Sim. True; I knew him well.
Chr. He fled from hence and war. He followed me
To Asian shores, where then I was. He led
My daughter with him, daring not to leave her.
And lo! the first that I have heard of her.
Pam. I am beside myself, with spirit stirred
By fears and hope and joy. I am o'erfraught
With gladness, and with unexpected wonder.
Sim. Chremes, I am glad; for many reasons glad,
That you have found your child.
Pam. Surely, my father.
Chr. But one doubt troubles me—one doubt remains.
Pam. Confound your stupid doubt. I hate the man
Seeking for doubts where there can none exist.
Cri. Pronounce it.
Chr. Her name was not Glycerium.
Cri. Assuredly, she had another name.
Chr. What was it?
Cri. Ah! if I can call to mind.
Pam. What, shall I suffer a bad memory
To blight and blast my joy, when I myself
Have the remedial knowledge? I will not.
Chremes, her name was Pasibula then.
Cri. It is.
Chr. It is.
Pam. We often call her so.
Sim. Chremes, I give you joy, I give you joy.
You credit me?
Chr. I do assuredly.
Pam. My father, now———
Sim. My son, the late annoyance
Becomes a blessing now.
