Bacch. And you, upon my word, possess your former manners and disposition; so much so that not a single man living is more engaging than you.
Pam. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! do you tell me so?
Bacch. You had reason, Pamphilus, for being so fond of your wife. For never before to-day did I set eyes upon her, so as to know her: she seems a very gentle person.
Pam. Tell the truth.
Bacch. So may the Gods bless me, Pamphilus!
Pam. Tell me, have you as yet told any of these matters to my father?
Bacch. Not a word.
Pam. Nor is there need, in fact; therefore keep it a secret: I don’t wish it to be the case here as it is in the Comedies,[62] where every thing is known to every body. Here, those who ought to know, know already; but those who ought not to know, shall neither hear of it nor know it.
Bacch. Nay more, I will give you a proof why you may suppose that this may be the more easily concealed. Myrrhina has told Phidippus to this effect—that she has given credit to my oath, and that, in consequence, in her eyes you are exculpated.
Pam. Most excellent; and I trust that this matter will turn out according to our wishes.