Old woman. Yes, my dears.
Gorgo. Has one a tolerable chance of getting there?
Old woman. My pretty young lady, the Greeks got to Troy by dint of trying hard; trying will do anything in this world.
Gorgo. The old creature has delivered an oracle and disappeared.
Praxinoë. Women can tell you everything about everything, even about Jupiter’s marriage with Juno!
Gorgo. Look, Praxinoë, what a squeeze at the palace gates.
Praxinoë. Tremendous! Take hold of me, Gorgo; and you, Eunoë, take hold of Eutychis!—tight hold, or you’ll be lost. Here we go in all together. Hold tight to us, Eunoë! Oh, dear! oh, dear! Gorgo, there’s my scarf torn right in two. For heaven’s sake, my good man, as you hope to be saved, take care of my dress!
Stranger. I’ll do what I can, but it doesn’t depend upon me.
Praxinoë. What heaps of people! They push like a drove of pigs.
Stranger. Don’t be frightened, ma’am, we are all right.