Page:The Eleven Comedies (1912) Vol 1.djvu/257

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And if I batter you to pieces with my fists, what will you do?

I will tear out your lungs and entrails with my teeth.

Oh! what a clever poet is Euripides! how well he says that woman is the most shameless of animals.

Let’s pick up our water-jars again, Rhodippé.

Ah! accursed harlot, what do you mean to do here with your water?

And you, old death-in-life, with your fire? Is it to cremate yourself?

I am going to build you a pyre to roast your female friends upon.

And I,—I am going to put out your fire.

You put out my fire—you!

Yes, you shall soon see.

I don’t know what prevents me from roasting you with this torch.