Clit. (listening.) Girls, Clinia! do you hear?
Clin. I hear, I see,
And now, at last, I’m happy, Clitipho.
Dromo (to Syrus). Left behind! troth, no wonder: so encumber’d;
A troop of waiting-women at her heels!
Clin. (listening). Confusion! Whence should she have waiting-women?
Clit. How can I tell?
Syrus (to Dromo). We ought not to have dropp’d them.
They bring a world of baggage!
Clin. (listening). Death!