Scene IV

Manent Simo, Chremes.

—By Heav’n,

As I do live, I’ll make you know this day

What peril lies in trifling with a master,

And make him know what ’tis to plague a father.

Chremes. Ah, be not in such rage.

Simo. Oh Chremes, Chremes,

Filial unkindness!—Don’t you pity me!

To feel all this for such a thankless son!——

Here, Pamphilus, come forth! ho, Pamphilus!

Have you no shame? (Calling at Glycerium’s door.)