No More Learning

CARIO. 'Tis in the tomb that 'tis your lot to judge. Why don't you go
there? Charon has given you your ticket. [759]

CHORUS. Plague take you! you cursed rascal, who rail at us and have not
even the heart to tell us why your master has made us come. We were
pressed for time and tired out, yet we came with all haste, and in our
hurry we have passed by lots of wild onions without even gathering them.

CARIO. I will no longer conceal the truth from you. Friends, 'tis Plutus
whom my master brings, Plutus, who will give you riches.

CHORUS. What! we shall really all become rich!

CARIO.
Aye, certainly; you will then be Midases, provided you grow ass's
ears.

CHORUS. What joy, what happiness! If what you tell me is true, I long to
dance with delight.

CARIO. And I too, threttanello! [760] I want to imitate Cyclops and lead
your troop by stamping like this. [761] Do you, my dear little ones, cry,
aye, cry again and bleat forth the plaintive song of the sheep and of the
stinking goats; follow me with erected organs like lascivious goats ready
for action.

CHORUS. As for us, threttanello! we will seek you, dear Cyclops,
bleating, and if we find you with your wallet full of fresh herbs, all
disgusting in your filth, sodden with wine and sleeping in the midst of
your sheep, we will seize a great flaming stake and burn out your
eye. [762]

CARIO. I will copy that Circe of Corinth,[763] whose potent philtres
compelled the companions of Philonides to swallow balls of dung, which
she herself had kneaded with her hands, as if they were swine; and do you
too grunt with joy and follow your mother, my little pigs.

CHORUS. Oh! Circe[764] with the potent philtres, who besmear your
companions so filthily, what pleasure I shall have in imitating the son
of Laertes!