Comatas. Nay verily, my friend, so help me these nymphs of the mere
(and ever may they be favourable, as now, and kind to me), it was not
Comatas that pilfered thy pipe.

Lacon. If I believe thee, may I suffer the afflictions of Daphnis!
But see, if thou carest to stake a kid--though indeed 'tis scarce
worth my while--then, go to, I will sing against thee, and cease not,
till thou dust cry 'enough!'

Comatas. The sow defied Athene! See, there is staked the kid, go
to, do thou too put a fatted lamb against him, for thy stake.

Lacon. Thou fox, and where would be our even betting then? Who ever
chose hair to shear, in place of wool? and who prefers to milk a
filthy bitch, when he can have a she-goat, nursing her first kid?

Comatas. Why, he that deems himself as sure of getting the better of
his neighbour as thou dost, a wasp that buzzes against the cicala.
But as it is plain thou thinkst the kid no fair stake, lo, here is
this he-goat. Begin the match!

Lacon. No such haste, thou art not on fire! More sweetly wilt thou
sing, if thou wilt sit down beneath the wild olive tree, and the
groves in this place. Chill water falls there, drop by drop, here
grows the grass, and here a leafy bed is strown, and here the locusts
prattle.

Comatas. Nay, no whit am I in haste, but I am sorely vexed, that
thou shouldst dare to look me straight in the face, thou whom I used