Theocritus Part 11

Well, yesterday (that means what day you like) 'Papa' had rouge and hair-powder to buy; He brought back salt! this oaf of six-foot-one!

GORGO.

Just such another is that pickpocket My Diocleides. He bought t'other day Six fleeces at seven drachms, his last exploit.

What were they? sc.r.a.ps of worn-out pedlar's-bags, Sheer trash.--But put your cloak and mantle on; And we'll to Ptolemy's, the sumptuous king, To see the _Adonis_. As I hear, the queen Provides us something gorgeous.

PRAXINOa.

Ay, the grand Can do things grandly.

GORGO.

When you've seen yourself, What tales you'll have to tell to those who've not.

'Twere time we started!

PRAXINOa.

All time's holiday With idlers! Eunoa, pampered minx, the jug!

Set it down here--you cats would sleep all day On cus.h.i.+ons--Stir yourself, fetch water, quick!

Water's our first want. How she holds the jug!

Now, pour--not, cormorant, in that wasteful way-- You've drenched my dress, bad luck t'you! There, enough: I have made such toilet as my fates allowed.

Now for the key o' the plate-chest. Bring it, quick!

GORGO.

My dear, that full pelisse becomes you well.

What did it stand you in, straight off the loom?

PRAXINOa.

Don't ask me, Gorgo: two good pounds and more.

Then I gave all my mind to tr.i.m.m.i.n.g it.

GORGO.

Well, 'tis a great success.

PRAXINOa.

I think it is.

My mantle, Eunoa, and my parasol!

Arrange me nicely. Babe, you'll bide at home!

Horses would bite you--Boo!--Yes, cry your fill, But we won't have you maimed. Now let's be off.

You, Phrygia, take and nurse the tiny thing: Call the dog in: make fast the outer door!

[_Exeunt_.

G.o.ds! what a crowd! How, when shall we get past This nuisance, these unending ant-like swarms?

Yet, Ptolemy, we owe thee thanks for much Since heaven received thy sire! No miscreant now Creeps Thug-like up, to maul the pa.s.ser-by.

What games men played erewhile--men shaped in crime, Birds of a feather, rascals every one!

--We're done for, Gorgo darling--here they are, The Royal horse! Sweet sir, don't trample me!

That bay--the savage!--reared up straight on end!

Fly, Eunoa, can't you? Doggedly she stands.

He'll be his rider's death!--How glad I am My babe's at home.

GORGO.

Praxinoa, never mind!

See, we're before them now, and they're in line.

PRAXINOa.

There, I'm myself. But from a child I feared Horses, and slimy snakes. But haste we on: A surging mult.i.tude is close behind.

GORGO [_to Old Lady_].

From the palace, mother?

OLD LADY.

Ay, child.

GORGO.

Is it fair Of access?

OLD LADY.

Trying brought the Greeks to Troy.

Young ladies, they must try who would succeed.

GORGO.

The crone hath said her oracle and gone.

Women know all--how Adam married Eve.

--Praxinoa, look what crowds are round the door!

PRAXINOa.

Fearful! Your hand, please, Gorgo. Eunoa, you Hold Eutychis--hold tight or you'll be lost.

We'll enter in a body--hold us fast!

Oh dear, my muslin dress is torn in two, Gorgo, already! Pray, good gentleman, (And happiness be yours) respect my robe!

STRANGER.

I could not if I would--nathless I will.

PRAXINOa.

They come in hundreds, and they push like swine.

STRANGER.

Lady, take courage: it is all well now.

PRAXINOa.

And now and ever be it well with thee, Sweet man, for s.h.i.+elding us! An honest soul And kindly. Oh! they're smothering Eunoa: Push, coward! That's right! 'All in,' the bridegroom said And locked the door upon himself and bride.

GORGO.

Praxinoa, look! Note well this broidery first.

How exquisitely fine--too good for earth!

Empress Athene, what strange sempstress wrought Such work? What painter painted, realized Such pictures? Just like life they stand or move, Facts and not fancies! What a thing is man!

How bright, how lifelike on his silvern couch Lies, with youth's bloom scarce shadowing his cheek, That dear Adonis, lovely e'en in death!

A STRANGER.

Bad luck t'you, cease your senseless pigeon's prate!

Their brogue is killing--every word a drawl!