Cynic
Oh, my lands, my lands!—Ah, my money, my money!— Farewell, my fine palace!—The thousands that fellow will have to squander!—Ah, my helpless children!—To think of the vines I planted last year! Who, ah who, will pluck the grapes?
Hermes
Why, Micyllus, have you never an Oh or an Ah? It is quite improper that any shade should cross the stream, and make no moan.
Micyllus
Get along with you. What have I to dowith Ohs and Ahs? I’m enjoying the trip!
Hermes
Still, just a groan or two. It’s expected.
Micyllus
Well, if I must, here goes.—Farewell, leather, farewell! Ah, Soles, old Soles!—Qh, ancient Boots!—Woe’s me! Never again shall I sit empty from morn till night; never again walk up and down, of a winter’s day, naked, unshod, with chattering teeth! My knife, my awl, will be another’s: whose, ah! whose?
Hermes
Yes, that will do. We are nearly there.
Cataplus. Lucian. Henry Watson Fowler (Translator), Francis George Fowler (Translator). Medford, MA, USA. 2023-08-01.
Sponsored by Tufts University.
Funding provided by National Endowment for the Humanities.