odice becomes you wonderfully. Tell me, how
much did the stuff cost you just off the loom?

PRAXINOE.--Don't speak of it, Gotgo! More than eight pounds in good
silver money,--and the work on it! I nearly slaved my soul out over it!

GORGO.--Well, it is _most_ successful; all you could wish.

PRAXINOE,--Thanks for the pretty speech! Bring my shawl, and set my hat
on my head, the fashionable way. No, child, I don't mean to take you.
Boo! Bogies! There's a horse that bites! Cry as much as you please, but
I cannot have you lamed. Let us be moving. Phrygia, take the child and
keep him amused, call in the dog, and shut the street door.

(_They go into the street_.)

Ye gods, what a crowd! How on earth are we ever to get through this
coil? They are like ants that no one can measure or number. Many a good
deed have you done, Ptolemy; since your father joined the Immortals,
there's never a malefactor to spoil the passer-by, creeping on him in
Egyptian fashion--oh! the tricks those perfect rascals used to play.
Birds of a feather, ill jesters, scoundrels all! Dear Gorgo, what will
become of us? Here come the king's war horses! My dear man, don't
trample on me. Look, the bay's rearing; see, what temper! Eunoe, you
foolhardy girl, will you never keep out of the way? The beast will kill
the man that's leading him. What a good thing it is for me that my brat
stays safe at home!

GORGO.--Courage, Praxinoe. We are safe behind them now, and they have
gone to their station.

PRAXINOE.--There! I begin to be myself again. Ever since I was a child,
I have feared nothing so much as horses and the chilly snake. Come
along, the huge mob is overflowing us.

GORGO (_to an old woman_).--Are you from the Court, mother?

OLD WOMAN.--I am, my child.

PRAXINOE.--Is it easy to get there?

OLD WOMAN.--The Achaeans got into Troy by trying, my prettiest of ladies.
Trying will do everything in the long run.

GORGO.--The old wife has spoken her oracles, and off she goes.

PRAXINOE.--Women know everything; yes, and how Zeus married Hera!

GORGO.--See, Praxinoe, what a crowd there is about the doors!

PRAXINOE.--Monstrous, Gorgo! Give me your hand; and you, Eunoe, catch
hold of Eutychis; never lose hold of her, for fear lest you get lost.
Let us all go in together; Eunoe, clutch tight to me. Oh, how tiresome,
Gorgo, my muslin veil is torn in two already! For heaven's sake, sir,
if you ever wish to be fortunate, take care of my shawl!

STRA