Miles Gloriosus
Plautus, Titus Maccius
Plautus. The Comedies of Plautus, Volume 1. Riley, H. T., translator. London: G. Bell and Sons, Ltd., 1912.
- Take ye care that the lustre of my shield is more bright than the rays of the sun are wont to be at the time when the sky is clear; that when occasion comes, the battle being joined, ’mid the fierce ranks right opposite it may dazzle the eyesight of the enemy. But, I wish to console this sabre of mine, that it may not lament nor be downcast in spirits, because I have thus long been wearing it keeping holiday, which so longs right dreadfully to make havoc of the enemy. But where is Artotrogus?
- Here he is; he stands close by the hero, valiant and successful, and of princely form. Mars could not dare to style himself a warrior so great, nor compare his prowess with yours.
- Him you mean whom I spared on the Gorgonidonian [*](Gorgonidonian: These three crackjaw names are coined by Plautus much in the style of the names of the characters in Bombastes Furioso. They are mere gibberish, though the two latter are derived from Greek or Latin words; the first of which signifies a son of a fighter at the sound of the trumpet.) plains, where Bumbomachides Clytomestoridysarchides, the grandson of Neptune, was the chief commander?
- I remember him; him, I suppose, you mean with the golden armour, whose legions you puffed away with your breath just as the wind blows away leaves or the reed-thatched roof.
- That, on my troth, was really nothing at all.
- Faith, that really was nothing at all in comparison with other things I could mention—(aside) which you never did. If any person ever beheld a more perjured fellow than this, or one more full of vain boasting, faith let him have me for himself, I’ll resign myself for his slave; if ’tis not the fact that [*](’Tis not the fact that: This line is read in many different ways, and is evidently in a most corrupt state. Ritschel suggests, Unum epityrum apud illum estur insane bene, which we follow as nearly as is consistent with the English idiom.) my one mess of olive pottage[*](Mess of olive pottage:—Epityrumwas the name of a dish much used by the people of Sicily, who ate it together with cheese. We learn from Cato (on Rural Matters), that it was made of various kinds of olives minced up, and mixed with oil, vinegar coriander, cummin, fennel, rue, and mint, and then preserved in jars.) is eaten up by me right ravenously.
- Where are you?
- Lo! here am I. I’ troth in what a fashion it was you broke the fore-leg[*](The fore-leg: Brachium is supposed by some to mean the trunk of the elephant; but it seems more probable that it here means the fore-leg.) of even an elephant, in India, with your fist.
- How?—the fore-leg?
- I meant to say this—the thigh.