DICAEOPOLIS. Of the Odomanti? Tell me what it means. Who has mutilated
their tools like this?
THEORUS. If they are given a wage of two drachmae, they will put all
Boeotia[176] to fire and sword.
DICAEOPOLIS. Two drachmae to those circumcised hounds! Groan aloud, ye
people of rowers, bulwark of Athens! Ah! great gods! I am undone; these
Odomanti are robbing me of my garlic![177] Will you give me back my
garlic?
THEORUS. Oh! wretched man! do not go near them; they have eaten
garlic.[178]
DICAEOPOLIS. Prytanes, will you let me be treated in this manner, in my
own country and by barbarians? But I oppose the discussion of paying a
wage to the Thracians; I announce an omen; I have just felt a drop of
rain.[179]
HERALD. Let the Thracians withdraw and return the day after to-morrow;
the Prytanes declare the sitting at an end.
DICAEOPOLIS. Ye gods, what garlic I have lost! But here comes Amphitheus
returned from Lacedaemon. Welcome, Amphitheus.
AMPHITHEUS. No, there is no welcome for me and I fly as fast as I can,
for I am pursued by the Acharnians.
DICAEOPOLIS. Why, what has happened?
AMPHITHEUS. I was hurrying to bring your treaty of truce, but some old
dotards from Acharnae[180] got scent of the thing; they are veterans of
Marathon, tough as oak or maple, of which they are made for sure--rough
and ruthless. They all set to a-crying, "Wretch! you are the bearer of a
treaty, and the enemy has only just cut our vines!" Meanwhile they were
gathering stones in their cloaks, so I fled and they ran after me
shouting.
DICAEOPOLIS. Let 'em shout as much as they please! But have you brought
me a treaty?
AMPHITHEUS. Most certainly, here are three samples to select from,[181]
this one is five years old; take it and taste.
DICAEOPOLIS. Faugh!
AMPHITHEUS. Well?
DICAEOPOLIS. It does not please me; it smells of pitch and of the ships
they are fitting out.[182]
AMPHITHEUS. Here is another, ten years old; taste it.
DICAEOPOLIS. It smells strongly of the delegates, who go round the towns
to chide the allies for their slowness.[183]
AMPHITHEUS. This last is a truce of thirty years, both on sea and land.
DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! by Bacchus! what a bouquet! It has the aroma of nectar
and ambrosia; this does not say to us, "Provision yourselves for three
days." But it lisps the gentle numbers, "Go whither you will."[184] I
accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the Acharnians
to limbo. Freed from the war and its ills, I shall keep the Dionysia[185]
in the country.
AMPHITHEUS. And I shall run away, for I'm mortally afraid of the
Acharnians.
CHORUS. This way all! Let us follow our man; we will demand him of
everyone we meet; the public weal makes his seizure imperative. Ho,
there! tell me which way the bearer of the truce has gone; he has escaped
us, he has disappeared. Curse old age! When I was young, in the days when
I followed Phayllus,[186] running with a sack of coals on my back, this
wretch would not have eluded my pursuit, let him be as swift as he will;
but now my limbs are stiff; old Lacratides[187] feels his legs are
weighty and the traitor escapes me. No, no, let us follow him; old
Acharnians like ourselves shall not be set at naught by a scoundrel, who
has dared, great gods! to conclude a truce, when I wanted the war
continued with double fury in order to avenge my ruined lands. No mercy
for our foes until I have pierced their hearts like a sharp reed, so that
they dare never again ravage my vineyards. Come, let us seek the rascal;
let us look everywhere, carrying our stones in our hands; let us hunt him
from place to place until we trap him; I could never, never tire of the
delight of stoning him.