Come friend, have
courage and let yourself slide down while you invoke your country's gods.
courage and let yourself slide down while you invoke your country's gods.
Aristophanes
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. Oh, Cecrops, mighty hero with the tail of a dragon! Seest
thou how these barbarians ill-use me--me, who have many a time made them
weep a full bushel of tears?
CHORUS. Is not old age filled with cruel ills? What violence these two
slaves offer to their old master! they have forgotten all bygones, the
fur-coats and the jackets and the caps he bought for them; in winter he
watched that their feet should not get frozen. And only see them now;
there is no gentleness in their look nor any recollection of the slippers
of other days.
PHILOCLEON. Will you let me go, you accursed animal? Don't you remember
the day when I surprised you stealing the grapes; I tied you to an
olive-tree and I cut open your bottom with such vigorous lashes that
folks thought you had been pedicated. Get away, you are ungrateful. But
let go of me, and you too, before my son comes up.
CHORUS. You shall repay us for all this and 'twill not be long first.
Tremble at our ferocious glance; you shall taste our just anger.
BDELYCLEON. Strike! strike, Xanthias! Drive these wasps away from the
house.
XANTHIAS. That's just what I am doing; but do you smoke them out
thoroughly too.
SOSIAS. You will not go? The plague seize you! Will you not clear off?
Xanthias, strike them with your stick!
XANTHIAS. And you, to smoke them out better, throw Aeschinus, the son of
Selartius, on the fire. Ah! we were bound to drive you off in the end.
BDELYCLEON. Eh! by Zeus! you would not have put them to flight so easily
if they had fed on the verses of Philocles.
CHORUS. It is clear to all the poor that tyranny has attacked us sorely.
Proud emulator of Amynias, you, who only take pleasure in doing ill, see
how you are preventing us from obeying the laws of the city; you do not
even seek a pretext or any plausible excuse, but claim to rule alone.
BDELYCLEON. Hold! A truce to all blows and brawling! Had we not better
confer together and come to some understanding?
CHORUS. Confer with you, the people's foe! with you, a royalist, the
accomplice of Brasidas! [61] with you, who wear woollen fringes on your
cloak and let your beard grow!
BDELYCLEON. Ah! it were better to separate altogether from my father than
to steer my boat daily through such stormy seas!
CHORUS. Oh! you have but reached the parsley and the rue, to use the
common saying. [62] What you are suffering is nothing! but welcome the
hour when the advocate shall adduce all these same arguments against you
and shall summon your accomplices to give witness.
BDELYCLEON. In the name of the gods! withdraw or we shall fight you the
whole day long.
CHORUS. No, not as long as I retain an atom of breath. Ha! your desire is
to tyrannize over us!
BDELYCLEON. Everything is now tyranny with us, no matter what is
concerned, whether it be large or small. Tyranny! I have not heard the
word mentioned once in fifty years, and now it is more common than
salt-fish, the word is even current on the market. If you are buying
gurnards and don't want anchovies, the huckster next door, who is selling
the latter, at once exclaims, "That is a man, whose kitchen savours of
tyranny! " If you ask for onions to season your fish, the green-stuff
woman winks one eye and asks, "Ha! you ask for onions! are you seeking to
tyrannize, or do you think that Athens must pay you your seasonings as a
tribute? "
XANTHIAS. Yesterday I went to see a gay girl about noon and suggested she
should mount and ride me; she flew into a rage, pretending I wanted to
restore the tyranny of Hippias. [63]
BDELYCLEON. That's the talk that pleases the people! As for myself, I
want my father to lead a joyous life like Morychus[64] instead of going
away before dawn to basely calumniate and condemn; and for this I am
accused of conspiracy and tyrannical practice!
PHILOCLEON. And quite right too, by Zeus! The most exquisite dishes do
not make up to me for the life of which you deprive me. I scorn your red
mullet and your eels, and would far rather eat a nice little law suitlet
cooked in the pot.
BDELYCLEON. 'Tis because you have got used to seeking your pleasure in
it; but if you will agree to keep silence and hear me, I think I could
persuade you that you deceive yourself altogether.
PHILOCLEON. _I_ deceive myself, when I am judging?
BDELYCLEON. You do not see that you are the laughing-stock of these men,
whom you are ready to worship. You are their slave and do not know it.
PHILOCLEON. _I_ a slave, I, who lord it over all!
BDELYCLEON. Not at all, you think you are ruling when you are only
obeying. Tell me, father, what do you get out of the tribute paid by so
many Greek towns?
PHILOCLEON. Much, and I appoint my colleagues jurymen.
BDELYCLEON. And I also. Release him, all of you, and bring me a sword. If
my arguments do not prevail I will fall upon this blade. As for you, tell
me whether you accept the verdict of the Court.
PHILOCLEON. May I never drink my Heliast's pay in honour of the good
Genius, if I do not.
CHORUS. Tis now we have to draw upon our arsenal for some fresh weapon;
above all do not side with this youth in his opinions. You see how
serious the question has become; 'twill be all over with us, which the
gods forfend, if he should prevail.
BDELYCLEON. Let someone bring me my tablets with all speed!
CHORUS. Your tablets? Ha, ha! what an importance you would fain assume!
BDELYCLEON. I merely wish to note down my father's points.
PHILOCLEON. But what will you say of it, if he should triumph in the
debate?
CHORUS. That old men are no longer good for anything; we shall be
perpetually laughed at in the streets, shall be called thallophores,[65]
mere brief-bags. You are to be the champion of all our rights and
sovereignty. Come, take courage! Bring into action all the resources of
your wit.
PHILOCLEON. At the outset I will prove to you that there exists no king
whose might is greater than ours. Is there a pleasure, a blessing
comparable with that of a juryman? Is there a being who lives more in the
midst of delights, who is more feared, aged though he be? From the moment
I leave my bed, men of power, the most illustrious in the city, await me
at the bar of the tribunal; the moment I am seen from the greatest
distance, they come forward to offer me a gentle hand,--that has pilfered
the public funds; they entreat me, bowing right low and with a piteous
voice, "Oh! father," they say, "pity me, I adjure you by the profit _you_
were able to make in the public service or in the army, when dealing with
the victuals. " Why, the man who thus speaks would not know of my
existence, had I not let him off on some former occasion.
BDELYCLEON. Let us note this first point, the supplicants.
PHILOCLEON. These entreaties have appeased my wrath, and I enter--firmly
resolved to do nothing that I have promised. Nevertheless I listen to the
accused. Oh! what tricks to secure acquittal!
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. Oh, Cecrops, mighty hero with the tail of a dragon! Seest
thou how these barbarians ill-use me--me, who have many a time made them
weep a full bushel of tears?
CHORUS. Is not old age filled with cruel ills? What violence these two
slaves offer to their old master! they have forgotten all bygones, the
fur-coats and the jackets and the caps he bought for them; in winter he
watched that their feet should not get frozen. And only see them now;
there is no gentleness in their look nor any recollection of the slippers
of other days.
PHILOCLEON. Will you let me go, you accursed animal? Don't you remember
the day when I surprised you stealing the grapes; I tied you to an
olive-tree and I cut open your bottom with such vigorous lashes that
folks thought you had been pedicated. Get away, you are ungrateful. But
let go of me, and you too, before my son comes up.
CHORUS. You shall repay us for all this and 'twill not be long first.
Tremble at our ferocious glance; you shall taste our just anger.
BDELYCLEON. Strike! strike, Xanthias! Drive these wasps away from the
house.
XANTHIAS. That's just what I am doing; but do you smoke them out
thoroughly too.
SOSIAS. You will not go? The plague seize you! Will you not clear off?
Xanthias, strike them with your stick!
XANTHIAS. And you, to smoke them out better, throw Aeschinus, the son of
Selartius, on the fire. Ah! we were bound to drive you off in the end.
BDELYCLEON. Eh! by Zeus! you would not have put them to flight so easily
if they had fed on the verses of Philocles.
CHORUS. It is clear to all the poor that tyranny has attacked us sorely.
Proud emulator of Amynias, you, who only take pleasure in doing ill, see
how you are preventing us from obeying the laws of the city; you do not
even seek a pretext or any plausible excuse, but claim to rule alone.
BDELYCLEON. Hold! A truce to all blows and brawling! Had we not better
confer together and come to some understanding?
CHORUS. Confer with you, the people's foe! with you, a royalist, the
accomplice of Brasidas! [61] with you, who wear woollen fringes on your
cloak and let your beard grow!
BDELYCLEON. Ah! it were better to separate altogether from my father than
to steer my boat daily through such stormy seas!
CHORUS. Oh! you have but reached the parsley and the rue, to use the
common saying. [62] What you are suffering is nothing! but welcome the
hour when the advocate shall adduce all these same arguments against you
and shall summon your accomplices to give witness.
BDELYCLEON. In the name of the gods! withdraw or we shall fight you the
whole day long.
CHORUS. No, not as long as I retain an atom of breath. Ha! your desire is
to tyrannize over us!
BDELYCLEON. Everything is now tyranny with us, no matter what is
concerned, whether it be large or small. Tyranny! I have not heard the
word mentioned once in fifty years, and now it is more common than
salt-fish, the word is even current on the market. If you are buying
gurnards and don't want anchovies, the huckster next door, who is selling
the latter, at once exclaims, "That is a man, whose kitchen savours of
tyranny! " If you ask for onions to season your fish, the green-stuff
woman winks one eye and asks, "Ha! you ask for onions! are you seeking to
tyrannize, or do you think that Athens must pay you your seasonings as a
tribute? "
XANTHIAS. Yesterday I went to see a gay girl about noon and suggested she
should mount and ride me; she flew into a rage, pretending I wanted to
restore the tyranny of Hippias. [63]
BDELYCLEON. That's the talk that pleases the people! As for myself, I
want my father to lead a joyous life like Morychus[64] instead of going
away before dawn to basely calumniate and condemn; and for this I am
accused of conspiracy and tyrannical practice!
PHILOCLEON. And quite right too, by Zeus! The most exquisite dishes do
not make up to me for the life of which you deprive me. I scorn your red
mullet and your eels, and would far rather eat a nice little law suitlet
cooked in the pot.
BDELYCLEON. 'Tis because you have got used to seeking your pleasure in
it; but if you will agree to keep silence and hear me, I think I could
persuade you that you deceive yourself altogether.
PHILOCLEON. _I_ deceive myself, when I am judging?
BDELYCLEON. You do not see that you are the laughing-stock of these men,
whom you are ready to worship. You are their slave and do not know it.
PHILOCLEON. _I_ a slave, I, who lord it over all!
BDELYCLEON. Not at all, you think you are ruling when you are only
obeying. Tell me, father, what do you get out of the tribute paid by so
many Greek towns?
PHILOCLEON. Much, and I appoint my colleagues jurymen.
BDELYCLEON. And I also. Release him, all of you, and bring me a sword. If
my arguments do not prevail I will fall upon this blade. As for you, tell
me whether you accept the verdict of the Court.
PHILOCLEON. May I never drink my Heliast's pay in honour of the good
Genius, if I do not.
CHORUS. Tis now we have to draw upon our arsenal for some fresh weapon;
above all do not side with this youth in his opinions. You see how
serious the question has become; 'twill be all over with us, which the
gods forfend, if he should prevail.
BDELYCLEON. Let someone bring me my tablets with all speed!
CHORUS. Your tablets? Ha, ha! what an importance you would fain assume!
BDELYCLEON. I merely wish to note down my father's points.
PHILOCLEON. But what will you say of it, if he should triumph in the
debate?
CHORUS. That old men are no longer good for anything; we shall be
perpetually laughed at in the streets, shall be called thallophores,[65]
mere brief-bags. You are to be the champion of all our rights and
sovereignty. Come, take courage! Bring into action all the resources of
your wit.
PHILOCLEON. At the outset I will prove to you that there exists no king
whose might is greater than ours. Is there a pleasure, a blessing
comparable with that of a juryman? Is there a being who lives more in the
midst of delights, who is more feared, aged though he be? From the moment
I leave my bed, men of power, the most illustrious in the city, await me
at the bar of the tribunal; the moment I am seen from the greatest
distance, they come forward to offer me a gentle hand,--that has pilfered
the public funds; they entreat me, bowing right low and with a piteous
voice, "Oh! father," they say, "pity me, I adjure you by the profit _you_
were able to make in the public service or in the army, when dealing with
the victuals. " Why, the man who thus speaks would not know of my
existence, had I not let him off on some former occasion.
BDELYCLEON. Let us note this first point, the supplicants.
PHILOCLEON. These entreaties have appeased my wrath, and I enter--firmly
resolved to do nothing that I have promised. Nevertheless I listen to the
accused. Oh! what tricks to secure acquittal!
