No More Learning

Why, Bdelycleon is rising.

BDELYCLEON. Will neither of you come here? My father has got into the
stove-chamber and is ferreting about like a rat in his hole. Take care he
does not escape through the bath drain. You there, put all your weight
against the door.

SOSIAS. Aye, aye, master.

BDELYCLEON. By Zeus! what is that noise in the chimney? Hullo! who are
you?

PHILOCLEON. I am the smoke going up.

BDELYCLEON. Smoke? smoke of what wood?

PHILOCLEON. Of fig-wood. [31]

BDELYCLEON. Ah! 'this the most acrid of all. But you shall not get out.
Where is the chimney cover? [32] Come down again. Now, up with another
cross-bar. Now look out some fresh dodge. But am I not the most
unfortunate of men? Henceforward, I shall only be called the son of the
smoky old man. Slave, hold the door stoutly, throw your weight upon it,
come, put heart into the work. I will come and help you. Watch both lock
and bolt. Take care he does not gnaw through the peg.

PHILOCLEON. What are you dong, you wretches? Let me go out; it is
imperative that I go and judge, or Dracontides will be acquitted.

BDELYCLEON. What a dreadful calamity for you!

PHILOCLEON. Once at Delphi, the god, whom I was consulting, foretold,
that if an accused man escaped me, I should die of consumption.

BDELYCLEON. Apollo, the Saviour, what a prophecy!

PHILOCLEON. Ah! I beseech you, if you do not want my death, let me go.

BDELYCLEON. No, Philocleon, no never, by Posidon!

PHILOCLEON. Well then, I shall gnaw through the net[33] with my teeth.

BDELYCLEON. But you have no teeth.

PHILOCLEON. Oh! you rascal, how can I kill you? How? Give me a sword,
quick, or a conviction tablet.

BDELYCLEON. Our friend is planning some great crime.

PHILOCLEON. No, by Zeus! but I want to go and sell my ass and its
panniers, for 'this the first of the month. [34]

BDELYCLEON. Could I not sell it just as well?

PHILOCLEON. Not as well as I could.

BDELYCLEON. No, but better. Come, bring it here, bring it here by all
means--if you can.

XANTHIAS. What a clever excuse he has found now! What cunning to get you
to let him go out!

BDELYCLEON. Yes, but I have not swallowed the hook; I scented the trick.
I will no in and fetch the ass, so that the old man may not point his
weapons that way again. . . . [35] Stupid old ass, are you weeping because
you are going to be sold? Come, go a bit quicker. Why, what are you
moaning and groaning for? You might be carrying another Odysseus. [36]

XANTHIAS. Why, certainly, so he is! someone has crept beneath his belly.

BDELYCLEON. Who, who? Let us see.

XANTHIAS. 'Tis he.

BDELYCLEON. What does this mean? Who are you? Come, speak!

PHILOCLEON. I am Nobody.

BDELYCLEON. Nobody? Of what country?

PHILOCLEON. Of Ithaca, son of Apodrasippides. [37]

BDELYCLEON. Ha! Mister Nobody, you will not laugh presently. Pull him
out quick! Ah! the wretch, where has be crept to? Does he not resemble
a she-ass to the life?

PHILOCLEON. If you do not leave me in peace, I shall commence
proceedings.

BDELYCLEON. And what will the suit be about?

PHILOCLEON. The shade of an ass. [38]

BDELYCLEON. You are a poor man of very little wit, but thoroughly brazen.

PHILOCLEON. A poor man! Ah! by Zeus! you know not now what I am worth;
but you will know when you disembowel the old Heliast's money bag. [39]

BDELYCLEON. Come, get back indoors, both you and your ass.

PHILOCLEON. Oh! my brethren of the tribunal! oh! Cleon! to the rescue!

BDELYCLEON. Go and bawl in there under lock and key. And you there, pile
plenty of stones against the door, thrust the bolt home into the staple,
and to keep this beam in its place roll that great mortar against it.
Quick's the word.

SOSIAS. Oh! my god! whence did this brick fall on me?

XANTHIAS. Perhaps a rat loosened it.

SOSIAS. A rat? 'tis surely our gutter-judge,[40] who has crept beneath
the tiles of the roof.

XANTHIAS. Ah! woe to us! there he is, he has turned into a sparrow; he
will be flying off. Where is the net? where? pschit! pschit! get back!

BDELYCLEON. Ah! by Zeus! I would rather have to guard Scione[41] than
such a father.

SOSIAS. And how that we have driven him in thoroughly and he can no
longer escape without our knowledge, can we not have a few winks of
sleep, no matter how few?

BDELYCLEON. Why, wretch! the other jurymen will be here almost directly
to summon my father!

SOSIAS. Why, 'tis scarcely dawn yet!

BDELYCLEON. Ah, they must have risen late to-day. Generally it is the
middle of the night when they come to fetch him. They arrive here,
carrying lanterns in their hands and singing the charming old verses of
Phrynichus' "Sidonian Women";[42] 'tis their way of calling him.

SOSIAS. Well, if need be, we will chase them off with stones.

BDELYCLEON. What! you dare to speak so? Why, this class of old men, if
irritated, becomes as terrible as a swarm of wasps. They carry below
their loins the sharpest of stings, with which to sting their foe; they
shout and leap and their stings burn like so many sparks.

SOSIAS. Have no fear! If I can find stones to throw into this nest of
jurymen-wasps, I shall soon have them cleared off.

CHORUS. March on, advance boldly and bravely! Comias, your feet are
dragging; once you were as tough as a dog-skin strap and now even
Charinades walks better than you. Ha! Strymodorus of Conthyle, you best
of mates, where is Euergides and where is Chales of Phyla? Ha, ha,
bravo! there you are, the last of the lads with whom we mounted guard
together at Byzantium. [43] Do you remember how, one night, prowling
round, we noiselessly stole the kneading-trough of a baker's-wife; we
split it in two and cooked our green-stuff with it. --But let us hasten,
for the case of the Laches[44] comes on to-day, and they all say he has
embezzled a pot of money. Hence Cleon, our protector, advised us
yesterday to come early and with a three days' stock of fiery rage so as
to chastise him for his crimes. Let us hurry, comrades, before it is
light; come, let us search every nook with our lanterns to see whether
those who wish us ill have not set us some trap.

BOY. Ah! here is mud! Father, take care!

CHORUS. Pick up a blade of straw and trim the lamp of your lantern.

BOY. No, I can trim it quite well with my finger.

CHORUS. Why do you pull out the wick, you little dolt? Oil is scarce,
and 'tis not you who suffer when it has to be paid for. (_Strikes him. _)

BOY.
If you teach us again with your fists, we shall put out the lamps
and go home; then you will have no light and will squatter about in the
mud like ducks in the dark.

CHORUS. I know how to punish other offenders bigger than you. But I think
I am treading in some mud. Oh! 'tis certain it will rain in torrents for
four days at least; look, what thieves are in our lamps; that is always
a sign of heavy rain; but the rain and the north wind will be good for
the crops that are still standing. . . . Why, what can have happened to our
mate, who lives here? Why does he not come to join our party? There
used to be no need to haul him in our wake, for he would march at our
head singing the verses of Phrynichus; he was a lover of singing. Should
we not, friends, make a halt here and sign to call him out? The charm of
my voice will fetch him out, if he hears it.

Why does the old man not show himself before the door? why does he not
answer? Has he lost his shoes? has he stubbed his toe in the dark and
thus got a swollen ankle? Perhaps he has a tumour in his groin. He was
the hardest of us all; he alone _never_ allowed himself to be moved. If
anyone tried to move him, he would lower his head, saying, "You might
just as well try to boil a stone. " But I bethink me, an accused ma
escaped us yesterday through his false pretence that he loved Athens and
had been the first to unfold the Samian plot. [45] Perhaps his acquittal
has so distressed Philocleon that he is abed with fever--he is quite
capable of such a thing. --Friend, arise, do not thus vex your hear, but
forget your wrath. Today we have to judge a man made wealthy by treason,
one of those who set Thrace free;[46] we have to prepare him a funeral
urn . . . so march on, my boy, get a-going.

BOY. Father, would you give me something if I asked for it?

CHORUS. Assuredly, my child, but tell me what nice thing do you want me
to buy you? A set of knuckle-bones, I suppose.

BOY. No, dad, I prefer figs; they are better.

CHORUS. No, by Zeus! even if you were to hang yourself with vexation.

BOY. Well then, I will lead you no father.

CHORUS. With my small pay, I am obliged to buy bread, wood, stew; and now
you ask me for figs!

BOY. But, father, if the Archon[47] should not form a court to-day, how
are we to buy our dinner? Have you some good hope to offer us or merely
"Helle's sacred waves"? [48]

CHORUS. Alas! alas! I have not a notion how we shall dine.

BOY. Oh! my poor mother! why did you let me see this day?

CHORUS. Oh! my little wallet! you seem like to be a mere useless
ornament!

BOY. 'Tis our destiny to groan.

PHILOCLEON. [49] My friends, I have long been pining away while listening
to you from my window, but I absolutely know not what do do. I am
detained here, because I have long wanted to go with you to the law court
and do all the harm I can. Oh! Zeus! cause the peals of they thunder to
roll, change me quickly into smoke or make me into a Proxenides, a
perfect braggart, like the son of Sellus. Oh, King of Heaven! hesitate
not to grant me this favour, pity my misfortune or else may thy dazzling
lightning instantly reduce me to ashes; then carry me hence, and may thy
breath hurl me into some burning pickle[50] or turn me into one of the
stones on which the votes are counted.

CHORUS. Who is it detains you and shuts you in? Speak, for you are
talking to friends.

PHILOCLEON. 'Tis my son. But no bawling, he is there in front asleep;
lower your voice.

CHORUS. But, poor fellow, what is his aim? what is his object?

PHILOCLEON. My friends, he will not have me judge nor do anyone any ill,
but he wants me to stay at home and enjoy myself, and I will not.

CHORUS. This wretch, this Demolochocleon[51] dares to say such odious
things, just because you tell the truth about our navy!

PHILOCLEON. He would not have dared, had he not been a conspirator.

CHORUS. Meanwhile, you must devise some new dodge, so that you can come
down here without his knowledge.

PHILOCLEON. But what? Try to find some way. For myself, I am ready for
anything, so much do I burn to run along the tiers of the tribunal with
my voting-pebble in my hand.

CHORUS. There is surely some hole through which you could manage to
squeeze from within, and escape dressed in rags, like the crafty
Odysseus. [52]

PHILOCLEON. Everything is sealed fast; not so much as a gnat could get
through. Think of some other plan; there is no possible hold of escape.

CHORUS. Do you recall how, when you were with the army at the taking of
Naxos,[53] you descended so readily from the top of the wall by means of
the spits you have stolen?

PHILOCLEON. I remember that well enough, but what connection is there
with present circumstances? I was young, clever at thieving, I had all my
strength, none watched over me, and I could run off without fear. But
to-day men-at-arms are placed at every outlet to watch me, and two of
them are lying in wait for me at this very door armed with spits, just as
folk lie in wait for a cat that has stolen a piece of meat.

CHORUS. Come, discover some way as quick as possible. Here is the dawn
come, my dear little friend.

PHILOCLEON. The best way is to gnaw through the net. Oh! goddess, who
watches over the nets,[54] forgive me for making a hole in this one.

CHORUS. 'Tis acting like a man eager for his safety. Get your jaws to
work!

PHILOCLEON. There! 'tis gnawed through! But no shouting! let Bdelycleon
notice nothing!

CHORUS. Have no fear, have no fear! if he breathes a syllable, 'twill be
to bruise his own knuckles; he will have to fight to defend his own head.
We shall teach him not to insult the mysteries of the goddesses. [55] But
fasten a rope to the window, tie it around your body and let yourself
down to the ground, with your heart bursting with the fury of
Diopithes. [56]

PHILOCLEON. But if these notice it and want to fish me up and drag me
back into the house, what will you do? Tell me that.

CHORUS. We shall call up the full strength of out courage to your aid.
That is what we will do.

PHILOCLEON. I trust myself to you and risk the danger. If misfortune
overtakes me, take away my body, bathe it with your tears and bury it
beneath the bar of the tribunal.

CHORUS. Nothing will happen to you, rest assured. Come friend, have
courage and let yourself slide down while you invoke your country's gods.

PHILOCLEON. Oh! mighty Lycus! [57] noble hero and my neighbour, thou, like
myself, takest pleasure in the tears and the groans of the accused. If
thou art come to live near the tribunal, 'tis with the express design of
hearing them incessantly; thou alone of all the heroes hast wished to
remain among those who weep. Have pity on me and save him, who lives
close to thee; I swear I will never make water, never, nor relieve my
belly with a fart against the railing of thy statue.

BDELYCLEON. Ho there! ho! get up!

SOSIAS. What's the matter?

BDELYCLEON. Methought I heard talking close to me.

SOSIAS. Is the old man at it again, escaping through some loophole?

BDELYCLEON. No, by Zeus! no, but he is letting himself down by a rope.

SOSIAS. Ha, rascal! what are you doing there? You shall not descend.

BDELYCLEON. Mount quick to the other window, strike him with the boughs
that hang over the entrance; perchance he will turn back when he feels
himself being thrashed.

PHILOCLEON. To the rescue! all you, who are going to have lawsuits this
year--Smicythion, Tisiades, Chremon and Pheredipnus. 'Tis now or never,
before they force me to return, that you must help.

CHORUS. Why do we delay to let loose that fury, that is so terrible, when
our nests are attacked? I feel my angry sting is stiffening, that sharp
sting, with which we punish our enemies. Come, children, cast your cloaks
to the winds, run, shout, tell Cleon what is happening, that he may march
against this foe to our city, who deserves death, since he proposes to
prevent the trial of lawsuits.

BDELYCLEON. Friends, listen to the truth, instead of bawling.

CHORUS. By Zeus! we will shout to heaven and never forsake our friend.
Why, this is intolerable, 'tis manifest tyranny. Oh! citizens, oh!
Theorus,[58] the enemy of the gods! and all you flatterers, who rule us!
come to our aid.

XANTHIAS. By Heracles! they have stings. Do you see them, master?

BDELYCLEON. 'Twas with these weapons that they killed Philippus the son
of Gorgias[59] when he was put on trial.

CHORUS. And you too shall die. Turn yourselves this way, all, with your
stings out for attack and throw yourselves upon him in good and serried
order, and swelled up with wrath and rage. Let him learn to know the sort
of foes he has dared to irritate.

XANTHIAS. The fight will be fast and furious, by great Zeus! I tremble at
the sight of their stings.

CHORUS. Let this man go, unless you want to envy the tortoise his hard
shell.

PHILOCLEON. Come, my dear companions, wasps with relentless hearts, fly
against him, animated with your fury. Sting him in the back, in his eyes
and on his fingers.

BDELYCLEON. Midas, Phryx, Masyntias, here! Come and help. Seize this man
and hand him over to no one, otherwise you shall starve to death in
chains. Fear nothing, I have often heard the crackling of fig-leaves in
the fire. [60]

CHORUS. If you won't let him go, I shall bury this sting in your body.

PHILOCLEON.