Don't be afraid. Only, for mercy's sake,
Don't . . .
Xanthias.
Don't do what?
Dionysus.
Don't shift your luggage pole
Across, and say, "I want to blow my nose."
Xanthias (greatly disappointed).
Nor, that I've got such a weight upon my back
That unless some one helps me quickly I shall sneeze?
Dionysus.
Oh, please, no. Keep it till I need emetics.
Xanthias.
Then what's the good of carrying all this lumber
If I mayn't make one single good old wheeze
Like Phrynichus, Ameipsias, and Lykis?
Dionysus.
Ah no ; don't make them.—When I sit down there
[Pointing to the auditorium.
And hear some of those choice products, I go home
A twelvemonth older.
Xanthias (to himself).
Oh, my poor old neck:
Blistered all round, and mustn't say it's blistered,
Because that's funny!
Dionysus.
Airs and insolence!
When I, Dionysus, child of the Great Jug,
