DEMOS. Ah! great gods!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What is the matter?
DEMOS. Away! away out of my sight! 'Tis not my ring he had, 'twas that of Cleonymus. (To the Sausage-seller.) Hold, I give you this one; you shall be my steward.
CLEON. Master, I adjure you, decide nothing till you have heard my oracles.[107]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And mine.
CLEON. If you believe him, you will have to suck his tool for him.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. If you listen to him, you'll have to let him skin your penis to the very stump.
CLEON. My oracles say that you are to reign over the whole earth, crowned with chaplets.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And mine say that, clothed in an embroidered purple robe, you shall pursue Smicythes and her spouse,[108] standing in a chariot of gold and with a crown on your head.
DEMOS. Go, fetch me your oracles, that the Paphlagonian may hear them.