SERVANT Yes, by Hermes! and all the spectators have had their share.

TRYGAEUS But not the women?

SERVANT Oh! their husbands will give it them this evening.(1)

f(1) An obscene jest.

TRYGAEUS Let us pray! Who is here? Are there any good men?(1)

f(1) Before sacrificing, the officiating person asked, "Who is here?" and those present answered, "Many good men."

SERVANT Come, give, so that I may sprinkle these. Faith! they are indeed good, brave men.

TRYGAEUS You believe so?

SERVANT I am sure, and the proof of it is that we have flooded them with l.u.s.tral water and they have not budged an inch.(1)

f(1) The actors forming the chorus are meant here.

TRYGAEUS Come, then, to prayers; to prayers, quick!--Oh! Peace, mighty queen, venerated G.o.ddess, thou, who presidest over choruses and at nuptials, deign to accept the sacrifices we offer thee.

SERVANT Receive it, greatly honoured mistress, and behave not like the coquettes, who half open the door to entice the gallants, draw back when they are stared at, to return once more if a man pa.s.ses on. But do not act like this to us.

TRYGAEUS No, but like an honest woman, show thyself to thy worshippers, who are worn with regretting thee all these thirteen years. Hush the noise of battle, be a true Lysimacha to us.(1) Put an end to this t.i.ttle-tattle, to this idle babble, that set us defying one another.

Cause the Greeks once more to taste the pleasant beverage of friendship and temper all hearts with the gentle feeling of forgiveness. Make excellent commodities flow to our markets, fine heads of garlic, early cuc.u.mbers, apples, pomegranates and nice little cloaks for the slaves; make them bring geese, ducks, pigeons and larks from Boeotia and baskets of eels from Lake Copais; we shall all rush to buy them, disputing their possession with Morychus, Teleas, Glaucetes and every other glutton.

Melanthius(2) will arrive on the market last of all; 'twill be, "no more eels, all sold!" and then he'll start a-groaning and exclaiming as in his monologue of Medea,(3) "I am dying, I am dying! Alas! I have let those hidden in the beet escape me!"(4) And won't we laugh? These are the wishes, mighty G.o.ddess, which we pray thee to grant.

f(1) Lysimacha is derived from (the Greek for) put an end to, and (the Greek for) fight.

f(2) A tragic poet, reputed a great gourmand.

f(3) A tragedy by Melanthius.

f(4) Eels were cooked with beet.--A parody on some verses in the 'Medea' of Melanthius.

SERVANT Take the knife and slaughter the sheep like a finished cook.

TRYGAEUS No, the G.o.ddess does not wish it.(1)

f(1) As a matter of fact, the Sicyonians, who celebrated the festival of Peace on the sixteenth day of the month of Hecatombeon (July), spilled no blood upon her altar.

SERVANT And why not?

TRYGAEUS Blood cannot please Peace, so let us spill none upon her altar.

Therefore go and sacrifice the sheep in the house, cut off the legs and bring them here; thus the carcase will be saved for the ch.o.r.egus.

CHORUS You, who remain here, get chopped wood and everything needed for the sacrifice ready.

TRYGAEUS Don't I look like a diviner preparing his mystic fire?

CHORUS Undoubtedly. Will anything that it behooves a wise man to know escape you? Don't you know all that a man should know, who is distinguished for his wisdom and inventive daring?

TRYGAEUS There! the wood catches. Its smoke blinds poor Stilbides.(1) I am now going to bring the table and thus be my own slave.

f(1) A celebrated diviner, who had accompanied the Athenians on their expedition to Sicily. Thus the War was necessary to make his calling pay and the smoke of the sacrifice offered to Peace must therefore be unpleasant to him.

CHORUS You have braved a thousand dangers to save your sacred town. All honour to you! your glory will be ever envied.

SERVANT Hold! Here are the legs, place them upon the altar. For myself, I mean to go back to the entrails and the cakes.

TRYGAEUS I'll see to those; I want you here.

SERVANT Well then, here I am. Do you think I have been long?

TRYGAEUS Just get this roasted. Ah! who is this man, crowned with laurel, who is coming to me?

SERVANT He has a self-important look; is he some diviner?

TRYGAEUS No, I' faith! 'tis Hierocles.

SERVANT Ah! that oracle-monger from Oreus.(1) What is he going to tell us?

f(1) A town in Euboea on the channel which separated that island from Thessaly.

TRYGAEUS Evidently he is coming to oppose the peace.

SERVANT No, 'tis the odour of the fat that attracts him.

TRYGAEUS Let us appear not to see him.

SERVANT Very well.

HIEROCLES What sacrifice is this? to what G.o.d are you offering it?

TRYGAEUS (TO THE SERVANT) Silence!--(ALOUD.) Look after the roasting and keep your hands off the meat.

HIEROCLES To whom are you sacrificing? Answer me. Ah! the tail(1) is showing favourable omens.

f(1) When sacrificing, the tail was cut off the victim and thrown into the fire. From the way in which it burnt the inference was drawn as to whether or not the sacrifice was agreeable to the deity.

SERVANT Aye, very favourable, oh, loved and mighty Peace!

HIEROCLES Come, cut off the first offering(1) and make the oblation.

f(1) This was the part that belonged to the priests and diviners. As one of the latter cla.s.s, Hierocles is in haste to see this piece cut off.

TRYGAEUS 'Tis not roasted enough.