One would say, 'twas
a hurricane lashing the sea and rolling the waves before it in its fury.
a hurricane lashing the sea and rolling the waves before it in its fury.
Aristophanes
"
And while they stood, their noses in the air, I made off with a piece of
meat.
CHORUS. Oh! most clever man! How well thought out! You did as the eaters
of artichokes, you gathered them before the return of the swallows. [54]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. They could make nothing of it; or, if they suspected a
trick, I hid the meat in my breeches and denied the thing by all the
gods; so that an orator, seeing me at the game, cried, "This child will
get on; he has the mettle that makes a statesman. "
CHORUS. He argued rightly; to steal, perjure yourself and make a receiver
of your rump[55] are three essentials for climbing high.
CLEON. I will stop your insolence, or rather the insolence of both of
you. I will throw myself upon you like a terrible hurricane ravaging both
land and sea at the will of its fury.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Then I will gather up my sausages and entrust myself to
the kindly waves of fortune so as to make you all the more enraged.
DEMOSTHENES. And I will watch in the bilges in case the boat should make
water.
CLEON. No, by Demeter! I swear, 'twill not be with impunity that you have
thieved so many talents from the Athenians. [56]
CHORUS (_to the Sausage-seller_). Oh! oh! reef your sail a bit! Here is
Boreas blowing calumniously.
CLEON. I know that you got ten talents out of Potidaea. [57]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Hold! I will give you one; but keep it dark!
CHORUS. Hah! that will please him mightily; now you can travel under full
sail.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, the wind has lost its violence.
CLEON. I will bring four suits against you, each of one hundred
talents. [58]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I twenty against you for shirking duty and more than
a thousand for robbery.
CLEON. I maintain that your parents were guilty of sacrilege against the
goddess. [59]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, that one of your grandfathers was a satellite. . . .
CLEON. To whom? Explain!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. To Byrsina, the mother of Hippias. [60]
CLEON. You are an impostor.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And you are a rogue.
CHORUS. Hit him hard.
CLEON. Oh, oh, dear! The conspirators are murdering me!
CHORUS. Strike, strike with all your might; bruise his belly, lashing him
with your guts and your tripe; punish him with both arms! Oh! vigorous
assailant and intrepid heart! Have you not routed him totally in this
duel of abuse? how shall I give tongue to my joy and sufficiently praise
you?
CLEON. Ah! by Demeter! I was not ignorant of this plot against me; I knew
it was forming, that the chariot of war was being put together. [61]
CHORUS (_to Sausage-seller_). Look out, look out! Come, outfence him with
some wheelwright slang?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. His tricks at Argos do not escape me. Under pretence of
forming an alliance with the Argives, he is hatching a plot with the
Lacedaemonians there; and I know why the bellows are blowing and the
metal that is on the anvil; 'tis the question of the prisoners.
CHORUS. Well done! Forge on, if he be a wheelwright.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And there are men at Sparta[62] who are hammering the
iron with you; but neither gold nor silver nor prayers nor anything else
shall impede my denouncing your trickery to the Athenians.
CLEON. As for me, I hasten to the Senate to reveal your plotting, your
nightly gatherings in the city, your trafficking with the Medes and with
the Great King, and all you are foraging for in Boeotia. [63]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What price then is paid for forage by Boeotians?
CLEON. Oh! by Heracles! I will tan your hide.
CHORUS. Come, if you have both wit and heart, now is the time to show it,
as on the day when you hid the meat in your breeches, as you say. Hasten
to the Senate, for he will rush there like a tornado to calumniate us all
and give vent to his fearful bellowings.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I am going, but first I must rid myself of my tripe and
my knives; I will leave them here.
CHORUS. Stay! rub your neck with lard; in this way you will slip between
the fingers of calumny.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Spoken like a finished master of fence.
CHORUS. Now, bolt down these cloves of garlic.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Pray, what for?
CHORUS. Well primed with garlic, you will have greater mettle for the
fight. But hurry, hurry, bestir yourself!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That's just what I am doing.
CHORUS. And, above all, bite your foe, rend him to atoms, tear off his
comb[64] and do not return until you have devoured his wattles. Go! make
your attack with a light heart, avenge me and may Zeus guard you! I burn
to see you return the victor and laden with chaplets of glory. And you,
spectators, enlightened critics of all kinds of poetry, lend an ear to my
anapaests. [65]
CHORUS. Had one of the old authors asked to mount this stage to recite
his verses, he would not have found it hard to persuade me. But our poet
of to-day is likewise worthy of this favour; he shares our hatred, he
dares to tell the truth, he boldly braves both waterspouts and
hurricanes. Many among you, he tells us, have expressed wonder, that he
has not long since had a piece presented in his own name, and have asked
the reason why. [66] This is what he bids us say in reply to your
questions; 'tis not without grounds that he has courted the shade, for,
in his opinion, nothing is more difficult than to cultivate the comic
Muse; many court her, but very few secure her favours. Moreover, he knows
that you are fickle by nature and betray your poets when they grow old.
What fate befell Magnes,[67] when his hair went white? Often enough has
he triumphed over his rivals; he has sung in all keys, played the lyre
and fluttered wings; he turned into a Lydian and even into a gnat, daubed
himself with green to become a frog. [68] All in vain! When young, you
applauded him; in his old age you hooted and mocked him, because his
genius for raillery had gone. Cratinus[69] again was like a torrent of
glory rushing across the plain, uprooting oak, plane tree and rivals and
bearing them pell-mell in its wake. The only songs at the banquet were,
'Doro, shod with lying tales' and 'Adepts of the Lyric Muse';[70] so
great was his renown. Look at him now! he drivels, his lyre has neither
strings nor keys, his voice quivers, but you have no pity for him, and
you let him wander about as he can, like Connas,[71] his temples circled
with a withered chaplet; the poor old fellow is dying of thirst; he who,
in honour of his glorious past, should be in the Prytaneum drinking at
his ease, and instead of trudging the country should be sitting amongst
the first row of the spectators, close to the statue of Dionysus[72] and
loaded with perfumes. Crates,[73] again, have you done hounding him with
your rage and your hisses? True, 'twas but meagre fare that his sterile
Muse could offer you; a few ingenious fancies formed the sole
ingredients, but nevertheless he knew how to stand firm and to recover
from his falls. 'Tis such examples that frighten our poet; in addition,
he would tell himself, that before being a pilot, he must first know how
to row, then to keep watch at the prow, after that how to gauge the
winds, and that only then would he be able to command his vessel. [74] If
then you approve this wise caution and his resolve that he would not bore
you with foolish nonsense, raise loud waves of applause in his favour
this day, so that, at this Lenaean feast, the breath of your favour may
swell the sails of his trumphant galley and the poet may withdraw proud
of his success, with head erect and his face beaming with delight.
Posidon, god of the racing steed, I salute you, you who delight in their
neighing and in the resounding clatter of their brass-shod hoofs, god of
the swift galleys, which, loaded with mercenaries, cleave the seas with
their azure beaks, god of the equestrian contests, in which young rivals,
eager for glory, ruin themselves for the sake of distinction with their
chariots in the arena, come and direct our chorus; Posidon with the
trident of gold, you, who reign over the dolphins, who are worshipped at
Sunium and at Geraestus[75] beloved of Phormio,[76] and dear to the whole
city above all the immortals, I salute you!
Let us sing the glory of our forefathers; ever victors, both on land and
sea, they merit that Athens, rendered famous by these, her worthy sons,
should write their deeds upon the sacred peplus. [77] As soon as they saw
the enemy, they at once sprang at him without ever counting his strength.
Should one of them fall in the conflict, he would shake off the dust,
deny his mishap and begin the struggle anew. Not one of these Generals of
old time would have asked Cleaenetus[78] to be fed at the cost of the
state; but our present men refuse to fight, unless they get the honours
of the Prytaneum and precedence in their seats. As for us, we place our
valour gratuitously at the service of Athens and of her gods; our only
hope is, that, should peace ever put a term to our toils, you will not
grudge us our long, scented hair nor our delicate care for our toilet.
Oh! Pallas, guardian of Athens, you, who reign over the most pious city,
the most powerful, the richest in warriors and in poets, hasten to my
call, bringing in your train our faithful ally in all our expeditions and
combats, Victory, who smiles on our choruses and fights with us against
our rivals. Oh! goddess! manifest yourself to our sight; this day more
than ever we deserve that you should ensure our triumph.
We will sing likewise the exploits of our steeds! they are worthy of our
praises;[79] in what invasions, what fights have I not seen them helping
us! But especially admirable were they, when they bravely leapt upon the
galleys, taking nothing with them but a coarse wine, some cloves of
garlic and onions; despite this, they nevertheless seized the sweeps just
like men, curved their backs over the thwarts and shouted, "Hippopopoh!
Give way! Come, all pull together! Come, come! How! Samphoras! [80] Are
you not rowing? " They rushed down upon the coast of Corinth, and the
youngest hollowed out beds in the sand with their hoofs or went to fetch
coverings; instead of luzern, they had no food but crabs, which they
caught on the strand and even in the sea; so that Theorus causes a
Corinthian[81] crab to say, "'Tis a cruel fate, oh Posidon! neither my
deep hiding-places, whether on land or at sea, can help me to escape the
Knights. "
Welcome, oh, dearest and bravest of men! How distracted I have been
during your absence! But here you are back, safe and sound. Tell us about
the fight you have had.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. The important thing is that I have beaten the Senate. [82]
CHORUS. All glory to you! Let us burst into shouts of joy! You speak
well, but your deeds are even better. Come, tell me everything in detail;
what a long journey would I not be ready to take to hear your tale! Come,
dear friend, speak with full confidence to your admirers.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. The story is worth hearing. Listen! From here I rushed
straight to the Senate, right in the track of this man; he was already
letting loose the storm, unchaining the lightning, crushing the Knights
beneath huge mountains of calumnies heaped together and having all the
air of truth; he called you conspirators and his lies caught root like
weeds in every mind; dark were the looks on every side and brows were
knitted. When I saw that the Senate listened to him favourably and was
being tricked by his imposture, I said to myself, "Come, gods of rascals
and braggarts, gods of all fools, toad-eaters and braggarts and thou,
market-place, where I was bred from my earliest days, give me unbridled
audacity, an untiring chatter and a shameless voice. " No sooner had I
ended this prayer than a lewd man broke wind on my right. "Hah! 'tis a
good omen," said I, and prostrated myself; then I burst open the door by
a vigorous push with my back, and, opening my mouth to the utmost,
shouted, "Senators, I wanted you to be the first to hear the good news;
since the War broke out, I have never seen anchovies at a lower price! "
All faces brightened at once and I was voted a chaplet for my good
tidings; and I added, "With a couple of words I will reveal to you, how
you can have quantities of anchovies for an obol; 'tis to seize on all
the dishes the merchants have. " With mouths gaping with admiration, they
applauded me. However, the Paphlagonian winded the matter and, well
knowing the sort of language which pleases the Senate best, said,
"Friends, I am resolved to offer one hundred oxen to the goddess in
recognition of this happy event. " The Senate at once veered to his side.
So when I saw myself defeated by this ox filth, I outbade the fellow,
crying, "Two hundred! " And beyond this I moved, that a vow be made to
Diana of a thousand goats if the next day anchovies should only be worth
an obol a hundred. And the Senate looked towards me again. The other,
stunned with the blow, grew delirious in his speech, and at last the
Prytanes and the guards dragged him out. The Senators then stood talking
noisily about the anchovies. Cleon, however, begged them to listen to the
Lacedaemonian envoy, who had come to make proposals of peace; but all
with one accord, cried, "'Tis certainly not the moment to think of peace
now! If anchovies are so cheap, what need have we of peace? Let the war
take its course! " And with loud shouts they demanded that the Prytanes
should close the sitting and then leapt over the rails in all directions.
As for me, I slipped away to buy all the coriander seed and leeks there
were on the market and gave it to them gratis as seasoning for their
anchovies. 'Twas marvellous! They loaded me with praises and caresses;
thus I conquered the Senate with an obol's worth of leeks, and here I am.
CHORUS. Bravo! you are the spoilt child of Fortune. Ah! our knave has
found his match in another, who has far better tricks in his sack, a
thousand kinds of knaveries and of wily words. But the fight begins
afresh; take care not to weaken; you know that I have long been your most
faithful ally.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! ah! here comes the Paphlagonian!
One would say, 'twas
a hurricane lashing the sea and rolling the waves before it in its fury.
He looks as if he wanted to swallow me up alive! Ye gods! what an
impudent knave!
CLEON. To my aid, my beloved lies! I am going to destroy you, or my name
is lost.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh! how he diverts me with his threats! His bluster makes
me laugh! And I dance the _mothon_ for joy,[83] and sing at the top of my
voice, cuckoo!
CLEON. Ah! by Demeter! if I do not kill and devour you, may I die!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. If you do not devour me? and I, if I do not drink your
blood to the last drop, and then burst with indigestion.
CLEON. I, I will strangle you, I swear it by the precedence which Pylos
gained me.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. By the precedence! Ah! might I see you fall from your
precedence into the hindmost seat!
CLEON. By heaven! I will put you to the torture.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What a lively wit! Come, what's the best to give you to
eat? What do you prefer? A purse?
CLEON. I will tear out your inside with my nails.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I will cut off your victuals at the Prytaneum.
CLEON. I will haul you before Demos, who will mete out justice to you.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I too will drag you before him and belch forth more
calumnies than you.
CLEON. Why, poor fool, he does not believe you, whereas I play with him
at will.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. So that Demos is your property, your contemptible
creature.
CLEON. 'Tis because I know the dishes that please him.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And these are little mouthfuls, which you serve to him
like a clever nurse. You chew the pieces and place some in small
quantities in his mouth, while you swallow three parts yourself.
CLEON. Thanks to my skill, I know exactly how to enlarge or contract this
gullet.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I can do as much with my rump.
CLEON. Hah! my friend, you tricked me at the Senate, but have a care! Let
us go before Demos.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That's easily done; come, let's along without delay.
CLEON. Oh, Demos! Come, I adjure you to help me, my father!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Come, oh, my dear little Demos; come and see how I am
insulted.
DEMOS. What a hubbub! To the Devil with you, bawlers! alas! my olive
branch, which they have torn down! [84] Ah! 'tis you, Paphlagonian. And
who, pray, has been maltreating you?
CLEON. You are the cause of this man and these young people having
covered me with blows.
DEMOS. And why?
CLEON Because you love me passionately, Demos.
DEMOS. And you, who are you?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. His rival. For many a long year have I loved you, have I
wished to do you honour, I and a crowd of other men of means. But this
rascal here has prevented us. You resemble those young men who do not
know where to choose their lovers; you repulse honest folk; to earn your
favours, one has to be a lamp-seller, a cobbler, a tanner or a currier.
CLEON. I am the benefactor of the people.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. In what way, an it please you?
CLEON. In what way? I supplanted the Generals at Pylos, I hurried thither
and I brought back the Laconian captives.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, whilst simply loitering, cleared off with a pot
from a shop, which another fellow had been boiling.
CLEON. Demos, convene the assembly at once to decide which of us two
loves you best and most merits your favour.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, yes, provided it be not at the Pnyx.
DEMOS. I could not sit elsewhere; 'tis at the Pnyx, that you must appear
before me.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! 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.
And while they stood, their noses in the air, I made off with a piece of
meat.
CHORUS. Oh! most clever man! How well thought out! You did as the eaters
of artichokes, you gathered them before the return of the swallows. [54]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. They could make nothing of it; or, if they suspected a
trick, I hid the meat in my breeches and denied the thing by all the
gods; so that an orator, seeing me at the game, cried, "This child will
get on; he has the mettle that makes a statesman. "
CHORUS. He argued rightly; to steal, perjure yourself and make a receiver
of your rump[55] are three essentials for climbing high.
CLEON. I will stop your insolence, or rather the insolence of both of
you. I will throw myself upon you like a terrible hurricane ravaging both
land and sea at the will of its fury.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Then I will gather up my sausages and entrust myself to
the kindly waves of fortune so as to make you all the more enraged.
DEMOSTHENES. And I will watch in the bilges in case the boat should make
water.
CLEON. No, by Demeter! I swear, 'twill not be with impunity that you have
thieved so many talents from the Athenians. [56]
CHORUS (_to the Sausage-seller_). Oh! oh! reef your sail a bit! Here is
Boreas blowing calumniously.
CLEON. I know that you got ten talents out of Potidaea. [57]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Hold! I will give you one; but keep it dark!
CHORUS. Hah! that will please him mightily; now you can travel under full
sail.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, the wind has lost its violence.
CLEON. I will bring four suits against you, each of one hundred
talents. [58]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I twenty against you for shirking duty and more than
a thousand for robbery.
CLEON. I maintain that your parents were guilty of sacrilege against the
goddess. [59]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, that one of your grandfathers was a satellite. . . .
CLEON. To whom? Explain!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. To Byrsina, the mother of Hippias. [60]
CLEON. You are an impostor.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And you are a rogue.
CHORUS. Hit him hard.
CLEON. Oh, oh, dear! The conspirators are murdering me!
CHORUS. Strike, strike with all your might; bruise his belly, lashing him
with your guts and your tripe; punish him with both arms! Oh! vigorous
assailant and intrepid heart! Have you not routed him totally in this
duel of abuse? how shall I give tongue to my joy and sufficiently praise
you?
CLEON. Ah! by Demeter! I was not ignorant of this plot against me; I knew
it was forming, that the chariot of war was being put together. [61]
CHORUS (_to Sausage-seller_). Look out, look out! Come, outfence him with
some wheelwright slang?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. His tricks at Argos do not escape me. Under pretence of
forming an alliance with the Argives, he is hatching a plot with the
Lacedaemonians there; and I know why the bellows are blowing and the
metal that is on the anvil; 'tis the question of the prisoners.
CHORUS. Well done! Forge on, if he be a wheelwright.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And there are men at Sparta[62] who are hammering the
iron with you; but neither gold nor silver nor prayers nor anything else
shall impede my denouncing your trickery to the Athenians.
CLEON. As for me, I hasten to the Senate to reveal your plotting, your
nightly gatherings in the city, your trafficking with the Medes and with
the Great King, and all you are foraging for in Boeotia. [63]
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What price then is paid for forage by Boeotians?
CLEON. Oh! by Heracles! I will tan your hide.
CHORUS. Come, if you have both wit and heart, now is the time to show it,
as on the day when you hid the meat in your breeches, as you say. Hasten
to the Senate, for he will rush there like a tornado to calumniate us all
and give vent to his fearful bellowings.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I am going, but first I must rid myself of my tripe and
my knives; I will leave them here.
CHORUS. Stay! rub your neck with lard; in this way you will slip between
the fingers of calumny.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Spoken like a finished master of fence.
CHORUS. Now, bolt down these cloves of garlic.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Pray, what for?
CHORUS. Well primed with garlic, you will have greater mettle for the
fight. But hurry, hurry, bestir yourself!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That's just what I am doing.
CHORUS. And, above all, bite your foe, rend him to atoms, tear off his
comb[64] and do not return until you have devoured his wattles. Go! make
your attack with a light heart, avenge me and may Zeus guard you! I burn
to see you return the victor and laden with chaplets of glory. And you,
spectators, enlightened critics of all kinds of poetry, lend an ear to my
anapaests. [65]
CHORUS. Had one of the old authors asked to mount this stage to recite
his verses, he would not have found it hard to persuade me. But our poet
of to-day is likewise worthy of this favour; he shares our hatred, he
dares to tell the truth, he boldly braves both waterspouts and
hurricanes. Many among you, he tells us, have expressed wonder, that he
has not long since had a piece presented in his own name, and have asked
the reason why. [66] This is what he bids us say in reply to your
questions; 'tis not without grounds that he has courted the shade, for,
in his opinion, nothing is more difficult than to cultivate the comic
Muse; many court her, but very few secure her favours. Moreover, he knows
that you are fickle by nature and betray your poets when they grow old.
What fate befell Magnes,[67] when his hair went white? Often enough has
he triumphed over his rivals; he has sung in all keys, played the lyre
and fluttered wings; he turned into a Lydian and even into a gnat, daubed
himself with green to become a frog. [68] All in vain! When young, you
applauded him; in his old age you hooted and mocked him, because his
genius for raillery had gone. Cratinus[69] again was like a torrent of
glory rushing across the plain, uprooting oak, plane tree and rivals and
bearing them pell-mell in its wake. The only songs at the banquet were,
'Doro, shod with lying tales' and 'Adepts of the Lyric Muse';[70] so
great was his renown. Look at him now! he drivels, his lyre has neither
strings nor keys, his voice quivers, but you have no pity for him, and
you let him wander about as he can, like Connas,[71] his temples circled
with a withered chaplet; the poor old fellow is dying of thirst; he who,
in honour of his glorious past, should be in the Prytaneum drinking at
his ease, and instead of trudging the country should be sitting amongst
the first row of the spectators, close to the statue of Dionysus[72] and
loaded with perfumes. Crates,[73] again, have you done hounding him with
your rage and your hisses? True, 'twas but meagre fare that his sterile
Muse could offer you; a few ingenious fancies formed the sole
ingredients, but nevertheless he knew how to stand firm and to recover
from his falls. 'Tis such examples that frighten our poet; in addition,
he would tell himself, that before being a pilot, he must first know how
to row, then to keep watch at the prow, after that how to gauge the
winds, and that only then would he be able to command his vessel. [74] If
then you approve this wise caution and his resolve that he would not bore
you with foolish nonsense, raise loud waves of applause in his favour
this day, so that, at this Lenaean feast, the breath of your favour may
swell the sails of his trumphant galley and the poet may withdraw proud
of his success, with head erect and his face beaming with delight.
Posidon, god of the racing steed, I salute you, you who delight in their
neighing and in the resounding clatter of their brass-shod hoofs, god of
the swift galleys, which, loaded with mercenaries, cleave the seas with
their azure beaks, god of the equestrian contests, in which young rivals,
eager for glory, ruin themselves for the sake of distinction with their
chariots in the arena, come and direct our chorus; Posidon with the
trident of gold, you, who reign over the dolphins, who are worshipped at
Sunium and at Geraestus[75] beloved of Phormio,[76] and dear to the whole
city above all the immortals, I salute you!
Let us sing the glory of our forefathers; ever victors, both on land and
sea, they merit that Athens, rendered famous by these, her worthy sons,
should write their deeds upon the sacred peplus. [77] As soon as they saw
the enemy, they at once sprang at him without ever counting his strength.
Should one of them fall in the conflict, he would shake off the dust,
deny his mishap and begin the struggle anew. Not one of these Generals of
old time would have asked Cleaenetus[78] to be fed at the cost of the
state; but our present men refuse to fight, unless they get the honours
of the Prytaneum and precedence in their seats. As for us, we place our
valour gratuitously at the service of Athens and of her gods; our only
hope is, that, should peace ever put a term to our toils, you will not
grudge us our long, scented hair nor our delicate care for our toilet.
Oh! Pallas, guardian of Athens, you, who reign over the most pious city,
the most powerful, the richest in warriors and in poets, hasten to my
call, bringing in your train our faithful ally in all our expeditions and
combats, Victory, who smiles on our choruses and fights with us against
our rivals. Oh! goddess! manifest yourself to our sight; this day more
than ever we deserve that you should ensure our triumph.
We will sing likewise the exploits of our steeds! they are worthy of our
praises;[79] in what invasions, what fights have I not seen them helping
us! But especially admirable were they, when they bravely leapt upon the
galleys, taking nothing with them but a coarse wine, some cloves of
garlic and onions; despite this, they nevertheless seized the sweeps just
like men, curved their backs over the thwarts and shouted, "Hippopopoh!
Give way! Come, all pull together! Come, come! How! Samphoras! [80] Are
you not rowing? " They rushed down upon the coast of Corinth, and the
youngest hollowed out beds in the sand with their hoofs or went to fetch
coverings; instead of luzern, they had no food but crabs, which they
caught on the strand and even in the sea; so that Theorus causes a
Corinthian[81] crab to say, "'Tis a cruel fate, oh Posidon! neither my
deep hiding-places, whether on land or at sea, can help me to escape the
Knights. "
Welcome, oh, dearest and bravest of men! How distracted I have been
during your absence! But here you are back, safe and sound. Tell us about
the fight you have had.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. The important thing is that I have beaten the Senate. [82]
CHORUS. All glory to you! Let us burst into shouts of joy! You speak
well, but your deeds are even better. Come, tell me everything in detail;
what a long journey would I not be ready to take to hear your tale! Come,
dear friend, speak with full confidence to your admirers.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. The story is worth hearing. Listen! From here I rushed
straight to the Senate, right in the track of this man; he was already
letting loose the storm, unchaining the lightning, crushing the Knights
beneath huge mountains of calumnies heaped together and having all the
air of truth; he called you conspirators and his lies caught root like
weeds in every mind; dark were the looks on every side and brows were
knitted. When I saw that the Senate listened to him favourably and was
being tricked by his imposture, I said to myself, "Come, gods of rascals
and braggarts, gods of all fools, toad-eaters and braggarts and thou,
market-place, where I was bred from my earliest days, give me unbridled
audacity, an untiring chatter and a shameless voice. " No sooner had I
ended this prayer than a lewd man broke wind on my right. "Hah! 'tis a
good omen," said I, and prostrated myself; then I burst open the door by
a vigorous push with my back, and, opening my mouth to the utmost,
shouted, "Senators, I wanted you to be the first to hear the good news;
since the War broke out, I have never seen anchovies at a lower price! "
All faces brightened at once and I was voted a chaplet for my good
tidings; and I added, "With a couple of words I will reveal to you, how
you can have quantities of anchovies for an obol; 'tis to seize on all
the dishes the merchants have. " With mouths gaping with admiration, they
applauded me. However, the Paphlagonian winded the matter and, well
knowing the sort of language which pleases the Senate best, said,
"Friends, I am resolved to offer one hundred oxen to the goddess in
recognition of this happy event. " The Senate at once veered to his side.
So when I saw myself defeated by this ox filth, I outbade the fellow,
crying, "Two hundred! " And beyond this I moved, that a vow be made to
Diana of a thousand goats if the next day anchovies should only be worth
an obol a hundred. And the Senate looked towards me again. The other,
stunned with the blow, grew delirious in his speech, and at last the
Prytanes and the guards dragged him out. The Senators then stood talking
noisily about the anchovies. Cleon, however, begged them to listen to the
Lacedaemonian envoy, who had come to make proposals of peace; but all
with one accord, cried, "'Tis certainly not the moment to think of peace
now! If anchovies are so cheap, what need have we of peace? Let the war
take its course! " And with loud shouts they demanded that the Prytanes
should close the sitting and then leapt over the rails in all directions.
As for me, I slipped away to buy all the coriander seed and leeks there
were on the market and gave it to them gratis as seasoning for their
anchovies. 'Twas marvellous! They loaded me with praises and caresses;
thus I conquered the Senate with an obol's worth of leeks, and here I am.
CHORUS. Bravo! you are the spoilt child of Fortune. Ah! our knave has
found his match in another, who has far better tricks in his sack, a
thousand kinds of knaveries and of wily words. But the fight begins
afresh; take care not to weaken; you know that I have long been your most
faithful ally.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! ah! here comes the Paphlagonian!
One would say, 'twas
a hurricane lashing the sea and rolling the waves before it in its fury.
He looks as if he wanted to swallow me up alive! Ye gods! what an
impudent knave!
CLEON. To my aid, my beloved lies! I am going to destroy you, or my name
is lost.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Oh! how he diverts me with his threats! His bluster makes
me laugh! And I dance the _mothon_ for joy,[83] and sing at the top of my
voice, cuckoo!
CLEON. Ah! by Demeter! if I do not kill and devour you, may I die!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. If you do not devour me? and I, if I do not drink your
blood to the last drop, and then burst with indigestion.
CLEON. I, I will strangle you, I swear it by the precedence which Pylos
gained me.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. By the precedence! Ah! might I see you fall from your
precedence into the hindmost seat!
CLEON. By heaven! I will put you to the torture.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. What a lively wit! Come, what's the best to give you to
eat? What do you prefer? A purse?
CLEON. I will tear out your inside with my nails.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I will cut off your victuals at the Prytaneum.
CLEON. I will haul you before Demos, who will mete out justice to you.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I too will drag you before him and belch forth more
calumnies than you.
CLEON. Why, poor fool, he does not believe you, whereas I play with him
at will.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. So that Demos is your property, your contemptible
creature.
CLEON. 'Tis because I know the dishes that please him.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And these are little mouthfuls, which you serve to him
like a clever nurse. You chew the pieces and place some in small
quantities in his mouth, while you swallow three parts yourself.
CLEON. Thanks to my skill, I know exactly how to enlarge or contract this
gullet.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. I can do as much with my rump.
CLEON. Hah! my friend, you tricked me at the Senate, but have a care! Let
us go before Demos.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. That's easily done; come, let's along without delay.
CLEON. Oh, Demos! Come, I adjure you to help me, my father!
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Come, oh, my dear little Demos; come and see how I am
insulted.
DEMOS. What a hubbub! To the Devil with you, bawlers! alas! my olive
branch, which they have torn down! [84] Ah! 'tis you, Paphlagonian. And
who, pray, has been maltreating you?
CLEON. You are the cause of this man and these young people having
covered me with blows.
DEMOS. And why?
CLEON Because you love me passionately, Demos.
DEMOS. And you, who are you?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. His rival. For many a long year have I loved you, have I
wished to do you honour, I and a crowd of other men of means. But this
rascal here has prevented us. You resemble those young men who do not
know where to choose their lovers; you repulse honest folk; to earn your
favours, one has to be a lamp-seller, a cobbler, a tanner or a currier.
CLEON. I am the benefactor of the people.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. In what way, an it please you?
CLEON. In what way? I supplanted the Generals at Pylos, I hurried thither
and I brought back the Laconian captives.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, whilst simply loitering, cleared off with a pot
from a shop, which another fellow had been boiling.
CLEON. Demos, convene the assembly at once to decide which of us two
loves you best and most merits your favour.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, yes, provided it be not at the Pnyx.
DEMOS. I could not sit elsewhere; 'tis at the Pnyx, that you must appear
before me.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! 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.
