PRAXAGORA. Go back to your seat, you are wandering.
SEVENTH WOMAN. Ah! I should have done better not to have muffled myself in this beard; my throat's afire and I feel I shall die of thirst.
PRAXAGORA. Who else wishes to speak?
EIGHTH WOMAN. I do.
PRAXAGORA. Quick then, take the chaplet, for time's running short. Try to speak worthily, let your language be truly manly, and lean on your staff with dignity.
EIGHTH WOMAN. I had rather have seen one of your regular orators giving you wise advice; but, as that is not to be, it behoves me to break silence; I cannot, for my part indeed, allow the tavern-keepers to fill up their wine-pits with water.[660] No, by the two goddesses….
PRAXAGORA. What? by the two goddesses![661] Wretched woman, where are your senses?
EIGHTH WOMAN. Eh! what?… I have not asked you for a drink!
PRAXAGORA. No, but you want to pass for a man, and you swear by the two goddesses. Otherwise 'twas very well.
EIGHTH WOMAN. Well then. By Apollo….