Phocion.
[Beating him with his stick.] Take that—and that—and that!
Eunapius.
[Kicking him.] And this—and this! I’ll baste your god-detested skin for you!
[The Fruit-seller hastens away.
Phocion.
[With the evident intention of being heard by the Captain of the Guard.] It is much to be desired that some one should bring this scene to our blessed Emperor’s ears. The Emperor has lately expressed his displeasure at the way in which we Christian citizens consort with the heathen, just as if no gulf divided us——
Potamon.
You refer to that placard in the market-places? I too have read it. And I hold that, as there is both true and false gold in the world——
Eunapius.