BLEPYRUS. There will be no more thieves then, eh? PRAXAGORA. Why steal, if you have a share of everything? BLEPYRUS. People will not be robbed any more at night? PRAXAGORA. No, whether you sleep at home or in the street, there will be no more danger, for all will have the means of living. Besides, if anyone wanted to steal your cloak, you would give it him yourself. Why not? You will only have to go to the common store and be given a better one. BLEPYRUS. There will be no more playing at dice? PRAXAGORA. What object will there be in playing? BLEPYRUS. But what kind of life is it you propose to set up? PRAXAGORA. The life in common. Athens will become nothing more than a single house, in which everything will belong to everyone; so that everybody will be able to go from one house to the other at pleasure. BLEPYRUS. And where will the meals be served? PRAXAGORA. The law-courts and the porticoes will be turned into dining-halls. BLEPYRUS. And what will the speaker's platform be used for? PRAXAGORA. I shall place the bowls and the ewers there; and young children will sing the glory of the brave from there, also the infamy of cowards, who out of very shame will no longer dare to come to the public meals. BLEPYRUS. Well thought of, by Apollo! And what will you do with the urns? PRAXAGORA. I shall have them taken to the market-place, and standing close to the statue of Harmodius,[697] I shall draw a lot for each citizen, which by its letter will show the place where he must go to dine.[698] Thus, those for whom I have drawn a Beta, will go to the royal portico;[699] if 'tis a Theta, they will go to the portico of Theseus;[700] if 'tis a Kappa, to that of the flour-market.[701] BLEPYRUS. To cram[702] himself there like a capon? PRAXAGORA. No, to dine there. BLEPYRUS. And the citizen whom the lot has not given a letter showing where he is to dine will be driven off by everyone? PRAXAGORA. But that will not occur. Each man will have plenty; he will not leave the feast until he is well drunk, and then with a chaplet on his head and a torch in his hand; and then the women running to meet you in the cross-roads will say, "This way, come to our house, you will find a beautiful young girl there."--"And I," another will call from her balcony, "have one so pretty and as white as milk; but before touching her, you must sleep with me." And the ugly men, watching closely after the handsome fellows, will say, "Hi! friend, where are you running to? Go in, but you must do nothing, for 'tis the ugly and the flat-nosed to whom the law gives the first right of admission; amuse yourself in the porch while you wait, in handling your fig-leaves and playing with your tool." Well, tell me, does that picture suit you? BLEPYRUS. Marvellously well.