The party are come, as usual, to summon their trusty comrade Philocleon to go with them to the courts. What makes him so late this morning? He was never wont to be the last on these occasions. They knock at the door, and call him loudly by name. He puts his head out of the window, and begging them not to make such a noise for fear they should awake his guard, explains to them his unfortunate case. He will try to let himself down to the street by a rope, if they will catch him,--and if he should fall and break his neck, they must promise to bury him with all professional honours “within the bar.” But he is discovered in the attempt by one of the watchful slaves, and thrust back again. Then the leader of the Chorus, a veteran Wasp who has seen service, cheers on his troops to the attack of the fortress in which their comrade is so unjustifiably confined. He reminds them of the exploits of their youth:-- Forward, good friends--advance! Quick march!--Now, Comias, why so slow, man? There was a day when I may say you and I gave way to no man; Then you were as tough as dog’s hide--now Charinades moves faster! Ha! Strymodorus! in the Courts ’twere hard to find your master! Where’s Chabes? and Euérgides?--do any of ye know?-- Alack! alack! for the young blood that warmed us long ago! Dost mind when at Byzantium we two kept watch together, And walked our rounds at night, old boy, in that tremendous weather? And how we stole the kneading-trough from that old baker’s wife, Split it, and fried our rations with it?--Ha, ha!--Ay, _that_ was life! Shakspeare had assuredly never read ‘The Wasps;’ but the mixture of the farcical with the pathetic which always accompanies the garrulous reminiscences of old age, and which Aristophanes introduces frequently in his comedies, is common to both these keen observers. In the comrades of the old Athenian’s youth we seem to recognise Master Shallow’s _quondam_ contemporaries: “There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barr, and Francis Pickbone, and “Will Squele, a Cotswold man,--you had not four such swinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again.... O the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead!”[42] A battle-royal takes place on the stage; the Wasps, with their formidable stings, trying to storm the house, while the son and his retainers defend their position with clubs and other weapons, and especially by raising a dense smoke, which is known to be very effective against such an enemy.