MEGARIAN. Are you not holding back the salt?
DICAEOPOLIS. 'Tis garlic then?
MEGARIAN. What! garlic! do you not at every raid grub up the ground with your pikes to pull out every single head?
DICAEOPOLIS. What do you bring then?
MEGARIAN. Little sows, like those they immolate at the Mysteries.
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! very well, show me them.
MEGARIAN. They are very fine; feel their weight. See! how fat and fine.
DICAEOPOLIS. But what is this?
MEGARIAN. A sow, for a certainty.[233]
DICAEOPOLIS. You say a sow! of what country, then?