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The Wasps   


have never been there.
PHILOCLEON
Of course not, but it seems to me exactly like the mantle Morychus
sports.
BDELYCLEON
Not at all; I tell you they are woven at Ecbatana.
PHILOCLEON
What! are there woollen ox-guts then at Ecbatana?
BDELYCLEON
Whatever are you talking about? These are woven by the
barbarians at great cost. I am certain this pelisse has consumed
more than a talent of wool.
PHILOCLEON
It should be called wool-waster then instead of pelisse.
BDELYCLEON
Come, father, just hold still for a moment and put it on.
PHILOCLEON
Oh! horrors! what a waft of heat the hussy sends up my nose!
BDELYCLEON
Will you have done with this fooling?
PHILOCLEON
No by Zeus.
BDELYCLEON
But good sir....
PHILOCLEON
If need be, I prefer you should put me in the oven.
BDELYCLEON
Come, I will put it round you. There!
PHILOCLEON
At all events, bring out a crook.
BDELYCLEON
Why, whatever for?
PHILOCLEON
To drag me out of it before I am quite melted.
BDELYCLEON
Now take off those wretched clogs and put on these nice Laconian
slippers.
PHILOCLEON
I put on odious slippers made by our foes! Never
BDELYCLEON
Come! put your foot in and push hard. Quick!
PHILOCLEON
You're doing wrong here. You want me to put my foot on Laconian
ground.
BDELYCLEON
Now the other.
PHILOCLEON
Ah! no, not that foot; one of its toes holds the Laconians in
horror
BDELYCLEON
Positively you must.
PHILOCLEON
Alas! alas! Then I shall have no chilblains in my old age.
BDELYCLEON
Now, hurry up and get them on; and now imitate the easy effeminate
gait of the rich. See, like this.
(He takes a few steps.)
PHILOCLEON (trying to do likewise)
There!.... Look at my get-up and tell me which rich man I most
resemble in my walk.
BDELYCLEON
Why, you look like a garlic plaster on a boil.
PHILOCLEON
Ah! I am longing to swagger and sway my arse about.

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