Zeus. What have we left?
Her. There is Scepticism. Come along, Pyrrhias, and be put up. Quick’s the word. The attendance is dwindling; there will be small competition. Well, who buys Lot 9?
Ninth D. I. Tell me first, though, what do you know?
Sc. Nothing.
Ninth D. But how’s that?
Sc. There does not appear to me to be anything.
Ninth D. Are not we something?
Sc. How do I know that?
Ninth D. And you yourself?
Sc. Of that I am still more doubtful.