Chrem. Nay, but be pacified! I’ll pay the money.
Only do you prevail upon your son
To marry her whom we desire.
Ant. (behind). Ah me!
Geta, your treachery has ruin’d me.
Chrem. She’s put away on my account: ’tis just
That I should pay the money.
Geta. “Let me know,”
Continues he, “as soon as possible,
Whether they mean to have me marry her;