What are you daring to do, you
pitiful, wretched mortals?
pitiful, wretched mortals?
Aristophanes
BLEPSIDEMUS. 'Tis a positive fact, I don't know of one.
CHREMYLUS. But I have thought the matter well over, and the best thing is
to make Plutus lie in the Temple of Aesculapius. [769]
BLEPSIDEMUS. Aye, unquestionably 'tis the very best thing. Be quick and
lead him away to the Temple.
CHREMYLUS. I am going there.
BLEPSIDEMUS. Then hurry yourself.
CHREMYLUS. 'Tis just what I am doing.
POVERTY. Unwise, perverse, unholy men!
What are you daring to do, you
pitiful, wretched mortals? Whither are you flying? Stop! I command it!
BLEPSIDEMUS. Oh! great gods!
POVERTY. My arm shall destroy you, you infamous beings! Such an attempt
is not to be borne; neither man nor god has ever dared the like. You
shall die!
CHREMYLUS. And who are you? Oh! what a ghastly pallor!
BLEPSIDEMUS.
