PHILOCLEON. And what good is that, if he eats the cheese?
BDELYCLEON. What? he fights for you, he guards your door; 'tis an excellent dog in every respect. Forgive him his larceny; he is wretchedly ignorant, he cannot play the lyre.
PHILOCLEON. I wish he did not know how to write either; then the rascal would not have drawn up his pleadings.
BDELYCLEON. Witnesses, I pray you, listen. Come forward, grafting-knife, and speak up; answer me clearly. You were paymaster at the time. Did you grate out to the soldiers what was given you?—He says he did so.
PHILOCLEON. But, by Zeus! he lies.
BDELYCLEON. Oh! have patience. Take pity on the unfortunate. Labes feeds only on fish-bones and fishes' heads and has not an instant of peace. The other is good only to guard the house; he never moves from here, but demands his share of all that is brought in and bites those who refuse.
PHILOCLEON. Oh! Heaven! have I fallen ill? I feel my anger cooling! Woe to me! I am softening!
BDELYCLEON. Have pity, father, pity, I adjure you; you would not have him dead. Where are his puppies? Come, poor little beasties, yap, up on your haunches, beg and whine!
PHILOCLEON. Descend, descend, descend, descend![104]
BDELYCLEON. I will descend, although that word, "descend," has too often raised false hope. None the less, I will descend.