CEPHISOPHON.
Who's there?
DIKAIOPOLIS.
Is Euripides within?
CEPHISOPHON.
Within, and not within: Can'st fathom that?
DIKAIOPOLIS.
How within, yet not within?
CEPHISOPHON.
'Tis true, old fellow.
His mind is out collecting dainty verses, [1]
And not within. But he's himself aloft
Writing a tragedy.
DIKAIOPOLIS.
Happy Euripides,
Whose servant here can give such witty answers.
Call him.
CEPHISOPHON.
It may not be.
DIKAIOPOLIS.
I say, you must though—
For hence I will not budge, but knock the door down.
Euripides, Euripides, my darling! [2]
Hear me, at least, if deaf to all besides.
'Tis Dikaiopolis of Chollis calls you.
EURIPIDES.
I have not time.
DIKAIOPOLIS.
At least roll round. [3]