DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! Zeus, whose eye pierces everywhere and embraces all, permit me to assume the most wretched dress on earth. Euripides, cap your kindness by giving me the little Mysian hat, that goes so well with these tatters. I must to-day have the look of a beggar; "be what I am, but not appear to be";[210] the audience will know well who I am, but the Chorus will be fools enough not to, and I shall dupe 'em with my subtle phrases. EURIPIDES. I will give you the hat; I love the clever tricks of an ingenious brain like yours. DICAEOPOLIS. Rest happy, and may it befall Telephus as I wish. Ah! I already feel myself filled with quibbles. But I must have a beggar's staff. EURIPIDES. Here you are, and now get you gone from this porch. DICAEOPOLIS. Oh, my soul! You see how you are driven from this house, when I still need so many accessories. But let us be pressing, obstinate, importunate. Euripides, give me a little basket with a lamp alight inside. EURIPIDES. Whatever do you want such a thing as that for? DICAEOPOLIS. I do not need it, but I want it all the same. EURIPIDES. You importune me; get you gone! DICAEOPOLIS. Alas! may the gods grant you a destiny as brilliant as your mother's.[211] EURIPIDES. Leave me in peace. DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! just a little broken cup. EURIPIDES. Take it and go and hang yourself. What a tiresome fellow! DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! you do not know all the pain you cause me. Dear, good Euripides, nothing beyond a small pipkin stoppered with a sponge. EURIPIDES. Miserable man! You are robbing me of an entire tragedy.[212] Here, take it and be off. DICAEOPOLIS. I am going, but, great gods! I need one thing more; unless I have it, I am a dead man. Hearken, my little Euripides, only give me this and I go, never to return. For pity's sake, do give me a few small herbs for my basket. EURIPIDES. You wish to ruin me then. Here, take what you want; but it is all over with my pieces! DICAEOPOLIS. I won't ask another thing; I'm going. I am too importunate and forget that I rouse against me the hate of kings.--Ah! wretch that I am! I am lost! I have forgotten one thing, without which all the rest is as nothing. Euripides, my excellent Euripides, my dear little Euripides, may I die if I ask you again for the smallest present; only one, the last, absolutely the last; give me some of the chervil your mother left you in her will. EURIPIDES. Insolent hound! Slave, lock the door. DICAEOPOLIS. Oh, my soul! I must go away without the chervil. Art thou sensible of the dangerous battle we are about to engage upon in defending the Lacedaemonians? Courage, my soul, we must plunge into the midst of it. Dost thou hesitate and art thou fully steeped in Euripides? That's right! do not falter, my poor heart, and let us risk our head to say what we hold for truth. Courage and boldly to the front. I wonder I am so brave!