DICAEOPOLIS. How fat and well browned is the flesh of this wood-pigeon!
LAMACHUS. Bring me the case for my triple plume.
DICAEOPOLIS. Pass me over that dish of hare.
LAMACHUS. Oh! the moths have eaten the hair of my crest!
DICAEOPOLIS. I shall always eat hare before dinner.
LAMACHUS. Hi! friend! try not to scoff at my armour.
DICAEOPOLIS. Hi! friend! will you kindly not stare at my thrushes.
LAMACHUS. Hi! friend! will you kindly not address me.
DICAEOPOLIS. I do not address you; I am scolding my slave. Shall we wager and submit the matter to Lamachus, which of the two is the best to eat, a locust or a thrush?
LAMACHUS. Insolent hound!