Sing.
SPEUSIPPUS.

Well, then, I will sing you a chorus, which, I think, is a tolerable imitation of Euripides.
CHARICLEA.

Of Euripides ?--Not a word.
ALCIBIADES.

Why so, sweet Chariclea?
CHARICLEA.

Would you have me betray my sex?
Would you have me forget his Phaedras and Sthenoboeas?
No if I ever suffer any lines of that woman-hater, or his imitators, to be sung in my presence, may I sell herbs (The mother of Euripides was a herb-woman.