 | Philodamus |  |
SCENE I.
PHILODAMUS, EARINUS.Philodamus.
And now, Earinus, my faithful freedman,
My soul's again at ease.
Earinus.
Most happy hearing.
Philodamus.
Thy approv'd honesty deserves my confidence—
Earinus.
You honour me.
Philodamus.
—So that I fairly own,
Since I discover'd Erato my daughter,
What shall I call it? with an indiscretion
Ill-suited to that tim'rous modesty,
Whose only safe entrenchment is reserve,
Receiv'd the private visits of Epicrates,
My mind has labour'd under some disturbance.
Earinus.
Your pardon! but what shadow of a likelihood,
One of a fame unblemish'd as Epicrates,
Should entertain a thought that might disturb
2
Claim the first rank in Lampsacus?
Philodamus.
None. But my sensibility was wounded,
That she, whose undisguised soul, till now,
I wont to read in, as a book laid open,
Should thus have clos'd the page.
Earinus.
I am surpris'd
A mind, so pois'd as yours, should be industrious
To raise up trouble from so slight a source.
Philodamus.
Thou dost not know the feelings of a father,
Whose apprehensions shoot to the same height,
As does his tenderness; and whose anxiety
Finds objects for itself, where most unlikely.
But to the purpose.—I at length determin'd
To call for explanation from Epicrates.
E'en now I leave him.
Earinus.
And, my Lord, you found him—
Philodamus.
Found him, Earinus? as I could wish.
But see, my son! which cuts our time too short
For more particulars.
[Exit Earinus.
| Philodamus | |