AGORACRITUS. This will strike the buckler of Cleonymus full in the centre.
DEMOS. None shall ascend the rostrum, unless their chins are bearded.
AGORACRITUS. What then will become of Clisthenes and of Strato?[144]
DEMOS. I wish only to refer to those youths, who loll about the perfume shops, babbling at random, "What a clever fellow is Pheax![145] How cleverly he escaped death! how concise and convincing is his style! what phrases! how clear and to the point! how well he knows how to quell an interruption!"
AGORACRITUS. I thought you were the lover of those pathic minions.
DEMOS. The gods forefend it! and I will force all such fellows to go a-hunting instead of proposing decrees.
AGORACRITUS. In that case, accept this folding-stool, and to carry it this well-grown, big-testicled slave lad. Besides, you may put him to any other purpose you please.
DEMOS. Oh! I am happy indeed to find myself as I was of old!
AGORACRITUS. Aye, you deem yourself happy, when I shall have handed you the truces of thirty years. Truces! step forward![146]
DEMOS. Great gods! how charming they are! Can I do with them as I wish? where did you discover them, pray?