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Xanthias enters, weeping and wailing and rubbing his sides.
Oh! tortoises! happy to have so hard a skin! Oh! creatures full of sense! what a happy thought  to cover your bodies with this shell, which shields it from blows! As for me, I can no longer move; the stick has so belaboured my body. Leader of the Chorus
Why, what's the matter, my child? for, old as he may be, one has the right to call anyone a child who has let himself be beaten. Xanthias
Alas! my master is really the worst of all plagues.  He was the most drunk of all the guests, and yet among them were Hippyllus, Antiphon, Lycon, Lysistratus, Theophrastus and Phrynichus. But he was a hundred times more insolent than any. As soon as he had stuffed himself with a host of good dishes,  he began to leap and spring, to laugh and to fart like a little ass well stuffed with barley. Then he set to beating me with all his heart, shouting, "Slave! slave!" Lysistratus, as soon as he saw him, let fly this comparison at him. "Old fellow," said he, "you resemble one of the scum assuming the airs of a rich man or  a stupid ass that has broken loose from its stable." "As for you," bawled the other at the top of his voice, "you are like a grasshopper, whose cloak is worn to the thread, or like Sthenelus after his clothes had been sold." All applauded excepting Theophrastus,  who made a grimace as behoved a well-bred man like him. The old man called to him, "Hi! tell me then what you have to be proud of? Not so much mouthing, you, who so well know how to play the buffoon and to lick-spittle the rich!" In this way he insulted each in turn with the grossest of jests,  and he reeled off a thousand of the most absurd and ridiculous speeches. At last, when he was thoroughly drunk, he started towards here, striking everyone he met. Wait, here he comes reeling along.  I will be off for fear of his blows.