A. Do you prefer your high made dishes hot,
Or cold, or something just between the two?
B. Cold.
A. Are you sure, my master? only think;
The man has not one notion how to live?
Am I to serve you everything up cold?
B. By no means.
A. Will you, then, have all things hot?
B. O Phoebus!
A. Then, if neither hot nor cold,
They surely must be just between the two;
And none of all my fellows can do this.
B. I dare say not, nor many other things
Which you can do.
A. I'll tell you now, for I
Give all the guests an opportunity
To practise a wise mixture of their food.
Have you not, I adjure you by the gods,
Just slain a kid?
B. Don't cut me, cut the meat:—
Boys, bring the kid.
A. Is there a kitchen near?
B. There is.
A. And has it got a chimney too?
For this you do not say.
B. It has a chimney.
A. But if it smokes, it will be worse than none.
B. The man will kill me with his endless questions.
36. These passages I have quoted to you on the part of us who are still alive, my well-fed friend Ulpian. For you too, as it seems to me, agree so far with Alexis as to eat no living animals. And Alexis, in his Attic Woman, speaks in the following manner—
The man who first did say that no philosopher
Would eat of living things, was truly wise.
For I am just come home, and have not bought
A living thing of any kind. I've bought
Some fish, but they were dead, and splendid fish.
Then here are joints of well-fed household lamb,
But he was kill'd last week. What else have I?
Oh, here's some roasted liver. If there be
A man who can this liver prove to have
Or soul or voice or animation,
I will confess I've err'd and broken the law.
So now after all this let us have some supper. For just see, while I am talking to you, all the pheasants have flown by me, and are gone out of reach, disregarding me, because of your unseasonable chattering. But I should like you to tell me, my master Myrtilus, said Ulpian, where you got that word ὀλβιογάστωρ, and also whether any ancient author mentions the pheasant, and I—
Rising at early morn to sail . . . .
not through the Hellespont, but into the market-place, will buy a pheasant which you and I may eat together.
37. And Myrtilus said,—On this condition I will tell you. Amphis uses the word ὀλβιογάστωρ in his Gynæcomania, where he speaks as follows:—
Eurybates, you hunter of rich smells,
You surely are the most well-fed (ὀλβιογάστωρ) of men.
And as for the bird called the pheasant, that delicious writer Aristophanes mentions it in his play called The Birds. There are in that play two old Athenians, who, from their love of idleness, are looking for a city where there is nothing to do, that they may live there; and so they take a fancy to the life among the birds. And accordingly they come to the birds: and when all of a sudden some wild bird flies towards them, they, alarmed at the sight, comfort one another, and say a great many things, and among them they say this—
A. What now is this bird which we here behold?
Will you not say?
B. I think it is a pheasant.