There is a terrible uproar in the meeting, and the intruder, after a sharp cross-examination by a shrewish dame, is soon detected. To save himself from the vengeance of the exasperated women, he flies for refuge to the altar, snatching a baby from one of their number, and (like Dicæopolis in 'The Acharnians')[1] threatens to kill it at once unless they let him go. But the women who have no babies display a good deal of indifference to his threats, and vow they will burn him, then and there, whatever happens to the unfortunate hostage. Mnesilochus proceeds to strip it, when, lo! it turns out to be nothing more or less than a wine-skin in baby's clothes. He will cut its throat, nevertheless. The foster-mother is almost as much distressed as if it were a real child.
Woman. Hold, I beseech you! Never be so cruel!
Do what you will with me, but spare my darling.
Mnes. I know you love it—it's a woman's weakness—
But, none the less, its blood must flow to-day.
Wom. O my poor child!—Bring us a bowl, dear Mania!
If it must die, do let us catch its blood.
Mnes. Well—hold it under. I'll oblige you. (Slits the
wine-skin, and drinks off the contents) There!
And here's the skin of the victim—for the priestess.
Mnesilochus is detained in custody until the constables can be sent for. In this strait he naturally looks to Euripides, on whose account he has got into
- ↑ The "situation" seems to have been a favourite one. It may be remembered in Kotzebue's play, which Sheridan turned into 'Pizarro,' in the scene where Rolla carries off Cora's child.
