Take up the basket, 'tis a
question
of getting to the feast.
Aristophanes
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 rub his tool for
him.
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,[259] 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. [260]
SLAVE OF LAMACHUS. Slaves of Lamachus! Water, water in a little pot! Make
it warm, get ready cloths, cerate, greasy wool and bandages for his
ankle.
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 rub his tool for
him.
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,[259] 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. [260]
SLAVE OF LAMACHUS. Slaves of Lamachus! Water, water in a little pot! Make
it warm, get ready cloths, cerate, greasy wool and bandages for his
ankle.
