Will you have the
goodness
to stop.
Aristophanes
POVERTY. I am Poverty, who have lived with you for so many years.
BLEPSIDEMUS. Oh! great Apollo! oh, ye gods! whither shall I fly?
CHREMYLUS. Now then! what are you doing? You poltroon! Will you kindly
stop here?
BLEPSIDEMUS. Not I.
CHREMYLUS.
Will you have the goodness to stop. Are two men to fly from a
woman?
BLEPSIDEMUS. But, you wretch, 'tis Poverty, the most fearful monster that
ever drew breath.
CHREMYLUS. Stay where you are, I beg of you.
BLEPSIDEMUS. No! no! a thousand times, no!
CHREMYLUS. Could we do anything worse than leave the god in the lurch and
fly before this woman without so much as ever offering to fight?
BLEPSIDEMUS. But what weapons have we? Are we in a condition to show
fight? Where is the breastplate, the buckler, that this wretch has not
pledged?
