Page:The Greek bucolic poets (1912).djvu/201

Rh ’Faith, that’s ever my Aeschinas; something hastier than might be; will have all his own way. Butcome, what is it?

There was the Argive and I and Agis the jockey out o’ Thessaly, and Cleunicus the man-at-arms a-drinking at my farm. I’d killed a pair of. pullets, look you, and a sucking—pig, and broached ’em a hogshead of Bibline ﬁne and fragrant—four years in the cask, mark you, and yet, where new’s best, as good as new—and on the board a cuttleﬁsh and cockles to boot; i’faith, a jolly bout.

To’t we went, and when things waxed warmer ’twas agreed we should toast every man his fancy; only we should give the name. But when we came to drink, the wench would not keep to the bond like the rest of us, for all I was there. How, think you, I liked of that? ‘Wilt be mum?’ says one, and in jest, ‘Hast met a wolf?’ ‘O well said!’ cries she, and falls a—blushing like ﬁre; Lord! you might have lit a candle at her face. One Wolf there is, look you, master Wolf the son of neighbour Labas, one of your tall and sleek sort, in some folks’ eyes a proper man. ’Twas he she made so brave a show of pining for out o’ love. And I’d had wind o’t too, mind you, softly, somehow, and so-to-speak; but there! I never raised inquiry for all my beard’s so long.

Be that as it may, we four good men were well in, when he of Larissa, like the mischief he was, fell Rh