Trygæus.
But you must give the word the Ionic form.
Chorus.
Purposely. So that if anyone in the assembly says, “We must go to war,” all may start bleating in alarm, “Oï, oï.” [1]
Trygæus.
A brilliant idea.
Chorus.
And we shall all be lambs one toward the other, yea, and milder still toward the allies.
Trygæus.
Then go for the sheep and haste to bring it back with you; I will prepare the altar for the sacrifice.
Chorus.
How everything succeeds to our wish, when the gods are willing and Fortune favours us! how opportunely everything falls out.
Trygæus.
Nothing could be truer, for look! here stands the altar all ready at my door.
Chorus.
Hurry, hurry, for the winds are fickle; make haste, while the divine will is set on stopping this cruel war and is showering on us the most striking benefits.
Trygæus.
Here is the basket of barley-seed mingled with salt, the chaplet and the sacred knife; and there is the fire; so we are only waiting for the sheep.
- ↑ That is the vocative of ὄϊς, ὄϊος, the Ionic form of the word; in Attic Greek it is contracted throughout—οἶς, οἰός, etc.
