Page:Acharnians and two other plays (1909).djvu/68

50 Chorus. See with what a gait and air,

What a magisterial look,

Like a cool determined cook,

He conducts the whole affair.

Countr. Ο miserable! wretched! wretched man! Dic. Fellow, take care with those unlucky words.

Apply them to yourself. Countr. Ah, dear good friend,

So you've got peace; a peace all to yourself!

And if ye could but spare me a little drop,

Just only a little taste, only five years. Dic. Why, what's the matter with ye? Countr. I'm ruinated,

Quite and entirely, losing my poor beasts,

My oxen, I lost 'em, both of 'em. Dic. In what way? Countr. The Bœotians! the Bœotians! it was they.

They came down at the back of Phyle there,

And drove away my bullocks, both of 'em Dic. But you're in white. I see; you're out of mourning. Countr. (in continuation).

That indeed were all my comfort and support:

That used to serve for my manure and maintenance

In dung and daily bread; the poor dear beasts. Dic. And what is it you want? Countr. I'm blind well nigh,

With weeping and grief. Derketes is my name,

In a farm here next to Phyle born and bred:

So if ever you wish to do what's friendly by me,

Do smear my two poor eyes with the balsam of peace. Dic. Friend, I'm not keeping a dispensary. Countr. Do, just to get me a sight of my poor oxen.