No More Learning

you shall not outdo me in flattery! I am going to hand Demos
this garment; all that remains to you, you rogue, is to go and hang
yourself.

DEMOS. Faugh! may the plague seize you! You stink of leather
horribly. [99]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Why, 'tis to smother you that he has thrown this cloak
around you on top of the other; and it is not the first plot he has
planned against you. Do you remember the time when silphium[100] was so
cheap?

DEMOS. Aye, to be sure I do!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Very well! it was Cleon who had caused the price to fall
so low so that all could eat it and the jurymen in the Courts were almost
poisoned with farting in each others' faces.

DEMOS. Hah! why, indeed, a scavenger told me the same thing.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Were you not yourself in those days quite red in the
gills with farting?

DEMOS. Why, 'twas a trick worthy of Pyrrandrus! [101]

CLEON. With what other idle trash will you seek to ruin me, you wretch!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh! I shall be more brazen than you, for 'tis the goddess
who has commanded me. [102]

CLEON. No, on my honour, you will not! Here, Demos, feast on this dish;
it is your salary as a dicast, which you gain through me for doing
naught.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Hold! here is a little box of ointment to rub into the
sores on your legs.

CLEON. I will pluck out your white hairs and make you young again.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Take this hare's scut to wipe the rheum from your eyes.

CLEON. When you wipe your nose, clean your fingers on my head.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, on mine.

CLEON. On mine. (_To the Sausage-seller. _) I will have you made a
trierarch[103] and you will get ruined through it; I will arrange that
you are given an old vessel with rotten sails, which you will have to
repair constantly and at great cost.

CHORUS. Our man is on the boil; enough, enough, he is boiling over;
remove some of the embers from under him and skim off his threats.

CLEON. I will punish your self-importance; I will crush you with imposts;
I will have you inscribed on the list of the rich.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. For me no threats--only one simple wish. That you may be
having some cuttle-fish fried on the stove just as you are going to set
forth to plead the cause of the Milesians,[104] which, if you gain, means
a talent in your pocket; that you hurry over devouring the fish to rush
off to the Assembly; suddenly you are called and run off with your mouth
full so as not to lose the talent and choke yourself. There! that is my
wish.

CHORUS. Splendid! by Zeus, Apollo and Demeter!

DEMOS. Faith! here is an excellent citizen indeed, such as has not been
seen for a long time. 'Tis truly a man of the lowest scum! As for you,
Paphlagonian, who pretend to love me, you only feed me on garlic. Return
me my ring, for you cease to be my steward.

CLEON. Here it is, but be assured, that if you bereave me of my power, my
successor will be worse than I am.

DEMOS. This cannot be my ring; I see another device, unless I am going
purblind.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What was your device?

DEMOS. A fig-leaf, stuffed with bullock's fat. [105]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, that is not it.

DEMOS. What is it then?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis a gull with beak wide open, haranguing from the top
of a stone. [106]

DEMOS. Ah! great gods!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What is the matter?

DEMOS. Away! away out of my sight! 'Tis not my ring he had, 'twas that of
Cleonymus. (_To the Sausage-seller_. ) Hold, I give you this one; you
shall be my steward.

CLEON. Master, I adjure you, decide nothing till you have heard my
oracles. [107]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And mine.

CLEON. If you believe him, you will have to suck his tool for him.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. If you listen to him, you'll have to let him skin your
penis to the very stump.

CLEON. My oracles say that you are to reign over the whole earth, crowned
with chaplets.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And mine say that, clothed in an embroidered purple robe,
you shall pursue Smicythes and her spouse,[108] standing in a chariot of
gold and with a crown on your head.

DEMOS. Go, fetch me your oracles, that the Paphlagonian may hear them.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Willingly.

DEMOS. And you yours.

CLEON. I run.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I run too; nothing could suit me better!

CHORUS. Oh! happy day for us and for our children, if Cleon perish. Yet
just now I heard some old cross-grained pleaders on the market-place who
hold not this opinion discoursing together. Said they, "If Cleon had not
had the power we should have lacked two most useful tools, the pestle and
the soup-ladle. "[109] You also know what a pig's education he has had;
his school-fellows can recall that he only liked the Dorian style and
would study no other; his music-master in displeasure sent him away,
saying: "This youth in matters of harmony, will only learn the Dorian
style because 'tis akin to bribery. "[110]

CLEON. There, behold and look at this heap; and yet I do not bring all.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ugh! I pant and puff under the weight and yet I do not
bring all.

DEMOS. What are these?

CLEON. Oracles.

DEMOS. All these?

CLEON. Does that astonish you? Why, I have another whole boxful of them.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I the whole of my attics and two rooms besides.

DEMOS. Come, let us see, whose are these oracles?

CLEON. Mine are those of Bacis. [111]

DEMOS (_to the Sausage-seller_). And whose are yours?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Glanis's, the elder brother of Bacis. [112]

DEMOS. And of what do they speak?

CLEON. Of Athens, of Pylos, of you, of me, of all.

DEMOS. And yours?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Of Athens, of lentils, of Lacedaemonians, of fresh
mackerel, of scoundrelly flour-sellers, of you, of me. Ah! ha! now let
him gnaw his own penis with chagrin!

DEMOS. Come, read them out to me and especially that one I like so much,
which says that I shall become an eagle and soar among the clouds.

CLEON. Then listen and be attentive! "Son of Erectheus,[113] understand
the meaning of the words, which the sacred tripods set resounding in the
sanctuary of Apollo. Preserve the sacred dog with the jagged teeth, that
barks and howls in your defence; he will ensure you a salary and, if he
fails, will perish as the victim of the swarms of jays that hunt him down
with their screams. "

DEMOS. By Demeter! I do not understand a word of it. What connection is
there between Erectheus, the jays and the dog?

CLEON. 'Tis I who am the dog, since I bark in your defence. Well! Phoebus
commands you to keep and cherish your dog.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis not so spoken by the god; this dog seems to me to
gnaw at the oracles as others gnaw at doorposts. Here is exactly what
Apollo says of the dog.

DEMOS. Let us hear, but I must first pick up a stone; an oracle which
speaks of a dog might bite me.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. "Son of Erectheus, beware of this Cerberus that enslaves
freemen; he fawns upon you with his tail, when you are dining, but he is
lying in wait to devour your dishes, should you turn your head an
instant; at night he sneaks into the kitchen and, true dog that he is,
licks up with one lap of his tongue both your dishes and . . . the
islands. "[114]

DEMOS. Faith, Glanis, you speak better than your brother.

CLEON. Condescend again to hear me and then judge: "A woman in sacred
Athens will be delivered of a lion, who shall fight for the people
against clouds of gnats with the same ferocity as if he were defending
his whelps; care ye for him, erect wooden walls around him and towers of
brass. " Do you understand that?

DEMOS. Not the least bit in the world.

CLEON. The god tells you here to look after me, for, 'tis I who am your
lion.

DEMOS. How! You have become a lion and I never knew a thing about it?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. There is only one thing which he purposely keeps from
you; he does not say what this wall of wood and brass is in which Apollo
warns you to keep and guard him.

DEMOS. What does the god mean, then?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. He advises you to fit him into a five-holed wooden
collar.

DEMOS. Hah! I think that oracle is about to be fulfilled.

CLEON. Do not believe it; these are but jealous crows, that caw against
me; but never cease to cherish your good hawk; never forget that he
brought you those Lacedaemonian fish, loaded with chains. [115]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! if the Paphlagonian ran any risk that day, 'twas
because he was drunk.
Oh, too credulous son of Cecrops,[116] do you
accept that as a glorious exploit? A woman would carry a heavy burden if
only a man had put it on her shoulders. But to fight! Go to! he would
shit himself, if ever it came to a tussle.

CLEON. Note this Pylos in front of Pylos, of which the oracle speaks,
"Pylos is before Pylos. "[117]

DEMOS. How "in front of Pylos"? What does he mean by that?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. He says he will seize upon your bath-tubs. [118]

DEMOS. Then I shall not bathe to-day.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, as he has stolen our baths. But here is an oracle
about the fleet, to which I beg your best attention.

DEMOS. Read on! I am listening; let us first see how we are to pay our
sailors. [119]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. "Son of Aegeus,[120] beware of the tricks of the
dog-fox,[121] he bites from the rear and rushes off at full speed; he is
nothing but cunning and perfidy. " Do you know what the oracle intends to
say?

DEMOS. The dog-fox is Philostratus. [122]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, no, 'tis Cleon; he is incessantly asking you for
light vessels to go and collect the tributes, and Apollo advises you not
to grant them.

DEMOS. What connection is there between a galley and a dog-fox?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What connection? Why, 'tis quite plain--a galley travels
as fast as a dog.

DEMOS. Why, then, does the oracle not say dog instead of dog-fox?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Because he compares the soldiers to young foxes, who,
like them, eat the grapes in the fields.

DEMOS. Good! Well then! how am I to pay the wages of my young foxes?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will undertake that, and in three days too! But listen
to this further oracle, by which Apollo puts you on your guard against
the snares of the greedy fist.

DEMOS. Of what greedy fist?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. The god in this oracle very clearly points to the hand of
Cleon, who incessantly holds his out, saying, "Fill it. "

CLEON. 'Tis false! Phoebus means the hand of Diopithes. [123] But here I
have a winged oracle, which promises you shall become an eagle and rule
over all the earth.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I have one, which says that you shall be King of the
Earth and of the Sea, and that you shall administer justice in Ecbatana,
eating fine rich stews the while.

CLEON. I have seen Athene[124] in a dream, pouring out full vials of
riches and health over the people.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I too have seen the goddess, descending from the
Acropolis with an owl perched upon her helmet; on your head she was
pouring out ambrosia, on that of Cleon garlic pickle.

DEMOS. Truly Glanis is the wisest of men. I shall yield myself to you;
guide me in my old age and educate me anew.

CLEON. Ah! I adjure you! not yet; wait a little; I will promise to
distribute barley every day.

DEMOS. Ah! I will not hear another word about barley; you have cheated me
too often already, both you and Theophanes. [125]

CLEON. Well then! you shall have flour-cakes all piping hot.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will give you cakes too, and nice cooked fish; you will
only have to eat.

DEMOS. Very well, mind you keep your promises. To whichever of you twain
shall treat me best I hand over the reins of state.

CLEON. I will be first.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, no, _I_ will.

CHORUS. Demos, you are our all-powerful sovereign lord; all tremble
before you, yet you are led by the nose. You love to be flattered and
fooled; you listen to the orators with gaping mouth and your mind is led
astray.

DEMOS. 'Tis rather you who have no brains, if you think me so foolish as
all that; it is with a purpose that I play this idiot's role, for I love
to drink the lifelong day, and so it pleases me to keep a thief for my
minister. When he has thoroughly gorged himself, then I overthrow and
crush him.

CHORUS. What profound wisdom! If it be really so, why! all is for the
best. Your ministers, then, are your victims, whom you nourish and feed
up expressly in the Pnyx, so that, the day your dinner is ready, you may
immolate the fattest and eat him.

DEMOS. Look, see how I play with them, while all the time they think
themselves such adepts at cheating me. I have my eye on them when they
thieve, but I do not appear to be seeing them; then I thrust a judgment
down their throat as it were a feather, and force them to vomit up all
they have robbed from me.

CLEON. Oh! the rascal!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh! the scoundrel!

CLEON. Demos, all is ready these three hours; I await your orders and I
burn with desire to load you with benefits.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I ten, twelve, a thousand hours, a long, long while,
an infinitely long while.

DEMOS. As for me, 'tis thirty thousand hours that I have been impatient;
very long, infinitely long that I have cursed you.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Do you know what you had best do?

DEMOS. If I do not, tell me.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Declare the lists open[126] and we will contend abreast
to determine who shall treat you the best.

DEMOS. Splendid! Draw back in line! [126]

CLEON. I am ready.

DEMOS. Off you go!

SAUSAGE-SELLER (_to Cleon_). I shall not let you get to the tape.

DEMOS. What fervent lovers! If I am not to-day the happiest of men, 'tis
because I shall be the most disgusted.

CLEON. Look! 'tis I who am the first to bring you a seat.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I a table.

CLEON. Hold, here is a cake kneaded of Pylos barley. [127]

SAUSAGE--SELLER. Here are crusts, which the ivory hand of the goddess has
hallowed. [128]

DEMOS. Oh! Mighty Athene! How large are your fingers!

CLEON. This is pea-soup, as exquisite as it is fine; 'tis Pallas the
victorious goddess at Pylos who crushed the peas herself.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh, Demos! the goddess watches over you; she is
stretching forth over your head . . . a stew-pan full of broth.

DEMOS. And should we still be dwelling in this city without this
protecting stew-pan?

CLEON. Here are some fish, given to you by her who is the terror of our
foes.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. The daughter of the mightiest of the gods sends you this
meat cooked in its own gravy, along with this dish of tripe and some
paunch.

DEMOS. 'Tis to thank me for the Peplos I offered to her; 'tis well.

CLEON. The goddess with the terrible plume invites you to eat this long
cake; you will row the harder on it.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Take this also.

DEMOS. And what shall I do with this tripe?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. She sends it you to belly out your galleys, for she is
always showing her kindly anxiety for our fleet. Now drink this beverage
composed of three parts of water to two of wine.

DEMOS. Ah! what delicious wine, and how well it stands the water. [129]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Twas the goddess who came from the head of Zeus that
mixed this liquor with her own hands.

CLEON. Hold, here is a piece of good rich cake.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. But I offer you an entire cake.

CLEON. But you cannot offer him stewed hare as I do.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! great gods! stewed hare! where shall I find it? Oh!
brain of mine, devise some trick!

CLEON. Do you see this, poor fellow?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. A fig for that! Here are folk coming to seek me.

CLEON. Who are they?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Envoys, bearing sacks bulging with money.

CLEON. (_Hearing money mentioned Clean turns his head, and Agoracritus
seizes the opportunity to snatch away the stewed hare. _) Where, where, I
say?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Bah! What's that to you? Will you not even now let the
strangers alone? Demos, do you see this stewed hare which I bring you?

CLEON. Ah! rascal! you have shamelessly robbed me.

SAUSAGE-SELLER.