No More Learning

_)

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Was it hot?

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Hot, great gods! Enough, enough!

CHORUS OF WOMEN. I'm watering you, to make you bloom afresh.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Alas! I am too dry! Ah, me!
how I am trembling with
cold!

MAGISTRATE. These women, have they made din enough, I wonder, with their
tambourines? bewept Adonis enough upon their terraces? [419] I was
listening to the speeches last assembly day,[420] and Demostratus,[421]
whom heaven confound! was saying we must all go over to Sicily--and lo!
his wife was dancing round repeating: Alas! alas! Adonis, woe is me for
Adonis!

Demostratus was saying we must levy hoplites at Zacynthus[422]--and lo!
his wife, more than half drunk, was screaming on the house-roof: "Weep,
weep for Adonis! "--while that infamous _Mad Ox_[423] was bellowing away
on his side. --Do ye not blush, ye women, for your wild and uproarious
doings?

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. But you don't know all their effrontery yet! They
abused and insulted us; then soused us with the water in their
water-pots, and have set us wringing out our clothes, for all the world
as if we had bepissed ourselves.