POSIDON. If that be the opinion of both of you, why, I consent too.
HERACLES. Very well! we accord the sceptre.
PISTHETAERUS. Ah! I was nearly forgetting another condition. I will leave Here to Zeus, but only if the young Basileia is given me in marriage.
POSIDON. Then you don't want peace. Let us withdraw.
PISTHETAERUS. It matters mighty little to me. Cook, look to the gravy.
HERACLES. What an odd fellow this Posidon is! Where are you off to? Are we going to war about a woman?
POSIDON. What else is there to do?
HERACLES. What else? Why, conclude peace.
POSIDON. Oh! the ninny! do you always want to be fooled? Why, you are seeking your own downfall. If Zeus were to die, after having yielded them the sovereignty, you would be ruined, for you are the heir of all the wealth he will leave behind.
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