CHORUS. Meanwhile, you must devise some new dodge, so that you can come down here without his knowledge.
PHILOCLEON. But what? Try to find some way. For myself, I am ready for anything, so much do I burn to run along the tiers of the tribunal with my voting-pebble in my hand.
CHORUS. There is surely some hole through which you could manage to squeeze from within, and escape dressed in rags, like the crafty Odysseus.[52]
PHILOCLEON. Everything is sealed fast; not so much as a gnat could get through. Think of some other plan; there is no possible hold of escape.
CHORUS. Do you recall how, when you were with the army at the taking of Naxos,[53] you descended so readily from the top of the wall by means of the spits you have stolen?
PHILOCLEON. I remember that well enough, but what connection is there with present circumstances? I was young, clever at thieving, I had all my strength, none watched over me, and I could run off without fear. But to-day men-at-arms are placed at every outlet to watch me, and two of them are lying in wait for me at this very door armed with spits, just as folk lie in wait for a cat that has stolen a piece of meat.
CHORUS. Come, discover some way as quick as possible. Here is the dawn come, my dear little friend.
PHILOCLEON. The best way is to gnaw through the net. Oh! goddess, who watches over the nets,[54] forgive me for making a hole in this one.
CHORUS. 'Tis acting like a man eager for his safety. Get your jaws to work!
PHILOCLEON. There! 'tis gnawed through! But no shouting! let Bdelycleon notice nothing!