Act III, Scene VI

Enter SOPHRONA from the house of DEMIPHO, at a distance.

SOPH. (to herself.) What am I to do? What friend, in my distress, shall I find, to whom to disclose these plans; and where shall I look for relief? For I’m afraid that my mistress, in consequence of my advice, may undeservingly sustain some injury, so extremely ill do I hear that the young man’s father takes what has happened.

CHREM. (apart, to himself.) But what old woman’s this, that has come out of my brother’s house, half dead with fright?

SOPH. (to herself, continuing.) It was distress that compelled me to this step, though I knew that the match was not likely to hold good; my object was, that in the mean time life might be supported.

CHREM. (apart, to himself.) Upon my faith, surely, unless my recollection deceives me, or my sight’s not very good, I espy my daughter’s nurse.

SOPH. (to herself.) And we are not able to find----

CHREM. (apart.) What must I do?

SOPH. (to herself.) Her father.

CHREM. (to himself, apart.) Shall I accost her, or shall I wait to learn more distinctly what it is she’s saying?

SOPH. (to herself.) If now I could find him, there’s nothing that I should be in fear of.

CHREM. (apart, to himself, aloud.) ’Tis the very woman. I’ll address her.

SOPH. (turning round.) Who’s that speaking here?

CHREM. (coming forward.) Sophrona.

SOPH. Mentioning my name, too?

CHREM. Look round at me.

SOPH. (seeing him.) Ye Gods, I do beseech you, isn’t this Stilpho?

CHREM. No.

SOPH. Do you deny it?

CHREM. (in a low voice.) Step a little this way from that door, Sophrona, if you please (pointing). Don’t you, henceforth, be calling me by that name.

SOPH. Why? Pray, are you not the person you always used to say you were?

CHREM. Hush! (pointing to his own house.)

SOPH. Why are you afraid about that door?

CHREM. (in a low voice.) I have got a shrew of a wife shut up there. For by that name I formerly falsely called myself, in order that you might not chance indiscreetly to blab it out of doors, and then my wife, by some means or other, might come to know of it.

SOPH. I’ faith, that’s the very reason why we, wretched creatures, have never been able to find you out here.

CHREM. Well, but tell me, what business have you with that family from whose house you were coming out? Where are the ladies?

SOPH. Ah, wretched me!

CHREM. Hah! What’s the matter? Are they still alive?

SOPH. Your daughter is alive. Her poor mother died of grief.

CHREM. An unfortunate thing!

SOPH. As for me, being a lone old woman, in want, and unknown, I contrived, as well as I could, to get the young woman married to the young man who is master of this house (pointing).

CHREM. What! to Antipho?

SOPH. The very same, I say.

CHREM. What? Has he got two wives?

SOPH. Dear no, prithee, he has only got this one.

CHREM. What about the other one that’s called his relative?

SOPH. Why, this is she.

CHREM. What is it you say?

SOPH. It was done on purpose, in order that her lover might be enabled to marry her without a portion.

CHREM. Ye Gods, by our trust in you! How often do those things come about through accident, which you couldn’t dare to hope for? On my return, I have found my daughter matched with the very person I wished, and just as I wanted; a thing that we were both using our endeavors, with the greatest earnestness, to bring about. Without any very great management on our part, by her own management, she has by herself brought this about.

SOPH. Now consider what’s to be done. The young man’s father has returned, and they say that he bears this with feelings highly offended.

CHREM. There’s no danger of that. But, by Gods and men, do take care that no one comes to know that she’s my daughter.

SOPH. No one shall know it from me.

CHREM. Follow me; in-doors we’ll hear the rest. (He goes into DEMIPHO’S house, followed by SOPHRONA.)