What else but the charioteers and the kitchen and stable boys
Shouting against each other, and the worst of all is your own,
That chariot-driver, Laeg, and they’ll keep it up till the dawn,
And there’s not a man in the house that will close his eyes to-night,
Or be able to keep them from it, or know what set them to fight.
[A noise of horns without]
There, do you hear them now? such hatred has each for each
They have taken the hunting horns to drown one other’s speech
For fear the truth may prevail.—Here’s your good health and long life,