Dav. I'm in a mess. Now, with the right foot forward,
Sent to the mill. Prayer will be useless now.
I have upset all—I have deceived my master,
Hurled him into a marriage that he hates—
And hurried on, despite of the old man,
Against the will of Pamphilus. Zounds, I'm astute!
If I had never meddled—never made,
This had not come to pass. Ah! Pamphilus
Himself; I sink—I faint. Oh, that there were
A precipice whence I might cast myself!
ACT III.—Scene 6.—Pamphilus—Davus.
Pam. Where is that villain who has ruined me?
Dav. I am undone!
Pam. And I need blame myself.
Incredible stupidity! to trust
One's dearest fortunes to a stolid slave!
I reap the fruits of my absurdity,
But he shall not unpunished so depart.
Dav. If I get out of this, I need not fear
The future pranks of fortune.
Pam. What can I
Say to my father; that I will not marry—
When but an hour since I gave consent.
With what face can I say so? I know not
What I can do.
Dav. Nor I—howe'er I search;
And yet not so, for I have a device,
Which now I must impart to him, and will.
Pam. Oh!
Dav. He spies me.
