my wife? Shall I suffer her mind, well and chastely trained and tutored, to be overcome by poverty and corrupted? I will not do it.
Mys. I should have no fear if it rested with yourself alone; but whether you may be able to withstand compulsion—
Pam. Do you deem me so cowardly, so utterly ungrateful, inhuman, and so brutish, that neither intimacy, nor affection, nor shame, can move or admonish me to keep faith?
Mys. This one thing I know, that she is deserving that you should not forget her.
Pam. Forget her? Oh Mysis, Mysis, at this moment are those words of Chrysis concerning Glycerium written on my mind. Now at the point of death, she called me; I went to her; you had withdrawn; we were alone; she began: “My dear Pamphilus, you see her beauty and her youth; and it is not unknown to you to what extent both of these are now of use to her, in protecting both her chastity and her interests. By this right hand I do entreat you, and by your good Genius,[47] by your own fidelity, and by her bereft condition, do not withdraw yourself from her, or forsake her; if I have loved you as my own brother, or if she has always prized you above all others, or has been obedient to you in all things. You do I give to her as a husband, friend, protector, father. This property of mine do I intrust to you, and commit to your care.” She placed her in my hands; that instant, death came upon her. I accepted her; having accepted, I will protect her.
Mys. So indeed I hope. (Moving.)
Pam. But why are you leaving her?
Mys. I’m going to fetch the midwife.[48]
Pam. Make all haste. And—do you hear?—take care, and not one word about the marriage, lest that too should add to her illness.
Mys. I understand.