Trygaeus
Singing.
Yes, I am going. You hurt me too sorely, my daughters,
120
when you ask me for bread, calling me your daddy, and there is not the ghost of an obolus in the house; if I succeed and come back, you will have a barley loaf every morning —and a punch in the eye for sauce!
Little Daughter
But how will you make the journey?
125
There's no ship that will take you there.
Trygaeus
No, but this winged steed will.
Little Daughter
But what an idea, papa, to harness a beetle, to fly to the gods on.
Trygaeus
We see from Aesop's fables
130
that they alone can fly to the abode of the Immortals.
Little Daughter
Father, father, that's a tale nobody can believe! that such a smelly creature can have gone to the gods.
Trygaeus
It went to have vengeance on the eagle and break its eggs.
Little Daughter
135
Why not saddle Pegasus? you would have a more tragic appearance in the eyes of the gods.
Trygaeus
Eh! don't you see, little fool, that then twice the food would be wanted? Whereas my beetle devours again as filth what I have eaten myself.
Little Daughter
140
And if it fell into the watery depths of the sea, could it escape with its wings?
Trygaeus
Exposing himself.
I am fitted with a rudder in case of need, and my
Naxos
beetle will serve me as a boat.
Little Daughter
And what harbor will you put in at?
Trygaeus
145
Why, is there not the harbor of Cantharus at the
Piraeus
?
Little Daughter
Take care not to knock against anything and so fall off into space; once a cripple, you would be a fit subject for Euripides, who would put you into a tragedy.
Trygaeus
As the Machine hoists him higher.
I'll see to it. Good-bye!
To the Athenians.
150
You, for love of whom I brave these dangers, do ye neither fart nor crap for the space of three days, for, if, while cleaving the air, my steed should scent anything, he would fling me head foremost from the summit of my hopes.
Peace. Aristophanes. ed. Eugene O'Neill, Jr.. New York. 1938.
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