Chapter II: Part 2

MEGARIAN That is my opinion too. But who would make so sorry a deal as to buy you? Ah! I recall me a Megarian trick; I am going to disguise you as little porkers, that I am offering for sale. Fit your hands with these hoofs and take care to appear the issue of a sow of good breed, for, if I am forced to take you back to the house, by Hermes! you will suffer cruelly of hunger! Then fix on these snouts and cram yourselves into this sack. Forget not to grunt and to say wee-wee like the little pigs that are sacrificed in the Mysteries. I must summon Dicaeopolis. Where is be? Dicaeopolis, do you want to buy some nice little porkers?

DICAEOPOLIS Who are you? a Megarian?

MEGARIAN I have come to your market.

DICAEOPOLIS Well, how are things at Megara?(1)

f(1) Megara was allied to Sparta and suffered during the war more than any other city because of its proximity to Athens.

MEGARIAN We are crying with hunger at our firesides.

DICAEOPOLIS The fireside is jolly enough with a piper. But what else is doing at Megara, eh?

MEGARIAN What else? When I left for the market, the authorities were taking steps to let us die in the quickest manner.

DICAEOPOLIS That is the best way to get you out of all your troubles.

MEGARIAN True.

DICAEOPOLIS What other news of Megara? What is wheat selling at?

MEGARIAN With us it is valued as highly as the very gods in heaven!

DICAEOPOLIS Is it salt that you are bringing?

MEGARIAN Are you not holding back the salt?

DICAEOPOLIS 'Tis garlic then?

MEGARIAN What! garlic! do you not at every raid grub up the ground with your pikes to pull out every single head?

DICAEOPOLIS What DO you bring then?

MEGARIAN Little sows, like those they immolate at the Mysteries.

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! very well, show me them.

MEGARIAN They are very fine; feel their weight. See! how fat and fine.

DICAEOPOLIS But what is this?

MEGARIAN A SOW, for a certainty.(1)

f(1) Throughout this whole scene there is an obscene play upon (a) word which means in Greek both 'sow' and 'a woman's organs of generation.'

DICAEOPOLIS You say a sow! Of what country, then?

MEGARIAN
From Megara. What! is it not a sow then?

DICAEOPOLIS No, I don't believe it is.

MEGARIAN This is too much! what an incredulous man! He says 'tis not a sow; but we will stake, an you will, a measure of salt ground up with thyme, that in good Greek this is called a sow and nothing else.

DICAEOPOLIS But a sow of the human kind.

MEGARIAN Without question, by Diocles! of my own breed! Well! What think you? will you hear them squeal?

DICAEOPOLIS Well, yes, I' faith, I will.

MEGARIAN Cry quickly, wee sowlet; squeak up, hussy, or by Hermes! I take you back to the house.

GIRL Wee-wee, wee-wee!

MEGARIAN Is that a little sow, or not?

DICAEOPOLIS Yes, it seems so; but let it grow up, and it will be a fine fat bitch.

MEGARIAN In five years it will be just like its mother.

DICAEOPOLIS But it cannot be sacrificed.

MEGARIAN And why not?

DICAEOPOLIS It has no tail.(1)

f(1) Sacrificial victims were bound to be perfect in every part; an animal, therefore, without a tail could not be offered.

MEGARIAN Because it is quite young, but in good time it will have a big one, thick and red.

DICAEOPOLIS The two are as like as two peas.

MEGARIAN They are born of the same father and mother; let them be fattened, let them grow their bristles, and they will be the finest sows you can offer to Aphrodite.

DICAEOPOLIS But sows are not immolated to Aphrodite.

MEGARIAN Not sows to Aphrodite! Why, 'tis the only goddess to whom they are offered! the flesh of my sows will be excellent on the spit.

DICAEOPOLIS Can they eat alone? They no longer need their mother!

MEGARIAN Certainly not, nor their father.

DICAEOPOLIS What do they like most?

MEGARIAN Whatever is given them; but ask for yourself.

DICAEOPOLIS Speak! little sow.

DAUGHTER Wee-wee, wee-wee!

DICAEOPOLIS Can you eat chick-pease?

DAUGHTER Wee-wee, wee-wee, wee-wee!

DICAEOPOLIS And Attic figs?

DAUGHTER Wee-wee, wee-wee!

DICAEOPOLIS What sharp squeaks at the name of figs. Come, let some figs be brought for these little pigs. Will they eat them? Goodness! how they munch them, what a grinding of teeth, mighty Heracles! I believe those pigs hail from the land of the Voracians. But surely 'tis impossible they have bolted all the figs!

MEGARIAN Yes, certainly, bar this one that I took from them.

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! what funny creatures! For what sum will you sell them?

MEGARIAN I will give you one for a bunch of garlic, and the other, if you like, for a quart measure of salt.

DICAEOPOLIS I buy them of you. Wait for me here.

MEGARIAN The deal is done. Hermes, god of good traders, grant I may sell both my wife and my mother in the same way!

AN INFORMER Hi! fellow, what countryman are you?

MEGARIAN I am a pig-merchant from Megara.

INFORMER I shall denounce both your pigs and yourself as public enemies.

MEGARIAN Ah! here our troubles begin afresh!

INFORMER Let go that sack. I will punish your Megarian lingo!(1)

f(1) The Megarians used the Doric dialect.

MEGARIAN Dicaeopolis, Dicaeopolis, they want to denounce me.

DICAEOPOLIS Who dares do this thing? Inspectors, drive out the informers. Ah! you offer to enlighten us without a lamp!(1)

f(1) A play upon (a) word which both means 'to light' and 'to denounce.'

INFORMER What! I may not denounce our enemies?

DICAEOPOLIS Have a care for yourself, if you don't go off pretty quick to denounce elsewhere.

MEGARIAN What a plague to Athens!

DICAEOPOLIS Be reassured, Megarian. Here is the price for your two swine, the garlic and the salt. Farewell and much happiness!

MEGARIAN Ah! we never have that amongst us.

DICAEOPOLIS Well! may the inopportune wish apply to myself.

MEGARIAN Farewell, dear little sows, and seek, far from your father, to munch your bread with salt, if they give you any.

CHORUS Here is a man truly happy. See how everything succeeds to his wish. Peacefully seated in his market, he will earn his living; woe to Ctesias,(1) and all other informers who dare to enter there! You will not be cheated as to the value of wares, you will not again see Prepis(2) wiping his foul rump, nor will Cleonymus(3) jostle you; you will take your walks, clothed in a fine tunic, without meeting Hyperbolus(4) and his unceasing quibblings, without being accosted on the public place by any importunate fellow, neither by Cratinus,(5) shaven in the fashion of the debauchees, nor by this musician, who plagues us with his silly improvisations, Artemo, with his arm-pits stinking as foul as a goat, like his father before him. You will not be the butt of the villainous Pauson's(6) jeers, nor of Lysistratus,(7) the disgrace of the Cholargian deme, who is the incarnation of all the vices, and endures cold and hunger more than thirty days in the month.

f(1) An informer (sycophant), otherwise unknown.

f(2) A debauchee of vile habits; a pathic.

f(3) Mentioned above; he was as proud as he was cowardly.

f(4) An Athenian general, quarrelsome and litigious, and an Informer into the bargain.

f(5) A comic poet of vile habits.

f(6) A painter.

f(7) A debauchee, a gambler, and always in extreme poverty.

A BOEOTIAN By Heracles! my shoulder is quite black and blue. Ismenias, put the penny-royal down there very gently, and all of you, musicians from Thebes, pipe with your bone flutes into a dog's rump.(1)

f(1) This kind of flute had a bellows, made of dog-skin, much like the bagpipes of to-day.

DICAEOPOLIS Enough, enough, get you gone. Rascally hornets, away with you! Whence has sprung this accursed swarm of Charis(1) fellows which comes assailing my door?

f(1) A flute-player, mentioned above.

BOEOTIAN Ah! by Iolas!(1) Drive them off, my dear host, you will please me immensely; all the way from Thebes, they were there piping behind me and have completely stripped my penny-royal of its blossom. But will you buy anything of me, some chickens or some locusts?

f(1) A hero, much honoured in Thebes; nephew of Heracles.

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! good day, Boeotian, eater of good round loaves.(1) What do you bring?

f(1) A form of bread peculiar to Boeotia.

BOEOTIAN All that is good in Boeotia, marjoram, penny-royal, rush-mats, lamp-wicks, ducks, jays, woodcocks, water-fowl, wrens, divers.

DICAEOPOLIS 'Tis a very hail of birds that beats down on my market.

BOEOTIAN I also bring geese, hares, foxes, moles, hedgehogs, cats, lyres, martins, otters and eels from the Copaic lake.(1)

f(1) A lake in Boeotia.

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! my friend, you, who bring me the most delicious of fish, let me salute your eels.

BOEOTIAN Come, thou, the eldest of my fifty Copaic virgins, come and complete the joy of our host.

DICAEOPOLIS Oh! my well-beloved, thou object of my long regrets, thou art here at last then, thou, after whom the comic poets sigh, thou, who art dear to Morychus.(1) Slaves, hither with the stove and the bellows. Look at this charming eel, that returns to us after six long years of absence.(2) Salute it, my children; as for myself, I will supply coal to do honour to the stranger. Take it into my house; death itself could not separate me from her, if cooked with beet leaves.

f(1) He was the Lucullus of Athens.

f(2) This again fixes the date of the presentation of 'The Acharnians' to 436 B.C., the sixth year of the War, since the beginning of which Boeotia had been closed to the Athenians.

BOEOTIAN And what will you give me in return?

DICAEOPOLIS It will pay for your market dues. And as to the rest, what do you wish to sell me?

BOEOTIAN Why, everything.

DICAEOPOLIS On what terms? For ready-money or in wares from these parts?

BOEOTIAN I would take some Athenian produce, that we have not got in Boeotia.

DICAEOPOLIS Phaleric anchovies, pottery?

BOEOTIAN Anchovies, pottery? But these we have. I want produce that is wanting with us and that is plentiful here.

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! I have the very thing; take away an Informer, packed up carefully as crockery-ware.

BOEOTIAN By the twin gods! I should earn big money, if I took one; I would exhibit him as an ape full of spite.

DICAEOPOLIS Hah! here we have Nicarchus,(1) who comes to denounce you.

f(1) An informer.

BOEOTIAN How small he is!

DICAEOPOLIS But in his case the whole is one mass of ill-nature.

NICARCHUS Whose are these goods?

DICAEOPOLIS Mine; they come from Boeotia, I call Zeus to witness.

NICARCHUS I denounce them as coming from an enemy's country.

BOEOTIAN What! you declare war against birds?

NICARCHUS And I am going to denounce you too.

BOEOTIAN What harm have I done you?

NICARCHUS I will say it for the benefit of those that listen; you introduce lamp-wicks from an enemy's country.

DICAEOPOLIS Then you go as far as denouncing a wick.

NICARCHUS It needs but one to set an arsenal afire.

DICAEOPOLIS A wick set an arsenal ablaze! But how, great gods?

NICARCHUS Should a Boeotian attach it to an insect's wing, and, taking advantage of a violent north wind, throw it by means of a tube into the arsenal and the fire once get hold of the vessels, everything would soon be devoured by the flames.

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! wretch! an insect and a wick devour everything! (HE STRIKES HIM.)

NICARCHUS (TO THE CHORUS) You will bear witness, that he mishandles me.

DICAEOPOLIS Shut his mouth. Give me some hay; I am going to pack him up like a vase, that he may not get broken on the road.

CHORUS Pack up your goods carefully, friend; that the stranger may not break it when taking it away.

DICAEOPOLIS I shall take great care with it, for one would say he is cracked already; he rings with a false note, which the gods abhor.

CHORUS But what will be done with him?

DICAEOPOLIS This is a vase good for all purposes; it will be used as a vessel for holding all foul things, a mortar for pounding together law-suits, a lamp for spying upon accounts, and as a cup for the mixing up and poisoning of everything.

CHORUS None could ever trust a vessel for domestic use that has such a ring about it.

DICAEOPOLIS Oh! it is strong, my friend, and will never get broken, if care is taken to hang it head downwards.

CHORUS There! it is well packed now!

BOEOTIAN Marry, I will proceed to carry off my bundle.

CHORUS Farewell, worthiest of strangers, take this informer, good for anything, and fling him where you like.

DICAEOPOLIS Bah! this rogue has given me enough trouble to pack! Here! Boeotian, pick up your pottery.

BOEOTIAN Stoop, Ismenias, that I may put it on your shoulder, and be very careful with it.

DICAEOPOLIS You carry nothing worth having; however, take it, for you will profit by your bargain; the Informers will bring you luck.

A SERVANT OF LAMACHUS Dicaeopolis!

DICAEOPOLIS What do you want crying this gait?

SERVANT Lamachus wants to keep the Feast of Cups,(1) and I come by his order to bid you one drachma for some thrushes and three more for a Copaic eel.

f(1) The second day of the Dionysia or feasts of Bacchus, kept in the month Anthesterion (February), and called the Anthesteria. They lasted three days; the second being the Feast of Cups, the third the Feast of Pans. Vases, filled with grain of all kinds, were borne in procession and dedicated to Hermes.

DICAEOPOLIS And who is this Lamachus, who demands an eel?

SERVANT 'Tis the terrible, indefatigable Lamachus, who is always brandishing his fearful Gorgon's head and the three plumes which o'ershadow his helmet.

DICAEOPOLIS No, no, he will get nothing, even though he gave me his buckler. Let him eat salt fish, while he shakes his plumes, and, if he comes here making any din, I shall call the inspectors. As for myself, I shall take away all these goods; I go home on thrushes' wings and black-birds' pinions.(1)

f(1) A parody on some verses from a lost poet.

CHORUS You see, citizens, you see the good fortune which this man owes to his prudence, to his profound wisdom. You see how, since he has concluded peace, he buys what is useful in the household and good to eat hot. All good things flow towards him unsought. Never will I welcome the god of war in my house; never shall he chant the "Harmodius" at my table;(1) he is a sot, who comes feasting with those who are overflowing with good things and brings all manner of mischief at his heels. He overthrows, ruins, rips open; 'tis vain to make him a thousand offers, "be seated, pray, drink this cup, proffered in all friendship," he burns our vine-stocks and brutally pours out the wine from our vineyards on the ground. This man, on the other hand, covers his table with a thousand dishes; proud of his good fortunes, he has had these feathers cast before his door to show us how he lives.

f(1) A feasting song in honour of Harmodius, the assassin of Hipparchus the Tyrant, son of Pisistratus.

DICAEOPOLIS Oh, Peace! companion of fair Aphrodite and of the sweet Graces, how charming are thy features and yet I never knew it! Would that Eros might join me to thee, Eros, crowned with roses as Zeuxis(1) shows him to us! Perhaps I seem somewhat old to you, but I am yet able to make you a threefold offering; despite my age I could plant a long row of vines for you; then beside these some tender cuttings from the fig; finally a young vine-stock, loaded with fruit and all around the field olive trees, which would furnish us with oil, wherewith to anoint us both at the New Moons.

f(1) The celebrated painter, born in Heraclea, a contemporary of Aristophanes.

HERALD List, ye people! As was the custom of your forebears, empty a full pitcher of wine at the call of the trumpet; he, who first sees the bottom, shall get a wine-skin as round and plump as Ctesiphon's belly.

DICAEOPOLIS Women, children, have you not heard? Faith! do you not heed the herald? Quick! let the hares boil and roast merrily; keep them a-turning; withdraw them from the flame; prepare the chaplets; reach me the skewers that I may spit the thrushes.

CHORUS I envy you your wisdom and even more your good cheer.

DICAEOPOLIS What then will you say when you see the thrushes roasting?

CHORUS Ah! true indeed!

DICAEOPOLIS Slave! stir up the fire.

CHORUS See, how he knows his business, what a perfect cook! How well he understands the way to prepare a good dinner!

A HUSBANDMAN Ah! woe is me!

DICAEOPOLIS Heracles! What have we here?

HUSBANDMAN A most miserable man.

DICAEOPOLIS Keep your misery for yourself.

HUSBANDMAN Ah! friend! since you alone are enjoying peace, grant me a part of your truce, were it but five years.

DICAEOPOLIS What has happened to you?

HUSBANDMAN I am ruined; I have lost a pair of steers.

DICAEOPOLIS How?

HUSBANDMAN The Boeotians seized them at Phyle.(1)

f(1) A deme and frontier fortress of Attica, near the Boeotian border.

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! poor wretch! and yet you have not left off white?

HUSBANDMAN Their dung made my wealth.

DICAEOPOLIS What can I do in the matter?

HUSBANDMAN Crying for my beasts has lost me my eyesight. Ah! if you care for poor Dercetes of Phyle, anoint mine eyes quickly with your balm of peace.

DICAEOPOLIS But, my poor fellow, I do not practise medicine.

HUSBANDMAN Come, I adjure you; perhaps I shall recover my steers.

DICAEOPOLIS 'Tis impossible; away, go and whine to the disciples of Pittalus.(1)

f(1) An Athenian physician of the day.

HUSBANDMAN Grant me but one drop of peace; pour it into this reedlet.

DICAEOPOLIS No, not a particle; go a-weeping elsewhere.

HUSBANDMAN Oh! oh! oh! my poor beasts!

CHORUS This man has discovered the sweetest enjoyment in peace; he will share it with none.

DICAEOPOLIS Pour honey over this tripe; set it before the fire to dry.

CHORUS What lofty tones he uses! Did you hear him?

DICAEOPOLIS Get the eels on the gridiron!

CHORUS You are killing me with hunger; your smoke is choking your neighbours, and you split our ears with your bawling.

DICAEOPOLIS Have this fried and let it be nicely browned.

A BRIDESMAID Dicaeopolis! Dicaeopolis!

DICAEOPOLIS Who are you?

BRIDESMAID A young bridegroom sends you these viands from the marriage feast.

DICAEOPOLIS Whoever he be, I thank him.

BRIDESMAID And in return, he prays you to pour a glass of peace into this vase, that he may not have to go to the front and may stay at home to do his duty to his young wife.

DICAEOPOLIS Take back, take back your viands; for a thousand drachmae I would not give a drop of peace; but who are you, pray?

BRIDESMAID I am the bridesmaid; she wants to say something to you from the bride privately.

DICAEOPOLIS Come, what do you wish to say? (THE BRIDESMAID WHISPERS IN HIS EAR.) Ah! what a ridiculous demand! The bride burns with longing to keep by her her husband's weapon. Come! \bring hither my truce; to her alone will I give some of it, for she is a woman, and, as such, should not suffer under the war. Here, friend, reach hither your vial. And as to the manner of applying this balm, tell the bride, when a levy of soldiers is made to rub some in bed on her husband, where most needed. There, slave, take away my truce! Now, quick, bring me the wine-flagon, that I may fill up the drinking bowls!

CHORUS I see a man, striding along apace, with knitted brows; he seems to us the bearer of terrible tidings.

HERALD Oh! toils and battles, 'tis Lamachus!

LAMACHUS What noise resounds around my dwelling, where shines the glint of arms.

HERALD The Generals order you forthwith to take your battalions and your plumes, and, despite the snow, to go and guard our borders. They have learnt that a band of Boeotians intend taking advantage of the Feast of Cups to invade our country.

LAMACHUS Ah! the Generals! they are numerous, but not good for much! It's cruel, not to be able to enjoy the feast!

DICAEOPOLIS Oh! warlike host of Lamachus!

LAMACHUS Wretch! do you dare to jeer me?

DICAEOPOLIS Do you want to fight this four-winged Geryon?

LAMACHUS Oh! oh! what fearful tidings!

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! ah! I see another herald running up; what news does he bring me?

HERALD Dicaeopolis!

DICAEOPOLIS What is the matter?

HERALD Come quickly to the feast and bring your basket and your cup; 'tis the priest of Bacchus who invites you. But hasten, the guests have been waiting for you a long while. All is ready--couches, tables, cushions, chaplets, perfumes, dainties and courtesans to boot; biscuits, cakes, sesame-bread, tarts, lovely dancing women, the sweetest charm of the festivity. But come with all haste.

LAMACHUS Oh! hostile gods!

DICAEOPOLIS This is not astounding; you have chosen this huge, great ugly Gorgon's head for your patron. You, shut the door, and let someone get ready the meal.

LAMACHUS Slave! slave! my knapsack!

DICAEOPOLIS Slave! slave! a basket!

LAMACHUS Take salt and thyme, slave, and don't forget the onions.

DICAEOPOLIS Get some fish for me; I cannot bear onions.

LAMACHUS Slave, wrap me up a little stale salt meat in a fig-leaf.

DICAEOPOLIS And for me some good greasy tripe in a fig-leaf; I will have it cooked here.

LAMACHUS Bring me the plumes for my helmet.

DICAEOPOLIS Bring me wild pigeons and thrushes.

LAMACHUS How white and beautiful are these ostrich feathers!

DICAEOPOLIS How fat and well browned is the flesh of this wood-pigeon!

LAMACHUS Bring me the case for my triple plume.

DICAEOPOLIS

Pass me over that dish of hare.

LAMACHUS OH! the moths have eaten the hair of my crest.

DICAEOPOLIS I shall always eat hare before dinner.

LAMACHUS Hi! friend! try not to scoff at my armor?

DICAEOPOLIS Hi! friend! will you kindly not stare at my thrushes.

LAMACHUS Hi! friend! will you kindly not address me.

DICAEOPOLIS I do not address you; I am scolding my slave. Shall we wager and submit the matter to Lamachus, which of the two is the best to eat, a locust or a thrush?

LAMACHUS Insolent hound!

DICAEOPOLIS He much prefers the locusts.

LAMACHUS Slave, unhook my spear and bring it to me.

DICAEOPOLIS Slave, slave, take the sausage from the fire and bring it to me.

LAMACHUS Come, let me draw my spear from its sheath. Hold it, slave, hold it tight.

DICAEOPOLIS And you, slave, grip, grip well hold of the skewer.

LAMACHUS Slave, the bracings for my shield.

DICAEOPOLIS Pull the loaves out of the oven and bring me these bracings of my stomach.

LAMACHUS My round buckler with the Gorgon's head.

DICAEOPOLIS My round cheese-cake.

LAMACHUS What clumsy wit!

DICAEOPOLIS What delicious cheese-cake!

LAMACHUS Pour oil on the buckler. Hah! hah! I can see reflected there an old man who will be accused of cowardice.

DICAEOPOLIS Pour honey on the cake. Hah! hah! I can see an old man who makes Lamachus of the Gorgon's head weep with rage.

LAMACHUS Slave, full war armour.

DICAEOPOLIS Slave, my beaker; that is MY armour.

LAMACHUS With this I hold my ground with any foe.

DICAEOPOLIS And I with this with any tosspot.

LAMACHUS Fasten the strappings to the buckler; personally I shall carry the knapsack

DICAEOPOLIS Pack the dinner well into the basket; personally I shall carry the cloak.

LAMACHUS Slave, take up the buckler and let's be off. It is snowing! Ah! 'tis a question of facing the winter.

DICAEOPOLIS Take up the basket, 'tis a question of getting to the feast.

CHORUS We wish you both joy on your journeys, which differ so much. One goes to mount guard and freeze, while the other will drink, crowned with flowers, and then sleep with a young beauty, who will excite him readily.

I say it freely; may Zeus confound Antimachus, the poet-historian, the son of Psacas! When Choregus at the Lenaea, alas! alas! he dismissed me dinnerless. May I see him devouring with his eyes a cuttle-fish, just served, well cooked, hot and properly salted; and the moment that he stretches his hand to help himself, may a dog seize it and run off with it. Such is my first wish. I also hope for him a misfortune at night. That returning all-fevered from horse practice, he may meet an Orestes,(1) mad with drink, who breaks open his head; that wishing to seize a stone, he, in the dark, may pick up a fresh stool, hurl his missile, miss aim and hit Cratinus.(2)

f(1) An allusion to the paroxysms of rage, as represented in many tragedies familiar to an Athenian audience, of Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, after he had killed his mother.

f(2) No doubt the comic poet, rival of Aristophanes.

SLAVE OF LAMACHUS Slaves of Lamachus! Water, water in a little pot! Make it warm, get ready cloths, cerate greasy wool and bandages for his ankle. In leaping a ditch, the master has hurt himself against a stake; he has dislocated and twisted his ankle, broken his head by falling on a stone, while his Gorgon shot far away from his buckler. His mighty braggadocio plume rolled on the ground; at this sight he uttered these doleful words, "Radiant star, I gaze on thee for the last time; my eyes close to all light, I die." Having said this, he falls into the water, gets out again, meets some runaways and pursues the robbers with his spear at their backsides.(1) But here he comes, himself. Get the door open.

f(1) Unexpected wind-up of the story. Aristophanes intends to deride the boasting of Lamachus, who was always ascribing to himself most unlikely exploits.

LAMACHUS Oh! heavens! oh! heavens! What cruel pain! I faint, I tremble! Alas! I die! the foe's lance has struck me! But what would hurt me most would be for Dicaeopolis to see me wounded thus and laugh at my ill-fortune.

DICAEOPOLIS (ENTERS WITH TWO COURTESANS) Oh! my gods! what bosoms! Hard as a quince! Come, my treasures, give me voluptuous kisses! Glue your lips to mine. Haha! I was the first to empty my cup.

LAMACHUS Oh! cruel fate! how I suffer! accursed wounds!

DICAEOPOLIS Hah! hah! hail! Knight Lamachus! (EMBRACES LAMACHUS.)

LAMACHUS By the hostile gods! (BITES DICAEOPOLIS.)

DICAEOPOLIS Ah! Great gods!

LAMACHUS Why do you embrace me?

DICAEOPOLIS And why do you bite me?

LAMACHUS 'Twas a cruel score I was paying back!

DICAEOPOLIS Scores are not evened at the Feast of Cups!

LAMACHUS Oh! Paean, Paean!

DICAEOPOLIS But to-day is not the feast of Paean.

LAMACHUS Oh! support my leg, do; ah! hold it tenderly, my friends!

DICAEOPOLIS And you, my darlings, take hold of this, both of you!

LAMACHUS This blow with the stone makes me dizzy; my sight grows dim.

DICAEOPOLIS For myself, I want to get to bed; I am bursting with lustfulness, I want to be bundling in the dark.

LAMACHUS Carry me to the surgeon Pittalus.

DICAEOPOLIS Take me to the judges. Where is the king of the feast? The wine-skin is mine!

LAMACHUS That spear has pierced my bones; what torture I endure!

DICAEOPOLIS You see this empty cup! I triumph! I triumph!

CHORUS Old man, I come at your bidding! You triumph! you triumph!

DICAEOPOLIS Again I have brimmed my cup with unmixed wine and drained it at a draught!

CHORUS You triumph then, brave champion; thine is the wine-skin!

DICAEOPOLIS Follow me, singing "Triumph! Triumph!"

CHORUS Aye! we will sing of thee, thee and thy sacred wine-skin, and we all, as we follow thee, will repeat in thine honour, "Triumph, Triumph!"