The Treasure | ||
SCENE IV.
STASIMUSalone.
He's gone.—D'ye hear, Lysiteles?—I want you.—
My master, he is gone too.—Stasimus, thou
Art left alone then.—What now shall I do?—
Why, strap my knapsack tight together, fit
My buckler to my back, order my shoes
52
That I must shortly be a soldier's skip:
My master for support will throw himself
Into the service of some prince or other.
Faith he will prove himself the best of warriors.—
In a retreat;—he'll fall an easy prey,
To any one who chances to oppose him.
For me,—when with a bow I'm strongly arm'd,
A quiver stuck with arrows, on my head
An helmet,—in the tent I'll sleep at ease.
Now will I to the Forum, and demand
53
That with me I may have something withal
To bear my travelling charges on the way.
[Exit.
The Treasure | ||