Geta. Let’s go to him at once then.
Ant. Will you have any occasion for my assistance?
Geta. None; but be off home, and comfort that poor thing, who I am sure is now in-doors almost dead with fear. Do you linger?
Ant. There’s nothing I could do with so much pleasure.
Goes into the house of Demipho.
Phæd. What way will you manage this?
Geta. I’ll tell you on the road; first thing, betake yourself off.
Exeunt.