A Donatist! You carrion! You rotten tree!
Potamon.
Right, right!
Phocion.
You brand for Satan’s furnace!
Potamon.
Right! Give it him; give it him, dear brother.[brother.]
Phocion.
[Pushing the Goldsmith away.] Hold your tongue get you behind me. I know you now;—you are Potamon the Manichæan!
Eunapius.