CHORUS. You ask that, you impudent rascal, traitor to your country; you alone amongst us all have concluded a truce, and you dare to look us in the face!
DICAEOPOLIS. But you do not know _why_ I have treated for peace. Listen!
CHORUS. Listen to you? No, no, you are about to die, we will annihilate you with our stones.
DICAEOPOLIS. But first of all, listen. Stop, my friends.
CHORUS. I will hear nothing; do not address me; I hate you more than I do Cleon,[197] whom one day I shall flay to make sandals for the Knights. Listen to your long speeches, after you have treated with the Laconians! No, I will punish you.
DICAEOPOLIS. Friends, leave the Laconians out of debate and consider only whether I have not done well to conclude my truce.
CHORUS. Done well! when you have treated with a people who know neither gods, nor truth, nor faith.
DICAEOPOLIS. We attribute too much to the Laconians; as for myself, I know that they are not the cause of all our troubles.
CHORUS. Oh, indeed, rascal! You dare to use such language to me and then expect me to spare you!
DICAEOPOLIS. No, no, they are not the cause of all our troubles, and I who address you claim to be able to prove that they have much to complain of in us.
CHORUS. This passes endurance; my heart bounds with fury. Thus you dare to defend our enemies.
DICAEOPOLIS. Were my head on the block I would uphold what I say and rely on the approval of the people.
CHORUS. Comrades, let us hurl our stones and dye this fellow purple.
DICAEOPOLIS. What black fire-brand has inflamed your heart! You will not hear me? You really will not, Acharnians?
DICAEOPOLIS. This is a hateful injustice.
DICAEOPOLIS. Nay, nay! have mercy, have mercy, Acharnians.
DICAEOPOLIS. Well, blood for blood! I will kill your dearest friend. I have here the hostages of Acharnae;[198] I shall disembowel them.
CHORUS. Acharnians, what means this threat? Has he got one of our children in his house? What gives him such audacity?
DICAEOPOLIS. Stone me, if it please you; I shall avenge myself on this. (_Shows a basket_.) Let us see whether you have any love for your coals.
CHORUS. Great gods! this basket is our fellow-citizen. Stop, stop, in heaven's name!
DICAEOPOLIS. I shall dismember it despite your cries; I will listen to nothing.