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Peace   


blocking up an oar-hole in the galley.
ARMOURER
Would you crap in a thunder-mug that cost ten minae?
TRYGAEUS
Undoubtedly, you rascal. Do you think I would sell my arse for a
thousand drachmae?
ARMOURER
Come, have the money paid over to me.
TRYGAEUS
No, friend; I find it pinches my bottom. Take it away, I won't buy
it.
ARMOURER
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 cottabus.
ARMOURER
Don't mock me.
TRYGAEUS
Well, here's another idea. 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.
ARMOURER
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
laxatives.
ARMOURER
Ah! poor helmet-maker, things are indeed in a bad way.
TRYGAEUS
He has no cause for complaint.
ARMOURER
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.
ARMOURER
Let us be off, comrade.
TRYGAEUS
No, I want to buy these spears.
ARMOURER
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.
ARMOURER
The insolent dog! Let us go, friend.
(The munitions-makers all depart.)
TRYGAEUS (as some young boys enter)
Ah I here come the guests, young folks from the table to take a
pee; 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.
BOY
"Glory to the young warriors..."
TRYGAEUS
Oh! leave off about your young warriors, you little wretch; we are
at peace and you are an idiot and a rascal.
BOY
"The skirmish begins, the hollow bucklers clash against each
other."
TRYGAEUS

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