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 Costs this or that?—No answer. Deaf you think The rogue must be, or stupid; for he heeds not A syllable you say, but o'er his fish Bends silently, like Telephos (and with good reason, For his whole race he knows are cut-throats all). Another minding not, or else not hearing, Pulls by the legs a polypus. A third With saucy carelessness replies: "Four oboli, That's just the price. For this no less than eight. Take it or leave it!"—  (Book vi. § 5, p. 356.)  When our victorious gen'rals knit their brows, Assume a higher tone and loftier gait Than common men, it scarcely moves my wonder— Indeed 'tis natural that the commonwealth Should give to public virtue just rewards— They who have risk'd their lives to serve the state Deserve its highest honours in return, Place and precedence too above their fellows: But I am choked with rage when I behold These saucy fishmongers assume such airs, Now throw their eyes disdainful down, and now Lift their arch'd brows and wrinkle up their fronts— "Say, at what price you sell this brace of mullets?" "Ten oboli," they answer. "Sure you joke; Ten oboli indeed! will you take eight?" "Yes, if you choose but one."—"Come, come, be serious, Nor trifle with your betters thus."—"Pass on, And take your custom elsewhere." 'Tis enough To move our bile to hear such insolence.—  The same.

However, this is still endurable. But when a paltry fishfag will look big, Cast down his eyes affectedly, or bend His eyebrows upwards like a full-strain'd bow, I burst with rage. Demand what price he asks For—say two mullets; and he answers straight