ocks, before setting them at each other,
to give them pluck for the fight.

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.(1)

f(1) At the lest unfavourable omen, the sitting of the Assembly was
declared at an end.

HERALD
Let the Thracians withdraw and return the day after tomorrow;
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(1) 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 started 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.

f(1) The deme of Acharnae was largely inhabited by charcoal-burners,
who supplied the city with fuel.

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,(1) this one is
five years old; take it and taste.

f(1) He presents them in the form of wines contained in three separate
skins.

DICAEOPOLIS
Faugh!

AMPHITHEUS
Well?

DICAEOPOLIS
It does not please me; it smells of pitch and of the ships they are
fitting out.(1)

f(1) Meaning, preparations for war.

AMPHITHEUS
Here is another, ten years old; taste it.

DICAEOPOLIS
It smells strongly of the delegates, who go around the towns
to chide the allies for their slowness.(1)

f(1) Meaning, securing allies for the continuance of the war.

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."(1)
I accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the
Acharnians to limbo.