(He comes out of his house.)
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.
Ah! the Generals! they are numerous, but not good for much! It's
cruel, not to be able to enjoy the feast!
Oh! warlike host of Lamachus!
Wretch! do you dare to jeer me?
Do you want to fight this four-winged Geryon?
Oh! oh! what fearful tidings!
Ah! ah! I see another herald running up; what news does he bring
(Another HERALD enters.)
What is the matter?
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.
Oh! hostile gods!
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.
Slave! slave! my knapsack!
Slave! slave! a basket!
Take salt and thyme, slave, and don't forget the onions.
Get some fish for me; I cannot bear onions.
Slave, wrap me up a little stale salt meat in a fig-leaf.
And for me some nice fat tripe in a fig-leaf; I will have it
Bring me the plumes for my helmet.
Bring me wild pigeons and thrushes.
How white and beautiful are these ostrich feathers!
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.