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In day-time you marshalled your gallant throng of
bacchanals through the public streets, their heads garlanded with fennel and
white poplar; and, as you went, you squeezed the fat-cheeked snakes, or
brandished them above your head, now shouting your Euoi Saboi! now footing it to
the measure of Hyes Attes! Attes Hyes!—saluted by all the old women
with such proud titles as Master of the Ceremonies, Fugleman, Ivy-bearer,
Fan-carrier; and at last receiving your recompense of tipsy-cakes, and
cracknels, and currant-buns. With such rewards who would not rejoice greatly,
and account himself the favorite of fortune?
Demosthenes. Demosthenes with an English translation by C. A. Vince, M. A. and J. H. Vince, M.A. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1926.
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