Enter Pamphilus.
Pam. Who calls?—Undone! my father!
Simo. What say you? Most——
Chremes. Ah, rather speak at once
Your purpose, Simo, and forbear reproach.
Simo. As if ’twere possible to utter aught
Severer than he merits!—Tell me then; (To Pam.)
Glycerium is a citizen?
Pam. They say so.
Simo. They say so!—Oh amazing impudence!——