OLD WOMAN. You are only an old fool!

YOUTH. Ah! he is playing the gallant, he is fondling your b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and thinks I do not see it.

OLD WOMAN. Oh! no, by Aphrodite, no, you naughty jealous fellow.

CHREMYLUS. Oh! most certainly not, by Hecate![800] Verily and indeed I would need to be mad! But, young man, I cannot forgive you, if you cast off this beautiful child.

YOUTH. Why, I adore her.

CHREMYLUS. But nevertheless she accuses you ...

YOUTH. Accuses me of what?

CHREMYLUS. ... of having told her insolently, "Once upon a time the Milesians were brave."

YOUTH. Oh! I shall not dispute with you about her.

CHREMYLUS. Why not?

YOUTH. Out of respect for your age; with anyone but you, I should not be so easy; come, take the girl and be happy.

CHREMYLUS. I see, I see; you don't want her any more.

OLD WOMAN. Nay! this is a thing that cannot be allowed.

YOUTH. I cannot argue with a woman, who has been making love these thirteen thousand years.

CHREMYLUS. Yet, since you liked the wine, you should now consume the lees.

YOUTH. But these lees are quite rancid and fusty.

CHREMYLUS. Pa.s.s them through a straining-cloth; they'll clarify.

YOUTH. But I want to go in with you to offer these chaplets to the G.o.d.

OLD WOMAN. And I too have something to tell him.

YOUTH. Then I don't enter.

CHREMYLUS. Come, have no fear; she won't harm you.

YOUTH. 'Tis true; I've been managing the old bark long enough.

OLD WOMAN. Go in; I'll follow after you.

CHREMYLUS. Good G.o.ds! that old hag has fastened herself to her youth like a limpet to its rock.

CHORUS. [_Missing._]

CARIO (_opening the door_). Who knocks at the door? Halloa! I see no one; 'twas then by chance it gave forth that plaintive tone.

HERMES (_to Carlo, who is about to close the door_). Cario! stop!

CARIO. Eh! friend, was it you who knocked so loudly? Tell me.

HERMES. No, I was going to knock and you forestalled me by opening. Come, call your master quick, then his wife and his children, then his slave and his dog, then thyself and his pig.

CARIO. And what's it all about?

HERMES. It's about this, rascal! Zeus wants to serve you all with the same sauce and hurl the lot of you into the Barathrum.

CARIO. Have a care for your tongue, you bearer of ill tidings! But why does he want to treat us in that scurvy fashion?

HERMES. Because you have committed the most dreadful crime. Since Plutus has recovered his sight, there is nothing for us other G.o.ds, neither incense, nor laurels, nor cakes, nor victims, nor anything in the world.

CARIO. And you will never be offered anything more; you governed us too ill.

HERMES. I care nothing at all about the other G.o.ds, but 'tis myself. I tell you I am dying of hunger.

CARIO. That's reasoning like a wise fellow.

HERMES. Formerly, from earliest dawn, I was offered all sorts of good things in the wine-shops,--wine-cakes, honey, dried figs, in short, dishes worthy of Hermes. Now, I lie the livelong day on my back, with my legs in the air, famishing.

CARIO. And quite right too, for you often had them punished who treated you so well.[801]

HERMES. Ah! the lovely cake they used to knead for me on the fourth of the month![802]

CARIO. You recall it vainly; your regrets are useless! there'll be no more cake.

HERMES. Ah! the ham I was wont to devour!

CARIO. Well then! make use of your legs and hop on one leg upon the wine-skin,[803] to while away the time.

HERMES. Oh! the grilled entrails I used to swallow down!

CARIO. Your own have got the colic, methinks.

HERMES. Oh! the delicious tipple, half wine, half water!

CARIO. Here, swallow that and be off. (_He discharges a fart._)

HERMES. Would you do a friend a service?

CARIO. Willingly, if I can.

HERMES. Give me some well-baked bread and a big hunk of the victims they are sacrificing in your house.

CARIO. That would be stealing.