Agon and Kepos

AGON.
Kepos! what brings thee from the market-place?
KEPOS.
What drove me from it, rather ask.
AGON.
Well, what
KEPOS.
There was a scramble round about my stall.
And two unlucky boys were fighting hard
Which of them should sweep off the fruit; at last
They overturn'd the board: 'twas time to run.
AGON.
And were the people then indifferent?
KEPOS.
At first they were not; presently they laught
To see a split pomegranate's slippery fruit
Drop from the fingers of the foremost two,
With nothing left between them but hard rind
And deeply-dyed and ever-during stain.
AGON.
Children of Hellas! learn your lesson here,
Nor touch pomegranate in the market-place.