O unwise and foolish people,
yet to mend your ways begin;
Use again the good and useful:
so hereafter, if ye win
'Twill be due to this your wisdom:
if ye fall, at least 'twill be
Not a fall that brings dishonour,
falling from a worthy tree.
Enter AEACUS, XANTHIAS and two attendants.
By Zeus the Saviour, quite the gentleman
Your master is.
Gentleman? I believe you.
He's all for wine and women, is my master.
But not to have flogged you, when the truth came out
That you, the slave, were passing off as master!
He'd get the worst of that.
Bravo! that's spoken
Like a true slave: that's what I love myself.
You love it, do you?
Love it? I'm entranced
When I can curse my lord behind his back.
How about grumbling, when you have felt the stick,
And scurry out of doors?
That's jolly too.
How about prying?
That beats everything,
Great Kin-god Zeus! And what of overhearing
Your master's secrets?
What? I'm mad with joy.
And blabbing them abroad?
O heaven and earth!
When I do that, I can't contain myself.
Phoebus Apollo! clap your hand in mine,
Kiss and be kissed: and prithee tell me this,
Tell me by Zeus, our rascaldom's own god,
What's all that noise within? What means this hubbub
That's Aeschylus and Euripides.
Wonderful, wonderful things are going on.
The dead are rioting, taking different sides.
Why, what's the matter?
There's a custom here