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Philocleon enters, inebriated and hilarious, carrying a torch; his other hand is occupied with a wholly nude flute-girl; he is followed by a group of angry victims of his exuberance.
Halt! and let everyone begone, or I shall do an evil turn to some of those who insist on following me.  Clear off, rascals, or I shall roast you with this torch! Guest
We shall all make you smart to-morrow for your youthful pranks. We shall come in a body to summon you to justice.