Chorus
singing
What unparalleled impudence! 'Tis ever the same brazen front.
[400]
If I don't hate you, why, I'm ready to take the place of the one blanket Cratinus wets; I'll offer to play a tragedy by Morsimus. Oh! you cheat! who turn all into money, who flutter from one extortion to another; may you disgorge as quickly as you have crammed yourself!
[405]
Then only would I sing, “Let us drink, let us drink to this happy event!”
[407]
Then even the son of Ulius, the old wheat-fairy, would empty his cup with transports of joy, crying, “Io, Paean! Io, Bacchus!”