But you were not pregnant yesterday!
Well, I am to-day. Oh! let me go in search of the midwife,
Lysistrata, quick, quick!
What is this fable you are telling me? (Feeling her stomach) Ah!
what have you got there so hard?
A male child.
No, no, by Aphrodite! nothing of the sort! Why, it feels like
something hollow-a pot or a kettle. (Opening her robe) Oh! you silly
creature, if you have not got the sacred helmet of Pallas-and you said
you were with child!
And so I am, by Zeus, I am!
Then why this helmet, pray?
For fear my pains should seize me in the Acropolis; I mean to
lay my eggs in this helmet, as the doves do.