CHORUS
No, a thousand times, no.

DICAEOPOLIS
This is a hateful injustice.

CHORUS
May I die, if I listen.

DICAEOPOLIS
Nay, nay! have mercy, have mercy, Acharnians.

CHORUS
You shall die.

DICAEOPOLIS
Well, blood for blood! I will kill your dearest friend. I have
here the hostages of Acharnae;[1] I shall disembowel them.

f[1] That is, the baskets of charcoal.

CHORUS
Acharnians, what means this threat? Has he got one of our children
in his house? What gives him such audacity?

DICAEOPOLIS
Stone me, if it please you; I shall avenge myself on this.
(SHOWS A BASKET.) Let us see whether you have any love
for your coals.