There is already a wind
whirling
round my navel; take great care or,
from sheer fright, I shall form food for my beetle.
from sheer fright, I shall form food for my beetle.
Aristophanes
Come, pluck up a spirit;
rush upwards from the earth, stretch out your speedy wings and make
straight for the palace of Zeus; for once give up foraging in your daily
food. --Hi! you down there, what are you after now? Oh! my god! 'tis a man
emptying his belly in the Piraeus, close to the house where the bad girls
are. But is it my death you seek then, my death? Will you not bury that
right away and pile a great heap of earth upon it and plant wild thyme
therein and pour perfumes on it? If I were to fall from up here and
misfortune happened to me, the town of Chios[273]would owe a fine of five
talents for my death, all along of your cursed rump. Alas! how frightened
I am! oh! I have no heart for jests. Ah! machinist, take great care of
me.
There is already a wind whirling round my navel; take great care or,
from sheer fright, I shall form food for my beetle. . . . But I think I am
no longer far from the gods; aye, that is the dwelling of Zeus, I
perceive. Hullo! Hi! where is the doorkeeper? Will no one open?
* * * * *
_The scene changes and heaven is presented. _
HERMES. Meseems I can sniff a man. (_He perceives Trygaeus astride his
beetle. _) Why, what plague is this?
TRYGAEUS. A horse-beetle.
rush upwards from the earth, stretch out your speedy wings and make
straight for the palace of Zeus; for once give up foraging in your daily
food. --Hi! you down there, what are you after now? Oh! my god! 'tis a man
emptying his belly in the Piraeus, close to the house where the bad girls
are. But is it my death you seek then, my death? Will you not bury that
right away and pile a great heap of earth upon it and plant wild thyme
therein and pour perfumes on it? If I were to fall from up here and
misfortune happened to me, the town of Chios[273]would owe a fine of five
talents for my death, all along of your cursed rump. Alas! how frightened
I am! oh! I have no heart for jests. Ah! machinist, take great care of
me.
There is already a wind whirling round my navel; take great care or,
from sheer fright, I shall form food for my beetle. . . . But I think I am
no longer far from the gods; aye, that is the dwelling of Zeus, I
perceive. Hullo! Hi! where is the doorkeeper? Will no one open?
* * * * *
_The scene changes and heaven is presented. _
HERMES. Meseems I can sniff a man. (_He perceives Trygaeus astride his
beetle. _) Why, what plague is this?
TRYGAEUS. A horse-beetle.
