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What! you are so ignorant you don't understand the will of the gods  and you make a treaty, you, who are men, with apes, who are full of malice? Trygaeus
Ha, ha, ha! Hierocles
What are you laughing at? Trygaeus
Ha, ha! your apes amuse me! Hierocles
resuming the oracular manner.
You simple pigeons, you trust yourselves to foxes, who are all craft, both in mind and heart. Trygaeus
Oh, you trouble-maker! may your lungs get as hot as this meat! Hierocles
 Nay, nay! if only the Nymphs had not fooled Bacis, and Bacis mortal men; and if the Nymphs had not tricked Bacis a second time ... Trygaeus
mocking his manner.
May the plague seize you, if you don't stop Bacizing! Hierocles
. . . it would not have been written in the book of Fate that the bonds of Peace must be broken; but first ... Trygaeus
The meat must be dusted with salt. Hierocles
 . . . it does not please the blessed gods that we should stop the War until the wolf uniteth with the sheep. A kind of oracle-match now ensues.
How, you cursed animal, could the wolf ever unite with the sheep? Hierocles
As long as the wood-bug gives off a fetid odor, when it flies; as long as the noisy bitch is forced by nature to litter blind pups, so long shall peace be forbidden. Trygaeus
 Then what should be done? Not to stop War would be to leave it to the decision of chance which of the two people should suffer the most, whereas by uniting under a treaty, we share the empire of Greece. Hierocles
You will never make the crab walk straight. Trygaeus
You shall no longer be fed at the Prytaneum;  when the war is over oracles are not wanted. Hierocles
You will never smooth the rough spikes of the hedgehog. Trygaeus
Will you never stop fooling the Athenians? Hierocles
What oracle ordered you to burn these joints of mutton in honor of the gods? Trygaeus
This grand oracle of Homer's:  “Thus vanished the dark war-clouds and we offered a sacrifice to new-born Peace. When the flame had consumed the thighs of the victim and its inwards had appeased our hunger, we poured out the libations of wine.” 'Twas I who arranged the sacred rites, but none offered the shining cup to the diviner. Hierocles
 I care little for that. 'Tis not the Sibyl who spoke it. Trygaeus
Wise Homer has also said: “He who delights in the horrors of civil war has neither country nor laws nor home.” What noble words! Hierocles
Beware lest the  kite turn your brain and rob ... Trygaeus
to the Servant who has returned with the libations.
Look out, slave! This oracle threatens our meat. Quick, pour the libation, and give me some of the inwards. Hierocles
I too will help myself to a bit, if you like. Trygaeus
The libation! the libation!