FIRST SERVANT
Come, come, another made from the stool of a young scapegrace catamite.
'Twill be to the beetle's taste; he likes it well ground.

SECOND SERVANT
There! I am free at least from suspicion; none will accuse me of
tasting what I mix.

FIRST SERVANT
Faugh! come, now another! keep on mixing with all your might.

SECOND SERVANT
I' faith, no. I can stand this awful cesspool stench no longer, so I
bring you the whole ill-smelling gear.

FIRST SERVANT
Pitch it down the sewer sooner, and yourself with it.

SECOND SERVANT
Maybe, one of you can tell me where I can buy a stopped-up nose,
for there is no work more disgusting than to mix food for a
beetle and to carry it to him. A pig or a dog will at least pounce
upon our excrement without more ado, but this foul wretch
affects the disdainful, the spoilt mistress, and won't eat unless I
offer him a cake that has been kneaded for an entire day.... But let
us open the door a bit ajar without his seeing it. Has he done eating?
Come, pluck up courage, cram yourself till you burst! The cursed
creature! It wallows in its food! It grips it between its claws like a
wrestler clutching his opponent, and with head and feet together rolls