DIO. Aye, save _my shoulder's aching._

XAN. Come now, that comical joke?

DIO. With all my heart. Only be careful not to shift your pole,
And--

XAN. What?

DIO. And vow that you've a bellyache.

XAN. May I not say I'm overburdened so
That if none ease me, I must ease myself?

DIO. For mercy's sake, not till I'm going to vomit.

XAN. What! must I bear these burdens, and not make
One of the jokes Ameipsias and Lycis
And Phrynichus, in every play they write,
Put in the mouths of all their burden-bearers?

DIO. Don't make them; no! I tell you when I see
Their plays, and hear those jokes, I come away
More than a twelvemonth older than I went.

XAN. O thrice unlucky neck of mine, which now
Is _getting crushed_, yet must not crack its joke!

DIO. Now is not this fine pampered insolence