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?
CHORUS. No, a thousand times, no.
DICAEOPOLIS. This is a hateful injustice.
CHORUS. May I die, if I listen.
DICAEOPOLIS. Nay, nay! have mercy, have mercy, Acharnians.
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