Chrem. He’s alive, and well.
Men. Why, where is he, pray?
Chrem. Here, at my house, at home.
Men. My son?
Chrem. Such is the fact.
Men. Come home?
Chrem. Certainly.
Men. My son, Clinia, come home?
Chrem. I say so.
Men. Let us go. Lead me to him, I beg of you.