CARIO O ye who many a day have chewed a root of thyme with master, My labour-loving village-friends, be pleased to step out faster; Be staunch and strong, and stride along, let nothing now delay you, Your fortunes lie upon the die, come save them quick, I pray you.
CHORUS Now don’t you see we’re bustling, as fast as we can go, sir? We’re not so young as once we were, and Age is somewhat slow, sir. You’d think it fun to see us run, and that before you’ve told us The reason why your master seems so anxious to behold us.
CARIO Why, I’ve been telling long ago; ’tis you are not attending! He bade me call and fetch you all that you, for ever ending This chill ungenial life of yours, might lead a life luxurious.
CHORUS Explain to me how that can be; i’ faith I’m rather curious
CARIO He’s got a man, an ancient man, of sorriest form and feature, Bald, toothless, squalid, wrinkled, bent, a very loathsome creature. I really should not be surprised to hear the wretch is circumcised.
CHORUS O Messenger of golden news, you thrill my heart with pleasure. I do believe the man has come with quite a heap of treasure!
CARIO O aye, he’s got a heap, I guess, a heap of woes and wretchedness.
CHORUS You think, I see, you think you’re free to gull me with impunity. No, no; my stick I’ve got and quick I’ll get my opportunity.
CARIO What, think you I’m the sort of man such things as that to do, sirs? Am I the man a tale to tell wherein there’s nothing true, sirs?
CHORUS How absolute the knave has grown! our shins, my boy, are bawling Ah! Ah! with all their might and main, for gyves and fetters calling.
CARIO You’ve drawn your lot; the grave you’ve got to judge in; why delay now? Old Charon gives the ticket there; why don’t you pass away now? Go hang yourself, you peevish elf, you born buffoon and scoffer. You love to tantalize and tease, nor condescend to offer A word of explanation why we’re summoned here so hurriedly.
CHORUS I had to shirk some urgent work, and here so quickly hasted, That many a tempting root of thyme I passed, and left untasted.
CARIO I’ll hide it not: ’tis Wealth we’ve got; the God of wealth we’ve captured, You’ll all be rich and wealthy now. Ha, don’t you look enraptured?
CHORUS He says we’ll all be wealthy now; upon my word this passes, sirs.
CARIO O yes, you’ll all be Midases, if only you’ve the asses’ ears.
CHORUS O I’m so happy, I’m so glad, I needs must dance for jollity, If what you say is really true, and not your own frivolity
CARIO And I before your ranks will go, Threttanelo! Threttanelo! And I, the Cyclops, heel and toe, will dance the sailor’s hornpipe,—so! Come up, come up, my little ones all, come raise your multitudinous squall, Come bleating loudly the tuneful notes Of sheep and of rankly-odorous goats. Come follow along on your loves intent; come goats, ’tis time to your meal ye went.
CHORUS And you we’ll seek where’er you go, Threttanelo! Threttanelo! And you, the Cyclops, will we find in dirty, drunken sleep reclined, Your well-stuffed wallet beside you too, with many a potherb bathed in dew. And then from out of the fire we’ll take
CHORUS A sharply-pointed and burning stake, And whirling it round till our shoulders ache, its flame in your hissing eyeball slake.
CARIO And now I’ll change to Circe’s part, who mixed her drugs with baleful art; Who late in Corinth, as I’ve learned, Philonides’s comrades turned To loathsome swine in a loathsome sty, And fed them all on kneaded dung which, kneading, she amongst them flung. And turn you all into swine will I. And then ye’ll grunt in your bestial glee Wee! wee! wee! Follow your mother, pigs, quoth she.
CHORUS We’ll catch you, Circe dear, we will; who mix your drugs with baleful skill; Who with enchantments strange and vile ensnare our comrades and defile; We’ll hang you up as you erst were hung By bold Odysseus, lady fair; and then as if a goat you were We’ll rub your nose in the kneaded dung. Like Aristyllus you’ll gape with glee Wee! wee! wee! Follow your mother, pigs, quoth he.
CARIO But now, old mates, break off, break off; no longer may we jest and scoff; No longer play the fool to-day. And ye must sail on another tack, Whilst I, behind my master’s back, Rummage for meat and bread to eat, And then, whilst yet the food I chew, I’ll join the work we are going to do.
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