Dicaeopolis: For you also were inscribing a large Gorgon.
1095
Dikaiopolis: shut the door, and let someone prepare dinner.
Lamachus: Boy, boy, bring the cooking-pot here to me.
Dicaeopolis: Boy, boy, bring the box out here to me.
Lamachus: Child, bring some salt and garlic and onions.
Dicaeopolis: But I want pieces; for I am annoyed by onions.
1100
Lamachos: bring hither the jar of pickled fish, boy, of the rotten sort.
Dikaiopolis: And you are a public nuisance to me too. I will see to it right away.
Lamachus: Bring here the two wings of the helmet.
Dicaeopolis: But bring me the troughs, indeed, and the finches.
Lamachus: It is indeed a beautiful and white wing of a sparrow.
1105
Dikaiopolis: The meat of the trough is indeed good and yellowish.
Lamachus: O man, stop laughing at my weapons.
Dikaiopolis: Oh man, do you want not to look at the thrushes?
Lamachus: take out the plume from the three hills.
Dicaeopolis: And give me a small dish of hare meat as well.
1110
Lamachos: But perhaps they have eaten the crests, which are hairy.
Dikaiopolis: But shall I eat the marmarke before dinner?
Lamachus: Do you wish not to address me, man?
Dikaiopolis: No, but I and the boy have been quarreling for a long time.
Dikaiopolis: Do you want to be handed over and entrusted to Lamachus?
1115
Dicaeopolis: Is it more pleasant to be locusts or thrushes?
Lamachus: Alas, how you are treating me with insolence!
Dikaiopolis: He judges the locusts very carefully.
Lamachus: Boy, boy, having drawn down my spear, bring it out here.
Dikaiopolis: boy, boy, you, having taken it, bring the string here.
Lamachus: Come, let me pull the spear-shield off.
1120
Lamachus: Hold on, hold fast, child.
Dikaiopolis: And you, child, hold fast to this one.
Lamachos: Take the kilibans, child of the shield.
Dikaiopolis: and bring out the loaves of my bread.
Lamachus: Bring here the swift-gorged shield's rim.
Dikaiopolis: And give me, for my part, a round cake with cheese.
1125
Lamachus: Is this not ridiculous for men to be broad?
Dikaiopolis: Surely this is not a sweet cake for people?
Lamachos: Pour water on the boy's ear. In the bronze workshop.
Lamachos: I see an old man fleeing from cowardice.
Dikaiopolis: pour out the honey for yourself. And here, an old man is plainly visible.
1130
Dicaeopolis: ordering Lamachus, the son of Gorgias, to weep.
Lamachus: Bring here, boy, a warrior's breastplate.
Dicaeopolis: Take off the breastplate for me too, boy, and also the helmet.
Lamachus: In this matter I will arm myself against the enemy.
Dikaiopolis: In this matter I will arm myself against my drinking companions.
1135
Lamachus: Bind the bedding, boy, from the shield.
Dikaiopolis: Tie up the dinner, boy, from the basket.
Lamachus: And I will carry off the thigh for myself, having taken it.
Dikaiopolis: But I, taking my little cloak, go out.
Lamachus: Take up the shield and go, boy, having taken it.
1140
Lamachus: It's snowing. Good grief; winter is upon us.
Dikaiopolis: Lift the dinner; the matters are festive.
Acharnians. Aristophanes. . 2026-09-08.