DICAEOPOLIS
Ye gods, what garlic I have lost! But here comes Amphitheus
returned from Lacedaemon. Welcome, Amphitheus.

AMPHITHEUS
No, there is no welcome for me and I fly as fast as I can, for I
am pursued by the Acharnians.

DICAEOPOLIS
Why, what has happened?

AMPHITHEUS
I was hurrying to bring your treaty of truce, but some old dotards
from Acharnae[1] got scent of the thing; they are veterans of Marathon,
tough as oak or maple, of which they are made for sure--rough and
ruthless. They all started a-crying: "Wretch! you are the bearer of
a treaty, and the enemy has only just cut our vines!" Meanwhile they
were gathering stones in their cloaks, so I fled and they ran after
me shouting.

f[1] The deme of Acharnae was largely inhabited by charcoal-burners,
who supplied the city with fuel.

DICAEOPOLIS
Let 'em shout as much as they please! But HAVE you brought me
a treaty?

AMPHITHEUS
Most certainly, here are three samples to select from,[1] this one is
five years old; take it and taste.