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A HUSBANDMAN
Ah! woe is me! DICAEOPOLIS
Heracles! What have we here? HUSBANDMAN
A most miserable man. DICAEOPOLIS
Keep your misery for yourself. HUSBANDMAN
Ah! friend! since you alone are enjoying peace, grant me a part of your truce, were it but five years. DICAEOPOLIS
What has happened to you? HUSBANDMAN
I am ruined; I have lost a pair of steers. DICAEOPOLIS
How? HUSBANDMAN
The Boeotians seized them at Phyle.1 DICAEOPOLIS
Ah! poor wretch! and yet you have not left off white? HUSBANDMAN
Their dung made my wealth. DICAEOPOLIS
What can I do in the matter? HUSBANDMAN
Crying for my beasts has lost me my eyesight. Ah! if you care for poor Dercetes of Phyle, anoint mine eyes quickly with your balm of peace. DICAEOPOLIS
But, my poor fellow, I do not practise medicine. HUSBANDMAN
Come, I adjure you; perhaps I shall recover my steers. DICAEOPOLIS
'Tis impossible; away, go and whine to the disciples of Pittalus.2 HUSBANDMAN
Grant me but one drop of peace; pour it into this reedlet. DICAEOPOLIS
No, not a particle; go a-weeping elsewhere. HUSBANDMAN
Oh! oh! oh! my poor beasts!
Aristophanes. Acharnians. The Eleven Comedies. Anonymous. New York. Liveright. 192?.