An outline of humor: Being a true chronicle from prehistoric ages to the twentieth century
History
An outline of humor: Being a true chronicle from prehistoric ages to the twentieth century
Wit and humor
_Pyrgopolinices._ Take care that the luster of my shield is more
bright than the rays of the sun when the sky is clear, that, when
occasion comes, the battle being joined, ’mid the fierce ranks right
opposite it may dazzle the eyesight of the enemy. But I must console
this saber of mine, that it may not lament nor be downcast in spirits,
because I have thus long been wearing it keeping holiday, though it so
dreadfully longs to make havoc of the enemy. But where is Artotrogus?
_Artotrogus._ Here he is; he stands close by the hero, valiant and
successful, and of princely form. Mars could not dare to style himself
so great a warrior, nor compare his prowess with yours.
_Pyrgopolinices._ Him you mean whom I spared on the Gorgonidonian
plains, where Bumbomachides Clytomestoridysarchides, the grandson of
Neptune, was the chief commander?
_Artotrogus._ I remember him; him, I suppose you mean, with the
golden armor, whose legions you puffed away with your breath, just as
the wind blows away leaves or the reed-thatched roof.
_Pyrgopolinices._ That, by my troth, was really nothing at all.
_Artotrogus._ Faith, that really was nothing at all in comparison
with other things I could mention (_aside_) which you never did.
If any person ever beheld a more perjured fellow than this, or one more
full in vain boasting, let him have me for himself: I’ll become his
slave.
_Pyrgopolinices._ What are you saying?
_Artotrogus._ Why, that I remember in what fashion you broke the
foreleg of an elephant, in India, with your fist.
_Pyrgopolinices._ How--the foreleg?
_Artotrogus._ I meant to say the thigh.
_Pyrgopolinices._ I struck the blow without an effort.
_Artotrogus._ Troth, if, indeed, you had put forth your strength,
your arm would have passed right through the hide, the entrails, and
the frontispiece of the elephant.
_Pyrgopolinices._ I don’t care to talk about these things just now.
_Artotrogus._ I’ faith, ’tis really not worth while for you to
tell me of it, who know your prowess well. (_Aside._) My appetite
creates all these tales. I must hear him right out with my ears, that
my teeth mayn’t have time to grow, and whatever lie he shall tell I
must agree to it.
_Pyrgopolinices._ What was it I was saying?
_Artotrogus._ Oh, I know what you were going to say just now. I’
faith ’twas bravely done; I remember its being done.
_Pyrgopolinices._ What was that?
_Artotrogus._ Whatever it was you were going to say.
_Pyrgopolinices._ Have you got your tablets?
_Artotrogus._ Are you intending to enlist some one? I have them,
and a pen as well.
_Pyrgopolinices._ How quickly you guess my thoughts!
_Artotrogus._ ’Tis fit that I should study your inclinations, so
that whatever you wish should first occur to me.
_Pyrgopolinices._ What do you remember?
_Artotrogus._ I do remember this: In Cilicia there were a hundred
and fifty men, a hundred in Cryphiolathronia, thirty at Sardis, sixty
men of Macedon, whom you slaughtered altogether in one day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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