152 ARISTOPHANES.

Poet. “T have brought an assortment of verses, —
some epic poems, songs for a chorus of girls, and a
trifle in Sirnonides’s manner.”

Plaus. “But when did you make all these?”

Poet. “Long have I named this city’s noble name.”

Plaus. “Well, that is odd, for I’ve only just given
it.”

Poet. “Faster than steed to the Muses’ court

Ever is carried the swift report.
But thou who hast founded this noble state

Haste to my needs to dedicate
Some kindly gift, be it small or great.”

Plaus. “This fellow will give us a lot of trouble
unless we get rid of him. You there (speaking to a
slave) — you have got a jerkin as well as a tunic.
Give him the jerkin. So clever a poet well deserves
it. There, poet, take the jerkin. You seem very cold.”

Poet. “My patron, thanks! The friendly Muse
This little boon will not refuse,
Yet hath another lay for thee,
A strain of Pindar’s minstrelsy.”

Plaus. “We are not going to get rid of him just
yet, I see.”

Poet. “Among the wandering tribes that stray
O’er Scythian plains he makes his way,
A bard ill-clad and all alone,
No woven garment doth he own;
Harken! my meaning canst thou guess,
He wears a jerkin tunic-less.”