University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter LYCUS.
LYCUS.
If ever pandar, shall from this day forth,
Offer at Venus' shrine one single sacrifice,
Or e'en of frankincense one single grain,
Him may the gods render unfortunate!
For wretched I, with whom the deities
I worship, are in wrath, have sacrific'd
To-day six lambs; and yet have not been able
To make this Venus to my vows propitious.
Since I could not appease her, off I went,
And in a rage forbad them cut the entrails;
Nor would I look at them—I did believe
The goddess undeserving, when the priest
Pronounc'd the entrails inauspicious:
Wherefore I chous'd the niggard deity;
And made a feint. When that which was enough,
She would not deem enough, I held my hand:
'Tis thus I act, and thus I ought to act.
I will engage the other gods and goddesses
Will sooner be contented, and less greedy,
When they shall know the pandar chous'd their Venus.
The soothsayer, a good for nothing chap,
Mischief and loss, and angry gods denounc'd.
How can I credit such a man as this,
In ought divine or human; when immediately
I had a present of a silver mina?
But where I wonder has this captain stopp'd,
Who gave it me? and whom I've ask'd to dinner.
Oh! here he comes—

Enter ANTHEMONIDES.
Ant.
As I was telling you,
You rogue, of that same pentethronic fight;
When in one day full sixty thousand men,
Ay, flying men, with my own hands I kill'd—

Lyc.
How! flying men!

Ant.
Yes, I affirm it, Sir.

Lyc.
Are there, I pray, such things as flying men?

Ant.
There were; but I have kill'd them all.

Lyc.
And how?

Ant.
I'll tell you—I deliver'd to the legions
Birdlime and slings; and on each sling they laid
Some leaves of coltsfoot.

Lyc.
Why?

Ant.
O, to prevent
The birdlime's sticking to the slings.

Lyc.
Proceed.
You lye with a good grace, by Hercules!
[aside.]
What then?

Ant.
Some birdlime-balls of moderate size,
They put into their slings; then I gave order,
They on the flying men should be discharg'd.
In short, whome'er the birdlime hit, they fell
As thick as pears; and as each dropp'd, I strait
One of his feathers run quite through his brain,
And kill'd him, just as you would kill a pigeon.

Lyc.
If ever such a thing was done, may Jupiter
Whene'er I sacrifice, ne'er grant my prayers.

Ant.
Don't you believe me then?

Lyc.
Yes, I believe—
Just as I should believe. Come, let's go in,
And wait until the entrails are brought home.

Ant.
I long to tell you of another battle.

Lyc.
I mind not battles.

Ant.
Hear—

Lyc.
By Hercules!

Ant.
I'll break your head, unless you either hear,
Or else go hang—

Lyc.
Rather go hang myself—

Ant.
And you're determin'd not to hear me then?

Lyc.
Determin'd—

Ant.
Prithee, on this lucky day
Of Venus' feast, secure me your least girl.

Lyc.
My holy matters take so odd a turn,
I put off business to another time,
For I'm resolv'd to make it holyday.
Come, let's go in—Follow me this way.

Ant.
Yes.
This day I follow you: my pay—the girl—

[Exeunt.