NICIAS. Let us drink the blood of a bull; 'tis the death which
Themistocles chose.[15]
DEMOSTHENES. No, not that, but a bumper of good unmixed wine in honour of
the Good Genius;[16] perchance we may stumble on a happy thought.
NICIAS. Look at him! "Unmixed wine!" Your mind is on drink intent? Can a
man strike out a brilliant thought when drunk?
DEMOSTHENES. Without question. Go, ninny, blow yourself out with water;
do you dare to accuse wine of clouding the reason? Quote me more
marvellous effects than those of wine. Look! when a man drinks, he is
rich, everything he touches succeeds, he gains lawsuits, is happy and
helps his friends. Come, bring hither quick a flagon of wine, that I may
soak my brain and get an ingenious idea.
NICIAS. Eh, my god! What can your drinking do to help us?
DEMOSTHENES. Much. But bring it to me, while I take my seat. Once drunk,
I shall strew little ideas, little phrases, little reasonings everywhere.
NICIAS (_returning with a flagon_). It is lucky I was not caught in the
house stealing the wine.
DEMOSTHENES. Tell me, what is the Paphlagonian doing now?
NICIAS. The wretch has just gobbled up some confiscated cakes; he is
drunk and lies at full-length a-snoring on his hides.
DEMOSTHENES. Very well, come along, pour me out wine and plenty of it.
NICIAS. Take it and offer a libation to your Good Genius; taste, taste
the liquor of the genial soil of Pramnium.[17]
DEMOSTHENES. Oh, Good Genius! 'Tis thy will, not mine.
NICIAS. Prithee, tell me, what is it?
DEMOSTHENES. Run indoors quick and steal the oracles of the Paphlagonian,
while he is asleep.[18]
NICIAS. Bless me! I fear this Good Genius will be but a very Bad Genius
for me.
DEMOSTHENES. And set the flagon near me, that I may moisten my wit to
invent some brilliant notion.
NICIAS (_enters the house and returns at once_). How the Paphlagonian
grunts and snores! I was able to seize the sacred oracle, which he was
guarding with the greatest care, without his seeing me.
DEMOSTHENES. Oh! clever fellow! Hand it here, that I may read. Come, pour
me out some drink, bestir yourself! Let me see what there is in it. Oh!
prophecy! Some drink! some drink! Quick!
NICIAS. Well! what says the oracle?
DEMOSTHENES. Pour again.
NICIAS. Is "pour again" in the oracle?
DEMOSTHENES. Oh, Bacis![19]
NICIAS. But what is in it?
DEMOSTHENES. Quick! some drink!
NICIAS. Bacis is very dry!
DEMOSTHENES. Oh! miserable Paphlagonian! This then is why you have so
long taken such precautions; your horoscope gave you qualms of terror.
NICIAS. What does it say?
DEMOSTHENES. It says here how he must end.
NICIAS. And how?
DEMOSTHENES. How? the oracle announces clearly that a dealer in oakum
must first govern the city.[20]
NICIAS. First dealer. And after him, who?
DEMOSTHENES. After him, a sheep-dealer.[21]
NICIAS. Two dealers, eh? And what is this one's fate?
DEMOSTHENES. To reign until a greater scoundrel than he arises; then he
perishes and in his place the leather-seller appears, the Paphlagonian
robber, the bawler, who roars like a torrent.[22]
NICIAS. And the leather-seller must destroy the sheep-seller?
DEMOSTHENES. Yes.
NICIAS. Oh! woe is me! Where can another seller be found, is there ever a
one left?
DEMOSTHENES. There is yet one, who plies a firstrate trade.
NICIAS. Tell me, pray, what is that?
DEMOSTHENES. You really want to know?
NICIAS. Yes.
DEMOSTHENES. Well then! 'tis a sausage-seller who must overthrow him.
NICIAS. A sausage-seller! Ah! by Posidon! what a fine trade! But where
can this man be found?
DEMOSTHENES. Let us seek him.
NICIAS. Lo! there he is, going towards the market-place; 'tis the gods,
the gods who send him!
DEMOSTHENES. This way, this way, oh, lucky sausage-seller, come forward,
dear friend, our saviour, the saviour of our city.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What is it? Why do you call me?
DEMOSTHENES. Come here, come and learn about your good luck, you who are
Fortune's favourite!
NICIAS. Come! Relieve him of his basket-tray and tell him the oracle of
the god; I will go and look after the Paphlagonian.
DEMOSTHENES. First put down all your gear, then worship the earth and the
gods.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis done. What is the matter?
DEMOSTHENES. Happiness, riches, power; to-day you have nothing, to-morrow
you will have all, oh! chief of happy Athens.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Why not leave me to wash my tripe and to sell my sausages
instead of making game of me?
DEMOSTHENES. Oh! the fool! Your tripe! Do you see these tiers of
people?[23]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes.
DEMOSTHENES. You shall be master to them all, governor of the market, of
the harbours, of the Pnyx; you shall trample the Senate under foot, be
able to cashier the generals, load them with fetters, throw them into
gaol, and you will play the debauchee in the Prytaneum.[24]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What! I?
DEMOSTHENES. You, without a doubt. But you do not yet see all the glory
awaiting you. Stand on your basket and look at all the islands that
surround Athens.[25]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I see them. What then?
DEMOSTHENES. Look at the storehouses and the shipping.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, I am looking.
DEMOSTHENES. Exists there a mortal more blest than you? Furthermore, turn
your right eye towards Caria and your left towards Chalcedon.[26]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis then a blessing to squint!
DEMOSTHENES. No, but 'tis you who are going to trade away all this.
According to the oracle you must become the greatest of men.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Just tell me how a sausage-seller can become a great man.
DEMOSTHENES. That is precisely why you will be great, because you are a
sad rascal without shame, no better than a common market rogue.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I do not hold myself worthy of wielding power.
DEMOSTHENES. Oh! by the gods! Why do you not hold yourself worthy? Have
you then such a good opinion of yourself? Come, are you of honest
parentage?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. By the gods! No! of very bad indeed.
DEMOSTHENES. Spoilt child of fortune, everything fits together to ensure
your greatness.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. But I have not had the least education. I can only read,
and that very badly.
DEMOSTHENES. That is what may stand in your way, almost knowing how to
read. The demagogues will neither have an educated nor an honest man;
they require an ignoramus and a rogue. But do not, do not let go this
gift, which the oracle promises.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. But what does the oracle say?
DEMOSTHENES. Faith! it is put together in very fine enigmatical style, as
elegant as it is clear: "When the eagle-tanner with the hooked claws
shall seize a stupid dragon, a blood-sucker, it will be an end to the hot
Paphlagonian pickled garlic. The god grants great glory to the
sausage-sellers unless they prefer to sell their wares."
SAUSAGE-SELLER. In what way does this concern me? Pray instruct my
ignorance.
DEMOSTHENES. The eagle-tanner is the Paphlagonian.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What do the hooked claws mean?
DEMOSTHENES. It means to say, that he robs and pillages us with his
claw-like hands.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And the dragon?
DEMOSTHENES. That is quite clear. The dragon is long and so also is the
sausage; the sausage like the dragon is a drinker of blood. Therefore the
oracle says, that the dragon will triumph over the eagle-tanner, if he
does not let himself be cajoled with words.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. The oracles of the gods summon me! Faith! I do not at all
understand how I can be capable of governing the people.
DEMOSTHENES. Nothing simpler. Continue your trade. Mix and knead together
all the state business as you do for your sausages. To win the people,
always cook them some savoury that pleases them. Besides, you possess all
the attributes of a demagogue; a screeching, horrible voice, a perverse,
cross-grained nature and the language of the market-place. In you all is
united which is needful for governing. The oracles are in your favour,
even including that of Delphi. Come, take a chaplet, offer a libation to
the god of Stupidity[27] and take care to fight vigorously.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Who will be my ally? for the rich fear the Paphlagonian
and the poor shudder at the sight of him.
DEMOSTHENES. You will have a thousand brave Knights,[28] who detest him,
on your side; also the honest citizens amongst the spectators, those who
are men of brave hearts, and finally myself and the god. Fear not, you
will not see his features, for none have dared to make a mask resembling
him. But the public have wit enough to recognize him.[29]
NICIAS. Oh! mercy! here is the Paphlagonian!
CLEON. By the twelve gods! Woe betide you, who have too long been
conspiring against Demos. What means this Chalcidian cup? No doubt you
are provoking the Chalcidians to revolt. You shall be killed, butchered,
you brace of rogues.
DEMOSTHENES. What! are you for running away? Come, come, stand firm, bold
Sausage-seller, do not betray us. To the rescue, oh! Knights. Now is the
time. Simon, Panaetius,[30] get you to the right wing; they are coming
on; hold tight and return to the charge. I can see the dust of their
horses' hoofs; they are galloping to our aid. Courage! Repel, attack
them, put them to flight.
CHORUS. Strike, strike the villain, who has spread confusion amongst the
ranks of the Knights, this public robber, this yawning gulf of plunder,
this devouring Charybdis,[31] this villain, this villain, this villain! I
cannot say the word too often, for he _is_ a villain a thousand times a
day. Come, strike, drive, hurl him over and crush him to pieces; hate him
as we hate him; stun him with your blows and your shouts. And beware lest
he escape you; he knows the way Eucrates[32] took straight to a bran sack
for concealment.
CLEON. Oh! veteran Heliasts,[33] brotherhood of the three obols,[34] whom
I fostered by bawling at random, help me; I am being beaten to death by
rebels.
CHORUS. And 'tis justice; you devour the public funds that all should
share in; you treat the officers answerable for the revenue like the
fruit of the fig tree, squeezing them to find which are still green or
more or less ripe; and, when you find one simple and timid, you force him
to come from the Chersonese,[35] then you seize him by the middle,
throttle him by the neck, while you twist his shoulder back; he falls and
you devour him.[36] Besides, you know very well how to select from among
the citizens those who are as meek as lambs, rich, without guile and
loathers of lawsuits.
CLEON. Eh! what! Knights, are you helping them? But, if I am beaten, 'tis
in your cause, for I was going to propose to erect you a statue in the
city in memory of your bravery.
CHORUS. Oh! the impostor! the dull varlet! See! he treats us like old
dotards and crawls at our feet to deceive us; but the cunning wherein
lies his power shall this time recoil on himself; he trips up himself by
resorting to such artifices.
CLEON. Oh Citizens! oh people! see how these brutes are bursting my
belly.
CHORUS. What shouts! but 'tis this very bawling that incessantly upsets
the city!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I can shout too--and so loud that you will flee with
fear.
CHORUS. If you shout louder than he does, I will strike up the triumphal
hymn; if you surpass him in impudence, the cake is ours.
CLEON. I denounce this fellow; he has had tasty stews exported from
Athens for the Spartan fleet.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I denounce him, who runs into the Prytaneum with
empty belly and comes out with it full.
DEMOSTHENES. And by Zeus! he carries off bread, meat, and fish, which is
forbidden. Pericles himself never had this right.
CLEON. You are travelling the right road to get killed.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I'll bawl three times as loud as you.
CLEON. I will deafen you with my yells.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I you with my bellowing.
CLEON. I shall calumniate you, if you become a Strategus.[37]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Dog, I will lay your back open with the lash.
CLEON. I will make you drop your arrogance.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will baffle your machinations.
CLEON. Dare to look me in the face!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I too was brought up in the market-place.
CLEON. I will cut you to shreds if you whisper a word.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will daub you with dung if you open your mouth.
CLEON. I own I am a thief; do you admit yourself another.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. By our Hermes of the market-place, if caught in the act,
why, I perjure myself before those who saw me.
CLEON. These are my own special tricks. I will denounce you to the
Prytanes[38] as the owner of sacred tripe, that has not paid tithe.
CHORUS. Oh! you scoundrel! you impudent bawler! everything is filled with
your daring, all Attica, the Assembly, the Treasury, the decrees, the
tribunals. As a furious torrent you have overthrown our city; your
outcries have deafened Athens and, posted upon a high rock, you have lain
in wait for the tribute moneys as the fisherman does for the tunny-fish.
CLEON. I know your tricks; 'tis an old plot resoled.[39]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. If you know naught of soling, I understand nothing of
sausages; you, who cut bad leather on the slant to make it look stout and
deceive the country yokels. They had not worn it a day before it had
stretched some two spans.
DEMOSTHENES 'Tis the very trick he served me; both my neighbours and my
friends laughed heartily at me, and before I reached Pergasae[40] I was
swimming in my shoes.
CHORUS. Have you not always shown that blatant impudence, which is the
sole strength of our orators? You push it so far, that you, the head of
the State, dare to milk the purses of the opulent aliens and, at sight of
you, the son of Hippodamus[41] melts into tears. But here is another man,
who gives me pleasure, for he is a much greater rascal than you; he will
overthrow you; 'tis easy to see, that he will beat you in roguery, in
brazenness and in clever turns. Come, you, who have been brought up among
the class which to-day gives us all our great men, show us that a liberal
education is mere tomfoolery.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Just hear what sort of fellow that fine citizen is.
CLEON. Will you not let me speak?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Assuredly not, for I also am a sad rascal.
CHORUS. If he does not give in at that, tell him your parents were sad
rascals too.
CLEON. Once more, will you not let me speak?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, by Zeus!
CLEON. Yes, by Zeus, but you shall!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, by Posidon! We will fight first to see who shall
speak first.
CLEON. I will die sooner.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will not let you....
CHORUS. Let him, in the name of the gods, let him die.
CLEON. What makes you so bold as to dare to speak to my face?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis that I know both how to speak and how to cook.
CLEON. Hah! the fine speaker! Truly, if some business matter fell your
way, you would know thoroughly well how to attack it, to carve it up
alive! Shall I tell you what has happened to you? Like so many others,
you have gained some petty lawsuit against some alien.[42] Did you drink
enough water to inspire you? Did you mutter over the thing sufficiently
through the night, spout it along the street, recite it to all you met?
Have you bored your friends enough with it? 'Tis then for this you deem
yourself an orator. Ah! poor fool!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And what do you drink yourself then, to be able all alone
by yourself to dumbfound and stupefy the city so with your clamour?
CLEON. Can you match me with a rival? Me! When I have devoured a good hot
tunny-fish and drunk on top of it a great jar of unmixed wine, I hold up
the Generals of Pylos to public scorn.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, when I have bolted the tripe of an ox together
with a sow's belly and swallowed the broth as well, I am fit, though
slobbering with grease, to bellow louder than all orators and to terrify
Nicias.
CHORUS. I admire your language so much; the only thing I do not approve
is that you swallow all the broth yourself.
CLEON. E'en though you gorged yourself on sea-dogs, you would not beat
the Milesians.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Give me a bullock's breast to devour, and I am a man to
traffic in mines.[43]
CLEON. I will rush into the Senate and set them all by the ears.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I will lug out your gut to stuff like a sausage.
CLEON. As for me, I will seize you by the rump and hurl you head foremost
through the door.
CHORUS. In any case, by Posidon, 'twill only be when you have thrown _me_
there first.[44]
CLEON. Beware of the carcan![45]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I denounce you for cowardice.
CLEON. I will tan your hide.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will flay you and make a thief's pouch with the skin.
CLEON. I will peg you out on the ground.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will slice you into mince-meat.
CLEON. I will tear out your eyelashes.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will slit your gullet.
DEMOSTHENES. We will set his mouth open with a wooden stick as the cooks
do with pigs; we will tear out his tongue, and, looking down his gaping
throat, will see whether his inside has any pimples.[46]
CHORUS. Thus then at Athens we have something more fiery than fire, more
impudent than impudence itself! 'Tis a grave matter; come, we will push
and jostle him without mercy. There, you grip him tightly under the arms;
if he gives way at the onset, you will find him nothing but a craven; I
know my man.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That he has been all his life and he has only made
himself a name by reaping another's harvest; and now he has tied up the
ears he gathered over there, he lets them dry and seeks to sell them.[47]
CLEON. I do not fear you as long as there is a Senate and a people which
stands like a fool, gaping in the air.
CHORUS. What unparalleled impudence! 'Tis ever the same brazen front. If
I don't hate you, why, I'm ready to take the place of the one blanket
Cratinus wets;[48] I'll offer to play a tragedy by Morsimus.[49] 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! Then
only would I sing, "Let us drink, let us drink to this happy event!"[50]
Then even the son of Iulius,[51] the old niggard, would empty his cup
with transports of joy, crying, "Io, Paean! Io, Bacchus!"
CLEON. By Posidon! You! would you beat me in impudence! If you succeed,
may I no longer have my share of the victims offered to Zeus on the city
altar.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, I swear by the blows that have so oft rained upon
my shoulders since infancy, and by the knives that have cut me, that I
will show more effrontery than you; as sure as I have rounded this fine
stomach by feeding on the pieces of bread that had cleansed other folk's
greasy fingers.[52]
CLEON. On pieces of bread, like a dog! Ah! wretch! you have the nature of
a dog and you dare to fight a cynecephalus?[53]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I have many another trick in my sack, memories of my
childhood's days. I used to linger around the cooks and say to them,
"Look, friends, don't you see a swallow? 'tis the herald of springtime."
And while they stood, their noses in the air, I made off with a piece of
meat.
CHORUS. Oh! most clever man! How well thought out! You did as the eaters
of artichokes, you gathered them before the return of the swallows.[54]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. They could make nothing of it; or, if they suspected a
trick, I hid the meat in my breeches and denied the thing by all the
gods; so that an orator, seeing me at the game, cried, "This child will
get on; he has the mettle that makes a statesman."
CHORUS. He argued rightly; to steal, perjure yourself and make a receiver
of your rump[55] are three essentials for climbing high.
CLEON. I will stop your insolence, or rather the insolence of both of
you. I will throw myself upon you like a terrible hurricane ravaging both
land and sea at the will of its fury.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Then I will gather up my sausages and entrust myself to
the kindly waves of fortune so as to make you all the more enraged.
DEMOSTHENES. And I will watch in the bilges in case the boat should make
water.
CLEON. No, by Demeter! I swear, 'twill not be with impunity that you have
thieved so many talents from the Athenians.[56]
CHORUS (_to the Sausage-seller_). Oh! oh! reef your sail a bit! Here is
Boreas blowing calumniously.
CLEON. I know that you got ten talents out of Potidaea.[57]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Hold! I will give you one; but keep it dark!
CHORUS. Hah! that will please him mightily; now you can travel under full
sail.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, the wind has lost its violence.
CLEON. I will bring four suits against you, each of one hundred
talents.[58]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I twenty against you for shirking duty and more than
a thousand for robbery.
CLEON. I maintain that your parents were guilty of sacrilege against the
goddess.[59]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, that one of your grandfathers was a satellite....
CLEON. To whom? Explain!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. To Byrsina, the mother of Hippias.[60]
CLEON. You are an impostor.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And you are a rogue.
CHORUS. Hit him hard.
CLEON. Oh, oh, dear! The conspirators are murdering me!
CHORUS. Strike, strike with all your might; bruise his belly, lashing him
with your guts and your tripe; punish him with both arms! Oh! vigorous
assailant and intrepid heart! Have you not routed him totally in this
duel of abuse? how shall I give tongue to my joy and sufficiently praise
you?
CLEON. Ah! by Demeter! I was not ignorant of this plot against me; I knew
it was forming, that the chariot of war was being put together.[61]
CHORUS (_to Sausage-seller_). Look out, look out! Come, outfence him with
some wheelwright slang?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. His tricks at Argos do not escape me. Under pretence of
forming an alliance with the Argives, he is hatching a plot with the
Lacedaemonians there; and I know why the bellows are blowing and the
metal that is on the anvil; 'tis the question of the prisoners.
CHORUS. Well done! Forge on, if he be a wheelwright.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And there are men at Sparta[62] who are hammering the
iron with you; but neither gold nor silver nor prayers nor anything else
shall impede my denouncing your trickery to the Athenians.
CLEON. As for me, I hasten to the Senate to reveal your plotting, your
nightly gatherings in the city, your trafficking with the Medes and with
the Great King, and all you are foraging for in Boeotia.[63]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What price then is paid for forage by Boeotians?
CLEON. Oh! by Heracles! I will tan your hide.
CHORUS. Come, if you have both wit and heart, now is the time to show it,
as on the day when you hid the meat in your breeches, as you say. Hasten
to the Senate, for he will rush there like a tornado to calumniate us all
and give vent to his fearful bellowings.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I am going, but first I must rid myself of my tripe and
my knives; I will leave them here.
CHORUS. Stay! rub your neck with lard; in this way you will slip between
the fingers of calumny.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Spoken like a finished master of fence.
CHORUS. Now, bolt down these cloves of garlic.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Pray, what for?
CHORUS. Well primed with garlic, you will have greater mettle for the
fight. But hurry, hurry, bestir yourself!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That's just what I am doing.
CHORUS. And, above all, bite your foe, rend him to atoms, tear off his
comb[64] and do not return until you have devoured his wattles. Go! make
your attack with a light heart, avenge me and may Zeus guard you! I burn
to see you return the victor and laden with chaplets of glory. And you,
spectators, enlightened critics of all kinds of poetry, lend an ear to my
anapaests.[65]
CHORUS. Had one of the old authors asked to mount this stage to recite
his verses, he would not have found it hard to persuade me. But our poet
of to-day is likewise worthy of this favour; he shares our hatred, he
dares to tell the truth, he boldly braves both waterspouts and
hurricanes. Many among you, he tells us, have expressed wonder, that he
has not long since had a piece presented in his own name, and have asked
the reason why.[66] This is what he bids us say in reply to your
questions; 'tis not without grounds that he has courted the shade, for,
in his opinion, nothing is more difficult than to cultivate the comic
Muse; many court her, but very few secure her favours. Moreover, he knows
that you are fickle by nature and betray your poets when they grow old.
What fate befell Magnes,[67] when his hair went white? Often enough has
he triumphed over his rivals; he has sung in all keys, played the lyre
and fluttered wings; he turned into a Lydian and even into a gnat, daubed
himself with green to become a frog.[68] All in vain! When young, you
applauded him; in his old age you hooted and mocked him, because his
genius for raillery had gone. Cratinus[69] again was like a torrent of
glory rushing across the plain, uprooting oak, plane tree and rivals and
bearing them pell-mell in its wake. The only songs at the banquet were,
'Doro, shod with lying tales' and 'Adepts of the Lyric Muse';[70] so
great was his renown. Look at him now! he drivels, his lyre has neither
strings nor keys, his voice quivers, but you have no pity for him, and
you let him wander about as he can, like Connas,[71] his temples circled
with a withered chaplet; the poor old fellow is dying of thirst; he who,
in honour of his glorious past, should be in the Prytaneum drinking at
his ease, and instead of trudging the country should be sitting amongst
the first row of the spectators, close to the statue of Dionysus[72] and
loaded with perfumes. Crates,[73] again, have you done hounding him with
your rage and your hisses? True, 'twas but meagre fare that his sterile
Muse could offer you; a few ingenious fancies formed the sole
ingredients, but nevertheless he knew how to stand firm and to recover
from his falls. 'Tis such examples that frighten our poet; in addition,
he would tell himself, that before being a pilot, he must first know how
to row, then to keep watch at the prow, after that how to gauge the
winds, and that only then would he be able to command his vessel.[74] If
then you approve this wise caution and his resolve that he would not bore
you with foolish nonsense, raise loud waves of applause in his favour
this day, so that, at this Lenaean feast, the breath of your favour may
swell the sails of his trumphant galley and the poet may withdraw proud
of his success, with head erect and his face beaming with delight.
Posidon, god of the racing steed, I salute you, you who delight in their
neighing and in the resounding clatter of their brass-shod hoofs, god of
the swift galleys, which, loaded with mercenaries, cleave the seas with
their azure beaks, god of the equestrian contests, in which young rivals,
eager for glory, ruin themselves for the sake of distinction with their
chariots in the arena, come and direct our chorus; Posidon with the
trident of gold, you, who reign over the dolphins, who are worshipped at
Sunium and at Geraestus[75] beloved of Phormio,[76] and dear to the whole
city above all the immortals, I salute you!
Let us sing the glory of our forefathers; ever victors, both on land and
sea, they merit that Athens, rendered famous by these, her worthy sons,
should write their deeds upon the sacred peplus.[77] As soon as they saw
the enemy, they at once sprang at him without ever counting his strength.
Should one of them fall in the conflict, he would shake off the dust,
deny his mishap and begin the struggle anew. Not one of these Generals of
old time would have asked Cleaenetus[78] to be fed at the cost of the
state; but our present men refuse to fight, unless they get the honours
of the Prytaneum and precedence in their seats. As for us, we place our
valour gratuitously at the service of Athens and of her gods; our only
hope is, that, should peace ever put a term to our toils, you will not
grudge us our long, scented hair nor our delicate care for our toilet.
Oh! Pallas, guardian of Athens, you, who reign over the most pious city,
the most powerful, the richest in warriors and in poets, hasten to my
call, bringing in your train our faithful ally in all our expeditions and
combats, Victory, who smiles on our choruses and fights with us against
our rivals. Oh! goddess! manifest yourself to our sight; this day more
than ever we deserve that you should ensure our triumph.
We will sing likewise the exploits of our steeds! they are worthy of our
praises;[79] in what invasions, what fights have I not seen them helping
us! But especially admirable were they, when they bravely leapt upon the
galleys, taking nothing with them but a coarse wine, some cloves of
garlic and onions; despite this, they nevertheless seized the sweeps just
like men, curved their backs over the thwarts and shouted, "Hippopopoh!
Give way! Come, all pull together! Come, come! How! Samphoras![80] Are
you not rowing?" They rushed down upon the coast of Corinth, and the
youngest hollowed out beds in the sand with their hoofs or went to fetch
coverings; instead of luzern, they had no food but crabs, which they
caught on the strand and even in the sea; so that Theorus causes a
Corinthian[81] crab to say, "'Tis a cruel fate, oh Posidon! neither my
deep hiding-places, whether on land or at sea, can help me to escape the
Knights."
Welcome, oh, dearest and bravest of men! How distracted I have been
during your absence! But here you are back, safe and sound. Tell us about
the fight you have had.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. The important thing is that I have beaten the Senate.[82]
CHORUS. All glory to you! Let us burst into shouts of joy! You speak
well, but your deeds are even better. Come, tell me everything in detail;
what a long journey would I not be ready to take to hear your tale! Come,
dear friend, speak with full confidence to your admirers.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. The story is worth hearing. Listen! From here I rushed
straight to the Senate, right in the track of this man; he was already
letting loose the storm, unchaining the lightning, crushing the Knights
beneath huge mountains of calumnies heaped together and having all the
air of truth; he called you conspirators and his lies caught root like
weeds in every mind; dark were the looks on every side and brows were
knitted. When I saw that the Senate listened to him favourably and was
being tricked by his imposture, I said to myself, "Come, gods of rascals
and braggarts, gods of all fools, toad-eaters and braggarts and thou,
market-place, where I was bred from my earliest days, give me unbridled
audacity, an untiring chatter and a shameless voice." No sooner had I
ended this prayer than a lewd man broke wind on my right. "Hah! 'tis a
good omen," said I, and prostrated myself; then I burst open the door by
a vigorous push with my back, and, opening my mouth to the utmost,
shouted, "Senators, I wanted you to be the first to hear the good news;
since the War broke out, I have never seen anchovies at a lower price!"
All faces brightened at once and I was voted a chaplet for my good
tidings; and I added, "With a couple of words I will reveal to you, how
you can have quantities of anchovies for an obol; 'tis to seize on all
the dishes the merchants have." With mouths gaping with admiration, they
applauded me. However, the Paphlagonian winded the matter and, well
knowing the sort of language which pleases the Senate best, said,
"Friends, I am resolved to offer one hundred oxen to the goddess in
recognition of this happy event." The Senate at once veered to his side.
So when I saw myself defeated by this ox filth, I outbade the fellow,
crying, "Two hundred!" And beyond this I moved, that a vow be made to
Diana of a thousand goats if the next day anchovies should only be worth
an obol a hundred. And the Senate looked towards me again. The other,
stunned with the blow, grew delirious in his speech, and at last the
Prytanes and the guards dragged him out. The Senators then stood talking
noisily about the anchovies. Cleon, however, begged them to listen to the
Lacedaemonian envoy, who had come to make proposals of peace; but all
with one accord, cried, "'Tis certainly not the moment to think of peace
now! If anchovies are so cheap, what need have we of peace? Let the war
take its course!" And with loud shouts they demanded that the Prytanes
should close the sitting and then leapt over the rails in all directions.
As for me, I slipped away to buy all the coriander seed and leeks there
were on the market and gave it to them gratis as seasoning for their
anchovies. 'Twas marvellous! They loaded me with praises and caresses;
thus I conquered the Senate with an obol's worth of leeks, and here I am.
CHORUS. Bravo! you are the spoilt child of Fortune. Ah! our knave has
found his match in another, who has far better tricks in his sack, a
thousand kinds of knaveries and of wily words. But the fight begins
afresh; take care not to weaken; you know that I have long been your most
faithful ally.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! ah! here comes the Paphlagonian! One would say, 'twas
a hurricane lashing the sea and rolling the waves before it in its fury.
He looks as if he wanted to swallow me up alive! Ye gods! what an
impudent knave!
CLEON. To my aid, my beloved lies! I am going to destroy you, or my name
is lost.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh! how he diverts me with his threats! His bluster makes
me laugh! And I dance the _mothon_ for joy,[83] and sing at the top of my
voice, cuckoo!
CLEON. Ah! by Demeter! if I do not kill and devour you, may I die!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. If you do not devour me? and I, if I do not drink your
blood to the last drop, and then burst with indigestion.
CLEON. I, I will strangle you, I swear it by the precedence which Pylos
gained me.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. By the precedence! Ah! might I see you fall from your
precedence into the hindmost seat!
CLEON. By heaven! I will put you to the torture.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What a lively wit! Come, what's the best to give you to
eat? What do you prefer? A purse?
CLEON. I will tear out your inside with my nails.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I will cut off your victuals at the Prytaneum.
CLEON. I will haul you before Demos, who will mete out justice to you.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I too will drag you before him and belch forth more
calumnies than you.
CLEON. Why, poor fool, he does not believe you, whereas I play with him
at will.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. So that Demos is your property, your contemptible
creature.
CLEON. 'Tis because I know the dishes that please him.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And these are little mouthfuls, which you serve to him
like a clever nurse. You chew the pieces and place some in small
quantities in his mouth, while you swallow three parts yourself.
CLEON. Thanks to my skill, I know exactly how to enlarge or contract this
gullet.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I can do as much with my rump.
CLEON. Hah! my friend, you tricked me at the Senate, but have a care! Let
us go before Demos.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That's easily done; come, let's along without delay.
CLEON. Oh, Demos! Come, I adjure you to help me, my father!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Come, oh, my dear little Demos; come and see how I am
insulted.
DEMOS. What a hubbub! To the Devil with you, bawlers! alas! my olive
branch, which they have torn down![84] Ah! 'tis you, Paphlagonian. And
who, pray, has been maltreating you?
CLEON. You are the cause of this man and these young people having
covered me with blows.
DEMOS. And why?
CLEON Because you love me passionately, Demos.
DEMOS. And you, who are you? |
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