Take back, take back your viands; for a thousand drachmae I
would not give a drop of peace. (A young woman enters) But who is she?
WEDDING GUEST
She is the
matron of honour; she wants to say something to you
from the bride privately.
DICAEOPOLIS
Come, what do you wish to say? (The MATRON OF HONOUR whispers in
his ear.) Ah! what a
ridiculous demand! The bride burns with longing
to keep her husband's tool at home. 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, hand me 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. (The MATRON OF HONOUR and the WEDDING GUEST depart.)
There, slave, take away my truce! Now, quick, bring me the
wine-flagon, that I may fill up the drinking bowls!
(The slave leaves. A HERALD enters.)
LEADER OF THE CHORUS (in
tragic style)
I see a man, "striding along apace, with knitted brows; he seems
to us the
bearer of terrible tidings."
HERALD (in
tragic style)
Oh! toils and battles and Lamachuses!
(He knocks on LAMACHUS' door.)
LAMACHUS (from within; in
tragic style)
What noise resounds around my
dwelling, where shines the glint
of arms.
(He comes out of his house.)
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
takingadvantage 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
heraldrunning up; what news does he bring
me?
(Another HERALD enters.)
HERALD
Dicaeopolis!
DICAEOPOLIS
What is the matter?
HERALD
Come quickly to the feast and bring your basket and your cup; it
is 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 whores to boot;
biscuits, cakes, sesamebread, tarts, lovely dancing women, and the
"Harmodius." But come with all speed.
LAMACHUS
Oh!
hostile gods!
DICAEOPOLIS
This is not astounding; you have chosen this great ugly Gorgon's
head for your
patron. (To a slave) 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 nice fat 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 (to DICAEOPOLIS)
My friend, stop scoffing at my armour.
DICAEOPOLIS (to LAMACHUS)
My friend, stop staring at my thrushes.
LAMACHUS (to his slave)
Bring me the case for my
triple plume.
DICAEOPOLIS (to his slave)
Pass me over that dish of hare.
LAMACHUS
Alas! the moths have eaten the hair of my crest.
DICAEOPOLIS
Shall I eat my hare before dinner?
LAMACHUS
My friend, will you kindly not speak to me?
DICAEOPOLIS
I'm not
speaking to you; I'm scolding my slave. (To the 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 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! 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 in any drinking bout.
LAMACHUS
Fasten the strappings to the buckler.
DICAEOPOLIS
Pack the dinner well into the basket.
LAMACHUS
Personally I shall carry the knapsack.
DICAEOPOLIS
Personally I shall carry the cloak.
LAMACHUS
Slave, take up the buckler and let's be off. It is snowing! God
help us! A
wintry business!
DICAEOPOLIS
Take up the basket, mine's a
festive business.
(They depart in opposite directions.)
LEADER OF THE 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 lie with a young beauty till he gets his tool
all sore.
CHORUS (singing)
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, mad with drink, who will crack him over the
head; that wishing to seize a stone, he, in the dark, may pick up a
fresh turd, hurl, miss him and hit Cratinus.
(The slave of LAMACHUS enters.)
SLAVE OF LAMACHUS (knocking on the door of LAMACHUS' house, in
tragic style)
Captives present within the house 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. But here he comes, himself. Get the door open.
(In this final scene all the lines are sung.)
LAMACHUS (limping in with the help of two soldiers and singing a
song of woe)
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, singing gaily)
Oh! my gods! what breasts! Swelling like quinces! 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