What
delicious
cheese-cake!
Aristophanes
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 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.
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 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.
