Platonists first!

No, no; Pythagoreans first; our master is senior.

Rubbish! the Porch is the best.

Now, now, this is a question of money; Peripatetics first there!

Hand over those cakes and fig-squares; as to the money, Epicureans will not mind waiting till the last.

Where are the two talents? none can touch the Academy at a wrangle; we will soon show you that.

Not if we know it.

Cease your strife. Cynics there, no more pushing! and keep those sticks quiet. You have mistaken the nature of this summons. We three, Philosophy, Virtue, and Truth, are about to decide which are the true philosophers; that done, those whose lives are found to be in accord with our pleasure will be made happy by our award; but the impostors who are not truly of our kin we shall crush as they deserve, that they may no more make vain claims to what is too high for them. Ha! you fly? In good truth they do, jumping down the crags, most of them. Why, the Acropolis is deserted, except for—yes, a few have stood their ground and are not afraid of the judgement.