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CHORUS
Come, let us seek the rascal; let us look everywhere, carrying our stones in our hands; let us hunt him from place to place until we trap him; I could never, never tire of the delight of stoning him. DICAEOPOLIS
Peace! profane men!1 CHORUS
Silence all! Friends, do you hear the sacred formula? Here is he, whom we seek! This way, all! Get out of his way, surely he comes to offer an oblation.
1 A sacred formula, pronounced by the priest before offering the sacrifice.
Aristophanes. Acharnians. The Eleven Comedies. Anonymous. New York. Liveright. 192?.