PRAXAGORA. With my arms akimbo like this, I will never, never let myself be taken round the middle.
FIRST WOMAN. If they seize you, we will bid them let you go.
SECOND WOMAN. That's the best way. But how are we going to lift up our arm[675] in the Assembly, we, who only know how to lift our legs in the act of love?
PRAXAGORA. 'Tis difficult; yet it must be done, and the arm shown naked to the shoulder in order to vote. Quick now, put on these tunics and these Laconian shoes, as you see the men do each time they go to the Assembly or for a walk. Then this done, fix on your beards, and when they are arranged in the best way possible, dress yourselves in the cloaks you have abstracted from your husbands; finally start off leaning on your staffs and singing some old man's song as the villagers do.
SECOND WOMAN. Well spoken; and let us hurry to get to the Pnyx before the women from the country, for they will no doubt not fail to come there.
PRAXAGORA. Quick, quick, for 'tis all the custom that those who are not at the Pnyx early in the morning, return home empty-handed.