to teach while thou wert still a child. See where gratitude goes!
As well rear wolf-whelps, breed hounds, that they may devour thee!

Lacon. And what good thing have I to remember that I ever learned or
heard from thee, thou envious thing, thou mere hideous manikin!

* * *

But come this way, come, and thou shalt sing thy last of country
song.

Comatas. That way I will not go! Here be oak trees, and here the
galingale, and sweetly here hum the bees about the hives. There are
two wells of chill water, and on the tree the birds are warbling, and
the shadow is beyond compare with that where thou liest, and from on
high the pine tree pelts us with her cones.

Lacon. Nay, but lambs' wool, truly, and fleeces, shalt thou tread
here, if thou wilt but come,--fleeces more soft than sleep, but the
goat-skins beside thee stink--worse than thyself. And I will set a
great bowl of white milk for the nymphs, and another will I offer of
sweet olive oil.

Comatas. Nay, but an if thou wilt come, thou shalt tread here the
soft feathered fern, and flowering thyme, and beneath thee shall be
strown the skins of she-goats, four times more soft than the fleeces
of thy lambs. And I will set out eight bowls of milk for Pan, and
eight bowls full of the richest honeycombs.

Lacon. Thence, where thou art, I pray thee, begin the match, and