at, 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, 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! 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 with any tosspot.

LAMACHUS
Fasten the strappings to the buckler; personally I shall carry the knapsack

DICAEOPOLIS
Pack the dinner well into the basket; personally I shall carry the cloak.

LAMACHUS
Slave, take up the buckler and let's be off. It is snowing! Ah!
'tis a question of facing the winter.

DICAEOPOLIS
Take up the basket, 'tis a question of getting to the feast.

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 sleep with a young beauty, who will excite
him readily.

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,(1) mad with drink, who breaks open his head;
that wishing to seize a stone, he, in the dark, may pick up a fresh stool,
hurl his missile, miss aim and hit Cratinus.(2)

f(1)