HERALD A O more toil and fighting!

Lamachus!

LAMACHUS [from within] Who is making such noise around my home and its brass ornaments?

HERALD A Our generals have ordered you to take your troops and plumes with all speed today and march through the snow

to guard the passes. For they have just learned that some Boeotian bandits will invade around the time of the Feast of Cups.

LAMACHUS Ah, the generals. They are more numerous than useful. Is it not monstrous that I cannot stay to enjoy the celebrations?

DICAEOPOLIS An army with the spirit of Lamachus!

LAMACHUS You wretch! Are you still laughing at me?

DICAEOPOLIS Are you keen to fight this four-winged Geryon?

LAMACHUS Alas! What a message that herald brought!

DICAEOPOLIS Ah ha! There is another herald running here. What message has he got for me?

HERALD B Dicaeopolis!

DICAEOPOLIS What is it?

HERALD Grab your basket and your cup

as quick as you can, and come to the feast. The priest of Dionysus has sent for you.

But you have to get a move on. Hurry! They have been waiting a long while to eat. Everything is ready--couches, tables, cushions,

coverings, garlands, perfume, prostitutes, finely baked flat cakes, muffins, layer cakes,

and dancing girls who are so beautiful in that “Dearest Harmodius” song and dance. So come on--as quicky as you can!

Damn it—

it’s just my bad luck!

DICAEOPOLIS That’s because you chose

as your patron the great Gorgon’s head. Slave, shut the door, and get someone to set out our dinner.

LAMACHUS Slave! Slave! Bring out the sack for my provisions.

DICAEOPOLIS Slave! Slave! Bring out

a hamper for my dinner.

LAMACUS [to his Slave] Get salt, my lad,

and thyme . . . and an onion,

DICAEOPOLIS [to his Slave] A slice of fish for me.

I’m not fond of onions.

LAMACHUS Boy, fetch me some dried fish wrapped in stale fig leaves.

DICAEOPOLIS Fetch me some fatty meat in a fig leaf.

I’ll cook it here.

LAMACHUS Bring me two plumes from my helmet.

DICAEOPOLIS Bring me some thrushes and wild pigeon.

LAMACHUS These ostrich plumes—so white and beautiful.

DICAEOPOLIS The flesh from this pigeon is so well cooked— it’s delicious.

LAMACHUS [to Dicaeopolis] Listen to me, old man, stop trying to make fun of my weapons.

DICAEOPOLIS My dear fellow, please cease watching my birds.

LAMACHUS Bring me the case for my triple plumes.

DICAEOPOLIS Bring me the small of bowl full of rabbit stew.

LAMACHUS The moths have been eating my helmet plumes.

DICAEOPOLIS And I have been eating my stew before dinner.

LAMACHUS My dear fellow, would you please refrain from speaking to me?

DICAEOPOLIS I’m not speaking to you. I am arguing with my slave.

Well then, do you want to make a bet? We’ll leave it to Lamachus to resolve: which of these two— a locust or a thrush—is the best to eat?

LAMACHUS You impudent rascal!

DICAEOPOLIS He much prefers the locust.

LAMACHUS Slave, take down my spear and bring it here.

DICAEOPOLIS Slave, pick up the sausage and bring it here.

LAMACHUS Come, let me pull my spear from it cover. Now, my boy, hold this spear firmly.

DICAEOPOLIS And you, my lad, hang onto this skewer.

LAMACHUS Boy, bring out the stand for my shield.

DICAEOPOLIS [to his Slave] That loaf of bread— bring it out here, hot from the oven.

LAMACHUS Bring my round shield with the Gorgon’s head.

DICAEOPOLIS And bring me some of my circular cheese cake.

LAMACHUS Is this not what men consider sheer insolence?

DICAEOPOLIS Is this not what men consider sweet cheese cake?

LAMACHUS Pour some oil on the shield. In the bronze

I can see an old man who will be charged for shirking his military duties.

DICAEOPOLIS Pour out some honey. In here one can see

an old man telling Lamachus—the man with the Gorgon’s head—to weep with sorrow.

LAMACHUS Slave, bring out my full body armour.

DICAEOPOLIS Slave, fetch my armour--a full drinking cup

LAMACHUS [putting on his breastplate] With this I am armed against my enemies.

DICAEOPOLIS [waving his drinking cup] With this I am armed against my fellow drinkers.

LAMACHUS Slave, strap the mattress onto the shield.

DICAEOPOLIS Slave, strap the dinner into the basket.

LAMACHUS I’ll carry my knapsack myself.

DICAEOPOLIS I’ll get my cloak and then we’ll be off.

LAMACHUS Slave, pick up the shield and take it outside. Let’s get going. Good heavens, it’s snowing. This is going to be a wintery business.

DICAEOPOLIS Pick up the food. We have a party to attend.

CHORUS [to Lamachus] Good luck to you both in your campaigns, as you leave on your differing journeys— one to stand guard and freeze in the snow,

the other to carouse in a flowery crown, and lie down to sleep with a tender young maid, who’ll massage his cock and make sure he gets laid.

To speak from the heart, may Zeus do away

with Antimachus, who spits and splutters and writes useless verse. As chorus leader, last year at the Lenaea he dismissed me

without a dinner. Let me observe him craving a squid already cooked and hot, as it is set out on a tray and moves,

like a ship approaching shore, towards him,

he stretches out his hand to reach for the tray

but a dog seizes the squid and scampers away.

That is one disaster I hope happens to him but I also hope he has trouble at night. As he returns in a sweat from riding his horse may he meet an Orestes crazy from drink,

who bashes his head, so he has to stoop to pick up a stone, but, confused in the dark, he scoops up a turd, just recently dumped,

runs at Orestes, lets fly with the shit but misses—and it’s Cratinus who's hit.

SLAVE OF LAMACHUS [rushing to Lamachus’s house] You slaves of Lamachus inside the house, we need water--some water warmed up in a little pot! Get lint and ointment, some greasy wool, and an ankle splint. The man was hurt trying to leap a ditch— he hit a pointed stake, twisted his foot, strained the joint, and then fell on a stone