SERVANT With pipkins! like a wretched little Hermes!
TRYGAEUS Well then, what think you of a stall-fed bull?
SERVANT A bull? O no! no need of bull-works now.
TRYGAEUS Well then, a great fat pig?
SERVANT No, no.
TRYGAEUS Why not?
SERVANT Lest, like Theagenes, we grow quite piggish.
TRYGAEUS What other victim shall we have?
SERVANT A baalamb.
TRYGAEUS A baalamb!
SERVANT Yes, by Zeus!
TRYGAEUS But that’s Ionic, That word is.
SERVANT All the better: then, you see, If any speak for war, the whole assembly Will talk Ionic and cry out Bah! Bah!
TRYGAEUS Good, very good.
SERVANT And they’ll be milder so, And we shall live like lambs among ourselves, And be much gentler towards our dear allies.
TRYGAEUS There, get the sheep as quickly as you can, I’ll find an altar for the sacrifice.
CHORUS Sure each design, when God and fortune speed it, Succeeds to our mind, what is wanted we find Just at the moment we need it.
TRYGAEUS The truths you mention none can doubt, for see I’ve brought the altar out.
CHORUS Then hasten the task to perform: War, with its vehement storm, Seems for the instant to cease; Its soughings decrease, Shifting and veering to Peace.
TRYGAEUS Well, here’s the basket ready stored with barley grain, and wreath, and sword
CHORUS And here’s the pan of sacred fire: the sheep alone we now require.
CHORUS Make haste, make haste: if Chaeris see, He’ll come here uninvited, And pipe and blow to that degree, His windy labours needs must be By some small gift requited.
TRYGAEUS Here, take the basket and the lustral water, And pace the altar round from left to right.
SERVANT See, I’ve been round: now tell me something else.
TRYGAEUS Then next I’ll take this torch and dip it in. (To the victim, as he sprinkles it.) Shake your head, sirrah, (To the servant.) bring the barley, you;
TRYGAEUS I’ll hold the bason while you wash your hands. Now throw the corn amongst the audience.
SERVANT There.
TRYGAEUS What! thrown it out already?
SERVANT Yes, by Hermes! There’s not a single man amongst them all But has at least one corn, I’ll warrant you.
TRYGAEUS Aye, but the women?
SERVANT If they haven’t got one, They’ll get it by and by.
TRYGAEUS Now, then, to prayers: Who’s here? where are our honest simple folk?
SERVANT Here: these are simple folk; I’ll give to them.
TRYGAEUS What, these good simple folk?
SERVANT I’faith I think so; Who, though we’ve poured such lots of water on them, Yet stand stock still, and never budge a step.
TRYGAEUS Come, let us pray, no dallying; let us pray.
TRYGAEUS Of the dance and song and the bridal throng, These offerings take which thy votaries make.
CHORUS O mistress dear, we beseech you hear, And act not you as the wantons do: They love to spy at the passers by Through the half-closed door, And then if you heed, they are gone with speed; If you turn away, in an instant they Peep out once more as they did before. But deal not thus unkindly with us.
TRYGAEUS No, by Zeus! but display in a true honest way Your perfect entire full form to our view, Who with constant desire These thirteen long years have been pining for you. When our fightings are stayed, and our tumults allayed, We will hail thee a Lady for ever: And O put an end to the whispers of doubt, These wonderful clever Ingenious suspicions we bandy about; And solder and glue the Hellenes anew With the old-fashioned true
TRYGAEUS
Elixir of love, and attemper our mind With thoughts of each other more genial and kind. Moreover we pray that our market-place may Be furnished each day with a goodly display, And for garlic, and cucumbers early and rare, Pomegranates, and apples in heaps to be there, And wee little coats for our servants to wear. And Boeotia to send us her pigeons and widgeons, And her geese and her plovers: and plentiful creels Once more from Copais to journey with eels, And for us to be hustling, and tussling, and bustling,
TRYGAEUS With Morychus, Teleas, Glaucetes, all The gluttons together besieging the stall, To purchase the fish: and then I could wish For Melanthius to come too late for the fair, And for them to be sold, and for him to despair, And out of his own Medea a groan Of anguish to borrow, “I perish! I perish! bereaved of my sweet, My treasure, my darling, enbowered in her beet;” And for all men to laugh at his sorrow. These things we pray; O mistress, grant us these.
SERVANT Here take the cleaver: now with clever skill Slaughter the sheep.
TRYGAEUS No, no, I must not.
SERVANT Why?
TRYGAEUS Peace loves not, friend, the sight of victims slain: Hers is a bloodless altar, Take it in,
TRYGAEUS And when you have slain it, bring the thighs out here. There: now the sheep is—saved for the Choregus.
CHORUS But you the while, outside with us remaining, Lay, handy and quick, these fagots of stick, Whatever is needful ordaining.
TRYGAEUS Now don’t you think I have laid the wood as well as most diviners could?
CHORUS (Admiringly.) Yes! just what I looked for from you. All that is wise you can do. All things that daring and skill Suffice to fulfil You can perform if you will.
TRYGAEUS (Coughing.) Dear! how this lighted brand is smoking, your Stilbides is nearly choking; I’ll bring the table out with speed; a servant’s help we shall not need.
CHORUS Sure all with admiration true Will praise a man so clever, Who passed such toils and dangers through,
CHORUS And saved the holy city too; An envied name for ever.
SERVANT I’ve done the job; here take and cook the thighs While I go fetch the inwards and the cates.
TRYGAEUS I’ll see to this: you should have come before.
SERVANT Well, here I am: I’m sure I’ve not been long.
TRYGAEUS Take these, and roast them nicely: here’s a fellow Coming this way, with laurel round his head. Who can he be?
SERVANT He looks an arrant humbug. Some seer, I think.
TRYGAEUS No, no; ’tis Hierocles, The oracle-mongering chap from Oreus town.
SERVANT What brings him here?
TRYGAEUS ’Tis evident he comes To raise some opposition to our truces.
SERVANT No, ’tis the savour of the roast attracts him.
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