We had better summon the parties, Justice.

True. Only look at the crowd, bustling and buzzing about the hilltop like a swarm of wasps!

I've got you, curse you.

Pooh! a trumped-up charge.

At last! you shall get your deserts this time.

Your villany shall be unmasked.

My jury first, Hermes.

Come along: into court with you, rascal.

You needn’t throttle me.

Do you know what I think we had better do, Hermes? Put off all the other cases for to-morrow, and only take to-day the charges brought by Arts, Professions, and Philosophies. Pick me out all of that kind.

Drink v. the Academy, re Polemon, kidnapped.

Seven jurors.

Porch v. Pleasure. Defendant is charged with seducing Dionysius, plaintiffs admirer.

Five will do for that.

Luxury v. Virtue, re Aristippus.

Five again.

Bank v. Diogenes, alleged to have run away from plaintiffs service.

Three only.

Painting v. Pyrrho. Desertion from the ranks.

That will want nine.

What about these two charges just brought against a thetorician?

No, those can stand over; we must work off the arrears first.

Well, these cases are of just the same kind. They are not old ones, it is true, but they are very like those you have taken, and might fairly be heard with them.

That looks rather like favouritism, Hermes, However, as you like; only these must be the last; we have got quite enough. What are they?

Rhetoric v. a Syrian i.e, Lucian. See Introduction, § 1, Life., for neglect; Dialogue v, the same, for assault.

And who is this Syrian? There is no name given.

That is all: the Syrian rhetorician; he can have a jury without having a name.

So! here on Areopagus I am to give juries to outsiders, who ought to be tried on the other side of the Euphrates? Well, give him eleven, and they can hear both cases.

That’s right; it will save a lot of expense.

First case: the Academy versus Drink. Let the jury take their seats. Mark the time, Hermes, Drink, open the case.... Not a word? can you do nothing but nod?— Hermes, go and see what is the matter with her.

She says she cannot plead, she would only be laughed at; wine has tied her tongues As you see, she can hardly stand.

Well, there are plenty of able counsel present, ready to shout themselves hoarse for sixpence; let her employ one of them.

No one will have anything to do with such a client in open court. But she makes a very reasonable proposal.

Yes?

The Academy is always ready to take both sides; she makes a point of contradicting herself plausibly. ‘Let her speak first on my behalf,’ says Drink, ‘and then on her own.’

A novel form of procedure. However, goon, Academy; speak on both sides, if you find it so easy.