Chrem. O, don’t importune me; as though you needed to obtain this of me by entreaty. Do you suppose I am different now from what I was formerly, when I promised her? If it is for the advantage of them both that it should take place, order her to be sent for. But if from this course there would result more harm than advantage for each, this I do beg of you, that you will consult for their common good, as though she were your own daughter, and I the father of Pamphilus.
Sim. Nay, so I intend, and so I wish it to be, Chremes; and I would not ask it of you, did not the occasion itself require it.
Chrem. What is the matter?
Sim. There is a quarrel between Glycerium and my son.
Chrem. (ironically) I hear you.
Sim. So much so, that I’m in hopes they may be separated.
Chrem. Nonsense!
Sim. It really is so.
Chrem. After this fashion, i’faith, I tell you, “the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love.”
Sim. Well—this I beg of you, that we may prevent it. While an opportunity offers, and while his passion is cooled by affronts, before the wiles of these women and their tears, craftily feigned, bring back his love-sick mind to compassion, let us give him a wife. I trust, Chremes, that, when attached by intimacy and a respectable marriage, he will easily extricate himself from these evils.