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Dav. Hist! hark a while,

The hinges of Glycerium's portal creak.

Pam. But that does not concern you.

Dav. I will see.

Pam. Well, and your plan?

Dav. Master, my plan is this.

Mys. Wherever he may be, he sure I'll find him

And bring him hither. Do not fret,—my soul,

And trouble so the flesh.

Pam. Mysis—how now?

Mys. Ah! Pamphilus,—met at a happy time,

I come to seek you.

Pam. Well, and what is it?

Mys. My mistress wishes most impetuously

To see you, Pamphilus: she prays you go,

If that you love her, go!

Pam. This evil grows.

I am undone, undone—behold your work.

She in her misery now supplicates,

Because she hears the rumour of this deed.

Cha. How happy in quiescence had you been,

Had he been quiet.

Dav. Go on—enrage him more—

As if he had not woes enough to bear.

Mys. Ah! edepol she has, and that afflicts her,

Her spirits are depressed and miserably.

Pam. Mysis, I swear, by the great gods I swear,