Davus. Do you know my ill fortune?
Pam. To a tittle.
Davus. ’Tis after the old fashion, that my ills
Should reach your ears, before your joys reach mine.
Pam. Glycerium has discover’d her relations.
Davus. O excellent!
Char. How’s that? (Listening.)
Pam. Her father is
Our most near friend.
Davus. Who?