DICAEOPOLIS. And you, slave, grip, grip well hold of the skewer. LAMACHUS. Slave, the bracings for my shield. DICAEOPOLIS. Pull the loaves out of the oven and bring me these bracings of my stomach. LAMACHUS. My round buckler with the Gorgon's head. DICAEOPOLIS. My round cheese-cake. LAMACHUS. What clumsy wit! DICAEOPOLIS. What delicious cheese-cake! LAMACHUS. Pour oil on the buckler. Hah! hah! I can see an old man who will be accused of cowardice. DICAEOPOLIS. Pour honey on the cake. Hah! hah! I can see an old man who makes Lamachus of the Gorgon's head weep with rage. LAMACHUS. Slave, full war armour. DICAEOPOLIS. Slave, my beaker; that is _my_ armour. LAMACHUS. With this I hold my ground with any foe. DICAEOPOLIS. And I with this with any tosspot. LAMACHUS. Fasten the strappings to the buckler; personally I shall carry the knapsack. DICAEOPOLIS. Pack the dinner well into the basket; personally I shall carry the cloak. LAMACHUS. Slave, take up the buckler and let's be off. It is snowing! Ah! 'tis a question of facing the winter. DICAEOPOLIS. Take up the basket, 'tis a question of getting to the feast. CHORUS. We wish you both joy on your journeys, which differ so much. One goes to mount guard and freeze, while the other will drink, crowned with flowers, and then sleep with a young beauty, who will rub his tool for him. I say it freely; may Zeus confound Antimachus, the poet-historian, the son of Psacas! When Choregus at the Lenaea, alas! alas! he dismissed me dinnerless. May I see him devouring with his eyes a cuttle-fish, just served, well cooked, hot and properly salted; and the moment that he stretches his hand to help himself, may a dog seize it and run off with it. Such is my first wish. I also hope for him a misfortune at night. That returning all-fevered from horse practice, he may meet an Orestes,[259] mad with drink, who breaks open his head; that wishing to seize a stone, he, in the dark, may pick up a fresh stool, hurl his missile, miss aim and hit Cratinus.[260] SLAVE OF LAMACHUS. Slaves of Lamachus! Water, water in a little pot! Make it warm, get ready cloths, cerate, greasy wool and bandages for his ankle. In leaping a ditch, the master has hurt himself against a stake; he has dislocated and twisted his ankle, broken his head by falling on a stone, while his Gorgon shot far away from his buckler. His mighty braggadocio plume rolled on the ground; at this sight he uttered these doleful words, "Radiant star, I gaze on thee for the last time; my eyes close to all light, I die." Having said this, he falls into the water, gets out again, meets some runaways and pursues the robbers with his spear at their backsides.[261] But here he comes, himself. Get the door open. LAMACHUS. Oh! heavens! oh! heavens! What cruel pain! I faint, I tremble! Alas! I die! the foe's lance has struck me! But what would hurt me most would be for Dicaeopolis to see me wounded thus and laugh at my ill-fortune.