From his content I ever drew my own.
Clin. (overhearing). Excellentmaid! my best Antiphila! Thou too, thy love alone is now the cause That brings me to my native land again. For when away, all evils else were light Compar’d to wanting thee. Syrus. I do believe it. | (Apart.) | |
Clin. O Syrus, ’tis too much: I can notbear it. Wretch that I am!—and must I be debarr’d To give a loose to love, a love like this? Syrus. And yet if I may judge yourfather’s mind, He has more troubles yet in store for you. |
Bacch. Who is that youth that eyes us? (Seeing Clinia.)
Anti. Ha! (seeing him.)—Support me!
Bacch. Bless me, what now?
Anti. I faint.
Bacch. Alas, poor soul!
What is’t surprises you, Antiphila?
Anti. Is’t Clinia that I see, or no?
Bacch. Whom do you see?