Enter Laches.
Laches. I’ve this convenience from my neighb’ring villa;
I’m never tir’d of country or of town.
For as disgust comes on, I change my place.
—But is not that our Parmeno? ’Tis he.
Parmeno, who is it you’re waiting for
—But is not that our Parmeno? ’Tis he
For certain.—Whom d’ye wait for, Parmeno,
Before that door?
Par. Who’s that? Oh, Sir! you’re welcome: