their deserts, the epicures."[16]

[15] Lit. "I warrent you! (quoth Socrates) and there's another funny
notion we have every chance of getting fathered on us."

[16] Or, "and had a most hilarious and herbaceous time."

No fear of that (rejoined Niceratus). Always take a bite of onion
before speeding forth to battle, just as your patrons of the cock-pit
give their birds a feed of garlic[17] before they put them for the
fight. But for ourselves our thoughts are less intent perhaps on
dealing blows than blowing kisses.[18]

[17] Cf. Aristoph. "Knights," 494:

Chorus. And here's the garlic. Swallow it down!
Sausage Seller. . . . What for?
Chorus. It will prime you up and make you fight the better.

H. Frere.

[18] "We are concerned less with the lists of battle than of love";
"we meditate no furious close of battle but of lips." Lit. "how we
shall kiss some one rather than do battle with."

After such sort the theme of their discourse reached its conclusion.

Then Critobulus spoke: It is now my turn, I think, to state to you the
grounds on which I pride myself on beauty.[19]