Phæd. Can’t I prevail on you
To stay but these three days?— Nay, where d’ye go?
Dorio. I should have wonder’d had you said aught new.
Ant. (behind). This pimp, I fear, will work himself no
good.
Geta. I fear so too.
Phæd. Won’t you believe me?
Dorio. Guess.
Phæd. Upon my honor.
Dorio. Nonsense.