Aristophanes, The Acharnians 1069–1142: Episode: Lamachus and Dicaeopolis prepare for the feast

CHORUS But here runs one with eyebrows puckered up. Methinks he comes a messenger of woe.

CRIER O toils, and fights, and fighting Lamachuses!

LAMACHUS Who clangs around my bronze-accoutred halls?

CRIER The generals bid you take your crests and cohorts, And hurry off this instant; to keep watch Amongst the mountain passes in the snow. For news has come that at this Pitcher-feast Boeotian bandits mean to raid our lands.

LAMACHUS O generals, great in numbers, small in worth! Shame that I may not even enjoy the feast.

DICAEOPOLIS O expedition battle-Lamachaean!

LAMACHUS O dear, what you! Do you insult me too?

DICAEOPOLIS What would you fight with Geryon, the four-winged?

LAMACHUS O woe! O what a message has this Crier brought me!

DICAEOPOLIS Oho! what message will this runner bring me?

The couches, tables, sofa-cushions, rugs, Wreaths, sweetmeats, myrrh, the harlotry are there, Whole-meal cakes, cheese-cakes, sesame-, honey-cakes, And dancing-girls, Harmodius’ dearest ones. So pray make haste. O wretched, wretched me!

DICAEOPOLIS Aye the great Gorgon ’twas you chose for patron. Now close the house, and pack the supper up.

LAMACHUS Boy, bring me out my soldier’s knapsack here.

DICAEOPOLIS Boy, bring me out my supper-basket here.

LAMACHUS Boy, bring me onions, with some thymy salt.

DICAEOPOLIS For me, fish-fillets: onions I detest.

LAMACHUS Boy, bring me here a leaf of rotten fish.

DICAEOPOLIS A tit-bit leaf for me; I’ll toast it there.

LAMACHUS Now bring me here my helmet’s double plume.

DICAEOPOLIS And bring me here my thrushes and ringdoves.

LAMACHUS How nice and white this ostrich-plume to view.

DICAEOPOLIS How nice and brown this pigeon’s flesh to eat.

LAMACHUS Man, don’t keep jeering at my armour so.

DICAEOPOLIS Man, don’t keep peering at my thrushes so.

LAMACHUS Bring me the casket with the three crests in it.

DICAEOPOLIS Bring me the basket with the hare’s flesh in it.

LAMACHUS Surely the moths my crest have eaten up.

DICAEOPOLIS Sure this hare-soup I’ll eat before I sup.

LAMACHUS Fellow, I’ll thank you not to talk to me.

DICAEOPOLIS Nay, but the boy and I, we can’t agree. Come will you bet, and Lamachus decide,

DICAEOPOLIS Locusts or thrushes, which the daintier are?

LAMACHUS Insolent knave! (To the boy) Locusts, he says, by far.

LAMACHUS Boy, boy, take down the spear, and bring it here.

DICAEOPOLIS Boy, take the sweetbread off and bring it here.

LAMACHUS Hold firmly to the spear whilst I pull off The case.

DICAEOPOLIS And you, hold firmly to the spit.

LAMACHUS Boy, bring the framework to support my shield.

DICAEOPOLIS Boy, bring the bakemeats to support my frame.

LAMACHUS Bring here the grim-backed circle of the shield.

DICAEOPOLIS And here the cheese-backed circle of the cake.

LAMACHUS Is not this—mockery, plain for men to see?

DICAEOPOLIS Is not this—cheese-cake, sweet for men to eat?

LAMACHUS Pour on the oil, boy. Gazing on my shield, I see an old man tried for cowardliness.

DICAEOPOLIS Pour on the honey. Gazing on my cake, I see an old man mocking Lamachus.

LAMACHUS Bring me a casque, to arm the outer man.

DICAEOPOLIS Bring me a cask to warm the inner man.

LAMACHUS With this I’ll arm myself against the foe.

DICAEOPOLIS With this I’ll warm myself against the feast.

LAMACHUS Boy, lash the blankets up against the shield.

DICAEOPOLIS Boy, lash the supper up against the chest.

LAMACHUS Myself will bear my knapsack for myself.

DICAEOPOLIS Myself will wear my wraps, and haste away.

LAMACHUS Take up the shield, my boy, and bring it on. Snowing! good lack, a wintry prospect mine.

Take up the chest; a suppery prospect mine.