Plautus, The Braggart Soldier

LCL 163: 144-145

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Plautus

Actvs I i. i: pyrgopolinices. artotrogvs
pyrcurate ut splendor meo sit clupeo clariorquam solis radii esse olim quom sudum est solent,ut, ubi usus ueniat, contra conserta manupraestringat oculorum aciem in acie hostibus.5nam ego hanc machaeram mihi consolari uolo,ne lamentetur neue animum despondeat,quia se iam pridem feriatam gestitem,quae misera gestit fartem facere ex hostibus.sed ubi Artotrogus hic est?
artstat propter uirum10fortem atque fortunatum et forma regia.tam bellatorem Mars haud ausit dicereneque aequiperare suas uirtutes ad tuas.
pyrquemne ego seruaui in campis Curculioniis,ubi Bumbomachides Clytomestoridysarchides15erat imperator summus, Neptuni nepos?
artmemini. nempe illum dicis cum armis aureis,quoius tu legiones difflauisti spiritu,quasi uentus folia aut peniculus tectorium.
pyristuc quidem edepol nihil est.
artnihil hercle hoc quidem est20praeut alia dicam . . . quae tu numquam feceris.
  • 11tum P, tam Bothe
  • 18peniculum P, *niculum A, peniculus Ussing, paniculam Turnebus, paniculum Ritschl
144

Miles Gloriosus

Act One Enter PYRGOPOLINICES from his house, wearing a cloak and sword; he is followed by ARTOTROGUS, carrying a stylus and tablets, and attendants carrying a shield.
pyr

(to slaves) Take care that my shield has greater radiance than the rays of the sun can have when the sky is clear, so that when necessary it may dazzle the enemy’s sharpness of sight in the sharpness of fight2 when battle is joined. (as they start cleaning) Well, I want to console this sword5 of mine so that it may not grieve or lose heart because I’ve been carrying it around for a long time as if it were on holiday; poor sword, it’s itching to turn the enemy into mincemeat. But whereabouts is Artotrogus?

art

He’s standing next to a real man, robust, rich, and of royal10 beauty. Mars wouldn’t dare to call himself such a warrior or compare his exploits to yours.

pyr

He wouldn’t, would he? After all, I saved him in the Curculionian Fields, where Bumbomachides Clytomestoridysarchides, Neptune’s grandson, was commander in15 chief.3

art

I remember. You mean the one with golden armor of course, whose legions you scattered with a breath as the wind does leaves or a plasterer’s brush does plaster.

pyr

That’s a mere nothing.

art

Indeed, it’s a mere nothing compared with other things I might mention . . . (aside) which you’ve never done. If

145
DOI: 10.4159/DLCL.plautus-braggart_soldier.2011