PHILOCLEON. Come, I will turn out the urns. What is the result?
BDELYCLEON. We shall see.—Labes, you stand acquitted.—Eh! father, what's the matter, what is it?
PHILOCLEON. Ah me! ah me! water! water!
BDELYCLEON. Pull yourself together, sir!
PHILOCLEON. Tell me! Is he really acquitted?
BDELYCLEON. Yes, certainly.
PHILOCLEON. Then it's all over with me!
BDELYCLEON. Courage, dear father, don't let this afflict you so terribly.
PHILOCLEON. And so I have charged my conscience with the acquittal of an accused being! What will become of me? Sacred gods! forgive me. I did it despite myself; it is not in my character.
BDELYCLEON. Do not vex yourself, father; I will feed you well, will take you everywhere to eat and drink with me; you shall go to every feast; henceforth your life shall be nothing but pleasure, and Hyperbolus shall no longer have you for a tool. But come, let us go in.