The Life of the Weevil 



The mixture is the equivalent of the aioli 

 dear to the Provencal palate. It sounds 

 very well in verse, but it lacks substance. 

 On such an occasion men would prefer such 

 solid fare as a dish of red haricots seasoned 

 with chopped onions. Capital: that ballasts 

 the stomach, while remaining just as countri- 

 fied as garlic. Thus filled, in the open air, 

 to the chirping of the Cicadae, the gang of 

 harvesters could take a brief mid-day nap 

 and gently digest their meal in the shade of 

 the sheaves. Our modern Thestyles, differ- 

 ing so little from their classic sisters, would 

 take good care not to forget the gounflo-gus, 

 that thrifty stand-by of big appetites. The 

 Thestylis of the poet does not think of it, 

 because she does not know it. 



The same author shows us Tityrus offering 

 a night's hospitality to his friend Meliboeus, 

 who, driven from his property by the soldiers 

 of Octavius, goes off limping behind his flock 

 of goats. 



"We shall have chestnuts," says Tityrus, 

 "cheese and fruits." 



History does not say if Meliboeus allowed 

 himself to be tempted. It is a pity, for 

 during the frugal meal we might have learnt, 

 270 



