YOUTH. My ancient old dear, you have grown white very quickly, by heaven!
OLD WOMAN. Oh! what an insult!
CHREMYLUS. It is a long time, then, since he saw you?
OLD WOMAN. A long time? My god! he was with me yesterday.
CHREMYLUS. It must be, then, that, unlike other people, he sees more clearly when he's drunk.
OLD WOMAN. No, but I have always known him for an insolent fellow.
YOUTH. Oh! divine Posidon! Oh, ye gods of old age! what wrinkles she has on her face!
OLD WOMAN. Oh! oh! keep your distance with that torch.
CHREMYLUS. Yes, 'twould be as well; if a single spark were to reach her, she would catch alight like an old olive branch.
YOUTH. I propose to have a game with you.