No More Learning

Oh! what a ghastly pallor!

BLEPSIDEMUS. 'Tis perchance some Erinnys, some Fury, from the
theatre;[770] there's a kind of wild tragedy look in her eyes.

CHREMYLUS. But she has no torch.

BLEPSIDEMUS. Let's knock her down!

POVERTY. Who do you think I am?

CHREMYLUS. Some wine-shop keeper or egg-woman. Otherwise you would not
have shrieked so loud at us, who have done nothing to you.

POVERTY. Indeed?
And have you not done me the most deadly injury by
seeking to banish me from every country?

CHREMYLUS. Why, have you not got the Barathrum[771] left? But who are
you? Answer me quickly!

POVERTY. I am one that will punish you this very day for having wanted to
make me disappear from here.

BLEPSIDEMUS. Might it be the tavern-keeper in my neighbourhood, who is
always cheating me in measure?

POVERTY. I am Poverty, who have lived with you for so many years.

BLEPSIDEMUS. Oh! great Apollo! oh, ye gods! whither shall I fly?