f(1) Probably the Sibyl of Delphi is meant.
TRYGAEUS Wise Homer has also said: "He who delights in the horrors of
civil war has neither country nor laws nor home." What noble words!
HIEROCLES Beware lest the kite turn your brain and rob...
TRYGAEUS Look out, slave! This oracle threatens our meat. Quick, pour
the libation, and give me some of the inwards.
HIEROCLES I too will help myself to a bit, if you like.
TRYGAEUS The libation! the libation!
HIEROCLES Pour out also for me and give me some of this meat.
TRYGAEUS No, the blessed gods won't allow it yet; let us drink; and as
for you, get you gone, for 'tis their will. Mighty Peace! stay ever in
our midst.
HIEROCLES Bring the tongue hither.
TRYGAEUS Relieve us of your own.
HIEROCLES The libation.
TRYGAEUS Here! and this into the bargain (STRIKES HIM).
HIEROCLES You will not give me any meat?
TRYGAEUS We cannot give you any until the wolf unites with the sheep.
HIEROCLES I will embrace your knees.
TRYGAEUS 'Tis lost labour, good fellow; you will never smooth the rough
spikes of the hedgehog.... Come, spectators, join us in our feast.
HIEROCLES And what am I to do?
TRYGAEUS You? go and eat the Sibyl.
HIEROCLES No, by the Earth! no, you shall not eat without me; if you do
not give, I take; 'tis common property.
TRYGAEUS (TO THE SERVANT) Strike, strike this Bacis, this humbugging
soothsayer.
HIEROCLES I take to witness...
TRYGAEUS And I also, that you are a glutton and an impostor. Hold him
tight and beat the impostor with a stick.
SERVANT You look to that; I will snatch the skin from him which he has
stolen from us.(1) Are you going to let go that skin, you priest from
hell! do you hear! Oh! what a fine crow has come from Oreus! Stretch
your wings quickly for Elymnium.(2)
f(1) The skin of the victim, that is to say.
f(2) A temple in Euboea, close to Oreus. The servant means,
"Return where you came from."
CHORUS Oh! joy, joy! no more helmet, no more cheese nor onions!(1) No, I
have no passion for battles; what I love, is to drink with good comrades
in the corner by the fire when good dry wood, cut in the height of the
summer, is crackling; it is to cook pease on the coals and beechnuts
among the embers, 'tis to kiss our pretty Thracian(2) while my wife is
at the bath. Nothing is more pleasing, when the rain is sprouting our
sowings, than to chat with some friend, saying, "Tell me, Comarchides,
what shall we do? I would willingly drink myself, while the heavens are
watering our fields. Come, wife, cook three measures of beans, adding
to them a little wheat, and give us some figs. Syra! call Manes off the
fields, 'tis impossible to prune the vine or to align the ridges, for
the ground is too wet to-day. Let someone bring me the thrush and those
two chaffinches; there were also some curds and four pieces of hare,
unless the cat stole them last evening, for I know not what the infernal
noise was that I heard in the house. Serve up three of the pieces for
me, slave, and give the fourth to my father. Go and ask Aeschinades for
some myrtle branches with berries on them, and then, for 'tis the same
road, you will invite Charinades to come and drink with me to the honour
of the gods who watch over our crops." When the grasshopper sings his
dulcet tune, I love to see the Lemnian vines beginning to ripen, for
'tis the earliest plant of all. I love likewise to watch the fig filling
out, and when it has reached maturity I eat with appreciation and
exclaim, "Oh! delightful season!" Then too I bruise some thyme and
infuse it in water. Indeed I grow a great deal fatter passing the summer
in this way than in watching a cursed captain with his three plumes
and his military cloak of a startling crimson (he calls it true Sardian
purple), which he takes care to dye himself with Cyzicus saffron in
a battle; then he is the first to run away, shaking his plumes like a
great yellow prancing cock,(3) while I am left to watch the nets.(4)
Once back again in Athens, these brave fellows behave abominably; they
write down these, they scratch through others, and this backwards
and forwards two or three times at random. The departure is set for
to-morrow, and some citizen has brought no provisions, because he didn't
know he had to go; he stops in front of the statue of Pandion,(5) reads
his name, is dumbfounded and starts away at a run, weeping bitter tears.
The townsfolk are less ill-used, but that is how the husbandmen are
treated by these men of war, the hated of the gods and of men, who
know nothing but how to throw away their shield. For this reason, if it
please heaven, I propose to call these rascals to account, for they are
lions in times of peace, but sneaking foxes when it comes to fighting.
f(1) This was the soldier's usual ration on duty.
f(2) Slaves often bore the name of the country of their
birth.
f(3) Because of the new colour which fear had lent his
chlamys.
f(4) Meaning, that he deserts his men in mid-campaign,
leaving them to look after the enemy.
f(5) Ancient King of Athens. This was one of the twelve
statues, on the pedestals of which the names of the soldiers
chose for departure on service were written. The decrees
were also placarded on them.
TRYGAEUS Oh! oh! what a crowd for the nuptial feast! Here! dust the
tables with this crest, which is good for nothing else now. Halloa!
produce the cakes, the thrushes, plenty of good jugged hare and the
little loaves.
A SICKLE-MAKER Trygaeus, where is Trygaeus?
TRYGAEUS I am cooking the thrushes.
SICKLE-MAKER Trygaeus, my best of friends, what a fine stroke of
business you have done for me by bringing back Peace! Formerly my
sickles would not have sold at an obolus apiece; to-day I am being paid
fifty drachmae for every one. And here is a neighbour who is selling his
casks for the country at three drachmae each. So come, Trygaeus, take as
many sickles and casks as you will for nothing. Accept them for nothing;
'tis because of our handsome profits on our sales that we offer you
these wedding presents.
TRYGAEUS Thanks. Put them all down inside there, and come along quick to
the banquet. Ah! do you see that armourer yonder coming with a wry face?
A CREST-MAKER Alas! alas! Trygaeus, you have ruined me utterly.
TRYGAEUS What! won't the crests go any more, friend?
CREST-MAKER You have killed my business, my livelihood, and that of this
poor lance-maker too.
TRYGAEUS Come, come, what are you asking for these two crests?
CREST-MAKER What do you bid for them?
TRYGAEUS What do I bid? Oh! I am ashamed to say. Still, as the clasp
is of good workmanship, I would give two, even three measures of dried
figs; I could use 'em for dusting the table.
CREST-MAKER All right, tell them to bring me the dried figs; 'tis always
better than nothing.
TRYGAEUS Take them away, be off with your crests and get you gone; they
are moulting, they are losing all their hair; I would not give a single
fig for them.
A BREASTPLATE-MAKER Good gods, what am I going to do with this fine
ten-minae breastplate, which is so splendidly made?
TRYGAEUS Oh, you will lose nothing over it.
BREASTPLATE-MAKER I will sell it to you at cost price.
TRYGAEUS 'Twould be very useful as a night-stool...
BREASTPLATE-MAKER Cease your insults, both to me and my wares.
TRYGAEUS ...if propped on three stones. Look, 'tis admirable.
BREASTPLATE-MAKER But how can you wipe, idiot?
TRYGAEUS I can pass one hand through here, and the other there, and
so...
BREASTPLATE-MAKER What! do you wipe with both hands?
TRYGAEUS Aye, so that I may not be accused of robbing the State, by
blocking up an oar-hole in the galley.(1)
f(1) The trierarchs stopped up some of the holes made for
the oars, in order to reduce the number of rowers they had
to supply for the galleys; they thus saved the wages of the
rowers they dispensed with.
BREASTPLATE-MAKER So you would pay ten minae(1) for a night-stool?
f(1) The mina was equivalent to about three pounds, ten
shillings.
TRYGAEUS Undoubtedly, you rascal. Do you think I would sell my rump for
a thousand drachmae?(1)
f(1) Which is the same thing, since a mina was worth a
hundred drachmae.
BREASTPLATE-MAKER Come, have the money paid over to me.
TRYGAEUS No, friend; I find it hurts me to sit on. Take it away, I won't
buy it.
A TRUMPET-MAKER What is to be done with this trumpet, for which I gave
sixty drachmae the other day?
TRYGAEUS Pour lead into the hollow and fit a good, long stick to the
top; and you will have a balanced cottabos.(1)
f(1) For 'cottabos' see note above.
TRUMPET-MAKER Ha! would you mock me?
TRYGAEUS Well, here's another notion. Pour in lead as I said, add here a
dish hung on strings, and you will have a balance for weighing the figs
which you give your slaves in the fields.
A HELMET-MAKER Cursed fate! I am ruined. Here are helmets, for which I
gave a mina each. What I to do with them? who will buy them?
TRYGAEUS Go and sell them to the Egyptians; they will do for measuring
loosening medicines.(1)
f(1) Syrmoea, a kind of purgative syrup much used by the
Egyptians, made of antiscorbutic herbs, such as mustard,
horse-radish, etc.
A SPEAR-MAKER Ah! poor helmet-maker, things are indeed in a bad way.
TRYGAEUS That man has no cause for complaint.
SPEAR-MAKER But helmets will be no more used.
TRYGAEUS Let him learn to fit a handle to them and he can sell them for
more money.(1)
f(1) As wine-pots or similar vessels.
SPEAR-MAKER Let us be off, comrade.
TRYGAEUS No, I want to buy these spears.
SPEAR-MAKER What will you give?
TRYGAEUS If they could be split in two, I would take them at a drachma
per hundred to use as vine-props.
SPEAR-MAKER The insolent dog! Let us go, friend.
TRYGAEUS Ah! here come the guests, children from the table to relieve
themselves; I fancy they also want to hum over what they will be singing
presently. Hi! child! what do you reckon to sing? Stand there and give
me the opening line.