'Tis a gull with beak wide open,
haranguing
from the top
of a stone.
of a stone.
Aristophanes
great gods!
I am undone!
At home this old fellow is
the most sensible of men, but the instant he is seated on those cursed
stone seats,[85] he is there with mouth agape as if he were hanging up
figs by their stems to dry.
CHORUS. Come, loose all sail. Be bold, skilful in attack and entangle him
in arguments which admit of no reply. It is difficult to beat him, for he
is full of craft and pulls himself out of the worst corners. Collect all
your forces to come forth from this fight covered with glory, but take
care! Let him not assume the attack, get ready your grapples and advance
with your vessel to board him!
CLEON. Oh! guardian goddess of our city! oh! Athene! if it be true that
next to Lysicles, Cynna and Salabaccha[86] none have done so much good
for the Athenian people as I, suffer me to continue to be fed at the
Prytaneum without working; but if I hate you, if I am not ready to fight
in your defence alone and against all, may I perish, be sawn to bits
alive and my skin be cut up into thongs.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, Demos, if it be not true, that I love and cherish
you, may I be cooked in a stew; and if that is not saying enough, may I
be grated on this table with some cheese and then hashed, may a hook be
passed through my testicles and let me be dragged thus to the
Ceramicus! [87]
CLEON. Is it possible, Demos, to love you more than I do? And firstly, as
long as you have governed with my consent, have I not filled your
treasury, putting pressure on some, torturing others or begging of them,
indifferent to the opinion of private individuals, and solely anxious to
please you?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. There is nothing so wonderful in all that, Demos; I will
do as much; I will thieve the bread of others to serve up to you. No, he
has neither love for you nor kindly feeling; his only care is to warm
himself with your wood, and I will prove it. You, who, sword in hand,
saved Attica from the Median yoke at Marathon; you, whose glorious
triumphs we love to extol unceasingly, look, he cares little whether he
sees you seated uncomfortably upon a stone; whereas I, I bring you this
cushion, which I have sewn with my own hands. Rise and try this nice soft
seat. Did you not put enough strain on your breeches at Salamis? [88]
DEMOS. Who are you then? Can you be of the race of Harmodius? [89] Upon my
faith, 'tis nobly done and like a true friend of Demos.
CLEON. Petty flattery to prove him your goodwill!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. But you have caught him with even smaller baits!
CLEON. Never had Demos a defender or a friend more devoted than myself;
on my head, on my life, I swear it!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. You pretend to love him and for eight years you have seen
him housed in casks, in crevices and dovecots,[90] where he is blinded
with the smoke, and you lock him in without pity; Archeptolemus brought
peace and you tore it to ribbons; the envoys who come to propose a truce
you drive from the city with kicks in their backsides.
CLEON. This is that Demos may rule over all the Greeks; for the oracles
predict that, if he is patient, he must one day sit as judge in Arcadia
at five obols per day. Meanwhile, I will nourish him, look after him and,
above all, I will ensure to him his three obols.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, little you care for his reigning in Arcadia, 'tis to
pillage and impose on the allies at will that you reckon; you wish the
War to conceal your rogueries as in a mist, that Demos may see nothing of
them, and harassed by cares, may only depend on yourself for his bread.
But if ever peace is restored to him, if ever he returns to his lands to
comfort himself once more with good cakes, to greet his cherished olives,
he will know the blessings you have kept him out of, even though paying
him a salary; and, filled with hatred and rage, he will rise, burning
with desire to vote against you. You know this only too well; 'tis for
this you rock him to sleep with your lies.
CLEON. Is it not shameful, that you should dare thus to calumniate me
before Demos, me, to whom Athens, I swear it by Demeter, already owes
more than it ever did to Themistocles?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh! citizens of Argos, do you hear what he says? [91] You
dare to compare yourself to Themistocles, who found our city half empty
and left it full to overflowing, who one day gave us the Piraeus for
dinner,[92] and added fresh fish to all our usual meals. [93] You, on the
contrary, you, who compare yourself with Themistocles, have only sought
to reduce our city in size, to shut it within its walls, to chant oracles
to us. And Themistocles goes into exile, while you gorge yourself on the
most excellent fare.
CLEON. Oh! Demos! Am I compelled to hear myself thus abused, and merely
because I love you?
DEMOS. Silence! stop your abuse! All too long have I been your tool.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! my dear little Demos, he is a rogue, who has played
you many a scurvy trick; when your back is turned, he taps at the root
the lawsuits initiated by the peculators, swallows the proceeds wholesale
and helps himself with both hands from the public funds.
CLEON. Tremble, knave; I will convict you of having stolen thirty
thousand drachmae.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. For a rascal of your kidney, you shout rarely! Well! I am
ready to die if I do not prove that you have accepted more than forty
minae from the Mitylenaeans. [94]
CHORUS. This indeed may be termed talking. Oh, benefactor of the human
race, proceed and you will be the most illustrious of the Greeks. You
alone shall have sway in Athens, the allies will obey you, and, trident
in hand, you will go about shaking and overturning everything to enrich
yourself. But, stick to your man, let him not go; with lungs like yours
you will soon have him finished.
CLEON. No, my brave friends, no, you are running too fast; I have done a
sufficiently brilliant deed to shut the mouth of all enemies, so long as
one of the bucklers of Pylos remains.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Of the bucklers! Hold! I stop you there and I hold you
fast. For if it be true, that you love the people, you would not allow
these to be hung up with their rings;[95] but 'tis with an intent you
have done this. Demos, take knowledge of his guilty purpose; in this way
you no longer can punish him at your pleasure. Note the swarm of young
tanners, who really surround him, and close to them the sellers of honey
and cheese; all these are at one with him. Very well! you have but to
frown, to speak of ostracism and they will rush at night to these
bucklers, take them down and seize our granaries.
DEMOS. Great gods! what! the bucklers retain their rings! Scoundrel! ah!
too long have you had me for your tool, cheated and played with me!
CLEON. But, dear sir, never you believe all he tells you. Oh! never will
you find a more devoted friend than me; unaided, I have known how to put
down the conspiracies; nothing that is a-hatching in the city escapes me,
and I hasten to proclaim it loudly.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. You are like the fishers for eels; in still waters they
catch nothing, but if they thoroughly stir up the slime, their fishing is
good; in the same way 'tis only in troublous times that you line your
pockets. But come, tell me, you, who sell so many skins, have you ever
made him a present of a pair of soles for his slippers? and you pretend
to love him!
DEMOS. No, he has never given me any.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That alone shows up the man; but I, I have bought you
this pair of shoes; accept them.
DEMOS. None ever, to my knowledge, has merited so much from the people;
you are the most zealous of all men for your country and for my toes.
CLEON. Can a wretched pair of slippers make you forget all that you owe
me? Is it not I who curbed Gryttus,[96] the filthiest of the lewd, by
depriving him of his citizen rights?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! noble inspector of back passages, let me congratulate
you. Moreover, if you set yourself against this form of lewdness, this
pederasty, 'twas for sheer jealousy, knowing it to be the school for
orators. [97] But you see this poor Demos without a cloak and that at his
age too! so little do you care for him, that in mid-winter you have not
given him a garment with sleeves. Here, Demos, here is one, take it!
DEMOS. This even Themistocles never thought of; the Piraeus was no doubt
a happy idea, but meseems this tunic is quite as fine an invention.
CLEON. Must you have recourse to such jackanapes' tricks to supplant me?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, 'tis your own tricks that I am borrowing, just as a
guest, driven by urgent need, seizes some other man's shoes. [98]
CLEON. Oh! 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.
the most sensible of men, but the instant he is seated on those cursed
stone seats,[85] he is there with mouth agape as if he were hanging up
figs by their stems to dry.
CHORUS. Come, loose all sail. Be bold, skilful in attack and entangle him
in arguments which admit of no reply. It is difficult to beat him, for he
is full of craft and pulls himself out of the worst corners. Collect all
your forces to come forth from this fight covered with glory, but take
care! Let him not assume the attack, get ready your grapples and advance
with your vessel to board him!
CLEON. Oh! guardian goddess of our city! oh! Athene! if it be true that
next to Lysicles, Cynna and Salabaccha[86] none have done so much good
for the Athenian people as I, suffer me to continue to be fed at the
Prytaneum without working; but if I hate you, if I am not ready to fight
in your defence alone and against all, may I perish, be sawn to bits
alive and my skin be cut up into thongs.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, Demos, if it be not true, that I love and cherish
you, may I be cooked in a stew; and if that is not saying enough, may I
be grated on this table with some cheese and then hashed, may a hook be
passed through my testicles and let me be dragged thus to the
Ceramicus! [87]
CLEON. Is it possible, Demos, to love you more than I do? And firstly, as
long as you have governed with my consent, have I not filled your
treasury, putting pressure on some, torturing others or begging of them,
indifferent to the opinion of private individuals, and solely anxious to
please you?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. There is nothing so wonderful in all that, Demos; I will
do as much; I will thieve the bread of others to serve up to you. No, he
has neither love for you nor kindly feeling; his only care is to warm
himself with your wood, and I will prove it. You, who, sword in hand,
saved Attica from the Median yoke at Marathon; you, whose glorious
triumphs we love to extol unceasingly, look, he cares little whether he
sees you seated uncomfortably upon a stone; whereas I, I bring you this
cushion, which I have sewn with my own hands. Rise and try this nice soft
seat. Did you not put enough strain on your breeches at Salamis? [88]
DEMOS. Who are you then? Can you be of the race of Harmodius? [89] Upon my
faith, 'tis nobly done and like a true friend of Demos.
CLEON. Petty flattery to prove him your goodwill!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. But you have caught him with even smaller baits!
CLEON. Never had Demos a defender or a friend more devoted than myself;
on my head, on my life, I swear it!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. You pretend to love him and for eight years you have seen
him housed in casks, in crevices and dovecots,[90] where he is blinded
with the smoke, and you lock him in without pity; Archeptolemus brought
peace and you tore it to ribbons; the envoys who come to propose a truce
you drive from the city with kicks in their backsides.
CLEON. This is that Demos may rule over all the Greeks; for the oracles
predict that, if he is patient, he must one day sit as judge in Arcadia
at five obols per day. Meanwhile, I will nourish him, look after him and,
above all, I will ensure to him his three obols.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, little you care for his reigning in Arcadia, 'tis to
pillage and impose on the allies at will that you reckon; you wish the
War to conceal your rogueries as in a mist, that Demos may see nothing of
them, and harassed by cares, may only depend on yourself for his bread.
But if ever peace is restored to him, if ever he returns to his lands to
comfort himself once more with good cakes, to greet his cherished olives,
he will know the blessings you have kept him out of, even though paying
him a salary; and, filled with hatred and rage, he will rise, burning
with desire to vote against you. You know this only too well; 'tis for
this you rock him to sleep with your lies.
CLEON. Is it not shameful, that you should dare thus to calumniate me
before Demos, me, to whom Athens, I swear it by Demeter, already owes
more than it ever did to Themistocles?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh! citizens of Argos, do you hear what he says? [91] You
dare to compare yourself to Themistocles, who found our city half empty
and left it full to overflowing, who one day gave us the Piraeus for
dinner,[92] and added fresh fish to all our usual meals. [93] You, on the
contrary, you, who compare yourself with Themistocles, have only sought
to reduce our city in size, to shut it within its walls, to chant oracles
to us. And Themistocles goes into exile, while you gorge yourself on the
most excellent fare.
CLEON. Oh! Demos! Am I compelled to hear myself thus abused, and merely
because I love you?
DEMOS. Silence! stop your abuse! All too long have I been your tool.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! my dear little Demos, he is a rogue, who has played
you many a scurvy trick; when your back is turned, he taps at the root
the lawsuits initiated by the peculators, swallows the proceeds wholesale
and helps himself with both hands from the public funds.
CLEON. Tremble, knave; I will convict you of having stolen thirty
thousand drachmae.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. For a rascal of your kidney, you shout rarely! Well! I am
ready to die if I do not prove that you have accepted more than forty
minae from the Mitylenaeans. [94]
CHORUS. This indeed may be termed talking. Oh, benefactor of the human
race, proceed and you will be the most illustrious of the Greeks. You
alone shall have sway in Athens, the allies will obey you, and, trident
in hand, you will go about shaking and overturning everything to enrich
yourself. But, stick to your man, let him not go; with lungs like yours
you will soon have him finished.
CLEON. No, my brave friends, no, you are running too fast; I have done a
sufficiently brilliant deed to shut the mouth of all enemies, so long as
one of the bucklers of Pylos remains.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Of the bucklers! Hold! I stop you there and I hold you
fast. For if it be true, that you love the people, you would not allow
these to be hung up with their rings;[95] but 'tis with an intent you
have done this. Demos, take knowledge of his guilty purpose; in this way
you no longer can punish him at your pleasure. Note the swarm of young
tanners, who really surround him, and close to them the sellers of honey
and cheese; all these are at one with him. Very well! you have but to
frown, to speak of ostracism and they will rush at night to these
bucklers, take them down and seize our granaries.
DEMOS. Great gods! what! the bucklers retain their rings! Scoundrel! ah!
too long have you had me for your tool, cheated and played with me!
CLEON. But, dear sir, never you believe all he tells you. Oh! never will
you find a more devoted friend than me; unaided, I have known how to put
down the conspiracies; nothing that is a-hatching in the city escapes me,
and I hasten to proclaim it loudly.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. You are like the fishers for eels; in still waters they
catch nothing, but if they thoroughly stir up the slime, their fishing is
good; in the same way 'tis only in troublous times that you line your
pockets. But come, tell me, you, who sell so many skins, have you ever
made him a present of a pair of soles for his slippers? and you pretend
to love him!
DEMOS. No, he has never given me any.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That alone shows up the man; but I, I have bought you
this pair of shoes; accept them.
DEMOS. None ever, to my knowledge, has merited so much from the people;
you are the most zealous of all men for your country and for my toes.
CLEON. Can a wretched pair of slippers make you forget all that you owe
me? Is it not I who curbed Gryttus,[96] the filthiest of the lewd, by
depriving him of his citizen rights?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! noble inspector of back passages, let me congratulate
you. Moreover, if you set yourself against this form of lewdness, this
pederasty, 'twas for sheer jealousy, knowing it to be the school for
orators. [97] But you see this poor Demos without a cloak and that at his
age too! so little do you care for him, that in mid-winter you have not
given him a garment with sleeves. Here, Demos, here is one, take it!
DEMOS. This even Themistocles never thought of; the Piraeus was no doubt
a happy idea, but meseems this tunic is quite as fine an invention.
CLEON. Must you have recourse to such jackanapes' tricks to supplant me?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, 'tis your own tricks that I am borrowing, just as a
guest, driven by urgent need, seizes some other man's shoes. [98]
CLEON. Oh! 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.
