A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

The Eleven Comedies

A >> Aristophanes et al >> The Eleven Comedies




TUMULT. Oh! how it stings! Master, have you got garlic in your fist, I
wonder?

WAR. Run and fetch me a pestle.

TUMULT. But we haven't got one; 'twas only yesterday we moved.

WAR. Go and fetch me one from Athens, and hurry, hurry!

TUMULT. Aye, I hasten there; if I return without one, I shall have no
cause for laughing. [_Exit._

TRYGAEUS. Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are? See
the danger that threatens if he returns with the pestle, for War will
quietly amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces.
Ah! Bacchus! cause this herald of evil to perish on his road!

WAR. Well!

TUMULT (_who has returned_). Well, what?

WAR. You have brought back nothing?

TUMULT. Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle--the tanner, who
ground Greece to powder.[280]

TRYGAEUS. Oh! Athené, venerable mistress! 'tis well for our city he is
dead, and before he could serve us with this hash.

WAR. Then go and seek one at Sparta and have done with it!

TUMULT. Aye, aye, master!

WAR. Be back as quick as ever you can.

TRYGAEUS (_to the audience_). What is going to happen, friends? 'Tis a
critical hour. Ah! if there is some initiate of Samothrace[281] among
you, 'tis surely the moment to wish this messenger some accident--some
sprain or strain.

TUMULT (_who returns_). Alas! alas! thrice again, alas!

WAR. What is it? Again you come back without it?

TUMULT. The Spartans too have lost their pestle.

WAR. How, varlet?

TUMULT. They had lent it to their allies in Thrace,[282] who have lost it
for them.

TRYGAEUS. Long life to you, Thracians! My hopes revive, pluck up courage,
mortals!

WAR. Take all this stuff away; I am going in to make a pestle for myself.

TRYGAEUS. 'Tis now the time to sing as Datis did, as he masturbated
himself at high noon, "Oh pleasure! oh enjoyment! oh delights!" 'Tis now,
oh Greeks! the moment when freed of quarrels and fighting, we should
rescue sweet Peace and draw her out of this pit, before some other pestle
prevents us. Come, labourers, merchants, workmen, artisans, strangers,
whether you be domiciled or not, islanders, come here, Greeks of all
countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! 'Tis the
moment to drain a cup in honour of the Good Genius.

CHORUS. Come hither, all! quick, quick, hasten to the rescue! All peoples
of Greece, now is the time or never, for you to help each other. You see
yourselves freed from battles and all their horrors of bloodshed. The
day, hateful to Lamachus,[283] has come. Come then, what must be done?
Give your orders, direct us, for I swear to work this day without
ceasing, until with the help of our levers and our engines we have drawn
back into light the greatest of all goddesses, her to whom the olive is
so dear.

TRYGAEUS. Silence! if War should hear your shouts of joy he would bound
forth from his retreat in fury.

CHORUS. Such a decree overwhelms us with joy; how different to the edict,
which bade us muster with provisions for three days.[284]


TRYGAEUS. Let us beware lest the cursed Cerberus[285] prevent us even
from the nethermost hell from delivering the goddess by his furious
howling, just as he did when on earth.

CHORUS. Once we have hold of her, none in the world will be able to take
her from us. Huzza! huzza![286]

TRYGAEUS. You will work my death if you don't subdue your shouts. War
will come running out and trample everything beneath his feet.

CHORUS. Well then! _Let_ him confound, let him trample, let him overturn
everything! We cannot help giving vent to our joy.

TRYGAEUS. Oh! cruel fate! My friends! in the name of the gods, what
possesses you? Your dancing will wreck the success of a fine undertaking.

CHORUS. 'Tis not I who want to dance; 'tis my legs that bound with
delight.

TRYGAEUS. Enough, an you love me, cease your gambols.

CHORUS. There! Tis over.

TRYGAEUS. You say so, and nevertheless you go on.

CHORUS. Yet one more figure and 'tis done.

TRYGAEUS. Well, just this one; then you must dance no more.

CHORUS. No, no more dancing, if we can help you.

TRYGAEUS. But look, you are not stopping even now.

CHORUS. By Zeus, I am only throwing up my right leg, that's all.

TRYGAEUS. Come, I grant you that, but pray, annoy me no further.

CHORUS. Ah! the left leg too will have its fling; well, 'tis but its
right. I am so happy, so delighted at not having to carry my buckler any
more. I sing and I laugh more than if I had cast my old age, as a serpent
does its skin.

TRYGAEUS. No, 'tis no time for joy yet, for you are not sure of success.
But when you have got the goddess, then rejoice, shout and laugh;
thenceforward you will be able to sail or stay at home, to make love or
sleep, to attend festivals and processions, to play at cottabos,[287]
live like true Sybarites and to shout, Io, io!

CHORUS. Ah! God grant we may see the blessed day. I have suffered so
much; have so oft slept with Phormio[288] on hard beds. You will no
longer find me an acid, angry, hard judge as heretofore, but will find me
turned indulgent and grown younger by twenty years through happiness. We
have been killing ourselves long enough, tiring ourselves out with going
to the Lyceum[289] and returning laden with spear and buckler.--But what
can we do to please you? Come, speak; for 'tis a good Fate, that has
named you our leader.

TRYGAEUS. How shall we set about removing these stones?

HERMES. Rash reprobate, what do you propose doing?

TRYGAEUS. Nothing bad, as Cillicon said.[290]


HERMES. You are undone, you wretch.

TRYGAEUS. Yes, if the lot had to decide my life, for Hermes would know
how to turn the chance.[291]

HERMES. You are lost, you are dead.

TRYGAEUS. On what day?

HERMES. This instant.

TRYGAEUS. But I have not provided myself with flour and cheese yet[292]
to start for death.

HERMES. You _are_ kneaded and ground already, I tell you.[293]

TRYGAEUS. Hah! I have not yet tasted that gentle pleasure.

HERMES. Don't you know that Zeus has decreed death for him who is
surprised exhuming Peace?

TRYGAEUS. What! must I really and truly die?

HERMES. You must.

TRYGAEUS. Well then, lend me three drachmae to buy a young pig; I wish to
have myself initiated before I die.[294]

HERMES. Oh! Zeus, the Thunderer![295]

TRYGAEUS. I adjure you in the name of the gods, master, don't denounce
us!

HERMES. I may not, I cannot keep silent.

TRYGAEUS. In the name of the meats which I brought you so good-naturedly.

HERMES. Why, wretched man, Zeus will annihilate me, if I do not shout out
at the top of my voice, to inform him what you are plotting.

TRYGAEUS. Oh, no! don't shout, I beg you, dear little Hermes.... And what
are you doing, comrades? You stand there as though you were stocks and
stones. Wretched men, speak, entreat him at once; otherwise he will be
shouting.

CHORUS. Oh! mighty Hermes! don't do it; no, don't do it! If ever you have
eaten some young pig, sacrificed by us on your altars, with pleasure, may
this offering not be without value in your sight to-day.

TRYGAEUS. Do you not hear them wheedling you, mighty god?

CHORUS. Be not pitiless toward our prayers; permit us to deliver the
goddess. Oh! the most human, the most generous of the gods, be favourable
toward us, if it be true that you detest the haughty crests and proud
brows of Pisander;[296] we shall never cease, oh master, offering you
sacred victims and solemn prayers.

TRYGAEUS. Have mercy, mercy, let yourself be touched by their words;
never was your worship so dear to them as to-day.

HERMES. I' truth, never have you been greater thieves.[297]

TRYGAEUS. I will reveal a great, a terrible conspiracy against the gods
to you.

HERMES. Hah! speak and perchance I shall let myself be softened.

TRYGAEUS. Know then, that the Moon and that infamous Sun are plotting
against you, and want to deliver Greece into the hands of the Barbarians.

HERMES. What for?

TRYGAEUS. Because it is to you that we sacrifice, whereas the barbarians
worship them; hence they would like to see you destroyed, that they alone
might receive the offerings.

HERMES. 'Tis then for this reason that these untrustworthy charioteers
have for so long been defrauding us, one of them robbing us of daylight
and the other nibbling away at the other's disk.[298]

TRYGAEUS. Yes, certainly. So therefore, Hermes, my friend, help us with
your whole heart to find and deliver the captive and we will celebrate
the great Panathenaea[299] in your honour as well as all the festivals of
the other gods; for Hermes shall be the Mysteries, the Dipolia, the
Adonia; everywhere the towns, freed from their miseries, will sacrifice
to Hermes, the Liberator; you will be loaded with benefits of every kind,
and to start with, I offer you this cup for libations as your first
present.

HERMES. Ah! how golden cups do influence me! Come, friends, get to work.
To the pit quickly, pick in hand and drag away the stones.

CHORUS. We go, but you, the cleverest of all the gods, supervise our
labours; tell us, good workman as you are, what we must do; we shall obey
your orders with alacrity.

TRYGAEUS. Quick, reach me your cup, and let us preface our work by
addressing prayers to the gods.

HERMES. Oh! sacred, sacred libations! Keep silence, oh! ye people! keep
silence!

TRYGAEUS. Let us offer our libations and our prayers, so that this day
may begin an era of unalloyed happiness for Greece and that he who has
bravely pulled at the rope with us may never resume his buckler.

CHORUS. Aye, may we pass our lives in peace, caressing our mistresses and
poking the fire.

TRYGAEUS. May he who would prefer the war, oh Dionysus, be ever drawing
barbed arrows out of his elbows.

CHORUS. If there be a citizen, greedy for military rank and honours, who
refuses, oh, divine Peace! to restore you to daylight, may he behave as
cowardly as Cleonymus on the battlefield.

TRYGAEUS. If a lance-maker or a dealer in shields desires war for the
sake of better trade, may he be taken by pirates and eat nothing but
barley.

CHORUS. If some ambitious man does not help us, because he wants to
become a General, or if a slave is plotting to pass over to the enemy,
let his limbs be broken on the wheel, may he be beaten to death with
rods! As for us, may Fortune favour us! Io! Paean, Io!

TRYGAEUS. Don't say Paean,[300] but simply, Io.

CHORUS. Very well, then! Io! Io! I'll simply say, Io!

TRYGAEUS. To Hermes, the Graces, Hora, Aphrodité, Eros!

CHORUS. And not to Ares?

TRYGAEUS. No.

CHORUS. Nor doubtless to Enyalius?

TRYGAEUS. No.

CHORUS. Come, all strain at the ropes to tear away the stones. Pull!

HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!

CHORUS. Come, pull harder, harder.

HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!

CHORUS. Still harder, harder still.

HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave, heave, oh!

TRYGAEUS. Come, come, there is no working together. Come! all pull at the
same instant! you Boeotians are only pretending. Beware!

HERMES. Come, heave away, heave!

CHORUS. Hi! you two pull as well.

TRYGAEUS. Why, I am pulling, I am hanging on to the rope and straining
till I am almost off my feet; I am working with all my might.

HERMES. Why does not the work advance then?

TRYGAEUS. Lamachus, this is too bad! You are in the way, sitting there.
We have no use for your Medusa's head, friend.[301]

HERMES. But hold, the Argives have not pulled the least bit; they have
done nothing but laugh at us for our pains while they were getting gain
with both hands.[302]

TRYGAEUS. Ah! my dear sir, the Laconians at all events pull with vigour.

CHORUS. But look! only those among them who generally hold the
plough-tail show any zeal,[303] while the armourers impede them in their
efforts.

HERMES. And the Megarians too are doing nothing, yet look how they are
pulling and showing their teeth like famished curs; the poor wretches are
dying of hunger![304]

TRYGAEUS. This won't do, friends. Come! all together! Everyone to the
work and with a good heart for the business.

HERMES. Heave away, heave!

TRYGAEUS. Harder!

HERMES. Heave away, heave!

TRYGAEUS. Come on then, by heaven.

HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave!

CHORUS. This will never do.

TRYGAEUS. Is it not a shame? some pull one way and others another. You,
Argives there, beware of a thrashing!

HERMES. Come, put your strength into it.

TRYGAEUS. Heave away, heave!

CHORUS. There are many ill-disposed folk among us.

TRYGAEUS. Do you at least, who long for peace, pull heartily.

CHORUS. But there are some who prevent us.

HERMES. Off to the Devil with you, Megarians! The goddess hates you. She
recollects that you were the first to rub her the wrong way. Athenians,
you are not well placed for pulling. There you are too busy with
law-suits; if you really want to free the goddess, get down a little
towards the sea.[305]

CHORUS. Come, friends, none but husbandmen on the rope.

HERMES. Ah! that will do ever so much better.

CHORUS. He says the thing is going well. Come, all of you, together and
with a will.

TRYGAEUS. 'Tis the husbandmen who are doing all the work.

CHORUS. Come then, come, and all together! Hah! hah! at last there is
some unanimity in the work. Don't let us give up, let us redouble our
efforts. There! now we have it! Come then, all together! Heave away,
heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave
away, heave! All together! (_Peace is drawn out of the pit._)

TRYGAEUS. Oh! venerated goddess, who givest us our grapes, where am I to
find the ten-thousand-gallon words[306] wherewith to greet thee? I have
none such at home. Oh! hail to thee, Opora,[307] and thou, Theoria![308]
How beautiful is thy face! How sweet thy breath! What gentle fragrance
comes from thy bosom, gentle as freedom from military duty, as the most
dainty perfumes!

HERMES. Is it then a smell like a soldier's knapsack?

CHORUS. Oh! hateful soldier! your hideous satchel makes me sick! it
stinks like the belching of onions, whereas this lovable deity has the
odour of sweet fruits, of festivals, of the Dionysia, of the harmony of
flutes, of the comic poets, of the verses of Sophocles, of the phrases of
Euripides...

TRYGAEUS. That's a foul calumny, you wretch! She detests that framer of
subtleties and quibbles.

CHORUS. ... of ivy, of straining-bags for wine, of bleating ewes, of
provision-laden women hastening to the kitchen, of the tipsy servant
wench, of the upturned wine-jar, and of a whole heap of other good
things.

HERMES. Then look how the reconciled towns chat pleasantly together, how
they laugh; and yet they are all cruelly mishandled; their wounds are
bleeding still.

TRYGAEUS. But let us also scan the mien of the spectators; we shall thus
find out the trade of each.

HERMES. Ah! good gods! look at that poor crest-maker, tearing at his
hair,[309] and at that pike-maker, who has just broken wind in yon
sword-cutler's face.

TRYGAEUS. And do you see with what pleasure this sickle-maker is making
long noses at the spear-maker?

HERMES. Now ask the husbandmen to be off.

TRYGAEUS. Listen, good folk! Let the husbandmen take their farming tools
and return to their fields as quick as possible, but without either
sword, spear or javelin. All is as quiet as if Peace had been reigning
for a century. Come, let everyone go till the earth, singing the Paean.

CHORUS. Oh, thou, whom men of standing desired and who art good to
husbandmen, I have gazed upon thee with delight; and now I go to greet my
vines, to caress after so long an absence the fig trees I planted in my
youth.

TRYGAEUS. Friends, let us first adore the goddess, who has delivered us
from crests and Gorgons;[310] then let us hurry to our farms, having
first bought a nice little piece of salt fish to eat in the fields.

HERMES. By Posidon! what a fine crew they make and dense as the crust of
a cake; they are as nimble as guests on their way to a feast.

TRYGAEUS. See, how their iron spades glitter and how beautifully their
three-pronged mattocks glisten in the sun! How regularly they will align
the plants! I also burn myself to go into the country and to turn over
the earth I have so long neglected.--Friends, do you remember the happy
life that peace afforded us formerly; can you recall the splendid baskets
of figs, both fresh and dried, the myrtles, the sweet wine, the violets
blooming near the spring, and the olives, for which we have wept so much?
Worship, adore the goddess for restoring you so many blessings.

CHORUS. Hail! hail! thou beloved divinity! thy return overwhelms us with
joy. When far from thee, my ardent wish to see my fields again made me
pine with regret. From thee came all blessings. Oh! much desired Peace!
thou art the sole support of those who spend their lives tilling the
earth. Under thy rule we had a thousand delicious enjoyments at our beck;
thou wert the husbandman's wheaten cake and his safeguard. So that our
vineyards, our young fig-tree woods and all our plantations hail thee
with delight and smile at thy coming. But where was she then, I wonder,
all the long time she spent away from us? Hermes, thou benevolent god,
tell us!

HERMES. Wise husbandmen, hearken to my words, if you want to know why she
was lost to you. The start of our misfortunes was the exile of
Phidias;[311] Pericles feared he might share his ill-luck, he mistrusted
your peevish nature and, to prevent all danger to himself, he threw out
that little spark, the Megarian decree,[312] set the city aflame, and
blew up the conflagration with a hurricane of war, so that the smoke drew
tears from all Greeks both here and over there. At the very outset of
this fire our vines were a-crackle, our casks knocked together;[313] it
was beyond the power of any man to stop the disaster, and Peace
disappeared.

TRYGAEUS. That, by Apollo! is what no one ever told me; I could not think
what connection there could be between Phidias and Peace.

CHORUS. Nor I; I know it now. This accounts for her beauty, if she is
related to him. There are so many things that escape us.

HERMES. Then, when the towns subject to you saw that you were angered one
against the other and were showing each other your teeth like dogs, they
hatched a thousand plots to pay you no more dues and gained over the
chief citizens of Sparta at the price of gold. They, being as shamelessly
greedy as they were faithless in diplomacy, chased off Peace with
ignominy to let loose War. Though this was profitable to them, 'twas the
ruin of the husbandmen, who were innocent of all blame; for, in revenge,
your galleys went out to devour their figs.

TRYGAEUS. And 'twas with justice too; did they not break down my black
fig tree, which I had planted and dunged with my own hands?

CHORUS. Yes, by Zeus! yes, 'twas well done; the wretches broke a chest
for me with stones, which held six medimni of corn.

HERMES. Then the rural labourers flocked into the city[314] and let
themselves be bought over like the others. Not having even a grape-stone
to munch and longing after their figs, they looked towards the
orators.[315] These well knew that the poor were driven to extremity and
lacked even bread; but they nevertheless drove away the Goddess each time
she reappeared in answer to the wish of the country with their loud
shrieks, that were as sharp as pitchforks; furthermore, they attacked the
well-filled purses of the richest among our allies on the pretence that
they belonged to Brasidas' party.[316] And then you would tear the poor
accused wretch to pieces with your teeth; for the city, all pale with
hunger and cowed with terror, gladly snapped up any calumny that was
thrown it to devour. So the strangers, seeing what terrible blows the
informers dealt, sealed their lips with gold. They grew rich, while you,
alas! you could only see that Greece was going to ruin. 'Twas the tanner
who was the author of all this woe.[317]

TRYGAEUS. Enough said, Hermes, leave that man in Hades, whither he has
gone; he no longer belongs to us, but rather to yourself.[318] That he
was a cheat, a braggart, a calumniator when alive, why, nothing could be
truer; but anything you might say now would be an insult to one of your
own folk. Oh! venerated Goddess! why art thou silent?

HERMES. And how could she speak to the spectators? She is too angry at
all that they have made her suffer.

TRYGAEUS. At least let her speak a little to you, Hermes.

HERMES. Tell me, my dear, what are your feelings with regard to them?
Come, you relentless foe of all bucklers, speak; I am listening to you.
(_Peace whispers into Hermes' ear._) Is that your grievance against them?
Yes, yes, I understand. Hearken, you folk, this is her complaint. She
says, that after the affair of Pylos[319] she came to you unbidden to
bring you a basket full of truces and that you thrice repulsed her by
your votes in the assembly.

TRYGAEUS. Yes, we did wrong, but forgive us, for our mind was then
entirely absorbed in leather.[320]

HERMES. Listen again to what she has just asked me. Who was her greatest
foe here? and furthermore, had she a friend who exerted himself to put an
end to the fighting?

TRYGAEUS. Her most devoted friend was Cleonymus; it is undisputed.

HERMES. How then did Cleonymus behave in fights?

TRYGAEUS. Oh! the bravest of warriors! Only he was not born of the father
he claims; he showed it quick enough in the army by throwing away his
weapons.[321]

HERMES. There is yet another question she has just put to me. Who rules
now in the rostrum?

TRYGAEUS. 'Tis Hyperbolus, who now holds empire on the Pnyx. (_To
Peace._) What now? you turn away your head!

HERMES. She is vexed, that the people should give themselves a wretch of
that kind for their chief.

TRYGAEUS Oh! we shall not employ him again; but the people, seeing
themselves without a leader, took him haphazard, just as a man, who is
naked, springs upon the first cloak he sees.

HERMES. She asks, what will be the result of such a choice of the city?

TRYGAEUS. We shall be more far-seeing in consequence.

HERMES. And why?

TRYGAEUS. Because he is a lamp-maker. Formerly we only directed our
business by groping in the dark; now we shall only deliberate by
lamplight.

HERMES. Oh! oh! what questions she does order me to put to you!

TRYGAEUS. What are they?

HERMES. She wants to have news of a whole heap of old-fashioned things
she left here. First of all, how is Sophocles?

TRYGAEUS. Very well; but something very strange has happened to him.

HERMES. What then?

TRYGAEUS. He has turned from Sophocles into Simonides.[322]

HERMES. Into Simonides? How so?

TRYGAEUS. Because, though old and broken-down as he is, he would put to
sea on a hurdle to gain an obolus.[323]

HERMES. And wise Cratinus, is he still alive?[324]

TRYGAEUS. He died about the time of the Laconian invasion.

HERMES. How?

TRYGAEUS. Of a swoon. He could not bear the shock of seeing one of his
casks full of wine broken. Ah! what a number of other misfortunes our
city has suffered! So, dearest mistress, nothing can now separate us from
thee.

HERMES. If that be so, receive Opora here for a wife; take her to the
country, live with her, and grow fine grapes together.[325]

TRYGAEUS. Come, my dear friend, come and accept my kisses. Tell me,
Hermes, my master, do you think it would hurt me to fuck her a little,
after so long an abstinence?

HERMES. No, not if you swallow a potion of penny-royal afterwards.[326]
But hasten to lead Theoria[327] to the Senate; 'twas there she lodged
before.

TRYGAEUS. Oh! fortunate Senate! Thanks to Theoria, what soups you will
swallow for the space of three days![328] how you will devour meats and
cooked tripe! Come, farewell, friend Hermes!

HERMES. And to you also, my dear sir, may you have much happiness, and
don't forget me.

TRYGAEUS. Come, beetle, home, home, and let us fly on a swift wing.

HERMES. Oh! he is no longer here.

TRYGAEUS. Where has he gone to then?

HERMES. He is harnessed to the chariot of Zeus and bears the
thunderbolts.

TRYGAEUS. But where will the poor wretch get his food?

HERMES. He will eat Ganymede's ambrosia.

TRYGAEUS. Very well then, but how am I going to descend?

HERMES. Oh! never fear, there is nothing simpler; place yourself beside
the goddess.

TRYGAEUS. Come, my pretty maidens, follow me quickly; there are plenty of
folk awaiting you with standing tools.

CHORUS. Farewell and good luck be yours! Let us begin by handing over all
this gear to the care of our servants, for no place is less safe than a
theatre; there is always a crowd of thieves prowling around it, seeking
to find some mischief to do. Come, keep a good watch over all this. As
for ourselves, let us explain to the spectators what we have in our
minds, the purpose of our play.

Undoubtedly the comic poet who mounted the stage to praise himself in the
parabasis would deserve to be handed over to the sticks of the beadles.
Nevertheless, oh Muse, if it be right to esteem the most honest and
illustrious of our comic writers at his proper value, permit our poet to
say that he thinks he has deserved a glorious renown. First of all, 'tis
he who has compelled his rivals no longer to scoff at rags or to war with
lice; and as for those Heracles, always chewing and ever hungry, those
poltroons and cheats who allow themselves to be beaten at will, he was
the first to cover them with ridicule and to chase them from the
stage;[329] he has also dismissed that slave, whom one never failed to
set a-weeping before you, so that his comrade might have the chance of
jeering at his stripes and might ask, "Wretch, what has happened to your
hide? Has the lash rained an army of its thongs on you and laid your back
waste?" After having delivered us from all these wearisome ineptitudes
and these low buffooneries, he has built up for us a great art, like a
palace with high towers, constructed of fine phrases, great thoughts and
of jokes not common on the streets. Moreover 'tis not obscure private
persons or women that he stages in his comedies; but, bold as Heracles,
'tis the very greatest whom he attacks, undeterred by the fetid stink of
leather or the threats of hearts of mud. He has the right to say, "I am
the first ever dared to go straight for that beast with the sharp teeth
and the terrible eyes that flashed lambent fire like those of Cynna,[330]
surrounded by a hundred lewd flatterers, who spittle-licked him to his
heart's content; it had a voice like a roaring torrent, the stench of a
seal, a foul Lamia's testicles and the rump of a camel."[331]

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.