DICAEOPOLIS
Enough, enough, get you gone. Rascally hornets, away with you!
Whence has sprung this accursed swarm of Charis[1] fellows which comes
assailing my door?
f[1] A flute-player, mentioned above.
BOEOTIAN
Ah! by Iolas![1] Drive them off, my dear host, you will please me
immensely; all the way from Thebes, they were there piping behind me
and have completely stripped my penny-royal of its blossom.
But will you buy anything of me, some chickens or some locusts?
f[1] A hero, much honoured in Thebes; nephew of Heracles.
DICAEOPOLIS
Ah! good day, Boeotian, eater of good round loaves.[1] What do you
bring?
f[1] A form of bread peculiar to Boeotia.
BOEOTIAN
All that is good in Boeotia, marjoram, penny-royal, rush-mats,
lamp-wicks, ducks, jays, woodcocks, water-fowl, wrens, divers.
DICAEOPOLIS
'Tis a very hail of birds that beats down on my market.
BOEOTIAN
I also bring geese, hares, foxes, moles, hedgehogs, cats, lyres,
martins, otters and eels from the Copaic lake.[1]
f[1] A lake in Boeotia.
DICAEOPOLIS
Ah! my friend, you, who bring me the most delicious of fish,
let me salute your eels.
BOEOTIAN
Come, thou, the eldest of my fifty Copaic virgins, come and
complete the joy of our host.
DICAEOPOLIS
Oh! my well-beloved, thou object of my long regrets, thou art here
at last then, thou, after whom the comic poets sigh, thou, who art
dear to Morychus.[1] Slaves, hither with the stove and the bellows.
Look at this charming eel, that returns to us after six long years
of absence.[2] Salute it, my children; as for myself, I will supply
coal to do honour to the stranger. Take it into my house; death itself
could not separate me from her, if cooked with beet leaves.
f[1] He was the Lucullus of Athens.
f[2] This again fixes the date of the presentation of 'The
Acharnians' to 436 B.C., the sixth year of the War, since the
beginning of which Boeotia had been closed to the Athenians.
BOEOTIAN
And what will you give me in return?
DICAEOPOLIS
It will pay for your market dues. And as to the rest, what do
you wish to sell me?
BOEOTIAN
Why, everything.
DICAEOPOLIS
On what terms? For ready-money or in wares from these parts?
BOEOTIAN
I would take some Athenian produce, that we have not got
in Boeotia.
DICAEOPOLIS
Phaleric anchovies, pottery?
BOEOTIAN
Anchovies, pottery? But these we have. I want produce that is
wanting with us and that is plentiful here.
DICAEOPOLIS
Ah! I have the very thing; take away an Informer, packed up
carefully as crockery-ware.
BOEOTIAN
By the twin gods! I should earn big money, if I took one; I
would exhibit him as an ape full of spite.
DICAEOPOLIS
Hah! here we have Nicarchus,[1] who comes to denounce you.
f[1] An informer.
BOEOTIAN
How small he is!
DICAEOPOLIS
But in his case the whole is one mass of ill-nature.
NICARCHUS
Whose are these goods?
DICAEOPOLIS
Mine; they come from Boeotia, I call Zeus to witness.
NICARCHUS
I denounce them as coming from an enemy's country.
BOEOTIAN
What! you declare war against birds?
NICARCHUS
And I am going to denounce you too.
BOEOTIAN
What harm have I done you?
NICARCHUS
I will say it for the benefit of those that listen; you introduce lamp-wicks
from an enemy's country.
DICAEOPOLIS
Then you go as far as denouncing a wick.
NICARCHUS
It needs but one to set an arsenal afire.
DICAEOPOLIS
A wick set an arsenal ablaze! But how, great gods?
NICARCHUS
Should a Boeotian attach it to an insect's wing, and, taking
advantage of a violent north wind, throw it by means of a tube into
the arsenal and the fire once get hold of the vessels, everything
would soon be devoured by the flames.
DICAEOPOLIS
Ah! wretch! an insect and a wick devour everything!
(HE STRIKES HIM.)
NICARCHUS (TO THE CHORUS)
You will bear witness, that he mishandles me.
DICAEOPOLIS
Shut his mouth. Give me some hay; I am going to pack him up like
a vase, that he may not get broken on the road.
CHORUS
Pack up your goods carefully, friend; that the stranger may not
break it when taking it away.
DICAEOPOLIS
I shall take great care with it, for one would say he is cracked already;
he rings with a false note, which the gods abhor.
CHORUS
But what will be done with him?
DICAEOPOLIS
This is a vase good for all purposes; it will be used as a vessel for holding
all foul things, a mortar for pounding together law-suits, a lamp
for spying upon accounts, and as a cup for the mixing up and poisoning
of everything.
CHORUS
None could ever trust a vessel for domestic use that has such a
ring about it.
DICAEOPOLIS
Oh! it is strong, my friend, and will never get broken, if care is
taken to hang it head downwards.
CHORUS
There! it is well packed now!
BOEOTIAN
Marry, I will proceed to carry off my bundle.
CHORUS
Farewell, worthiest of strangers, take this informer, good for
anything, and fling him where you like.
DICAEOPOLIS
Bah! this rogue has given me enough trouble to pack! Here!
Boeotian, pick up your pottery.
BOEOTIAN
Stoop, Ismenias, that I may put it on your shoulder, and be very
careful with it.
DICAEOPOLIS
You carry nothing worth having; however, take it, for you will
profit by your bargain; the Informers will bring you luck.
A SERVANT OF LAMACHUS
Dicaeopolis!
DICAEOPOLIS
What do you want crying this gait?
SERVANT
Lamachus wants to keep the Feast of Cups,[1] and I come by his order
to bid you one drachma for some thrushes and three more for a Copaic eel.
f[1] The second day of the Dionysia or feasts of Bacchus, kept in the month
Anthesterion (February), and called the Anthesteria. They lasted three
days; the second being the Feast of Cups, the third the Feast of Pans.
Vases, filled with grain of all kinds, were borne in procession and
dedicated to Hermes.
DICAEOPOLIS
And who is this Lamachus, who demands an eel?
SERVANT
'Tis the terrible, indefatigable Lamachus, who is always brandishing
his fearful Gorgon's head and the three plumes which o'ershadow
his helmet.
DICAEOPOLIS
No, no, he will get nothing, even though he gave me his buckler.
Let him eat salt fish, while he shakes his plumes, and, if he comes
here making any din, I shall call the inspectors. As for myself,
I shall take away all these goods; I go home on thrushes' wings
and black-birds' pinions.[1]
f[1] A parody on some verses from a lost poet.
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