Philocleon
If our assembly is noisy, all say as they pass,
[625]
"Great gods! the tribunal is rolling out its thunder!" If I let loose the lightning, the richest, aye, the noblest are half dead with terror and crap for fright. You yourself are afraid of me, yea, by Demeter! you are afraid.
[630]
But may I die if you frighten me.