Page:Acharnians and two other plays (1909).djvu/33

Rh Daughter. Give me the cruet, mother,

And let me pour it upon the holy cake. Dic. Oh, blessed Bacchus, what a joy it is

To go thus unmolested, undisturbed,

My wife, my children, and my family,

With our accustomed joyful ceremony,

To celebrate thy festival in my farm.

Well, here's success to the truce of thirty years. Wife. Mind your behaviour, child; carry the basket

In a modest proper manner; look demure

And grave; a happy fellow will he be

That has the rummaging of ye. Come, move on.

Mind your gold trinkets, they'll be stolen else. Dic. Follow behind there, Xanthias, with the pole,

And I'll strike up the bacchanalian chaunt.

Wife, you must be spectator; go within,

And mount to the housetop to behold us pass. [Sings.

Leader of the revel rout,

Of the drunken roar and shout,

Crazy mirth and saucy jesting,

Frolic and intrigue clandestine!

Half a dozen years are passed,

Here we meet in peace at last.

All my wars and fights are o'er;

Other battles please me more,

With my neighbour's maid, the Thracian,

Found marauding in the wood;

Seizing on the fair occasion,

With a quick retaliation

Making an immediate booty

Of her innocence and beauty.

If a drunken head should ache,

Bones and heads we never break.

If we quarrel overnight;

At a full carousing soak,

In the morning all is right;

And the shield hung out of sight

In the chimney smoke. Chorus. That's the man. Mind your aim;