u: I confess it.

GETA. Very well.

DEM. But conscious of the fraud, without a word
In answer or defense, to yield the cause
Tamely to your opponents--did the law
Force you to _that_ too?

PHAED. That's home.

GETA. Give me leave.
I'll manage it.

DEM. I know not what to do:
This stroke has come so unawares upon me,
Beyond all expectation, past belief.
--I'm so enrag'd, I can't compose my mind
To think upon it.--Wherefore ev'ry man,
When his affairs go on most swimmingly,
Ev'n then it most behooves to arm himself
Against the coming storm: loss, danger, exile,
Returning ever let him look to meet;
His son in fault, wife dead, or daughter sick----
All common accidents, and may have happen'd;
That nothing should seem new or strange. But if
Aught has fall'n out beyond his hopes, all that
Let him account clear gain.

GETA. Oh, Phaedria,
'Tis wonderful how much a wiser man
I am than my old master. My misfortunes
I have consider'd well.--At his return
Doom'd to grind ever in the mill, beat, chain'd,
Or set to labor in the fields; of these
Nothing will happen new. If aught falls out
Beyond my hopes, all that I'll count clear gain.
--But why delay t'accost th' old gentleman,
And speak him fair at first? (_PHAEDRIA goes forward._)

DEM. Methinks I see
My nephew Phaedria.

PHAED. My good Uncle, welcome!

DEM. Your servant!--But where's Antipho?

PHAED. I'm glad
To see you safe----

DEM. Well, well!--But answer me.

PHAED. He's well: hard by.--But have affairs turn'd out
According to your wishes?

DEM. Would they had!

PHAED. Why, what's the matter?

DEM. What's the matter, Phaedria?
You've clapp'd up a fine marriage in my absence.

PHAED. What! are you angry with him about that?

GETA. Well counterfeited!

DEM. Should I not be angry?
Let me but set eyes on him, he shall know
That his offenses have converted me
From a mild father to a most severe one.

PHAED. He has done nothing, Uncle, to offend you.

DEM. See, all alike! the whole gang hangs together:
Know one, and you know all.

PHAED. Nay, 'tis not so.

DEM. One does a fault, the other's hard at hand
To bear him out: when t'other slips, _he's_ ready:
Each in their turn!

GETA. I' faith th' old gentleman
Has blunder'd on their humors to a hair.

DEM. If 'twere not so, you'd not defend him, Phaedria.

PHAED. If, Uncle, Antipho has done a wrong,
Or to his interest or reputation,
I am content he suffer as he may:
But if another, w