Da. Yes.
Ti. And the regulation of the universe is not under any God’s care?
Da. No.
Ti. And everything moves casually, by blind tendency?
Da. Yes.
Ti. Gentlemen, can you tolerate such sentiments? Stone the blasphemer.
Da. What do you mean by hounding them against me? Who are you, that you should protest in the Gods’ name? They do not even protest in their own; they have sent no judgement on me, and they have had time enough to hear me, if they have ears.
Ti. They do hear you; they do; and some day their vengeance will find you out.
Da. Pray when are they likely to have time to spare for me? They are far too busy, according to you, with all the infinite concerns of the universe on their hands. That is why they have never punished you for your perjuries and—well, for the rest of your performances, let me say, not to break our compact about abuse. And yet I am at a loss to conceive any more convincing proof they could have given of their Providence, than if they had trounced you as you deserve. But no doubt they are from home—t’other side of Oceanus, possibly, on a visit to ‘the blameless Ethiopians.’ We know they have a way of going there to dinner, self-invited sometimes.
Ti. What answer is possible to such ribaldry?