PHILOCLEON. Plague seize it! Have I then done wrong to eat! What! I to be crying! Ah! I certainly should not be weeping, if I were not blown out with lentils.
BDELYCLEON. Then he is acquitted?
PHILOCLEON. I did not say so.
BDELYCLEON. Ah! my dear father, be good! be humane! Take this voting pebble and rush with your eyes closed to that second urn[105] and, father, acquit him.
PHILOCLEON. No, I know no more how to acquit than to play the lyre.
BDELYCLEON. Come quickly, I will show you the way.
PHILOCLEON. Is this the first urn?
BDELYCLEON. Yes.
PHILOCLEON. Then I have voted.
BDELYCLEON (aside). I have fooled him and he has acquitted in spite of himself.