Part 18

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.