f(1) As a matter of fact, the Sicyonians, who celebrated the
festival of Peace on the sixteenth day of the month of
Hecatombeon (July), spilled no blood upon her altar.
SERVANT And why not?
TRYGAEUS Blood cannot please Peace, so let us spill none upon her altar. Therefore go and sacrifice the sheep in the house, cut off the legs and bring them here; thus the carcase will be saved for the choregus.
CHORUS You, who remain here, get chopped wood and everything needed for the sacrifice ready.
TRYGAEUS Don't I look like a diviner preparing his mystic fire?
CHORUS Undoubtedly. Will anything that it behooves a wise man to know escape you? Don't you know all that a man should know, who is distinguished for his wisdom and inventive daring?
TRYGAEUS There! the wood catches. Its smoke blinds poor Stilbides.(1) I am now going to bring the table and thus be my own slave.
f(1) A celebrated diviner, who had accompanied the Athenians
on their expedition to Sicily. Thus the War was necessary
to make his calling pay and the smoke of the sacrifice
offered to Peace must therefore be unpleasant to him.
CHORUS You have braved a thousand dangers to save your sacred town. All honour to you! your glory will be ever envied.
SERVANT Hold! Here are the legs, place them upon the altar. For myself, I mean to go back to the entrails and the cakes.