TRYGAEUS. 'Tis now the time to sing as Datis did, as he masturbated himself at high noon, "Oh pleasure! oh enjoyment! oh delights!" 'Tis now, oh Greeks! the moment when freed of quarrels and fighting, we should rescue sweet Peace and draw her out of this pit, before some other pestle prevents us. Come, labourers, merchants, workmen, artisans, strangers, whether you be domiciled or not, islanders, come here, Greeks of all countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! 'Tis the moment to drain a cup in honour of the Good Genius. CHORUS. Come hither, all! quick, quick, hasten to the rescue! All peoples of Greece, now is the time or never, for you to help each other. You see yourselves freed from battles and all their horrors of bloodshed. The day, hateful to Lamachus,[283] has come. Come then, what must be done? Give your orders, direct us, for I swear to work this day without ceasing, until with the help of our levers and our engines we have drawn back into light the greatest of all goddesses, her to whom the olive is so dear. TRYGAEUS. Silence! if War should hear your shouts of joy he would bound forth from his retreat in fury. CHORUS. Such a decree overwhelms us with joy; how different to the edict, which bade us muster with provisions for three days.[284] TRYGAEUS. Let us beware lest the cursed Cerberus[285] prevent us even from the nethermost hell from delivering the goddess by his furious howling, just as he did when on earth. CHORUS. Once we have hold of her, none in the world will be able to take her from us. Huzza! huzza![286] TRYGAEUS. You will work my death if you don't subdue your shouts. War will come running out and trample everything beneath his feet. CHORUS. Well then! _Let_ him confound, let him trample, let him overturn everything! We cannot help giving vent to our joy. TRYGAEUS. Oh! cruel fate! My friends! in the name of the gods, what possesses you? Your dancing will wreck the success of a fine undertaking. CHORUS. 'Tis not I who want to dance; 'tis my legs that bound with delight. TRYGAEUS. Enough, an you love me, cease your gambols. CHORUS. There! Tis over. TRYGAEUS. You say so, and nevertheless you go on. CHORUS. Yet one more figure and 'tis done. TRYGAEUS. Well, just this one; then you must dance no more. CHORUS. No, no more dancing, if we can help you. TRYGAEUS. But look, you are not stopping even now. CHORUS. By Zeus, I am only throwing up my right leg, that's all. TRYGAEUS. Come, I grant you that, but pray, annoy me no further. CHORUS. Ah! the left leg too will have its fling; well, 'tis but its right. I am so happy, so delighted at not having to carry my buckler any more. I sing and I laugh more than if I had cast my old age, as a serpent does its skin.