SCYTHIAN. Ah! old woman! what a charming little girl! Not at all the
prude, and so obliging! Eh! where is the old woman? Ah! I am undone! And
the old man, where is he? Hi! old woman! old woman! Ah! but this is a
dirty trick! Artemuxia! she has tricked me, that's what the little old
woman has done! Get clean out of my sight, you cursed quiver! (_Picks it
up and throws it across the stage._) Ha! you are well named quiver, for
you have made me quiver indeed.[647] Oh! what's to be done? Where is the
old woman then? Artemuxia!
CHORUS. Are you asking for the old woman who carried the lyre?
SCYTHIAN. Yes, yes; have you seen her?
CHORUS. She has gone that way along with an old man.
SCYTHIAN. Dressed in a long robe?
CHORUS. Yes; run quick, and you will overtake them.
SCYTHIAN. Ah! rascally old woman! Which way has she fled? Artemuxia!
CHORUS. Straight on; follow your nose. But, hi! where are you running to
now? Come back, you are going exactly the wrong way.
SCYTHIAN. Ye gods! ye gods! and all this while Artemuxia is escaping.
[_Exit running._
CHORUS. Go your way! and a pleasant journey to you! But our sports have
lasted long enough; it is time for each of us to be off home; and may the
two goddesses reward us for our labours!
* * * * *