ARIST. Why, you yourself are he; nor is there any slave in Elis of that name, except yourself.
TYND. Do you persist in reproaching me with being a slave—a thing that has befallen me through the fortune of war?
ARIST. Really, now, I cannot contain myself.
TYND. (to HEGIO). Ha! don't you hear him? Why don't you take to flight? He'll be pelting us just now with stones there, unless you order him to be seized.
ARIST. I'm distracted. TYND. His eyes strike fire; there's need of a rope, Hegio. Don't you see how his body is spotted all over with livid spots? Black bile {6} is disordering the man.
ARIST. And, by my faith, if this old gentleman is wise, black pitch {7} will be disordering you with the executioner, and giving a light to your head.
TYND. He's now talking in his fit of delirium; sprites are in possession of the man.
HEG. By my troth, suppose I order him to be seized?
TYND. You would be acting more wisely.
ARIST. I'm vexed that I haven't a stone, to knock out the brains of that whip-scoundrel, who's driving mo to madness by his taunts.