No More Learning

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DiODORtrs.
[Of Sinope. Exhibited in 354. ]
This is my rule, and to my rule I'll hold, — To choose my wife by merit, not by gold ; For on that one election must depend Whether I wed a fury or a friend.
When your foe dies, let all resentment cease :
Make peace with death, and death shall give you peace.
Dionysius.
[ Of Sinope. About the same time as Nicostratus. ] The Cook.
The true professor of the art should strive To gratify the taste of every guest ;
For if he merely furnishes the table,
Sees all the dishes properly disposed,
And thinks, having done this, he has discharged His office, he's mistaken, and deserves
To be considered only as a drudge,
A kitchen drudge, without an art or skill,
And differs widely from a cook indeed, A master of his trade.
He bears the name Of general, 'tis true, who heads the army : But he whose comprehensive mind surveys
The whole, who knows to turn each circumstance Of time, and place, and action to advantage, — Foresees what difficulties may occur,
And how to conquer them, — this is the man Who should be called the general ; the other The mere conductor of the troops, no more.
So in our art it is an easy thing
To boil, to roast, to stew, to fricassee,
To blow the bellows or to stir the fire ;
But a professor of the art regards
The time, the place, the inviter, and the guest ; And when the market is well stored with fish, Knows to select, and to prefer such only
As are in proper season, and in short,
Omits no knowledge that may justly lead
To the perfection of his art. 'Tis true, Archestratus has written on the subject,
And is allowed by many to have left
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Most choice receipts, and curious inventions Useful and pleasing; yet in many things He was profoundly ignorant, and speaks Upon report, without substantial proof
Or knowledge of his own. We must not trust, Nor give our faith to loose conjectures thus For in our art we only can depend
On actual practice and experiment.
Having no fixed and settled laws by which
We may be governed, we must frame our own, As time and opportunity may serve,
Which if we do not well improve, the art Itself must suffer by our negligence.
Heniochus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ] The Demon Gfuests.
These are towns of every sort, Which have been crazy now since long ago.
Some one may interrupt and ask me why
They are here before us :
The place in which we meet's the agora
Of Olympia ; and fancy to yourselves
The scene is set as for a theater.
Well then, what are these cities doing here ?
They came here once to sacrifice to freedom
When they were nearly freed from forced exactions : After that sacrifice their recklessness
Destroyed them, entertaining stranger guests
Day after day upon the multiple throne ;
Namely, two women that have stirred them up, Always twin lived : Democracy the name
Of one is, Aristocracy the other ;
Through whom they've acted since most drunkenly !
Mnesimaohus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ]
The Fireeaters.
Dost know whom thou'rt to sup with, friend ? I'll tell thee With gladiators, not with peaceful guests ;
Instead of knives we're armed with naked swords,
And swallow firebrands in the place of food ;
Daggers of Crete are served us for confections,
I will let him know.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 315
And for a plate of pease a fricassee
Of shattered spears ; the cushions we repose on Are shields and breastplates, at our feet a pile
Of slings and arrows, and our foreheads wreathed With military ensigns, not with myrtle.
Timocles.
[About b. o. 350-320. Said to have revived the energy of political comedy. ] Demosthenes.
Bid me say anything in preference ;
But on this theme, Demosthenes himself
Shall sooner check the torrent of his speech
Than I — Demosthenes ! That angry orator,
That bold Briareus, whose tremendous throat, Charged to the teeth with battering rams and spears Beats down opposers ; brief in speech was he,
But, crossed in argument, his threatening eyes Flashed fire, whilst thunder volleyed from his lips.
The Ungrateful Mistress.
Wretch that I am, She had my love when a mere caper-gatherer,
And fortune's smiles as yet were wanting to her.
I never pinched nor spared in my expenses,
Yet now — doors closely barred are the recompense That waits on former bounties ill bestowed.
The Lessons of Tragedy.
Nay, my good friend, but hear me ! I confess
Man is the child of sorrow, and this world,
In which we breathe, hath cares enough to plague us ; But it hath means withal to sooth these cares,
And he who meditates on others' woes
Shall in that meditation lose his own.
Call then the tragic poet to your aid,
Hear him, and take instructions from the stage.
Let Telephus appear : behold a prince,
A spectacle of poverty and pain,
Wretched in both. — And what if you are poor ?
Are you a demigod ? are you the son
Of Hercules ? begone ! Complain no more.
Doth your mind struggle with distracting thoughts ?
»
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Do your wits wander ? are you mad ? Alas ! So was Alcmaeon, whilst the world adored His father as their god. Your eyes are dim : What then ? the eyes of CEdipus were dark, Totally dark. You mourn a son ; he's dead : Turn to the tale of Niobe for comfort,
And match your love with hers. You're lame of foot Compare it with the foot of Philoctetes,
And make no more complaint. But you are old,
Old and unfortunate : consult Oeneus ;
Hear what a king endured, and learn content. Sum up your miseries, number up your sighs, The tragic stage shall give you tear for tear, And wash out all afflictions but its own.
Xenabchus. [Contemporary of Timocles. ] Tricks of the Trade.
Poets indeed ! — I should be glad to know
Of what they have to boast. Invention — no !
They invent nothing, but they pilfer much,
Change and invert the order, and pretend
To pass it off for new. But fishmongers
Are fertile in resources, they excel
All our philosophers in ready wit
And sterling impudence. The law forbids,
And strictly, too, to water their stale fish —
How do they manage to evade the fine ?
Why thus : when one of them perceives the board Begins to be offensive, and the fish
Look dry and change their color, he begins
A pre-concerted quarrel with his neighbor.
They come to blows : he soon affects to be
Most desperately beaten, and falls down,
As if unable to support himself,
Gasping for breath ; another, who the while (Knowing the secret) was prepared to act,
Seizes a jar of water, aptly placed,
And scatters a few drops of water on his friend, Then empties the whole vessel on the fish,
Which makes them look so fresh you want to swear They were just taken from the sea.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 317
Ah, faithless women ! when you swear, I register your oaths in air.
Theophilus.
[Dates uncertain. ]
If love be folly, as the schools would prove, The man must lose his wits who falls in love : Deny him love, you doom the wretch to death, And then it follows he must lose his breath. Good sooth ! there is a young and dainty maid I dearly love, a minstrel she by trade ;
What then ? Must I defer to pedant rule, And own that love transforms me to a fool ? Not I, so help me ! By the gods I swear, The nymph I love is fairest of the fair, Wise, witty, dearer to her poet's sight
Than piles of money on an author's night ! Must I not love her, then ? Let the dull sot
Who made the law, obey it !
"NEW COMEDY. " Menandeb.
[The greatest name in the "New Comedy," except Philemon; the chief model of Terence and in part of Plautus. Born b. c. 342, died 291. ]
A Pure Heart the Best Ceremonial.
Ifyour complaints were serious, 'twould be well You sought a serious cure : but for weak minds Weak medicines may suffice. — Go, call around you The women with their purifying water ;
Drug it with salt and lentils, and then take
A treble sprinkling from the holy mess ;
Now search your heart : if that reproach you not, Then, and then only, you are truly pure.
An Early Death Escape from Evil.
The lot of all most fortunate is his,
Who having stayed just long enough on earth
To feast his sight with this fair face of nature,
Sun, sea, and clouds, and Heaven's bright starry fires, Drops without pain into an early grave.
For what is life, the longest life of man,
I will not
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
But the same scene repeated o'er and o'er ?
A few more lingering days to be consumed
In throngs and crowds, with sharpers, knaves, and thieves ; From such the speediest riddance is the best.
The Bane of Envy.
Thou seemst to me, young man, not to perceive That everything contains within itself
The seeds and sources of its own corruption ; The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel ; The moth frets out your garment, and the worm Eats its slow way into the solid oak ;
But Envy, of all evil things the worst,
The same to-day, to-morrow, and forever,
Eats and consumes the heart in which it lurks.
Of all bad things with which mankind are curst, Their own bad tempers surely are the worst.
You say not always wisely, Know Thyself: Know others, ofttimes is the better maxim.
The Folly of Avarice.
Weak is the vanity that boasts of riches,
For they are fleeting things : were they not such, Could they be yours to all succeeding time,
'Twere wise to let none share in the possession.
But if whate'er you have is held of fortune,
And not of right inherent, — why, my father,
Why with such niggard jealousy engross
What the next hour may ravish from your grasp,
And cast into some worthless favorite's lap ?
Snatch, then, the swift occasion while 'tis yours |
Put this unstable boon to noble uses ;
Foster the wants of men, impart your wealth,
And purchase friends : 'twill be more lasting treasure, And when misfortune comes, your best resource.
Riches No Exemption from Care.
Ne'er trust me, Phanias, but I thought till now That you rich fellows had the knack of sleeping A good sound nap, that held you for the night, And not like us poor rogues, who toss and turn, Sighing, Ah, me ! and grumbling at our duns :
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 319
But now I find, in spite of all your money, You rest no better than your needy neighbors, And sorrow is the common lot of all.
Man's Miseries Self-Caused.
All creatures are more blest in their condition, And in their natures worthier than man.
Look at your ass ! — a sorry beast, you'll say, And such in truth he is — poor, hapless thing ! Yet these his sufferings spring not from himself, For all that Nature gave him he enjoys.
Whilst we, besides our necessary ills,
Make ourselves sorrows of our own begetting :
If a man sneeze, we're sad — for that's ill-luck;
If he traduce us, we run mad with rage ;
A dream, a vapor, throws us into terrors,
And let the night owl hoot we melt with fear ; Anxieties, opinions, laws, ambition,
All these are torments we may thank ourselves for.
Dust Thou Art.
When thou wouldst know thereof, what man thou art, Look at the tombstones as thou passest by ;
Within those monuments lie bones and dust
Of monarchs, tyrants, sages, men whose pride
Rose high because of wealth, or noble blood,
Or haughty soul, or loveliness of limb ;
Yet none of these things strove for them 'gainst Time : One common death hath ta'en all mortal men.
See thou to this, and know thee who thou art.
Being a man, ask not release from pain,
But ask the gods for strength to bear thy pain : If thou wouldst fain escape all woe for aye, Thou must become a god, or else a corpse.
Philemon.
[The second in rank of the poets of the " New Comedy. " Began to exhibit about b. c. 330, and lived to be over one hundred, writing plays for nearly seventy years. ]
The Honest Man.
All are not just because they do no wrong; But he who will not wrong me when he may, He is the truly just. I praise not them
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Who in their petty dealings pilfer not ;
But him whose conscience spurns a secret fraud When he might plunder and defy surprise — His be the praise, who looking down with scorn On the false judgment of the partial herd, Consults his own clear heart, and boldly dares To be, not to be thought, an honest man.
Truth.
Now by the gods, it is not in the power
Of painting or of sculpture to express
Aught so divine as the fair form of Truth ! The creatures of their art may catch the eye, But her sweet nature captivates the soul.
The CItief Good in a Turbulent Age.
Philosophers consume much time and pains To seek the Sovereign Good, nor is there one
Who yet hath struck upon it : Virtue some
And Prudence some contend for, whilst the knot Grows harder by their struggle to untie it.
I, a mere clown, in turning up the soil
Have dug the secret forth — all-gracious Jove ! 'Tis Peace, most lovely and of all beloved :
Peace is the bounteous goddess who bestows Weddings and holidays and joyous sports, Relations, friends, health, plenty, social comforts, And pleasures which alone make life a blessing.
Misfortune Comes to AU.
'Tis not on them alone who tempt the sea
That the storm breaks : it whelms e'en us, 0 Laches, Whether we pass the open colonnade,
Or to the inmost shelter of our house
Shrink from its rage. The sailor for a day,
A night perhaps, is bandied up and down,
And then anon reposes, when the wind
Veers for the wished-for point, and wafts him home : But I know no repose ; not one day only,
But every day to the last hour of life
Deeper and deeper I am plunged in woe.
If what we have we use not, and still covet What we have not, we are cajoled by Fortune Of present bliss, of future by ourselves.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 321
Two words of nonsense are two words too much ; Whole volumes of good sense will never tire. What multitudes of lines hath Homer wrote ! Who ever thought he wrote one line too much ?
Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test, And he's the wisest man who bears them best
Diphilus.
[Contemporary of Menander and Philemon. ]
From off the farm comes once in every year A cheery ass, to me who love his cheer ; Like hamper burst at once in all its twigs, Bearing libations, oil, meal, honey, figs.
Time, 0 my guest, is a wright who works a curse : He joys in transformations for the worse.
There is no life but evil happenings seize, — Griefs, cares, and robberies, torments and disease ; Death in physician's guise cuts short their number, Filling the victim's closing scene with slumber.
To Bacchus.
0 friend to the wise, to the children of song
Take me with thee, thou wisest and sweetest, along ;
To the humble, the lowly, proud thoughts dost thou bring, For the wretch who has thee is as blithe as a king ;
From the brows of the sage, in thy humorous play,
Thou dost smooth every furrow and wrinkle away ;
To the weak thou giv'st strength, to the mendicant gold, And a slave warmed by thee as a lion is bold.
Suspicious Circumstances.
Wee have in Corinth this good Law in use : If wee see any person keepe great cheere, Wee make inquirie, whether he doe worke, Or if he have Revenues coming in !
If either, then we say no more of him.
But if the Charge exceed his Gaine or Rents, He is forbidden to run on his course ;
If he continue he pays fine
If he want where withal, he at last
Taken by sergeants and in prison cast.
vol. iv. —21
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FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
For to spend much, and never to get aught,
Is cause of much disorder in the world.
One in the nighttime filcheth from the flocks ; Another breaks a house or else a shop ;
A third man gets a share his mouth to stop. To beare a part in this good fellowship,
One feignes a suit his neighbor to molest, Another must false witness beare with him ; But such a crue we utterly detest,
And banish from our citie like the pest.
Philippides.
[Flourished about b. c. 320-300. ]
When you have erred, be glad that you are blamed Thus only is a balanced mind preserved.
It is not hard for those in weakly plight To tell the lusty ones, " Don't misbehave ! " And 'tis no task to blame the fighting fist, But to fight personally is not so easy : Talking is one thing, acting is another.
Desert a Beggar Born.
It grieves me much to see the world so changed, And men of worth, ingenious and well born, Reduced to poverty, while cunning knaves,
The very scum of the people, eat their fish, Bought for two oboli, on plates of silver, Weighing at least a mina ; a few capers,
Not worth three pieces of brass money, served In lordly silver dish, that weighs at least
As much as fifteen drachmas. In times past A little cup presented to the gods
Was thought a splendid offering : but such gifts Are now but seldom seen ; and reason good, — For 'tis no sooner on the altar placed
Than rogues are watching to purloin it thence.
Apollodorus (Caktstius).
[Flourished about b. c 300-260. ]
Make fast your door with bars of iron quite : No architect can build a door so tight
But cat and paramour will get through in spite.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 328
Each one by his deeds should be Illustrious, with humility.
A peaceful life is sweet ; it would be blest And honored, if as peaceful were the rest : But living wild with monkeys one must be A monkey. Oh, the life of misery !
When I was young, I pitied those untimely reft in their bloom ; But now when I see the aged borne along to the tomb,
I weep indeed — but for my fate, not for theirs, is the gloom.
A One-Sided Retort.
I do not scorn, Philinus, old men's ways,
Which may be yours when age has come to you,
But yet our fathers are at disadvantage
In this — Unless your sire does something for you, You rate him, " Haven't you been young yourself ? " But father cannot say in turn to son
When erring — " Haven't you been old yourself ? "
There is a certain hospitable air
In a friend's home that tells me I am welcome;
The porter opens to me with a smile,
The yard dog wags his tail, the servant runs, — Beats up the cushion, spreads the couch, and says
" Sit down, good sir ! " ere I can say I'm weary.
Euphrok.
[Dates unknown. ]
Tell me, all-judging Jove, if this be fair,— To make so short a life so full of care ?
Who by his own profession is distrest,
How should he manage well the public chest ?
Wretch ! find new gods to witness to new lies : Thy perjuries have made the old too wise !
Phcenicides.
[Flourished about b. c. 272.
] A Courtesan and Her Keepers.
So help me Venus ! as I'm fairly sick — Sick to the soul, my Pythias, of this trade —
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
No more on't ! I'll be no man's mistress, I ;
Don't talk to me of Destiny — I've done with't ;
I'll hear no prophecies, for mark me well : —
No sooner did I buckle to this business,
Than straight behold a man of war assailed me : He told me of his battles o'er and o'er, — Showed me good stock of scars, but none of cash No, not a doit ; but still he vapored much
Of what a certain prince would do, and talked
Of this and that commission — in the clouds :
By which he gulled me of a twelvemonth's hope, Lived at free cost, and fed me upon love.
At length I sent my man of valor packing,
And a grave son of Physic filled his place :
My house now seemed a hospital of lazars,
And the vile beggar mangled without mercy,
A very hangman bathed in human gore.
My soldier was a prince compared to this,
For his were merry fibs : this son of death Turned everything he touched into a corpse. When Fortune, who had yet good store of spite, Now coupled me to a most learned philosopher; Plenty of beard he had, a cloak withal,
Enough to spare of each, and more maxims, More than I could digest, but money — none ; His sect abhorred it ; 'twas a thing proscribed By his philosophy, an evil root,
And when I asked him for a taste, 'twas poison; Still I demanded and for the reason — That he so slightly prized all in vain
could not wring drachma from his clutches, — Defend me, Heaven, from all philosophers
Posidippus. [Began to exhibit in 289. ]
Our talent gains us much acquaintanceship, Our soul and manners nearly all our friends.
Strato.
[Uncertain probably contemporary of the above. ]
The Learned Servant.
I've harbored he-sphinx and not cook
For, by the gods, he talked to me in riddles, And coined new words that pose me to interpret.
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FEAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
No sooner had he entered on his office, — Than, eyeing me from head to foot, he cries
" How many mortals hast thou bid to supper ? " Mortals ! quoth I — what tell you me of mortals ? Let Jove decide on their mortality ;
You're crazy, sure : none by that name are bidden. " No table usher, no one to"officiate
As master of the courses ? — No such person ; Moschion and Niceratus and Philinus,
These are my guests and friends, and amongst these
You'll find no table-decker, as
" Gods ! is it possible ? " cried he : Most certain,
I patiently replied. He swelled and huffed,
As forsooth, had done him heinous wrong,
And robbed him of his proper dignity
Ridiculous conceit — " What offering mak'st thou To Erysichthon " he demanded None.
" Shall not the wide-horned ox be felled " " cries he
sacrifice no ox. — "Nor yet a wether
Not by Jove simple sheep, perhaps.
" And what's wether but a sheep " cries he.
I'm plain man, my friend, and therefore speak Plain language " What speak as Homer does And sure cook may use like privilege,
And more than blind poet. " — Not with me:
I'll have no kitchen Homers in my house
So pray discharge yourself. — This said, we parted.
Bato.
[Flourished about b. c. 217. ]
man, you've erred in life 'twould be
Being
A miracle to succeed perpetually.
The Scholar.
Good, good, Sibynna! Ours no art for sluggards to acquire,
Nor should the hour of deepest midnight see Us and our volumes parted still our lamp Upon its oil feeding, and the page
Of ancient lore before us — What, what hath The Sicyonian deduced what school points Have we from him of Chios Sagest Actides
—
And Zopyrinus, what are their traditions
Thus grapple we with mighty tomes of wisdom, Sifting and weighing and digesting all.
Itake it.
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326 THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
[FLerondas (or Hebodab) flourished probably about b. c. 250. ]
(The first three translated by J. A. Symonds : the comments and abstracts by him also. )
The Go-between.
Scene : A Private House, where Meteioha, a young wife, in the absence of her husband, Mandris, on the sea, is seated alone within reach of a female slave, Thbessa. Gvllis comes to pay a visit.
Metricha — Thressa, some one is knocking at the house door. Won't you run to see whether a visitor has arrived from the country ?
Thressa — Who knocks ?
Gyllis — It's me.
Thressa — Who are you ? Are you afraid to come near ? Gyllis — Well, then, see, I have come up.
Thressa — Who are you, say ?
Q-yllis — Gyllis, the mother of Philaenion.
inside there that I'm here.
Metricha — Invite her in. Who is she ?
Thressa — Gyllis.
Metricha — Grandam Gyllis! [To the slave. ] Turn your
back a minute, girl. [To Gyllis. ] Which of the Fates has coaxed you into coming, Gyllis, to our house ? What brings you here like a deity to mortals ? I verily believe it must be five months or near it since you, Gyllis, even in a dream, so help me Fate, were seen by any one approaching this door.
Gyllis — I live a long way off, child, and in the lanes the mud is up to one's knees ; besides, I have no more strength than a fly. Old age is dragging us down, and the shadow stands anear and waits.
Metricha — Tut, tut ! Don't calumniate time in that way ! You're strong enough yet, Gyllis, to throttle your neighbors.
Gyllis — Jeer on ! That's the way with you young women. Metricha — Pray don't take fire at what I said.
Gyllis — Well, then, my girl, how long do you mean to go on like a widow, in loneliness, wearing out your solitary bed ?
Tell Metricha
THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
327
From the day when Mandris set sail for Egypt, ten moons have come and gone, and he does not send you so much as a letter. Truly, he has forgotten, and has drunken at fresh fountains. There, ah, there is the palace of the goddess ! For everything, I tell you, that is found upon this earth, or can be found, grows in abundance there in Egypt : riches, gymnasia, power and might, fair sunny skies, glory, splendid shows, philoso phers, gold, blooming youths, the temple gardens of twin gods, a king of the best, a museum, wine, all the good things one's heart can wish for, women in bevies — I swear by Hades, the heavens above boast not so many stars —lovely, too, as were the goddesses what time they came to Paris for the prize of beauty (may they not hear me saying this But you, poor thing, what your sort of spirit that you sit and warm that chair Will you let old age overtake you unawares, and ashes consume your youth Take another course for two or three days change your mind in jocund mirth set up with some new friend The ship that rides at one anchor not safely
moored. No mortal knows the future. Life uncertain ever. Metricha — What are you talking about
Gyllis — Is there any one near who can overhear us Metricha — None that know of.
Gyllis — Listen, then, to what have come to tell you after all this time Gryllus, the son of Matakine, Pataecius's wife, the fellow who has conquered in five conquests — as boy at the Pythian games, twice at Corinth with youths in bloom, twice at Olympia with full-grown pugilists — he owns pretty fortune, too, without having to stir finger, and as regards the Queen of Love, he seal unbroken. The man I'm talking of saw you at the Descent of Misa fell desperately in love his bowels burned for you and now he will not leave my dwelling night or day, my girl, but makes lament to me, and wheedles, and ready to die of his love-longing. Nay, come, child, Metricha, grant me this one peccadillo. Adjust yourself
to the goddess else will old age, who looks toward you, take you unawares. By doing this you'll get paid twice. See, then, obey my counsels. love you, by the Fates.
Metricha — Gyllis, whiteness of hair blunts the edge of understanding. As hope for the return of Mandris and for Demeter to befriend me, could not have taken words like these from any other woman, but should have taught the lame to sing lame, and turned her out of doors. beg you never to
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328 THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
come to me again with messages of this kind. Tales that are fit for wantons, go tell to silly girls. Leave Metricha, Pytho's daughter, to warm her chair. Nobody laughs at Mandris with impunity. But, as they say, that's not what Gyllis needs to hear. [Calling to the slave girl. '] Thressa, rub up the black bowl of whelk ; pour in three pints of pure wine, mix with water, and give it us to drink in a big cup. Here, Gyllis, drink !
[The rest of the dialogue is too corrupt to be translated. But it appears that Gyllis begins to make excuses for her ill-considered embassy, drinks freely, praises the excellence of Metricha's cellar, takes her leave with compliments, and goes off commending herself to more facile damsels.
[The next mime consists of a speech addressed to a Greek jury by the plaintiff in an action brought against a wealthy sea-captain for assault and battery. The plaintiff is himself a low fellow well known to the whole town for his bad life and infamous vocation ; yet he assumes the tone of a practised counsel, breaks out into telling sallies against the character of the defendant, causes the statutes to be read aloud by the clerk of the court, produces a witness, and concludes with a patriotic peroration. The whole piece reads extraordinarily like the parody or burlesque of some Attic oration. ]
The Ruffian.
Scene : A Court of Justice in the town of Cos. Battalos addresses the Jury.
If that fellow, just because he sails the sea or wears a mantle worth three minae, while I abide on land and drag about a threadbare cloak and rotten slippers, is to carry away by force one of my own girls without my consent, and that by night, mark you, — I say the security of the city, gentlemen, will be gone, and what you take such pride in, your inde pendence, will be abolished by Thales. His duty it was, knowing who he is and molded out of what clay, to live as I do, trembling with fear before the very lowest of the burghers. But now those men among you who are shields of the city, and who have far more right to brag about their birth than he — they respect the laws, and not one of the burghers ever cudgeled me, foreigner as I am, nor came to break into my house at night, nor set fire to it with torches, nor carried away
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with force one of my young women. But that Phrygian who is now called Thales, but was formerly Artimnes, gentlemen of the jury, has done all these things, and has had no regard for law or prefect or archon. (Turns to the clerk. ') Well, I sup pose, clerk, you had better take and read the statute on assault with violence ; and do you stop the bung-hole of the water- clock, my friend, till he has finished, so that I may not, as the proverb runs, be throwing good money after bad.
[Battalos makes the clerk read out a passage of the law, while he bids the slave of the court stop the clepsydra, which times the length of his oration. ]
And if a free man assault a slave woman, or carry her away by force, he shall pay double damages.
[The clerk stops reading. Battalos goes on with his speech. ]
Those words, gentlemen of the jury, were written by Chae- rondas, and not by Battalos, the plaintiff in this suit against Thales. If one shall break a door, let him pay a mina, says the lawgiver ; if he strike with the fist, another mina ; if he burn the house or force entrance, a thousand drachmas ; and if he inflict personal injury, the penalty shall be double. For he dwelt in a city, Thales ; but you have no knowledge of any city, nor indeed of how a city is administered. To-day finds you in Bricindera, yesterday in Abdera ; to-morrow, if some one gives you passage money, you will sail maybe to Phaselis. To cut the matter short, gentlemen of the jury, and not to weary you with digressions, I suffered at the hands of Thales what the mouse did when the pitch caught him. I was pum- meled, the door of my house was broken in (for which I pay a third as rent), and the lintel overhead was burned. [Calls to
the girl who had been carried off by Thales. ] Come hither, Myrtale, you also, and show yourself to all the folk ; don't be ashamed ; imagine to yourself that all the jurymen you're look ing at are fathers, brothers. Just see, gentlemen, how she's been torn from top to bottom, how that unholy rascal tore her to tatters when he dragged her off by force! Old age, to thee be sacrifices made ! Without you, he must have bled for it ! [Turns round to Thales, or to some one in the court who is jeer ing. ] You laugh? Well, I am a ruffian, and I don't deny it, and Battalos is my name, and my grandsire was Sisymbras, and my father Sisymbriscus, and each and all of us whoremasters —
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there ! but as for pluck, I'd strangle a lion, if the brute were Thales. [Addresses the defendant, Thales. '] Perhaps you are in love with Myrtale ? Nothing wonderful. I love my loaf. Give this, and you shall get that. Or else, by Jupiter, if you are in heat or so, stuff her price into the palm of Battalos ; go take and batter what belongs to you to your own heart's content.
the jury. ] There is still one point, gentlemen of the jury — this is the charge I make against yonder fellow — it remains with you, I say, in the absence of witnesses, to pro nounce sentence by the rules of equity — should he, however, want to put slaves to the test of torture, I am ready to offer myself also. Here, Thales, take and put me to the rack ; only see that the damages are paid into court first. Minos could not make more fair division and distinction by his weighing scales. For the rest, gentlemen of the jury, forget that you are voting for or against Battalos, the brothel keeper. Think that you are acting for all the foreigners established in your town. Now is the time for Cos and Merops to show what they are good for, Thessalus and Herakles the worth of their renown, Asklepios why he removed from Tricca, and for what cause Phoebe gave birth to Leto here. Considering all these matters, hold the helm of justice with right judgment, so that the Phrygian, hav ing felt your lash, may become the better for his punishment, if so be that the proverb transmitted to us from antiquity doth not speak untruth.
[The third mime, which follows, gives us sufficient insight into the behavior of a thoroughly ill-conducted vagabond of a schoolboy. His main vice was gambling in low company. That is the point in the incident of his mistaking Maron for Simon. Pollux informs us that Simon was one of the names for a cast of dice. ]
The Schoolmaster.
Scene : A School for Boys, in which there are statues of the Muses. Lampriscus, the master, is seated there. Enter Metrottma, dragging her unwilling son Kottalos.
Metrotima —May the dear Muses send you something to enjoy, and may you have pleasure in life ; so you will promise to drub this boy of mine, till the soul of him, drat it, is left nowhere in his body but the lips. He has ruined me by play ing pitch and toss. Yes, Lampriscus, it seems that knuckle
[Addresses
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bones are not enough for him; but he must needs be running after worse mischief. Where the door of the grammar-master stands, or when the cursed tax-day comes round — let me scream like Nannakos — he cannot tell. But the gambling place, where street porters and runaways take up their quarters, is so well known to him that he will point it out to strangers. The un happy tablets, which I take the pains to spread with wax each month, lie abandoned by his bedpost next the wall, unless per chance he casts a glance on them as though they were the devil; and then, instead of writing something nice, he rubs them bare. His dice — that litter about among the bellows and the nets — are shinier than our oil-flask which we use for everything. But as for spelling out a word, he does not even know his alpha, unless one shouts it five times in his ears. The day before yesterday, when his father was teaching him Maron, what did the pretty fellow do but go and turn Maron into Simon? so that I am driven to call myself a fool for not making him a donkey-boy, instead of putting him to study in the hope of having a support for my declining years. Then if we make him repeat some child's speech — I, or his father, an old man with bad eyes and deaf — the words run out of his head like water from a bottle with a hole in it. " Apollo, the hunter ! " I cry out ; " even your granny will recite what one asks, and yet she has no schooling — or the first Phrygian you meet upon the road. "
But it's no use scolding, for if we go on, he runs away from home, stays out three days and nights, sponging upon his grandmother, a poor old blind woman and destitute ; or else he squats up there upon the roof, with his legs stretched out, like a tame ape, peering down. Just fancy what his wretched mother suffers in her entrails when she sees him there. I don't care so much about him indeed. But he smashes all the roofing into broken biscuits ; and, when winter comes, I have to pay two shillings for each tile, with tears of anger in my eyes. All the neighbors sing the same old song : "Yonder's the work of master Kottalos, that boy of Metro- tima's. " And true it is ; and I daren't wag a tooth in answer. Look at his back, too, how he's scratched it all over in the wood, till he's no better than a Delian fisher with the creel, who doits his life away at sea. Yet he casts feast days and holidays better than a professional star-gazer ; not even sleep will catch him forgetting when you're off your guard. So I beseech you,
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