No More Learning

But it matters not, so don't put on those triumphant airs; you shall not
be punished any the less for having tried to persuade me that poverty is
worth more than wealth.

POVERTY. Not being able to refute my arguments, you chatter at random and
exert yourself to no purpose.

CHREMYLUS. Then tell me this, why does all mankind flee from you?

POVERTY. Because I make them better. Children do the very same; they flee
from the wise counsels of their fathers. So difficult is it to see one's
true interest.

CHREMYLUS. Will you say that Zeus cannot discern what is best? Well, he
takes Plutus to himself . . .

BLEPSIDEMUS. . . . and banishes Poverty to earth.

POVERTY. Ah me! how purblind you are, you old fellows of the days of
Saturn! Why, Zeus is poor, and I will clearly prove it to you. In the
Olympic games, which he founded, and to which he convokes the whole of
Greece every four years, why does he only crown the victorious athletes
with wild olive? If he were rich he would give them gold.

CHREMYLUS. 'Tis in that way he shows that he clings to his wealth; he is
sparing with it, won't part with any portion of it, only bestows baubles
on the victors and keeps his money for himself.

POVERTY. But wealth coupled to such sordid greed is yet more shameful
than poverty.

CHREMYLUS. May Zeus destroy you, both you and your chaplet of wild olive!

POVERTY. Thus you dare to maintain that poverty is not the fount of all
blessings!

CHREMYLUS. Ask Hecate[775] whether it is better to be rich or starving;
she will tell you that the rich send her a meal every month and that the
poor make it disappear before it is even served. But go and hang yourself
and don't breathe another syllable. I will not be convinced against my
will.

POVERTY. "Oh! citizens of Argos! do you hear what he says? "[776]

CHREMYLUS. Invoke Pauson, your boon companion, rather. [777]

POVERTY. Alas! what is to become of me?

CHREMYLUS. Get you gone, be off quick and a pleasant journey to you.

POVERTY. But where shall I go?

CHREMYLUS. To gaol; but hurry up, let us put an end to this.

POVERTY. One day you will recall me.

CHREMYLUS. Then you can return; but disappear for the present. I prefer
to be rich; you are free to knock your head against the walls in your
rage.

BLEPSIDEMUS. And I too welcome wealth. I want, when I leave the bath all
perfumed with essences, to feast bravely with my wife and children and to
break wind in the faces of toilers and Poverty.

CHREMYLUS. So that hussy has gone at last! But let us make haste to put
Plutus to bed in the Temple of Aesculapius.

BLEPSIDEMUS. Let us make haste; else some bothering fellow may again come
to interrupt us.

CHREMYLUS. Cario, bring the coverlets and all that I have got ready from
the house; let us conduct the god to the Temple, taking care to observe
all the proper rites.

CHORUS. [_Missing. _][778]

CARIO. Oh! you old fellows, who used to dip out the broth served to the
poor at the festival of Theseus with little pieces of bread[779] hollowed
like a spoon, how worthy of envy is your fate! How happy you are, both
you and all just men!

CHORUS. My good fellow, what has happened to your friends? You seem the
bearer of good tidings.

CARIO. What joy for my master and even more for Plutus! The god has
regained his sight; his eyes sparkle with the greatest brilliancy, thanks
to the benevolent care of Aesculapius.

CHORUS. Oh! what transports of joy! oh! What shouts of gladness!

CARIO. Aye! one is compelled to rejoice, whether one will or not.

CHORUS. I will sing to the honour of Aesculapius, the son of illustrious
Zeus, with a resounding voice; he is the beneficent star which men adore.

CHREMYLUS' WIFE. What mean these shouts? Is there good news. With what
impatience have I been waiting in the house, and for so long too!

CARIO. Quick! quick! some wine, mistress. And drink yourself, for 'tis
much to your taste; I bring you all blessings in a lump.

WIFE. Where are they?

CARIO. In my words, as you are going to see.

WIFE. Have done with trifling! come, speak.

CARIO. Listen, I am going to tell you everything from the feet to the
head.

WIFE. Ah! don't throw anything at my head.

CARIO. Not even the happiness that has come to you?

WIFE. No, no, nothing . . . to annoy me.

CARIO. Having arrived near to the Temple with our patient, then so
unfortunate, but now at the apex of happiness, of blessedness, we first
led him down to the sea to purify him.

WIFE. Ah! what a singular pleasure for an old man to bathe in the cold
sea-water!

CARIO. Then we repaired to the Temple of the god. Once the wafers and the
various offerings had been consecrated upon the altar, and the cake of
wheaten-meal had been handed over to the devouring Hephaestus, we made
Plutus lie on a couch according to the rite, and each of us prepared
himself a bed of leaves.

WIFE. Had any other folk come to beseech the deity?

CARIO. Yes. Firstly, Neoclides,[780] who is blind, but steals much better
than those who see clearly; then many others attacked by complaints of
all kinds. The lights were put out and the priest enjoined us to sleep,
especially recommending us to keep silent should we hear any noise. There
we were all lying down quite quietly. I could not sleep; I was thinking
of a certain stew-pan full of pap placed close to an old woman and just
behind her head. I had a furious longing to slip towards that side. But
just as I was lifting my head, I noticed the priest, who was sweeping off
both the cakes and the figs on the sacred table; then he made the round
of the altars and sanctified the cakes that remained, by stowing them
away in a bag. I therefore resolved to follow such a pious example and
made straight for the pap.

WIFE. You wretch! and had you no fear of the god?

CARIO. Aye, indeed! I feared that the god with his crown on his head
might have been near the stew-pan before me. I said to myself, "Like
priest, like god. " On hearing the noise I made, the old woman put out her
hand, but I hissed and bit it, just as a sacred serpent might have
done. [781] Quick she drew back her hand, slipped down into the bed with
her head beneath the coverlets and never moved again; only she let go
some wind in her fear which stunk worse than a weasel. As for myself, I
swallowed a goodly portion of the pap and, having made a good feed, went
back to bed.

WIFE. And did not the god come?

CAIRO. He did not tarry; and when he was near us, oh! dear! such a good
joke happened. My belly was quite blown out, and I let wind with the
loudest of noises.

WIFE. Doubtless the god pulled a wry face?

CARIO. No, but Iaso blushed a little and Panacea[782] turned her head
away, holding her nose; for my perfume is not that of roses.

WIFE. And what did the god do?

CARIO. He paid not the slightest heed.

WIFE. He must then be a pretty coarse kind of god?

CARIO. I don't say that, but he's used to tasting shit. [783]

WIFE. Impudent knave, go on with you!

CARIO. Then I hid myself in my bed all a-tremble. Aesculapius did the
round of the patients and examined them all with great attention; then a
slave placed beside him a stone mortar, a pestle and a little box. [784]

WIFE. Of stone?

CARIO. No, not of stone.

WIFE. But how could you see all this, you arch-rascal, when you say you
were hiding all the time?

CARIO. Why, great gods, through my cloak, for 'tis not without holes! He
first prepared an ointment for Neoclides; he threw three heads of
Tenian[785] garlic into the mortar, pounded them with an admixture of
fig-tree sap and lentisk, moistened the whole with Sphettian[786]
vinegar, and, turning back the patient's eyelids, applied his salve to
the interior of the eyes, so that the pain might be more excruciating.
Neoclides shrieked, howled, sprang towards the foot of his bed and wanted
to bolt, but the god laughed and said to him, "Keep where you are with
your salve; by doing this you will not go and perjure yourself before the
Assembly. "

WIFE What a wise god and what a friend to our city!

CARIO. Thereupon he came and seated himself at the head of Plutus' bed,
took a perfectly clean rag and wiped his eye-lids; Panacea covered his
head and face with a purple cloth, while the god whistled, and two
enormous snakes came rushing from the sanctuary.

WIFE. Great gods!

CARIO. They slipped gently beneath the purple cloth and, as far as I
could judge, licked the patient's eyelids; for, in less time than even
you need, mistress, to drain down ten beakers of wine, Plutus rose up; he
could see. I clapped my hands with joy and awoke my master, and the god
immediately disappeared with the serpents into the sanctuary. As for
those who were lying near Plutus, you can imagine that they embraced him
tenderly. Dawn broke and not one of them had closed an eye. As for
myself, I did not cease thanking the god who had so quickly restored to
Plutus his sight and had made Neoclides blinder than ever.

WIFE. Oh! thou great Aesculapius! How mighty is thy power! (_To Cario. _)
But tell me, where is Plutus now?

CARIO. He is approaching, escorted by an immense crowd. The rich, whose
wealth is ill-gotten, are knitting their brows and shooting at him looks
of fierce hate, while the just folk, who led a wretched existence,
embrace him and grasp his hand in the transport of their joy; they follow
in his wake, their heads wreathed with garlands, laughing and blessing
their deliverer; the old men make the earth resound as they walk together
keeping time.
Come, all of you, all, down to the very least, dance, leap
and form yourselves into a chorus; no longer do you risk being told, when
you go home, "There is no meal in the bag. "

WIFE. And I, by Hecate! I will string you a garland of cakes for the good
tidings you have brought me.

CARIO. Hurry, make haste then; our friends are close at hand.

WIFE. I will go indoors to fetch some gifts of welcome, to celebrate
these eyes that have just been opened.

CARIO. Meantime I am going forth to meet them.

CHORUS. [_Missing. _]

PLUTUS. I adore thee, oh! thou divine sun, and thee I greet thou city,
the beloved of Pallas; be welcome, thou land of Cecrops, which hast
received me. Alas! what manner of men I associated with! I blush to think
of it. While, on the other hand, I shunned those who deserved my
friendship; I knew neither the vices of the ones nor the virtues of the
others. A twofold mistake, and in both cases equally fatal! Ah! what a
misfortune was mine! But I want to change everything; and in future I
mean to prove to mankind that, if I gave to the wicked, 'twas against my
will.

CHREMYLUS (_to the crowd who impede him_). Get you gone! Oh! what a lot
of friends spring into being when you are fortunate! They dig me with
their elbows and bruise my shins to prove their affection. Each one wants
to greet me. What a crowd of old fellows thronged round me on the
market-place!

WIFE. Oh! thou, who art dearest of all to me, and thou too, be welcome!
Allow me, Plutus, to shower these gifts of welcome over you in due accord
with custom.

PLUTUS. No. This is the first house I enter after having regained my
sight; I shall take nothing from it, for 'tis my place rather to give.

WIFE. Do you refuse these gifts?

PLUTUS. I will accept them at your fireside, as custom requires. Besides,
we shall thus avoid a ridiculous scene; it is not meet that the poet
should throw dried figs and dainties to the spectators; 'tis a vulgar
trick to make 'em laugh.

WIFE. You are right. Look! yonder's Dexinicus, who was already getting to
his feet to catch the figs as they flew past him. [787]

CHORUS. [_Missing_. ]

CARIO. How pleasant it is, friends, to live well, especially when it
costs nothing! What a deluge of blessings flood our household, and that
too without our having wronged ever a soul! Ah! what a delightful thing
is wealth! The bin is full of white flour and the wine-jars run over with
fragrant liquor; all the chests are crammed with gold and silver, 'tis a
sight to see; the tank is full of oil,[788] the phials with perfumes, and
the garret with dried figs. Vinegar flasks, plates, stew-pots and all the
platters are of brass; our rotten old wooden trenchers for the fish have
to-day become dishes of silver; the very night-commode is of ivory. We
others, the slaves, we play at odd and even with gold pieces, and carry
luxury so far that we no longer wipe ourselves with stones, but use
garlic stalks instead. My master, at this moment, is crowned with flowers
and sacrificing a pig, a goat and a ram;[789] 'tis the smoke that has
driven me out, for I could no longer endure it, it hurt my eyes so.

A JUST MAN. Come, my child, come with me. Let us go and find the god.

CHREMYLUS. Who comes here?

JUST MAN. A man who was once wretched, but now is happy.

CHREMYLUS. A just man then?

JUST MAN. You have it.

CHREMYLUS. Well! what do you want?

JUST MAN. I come to thank the god for all the blessings he has showered
on me. My father had left me a fairly decent fortune, and I helped those
of my friends who were in want; 'twas, to my thinking, the most useful
thing I could do with my fortune.

CHREMYLUS. And you were quickly ruined?

JUST MAN. Entirely.

CHREMYLUS. Since then you have been living in misery?

JUST MAN. In truth I have; I thought I could count, in case of need, upon
the friends whose property I had helped, but they turned their backs upon
me and pretended not to see me.

CHREMYLUS. They laughed at you, 'tis evident.

JUST MAN. Just so. With my empty coffers, I had no more friends.

CHREMYLUS. But your lot has changed.

JUST MAN. Yes, and so I come to the god to make him the acts of gratitude
that are his due.

CHREMYLUS. But with what object now do you bring this old cloak, which
your slave is carrying? Tell me.

JUST MAN. I wish to dedicate it to the god. [790]

CHREMYLUS. Were you initiated into the Great Mysteries in that
cloak? [791]

JUST MAN. No, but I shivered in it for thirteen years.

CHREMYLUS. And this footwear?

JUST MAN. These also are my winter companions.

CHREMYLUS. And you wish to dedicate them too?

JUST MAN. Unquestionably.

CHREMYLUS. Fine presents to offer to the god!

AN INFORMER. Alas! alas! I am a lost man. Ah! thrice, four, five, twelve
times, or rather ten thousand times unhappy fate! Why, why must fortune
deal me such rough blows?

CHREMYLUS. Oh, Apollo, my tutelary! oh! ye favourable gods! what has
overtaken this man?

INFORMER. Ah! am I not deserving of pity? I have lost everything; this
cursed god has stripped me bare. Ah! if there be justice in heaven, he
shall be struck blind again.

JUST MAN. Methinks I know what's the matter. If this man is unfortunate,
'tis because he's of little account and small honesty; and i' faith he
looks it too.

CHREMYLUS. Then, by Zeus! his plight is but just.

INFORMER. He promised that if he recovered his sight, he would enrich us
all unaided; whereas he has ruined more than one.

CHREMYLUS. But whom has he thus ill-used?

INFORMER. Me.

CHREMYLUS. You were doubtless a villainous thief then.

INFORMER (_to Chremylus and Cario_). 'Tis rather you yourselves who were
such wretches; I am certain you have got my money.

CHREMYLUS. Ha! by Demeter! 'tis an informer. What impudence!

CARIO. He's ravenously hungry, that's certain.

INFORMER. You shall follow me this very instant to the marketplace, where
the torture of the wheel shall force the confession of your misdeeds from
you.

CARIO. Ha! look out for yourself!

JUST MAN. By Zeus the Deliverer, what gratitude all Greeks owe to Plutus,
if he destroys these vile informers!

INFORMER. You are laughing at me. Ho! ho! I denounce you as their
accomplice. Where did you steal that new cloak from? Yesterday I saw you
with one utterly worn out.

JUST MAN. I fear you not, thanks to this ring, for which I paid
Eudemus[792] a drachma.

CHREMYLUS. Ah! there's no ring to preserve you from the informer's bite.

INFORMER. The insolent wretches! But, my fine jokers, you have not told
me what you are up to here. Nothing good, I'll be bound.

CHREMYLUS. Nothing of any good for you, be sure of that.

INFORMER. By Zeus! you're going to dine at my expense!

CHREMYLUS. You vile impostor, may you burst with an empty belly, both you
and your witness.

INFORMER. You deny it? I reckon, you villians, that there is much salt
fish and roast meat in this house. Hu! hu! hu! hu! hu! hu! (_He sniffs. _)

CHREMYLUS. Can you smell anything, rascal?

INFORMER. Can such outrages be borne, oh, Zeus! Ye gods! how cruel it is
to see me treated thus, when I am such an honest fellow and such a good
citizen!

CHREMYLUS. You an honest man! you a good citizen!

INFORMER.