222
THE COMEDIES OF ARISTOPHANES
A Helmet-maker.
Cursed fate! I am ruined. Here are helmets, for which I gave a mina each. What am I to do with them? who will buy them?
Trygæus.
Go and sell them to the Egyptians; they will do for measuring loosening medicines.[1]
A Spear-maker.
Ah! poor helmet-maker, things are indeed in a bad way.
Trygæus.
That man has no cause for complaint.
Spear-maker.
But helmets will be no more used.
Trygæus.
Let him learn to fit a handle to them and he can sell them for more money.[2]
Spear-maker.
Let us be off, comrade.
Trygæus.
No, I want to buy these spears.
Spear-maker.
What will you give?
Trygæus.
If they could be split in two, I would take them at a drachma per hundred to use as vine-props.
