They were hardly gone, e’re Eumolpus bounc’d in upon us, for the broken door cou’d stop nobody, and, in a great heat, cry’d out, “I’ll earn the reward: I’ll make after the Cryer, and let him know how soon Gito may be in his custody.”
Eumolpus pursuing his design, I kist his knees, and intreated him not to anticipate the end of dying men; “you wou’d be justly angry,” added I, “if you shou’d discover to ’em how you are deceiv’d: The boy run into the crowd undiscovered, and where he is gone, my self can’t suspect. I beseech you, Eumolpus, bring back the boy, or at least restore him even to Ascyltos.”
Just as I had worked him to a belief, Gito, with restraining his breath, snees’d thrice so thoroughly, that he shook the bed; at which Eumolpus, turning about, saluted him with, “God bless you, sir;” and, taking the bedding aside, saw the little Ulysses, who might have raised compassion, even in a blood-thirsty Cyclops: then looking upon me, “Thou villain,” says he, “how have you shamm’d me? Durst you not tell truth, even when you was catch’d in a roguery? If some god, that has the care of humane affairs, had not forc’d the boy to discover himself, I had wander’d in search of him to a fine purpose.” But Gito, that cou’d fawn much better than I, took a cobweb dipt in oyl, and apply’d to the wound in his forehead: And changing his torn coat for his own mantle, imbrac’d the now reconcil’d Eumolpus, and stuck to his lips: at last he spoke, and, “Our lives,” said he, “most indulgent father, our lives are in your power; if you love your Gito, convince him that you do, by preserving him: O! could I now meet a grave in flames or waves, that I, the only cause of all, might end your quarrels.”
Eumolpus, concern’d at our grief, and particularly mindful of Gito’s tenderness to him; “surely,” says he, “y’are the greatest of fools, who have souls enrich’d with virtues, that may make ye happy, yet live a continu’d martyrdom, raising to your selves every day new occasions of grief; I, wherever I am, make my life as pleasant and free from trouble, as if I expected no more of it: If you’ll imitate me, never let cares disturb your quiet. And to avoid Ascyltos that haunts ye in these parts, I am taking a voyage to a foreign country, and shou’d be glad of your company: I believe to morrow night I shall go on board the vessel: I am very well known there, and you need not doubt of a civil entertainment.”
His advice appear’d to me both wise and profitable; for at once it deliver’d me from Ascyltos, and gave me hopes of living more happy: Thus oblig’d by Eumolpus’s good nature, I was sorry for the late injury I had done him, and began to repent I appear’d his rival, since it had occasion’d so many disasters.


