DIONYSUS. Faith! 'twould be funny indeed if Xanthias, a slave, were indolently stretched out on purple cushions and fucking the dancing-girl; if he were then to ask me for a pot, while I, looking on, would be rubbing my tool, and this master rogue, on seeing it, were to know out my front teeth with a blow of his fist.
FIRST INKEEPER'S WIFE. Here! Plathane, Plathane! do come! here is the rascal who once came into our shop and ate up sixteen loaves for us.
SECOND INKEEPER'S WIFE. Aye, truly, 'tis he himself!
XANTHIAS. This is turning out rough for somebody.
FIRST WIFE. And besides that, twenty pieces of boiled meat at half an obolus apiece.
XANTHIAS. There's someone going to get punished.
FIRST WIFE. And I don't know how many cloves of garlic.
DIONYSUS. You are rambling, my dear, you don't know what you are saying.
FIRST WIFE. Hah! you thought I should not know you, because of your buskins! And then all the salt fish, I had forgotten that!
SECOND WIFE. And then, alas! the fresh cheese that he devoured, osier baskets and all! Ten, when I asked for my money, he started to roar and shoot terrible looks at me.