Peace [18]
that of this
poor lance maker too.
TRYGAEUS
Come, come, what are you asking for these two crests?
ARMOURER
What do you bid for them?
TRYGAEUS
What do I bid? Oh! I am ashamed to say. Still, as the clasp is
of good workmanship, I would give two, even three measures of dried
figs; I could use them for dusting the table.
ARMOURER
All right, tell them to bring me the dried figs. (To the
crest-maker) That's better than nothing, my friend.
TRYGAEUS
Take them away, be off with your crests and get you gone; they are
moulting, they are losing all their hair; I would not give a single
fig for them.
ARMOURER
Good gods, what am I going to do with this fine ten-mina
breastplate, which is so splendidly made?
TRYGAEUS
Oh, you will lose nothing over it. Sell it to me at cost price. It
would be very useful as a thunder-mug...
ARMOURER
Cease your insults, both to me and my wares.
TRYGAEUS
...if propped on three stones. (He sits on it.) Look, it's
admirable
ARMOURER
But how can you wipe yourself, idiot?
TRYGAEUS (with appropriate gestures)
I can put one hand through here, and the other there, and so...
ARMOURER
What! do you wipe yourself with both hands?
TRYGAEUS
Aye, so that I may not be accused of robbing the State, by
blocking up an oar-hole in the galley.
ARMOURER
Would you crap in a thunder-mug that cost ten minae?
TRYGAEUS
Undoubtedly, you rascal. Do you think I would sell my arse for a
thousand drachmae?
ARMOURER
Come, have the money paid over to me.
TRYGAEUS
No, friend; I find it pinches my bottom. Take it away, I won't buy
it.
ARMOURER
What is to be done with this trumpet, for which I gave sixty
drachmae the other day?
TRYGAEUS
Pour lead into the hollow and fit a good, long stick to the top;
and you will have a balanced cottabus.
ARMOURER
Don't mock me.
TRYGAEUS
Well, here's another idea. Pour in lead as I said, add here a dish
hung on strings, and you will have a balance for weighing the figs
which you give your slaves in the fields.
ARMOURER
Cursed fate! I am ruined. Here are helmets, for which I gave a
mina each. What I to do with them? who will buy them?
TRYGAEUS
Go and sell them to the Egyptians; they will do for measuring
laxatives.
ARMOURER
Ah! poor helmet-maker, things are indeed in a bad way.
TRYGAEUS
He has no cause for complaint.
ARMOURER
But helmets will be no more used.
TRYGAEUS
Let him learn to fit a handle to them and he can sell them for
more money.
ARMOURER
Let us be off, comrade.
TRYGAEUS
No, I want to buy these spears.
ARMOURER
What will you give?
TRYGAEUS
If they could be split in two, I would take them at a drachma
per hundred to use as vine-props.
ARMOURER
The insolent dog! Let us go, friend.
(The munitions-makers all depart.)
TRYGAEUS (as some young boys enter)
Ah I here come the guests, young folks from the table to take a
pee; I fancy they also want to hum over what they will be singing
presently. Hi! child! what do you reckon to sing? Stand there and give
me the opening line.
BOY
"Glory to the young warriors..."
TRYGAEUS
Oh! leave off about your young warriors, you little wretch; we are
at peace and you are an idiot and a rascal.
BOY
"The skirmish begins, the hollow bucklers clash against each
other."
TRYGAEUS
Bucklers! Leave me in peace with your bucklers.
BOY
"And then there came groanings and shouts of victory."
TRYGAEUS
Groanings! ah! by Bacchus! look out for yourself, you cursed
squaller, if you start wearying us again with your groanings and
hollow bucklers.
BOY
Then what should I sing? Tell me what pleases you.
poor lance maker too.
TRYGAEUS
Come, come, what are you asking for these two crests?
ARMOURER
What do you bid for them?
TRYGAEUS
What do I bid? Oh! I am ashamed to say. Still, as the clasp is
of good workmanship, I would give two, even three measures of dried
figs; I could use them for dusting the table.
ARMOURER
All right, tell them to bring me the dried figs. (To the
crest-maker) That's better than nothing, my friend.
TRYGAEUS
Take them away, be off with your crests and get you gone; they are
moulting, they are losing all their hair; I would not give a single
fig for them.
ARMOURER
Good gods, what am I going to do with this fine ten-mina
breastplate, which is so splendidly made?
TRYGAEUS
Oh, you will lose nothing over it. Sell it to me at cost price. It
would be very useful as a thunder-mug...
ARMOURER
Cease your insults, both to me and my wares.
TRYGAEUS
...if propped on three stones. (He sits on it.) Look, it's
admirable
ARMOURER
But how can you wipe yourself, idiot?
TRYGAEUS (with appropriate gestures)
I can put one hand through here, and the other there, and so...
ARMOURER
What! do you wipe yourself with both hands?
TRYGAEUS
Aye, so that I may not be accused of robbing the State, by
blocking up an oar-hole in the galley.
ARMOURER
Would you crap in a thunder-mug that cost ten minae?
TRYGAEUS
Undoubtedly, you rascal. Do you think I would sell my arse for a
thousand drachmae?
ARMOURER
Come, have the money paid over to me.
TRYGAEUS
No, friend; I find it pinches my bottom. Take it away, I won't buy
it.
ARMOURER
What is to be done with this trumpet, for which I gave sixty
drachmae the other day?
TRYGAEUS
Pour lead into the hollow and fit a good, long stick to the top;
and you will have a balanced cottabus.
ARMOURER
Don't mock me.
TRYGAEUS
Well, here's another idea. Pour in lead as I said, add here a dish
hung on strings, and you will have a balance for weighing the figs
which you give your slaves in the fields.
ARMOURER
Cursed fate! I am ruined. Here are helmets, for which I gave a
mina each. What I to do with them? who will buy them?
TRYGAEUS
Go and sell them to the Egyptians; they will do for measuring
laxatives.
ARMOURER
Ah! poor helmet-maker, things are indeed in a bad way.
TRYGAEUS
He has no cause for complaint.
ARMOURER
But helmets will be no more used.
TRYGAEUS
Let him learn to fit a handle to them and he can sell them for
more money.
ARMOURER
Let us be off, comrade.
TRYGAEUS
No, I want to buy these spears.
ARMOURER
What will you give?
TRYGAEUS
If they could be split in two, I would take them at a drachma
per hundred to use as vine-props.
ARMOURER
The insolent dog! Let us go, friend.
(The munitions-makers all depart.)
TRYGAEUS (as some young boys enter)
Ah I here come the guests, young folks from the table to take a
pee; I fancy they also want to hum over what they will be singing
presently. Hi! child! what do you reckon to sing? Stand there and give
me the opening line.
BOY
"Glory to the young warriors..."
TRYGAEUS
Oh! leave off about your young warriors, you little wretch; we are
at peace and you are an idiot and a rascal.
BOY
"The skirmish begins, the hollow bucklers clash against each
other."
TRYGAEUS
Bucklers! Leave me in peace with your bucklers.
BOY
"And then there came groanings and shouts of victory."
TRYGAEUS
Groanings! ah! by Bacchus! look out for yourself, you cursed
squaller, if you start wearying us again with your groanings and
hollow bucklers.
BOY
Then what should I sing? Tell me what pleases you.