No More Learning

[15]

DEMOSTHENES. No, not that, but a bumper of good unmixed wine in honour of
the Good Genius;[16] perchance we may stumble on a happy thought.

NICIAS. Look at him! "Unmixed wine! " Your mind is on drink intent? Can a
man strike out a brilliant thought when drunk?

DEMOSTHENES. Without question. Go, ninny, blow yourself out with water;
do you dare to accuse wine of clouding the reason? Quote me more
marvellous effects than those of wine. Look! when a man drinks, he is
rich, everything he touches succeeds, he gains lawsuits, is happy and
helps his friends. Come, bring hither quick a flagon of wine, that I may
soak my brain and get an ingenious idea.

NICIAS. Eh, my god! What can your drinking do to help us?

DEMOSTHENES. Much. But bring it to me, while I take my seat. Once drunk,
I shall strew little ideas, little phrases, little reasonings everywhere.

NICIAS (_returning with a flagon_). It is lucky I was not caught in the
house stealing the wine.

DEMOSTHENES. Tell me, what is the Paphlagonian doing now?

NICIAS. The wretch has just gobbled up some confiscated cakes; he is
drunk and lies at full-length a-snoring on his hides.

DEMOSTHENES. Very well, come along, pour me out wine and plenty of it.

NICIAS. Take it and offer a libation to your Good Genius; taste, taste
the liquor of the genial soil of Pramnium. [17]

DEMOSTHENES. Oh, Good Genius! 'Tis thy will, not mine.

NICIAS. Prithee, tell me, what is it?

DEMOSTHENES. Run indoors quick and steal the oracles of the Paphlagonian,
while he is asleep. [18]

NICIAS. Bless me! I fear this Good Genius will be but a very Bad Genius
for me.

DEMOSTHENES. And set the flagon near me, that I may moisten my wit to
invent some brilliant notion.

NICIAS (_enters the house and returns at once_). How the Paphlagonian
grunts and snores! I was able to seize the sacred oracle, which he was
guarding with the greatest care, without his seeing me.

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! clever fellow! Hand it here, that I may read. Come, pour
me out some drink, bestir yourself! Let me see what there is in it. Oh!
prophecy! Some drink! some drink! Quick!

NICIAS. Well! what says the oracle?

DEMOSTHENES. Pour again.

NICIAS. Is "pour again" in the oracle?

DEMOSTHENES. Oh, Bacis! [19]

NICIAS. But what is in it?

DEMOSTHENES. Quick! some drink!

NICIAS. Bacis is very dry!

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! miserable Paphlagonian! This then is why you have so
long taken such precautions; your horoscope gave you qualms of terror.

NICIAS. What does it say?

DEMOSTHENES. It says here how he must end.

NICIAS. And how?

DEMOSTHENES. How? the oracle announces clearly that a dealer in oakum
must first govern the city. [20]

NICIAS. First dealer. And after him, who?

DEMOSTHENES. After him, a sheep-dealer. [21]

NICIAS. Two dealers, eh? And what is this one's fate?

DEMOSTHENES. To reign until a greater scoundrel than he arises; then he
perishes and in his place the leather-seller appears, the Paphlagonian
robber, the bawler, who roars like a torrent. [22]

NICIAS. And the leather-seller must destroy the sheep-seller?

DEMOSTHENES. Yes.

NICIAS. Oh! woe is me! Where can another seller be found, is there ever a
one left?

DEMOSTHENES. There is yet one, who plies a firstrate trade.

NICIAS. Tell me, pray, what is that?

DEMOSTHENES. You really want to know?

NICIAS. Yes.

DEMOSTHENES. Well then! 'tis a sausage-seller who must overthrow him.

NICIAS. A sausage-seller! Ah! by Posidon! what a fine trade! But where
can this man be found?

DEMOSTHENES. Let us seek him.

NICIAS. Lo! there he is, going towards the market-place; 'tis the gods,
the gods who send him!

DEMOSTHENES. This way, this way, oh, lucky sausage-seller, come forward,
dear friend, our saviour, the saviour of our city.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What is it? Why do you call me?

DEMOSTHENES. Come here, come and learn about your good luck, you who are
Fortune's favourite!

NICIAS. Come! Relieve him of his basket-tray and tell him the oracle of
the god; I will go and look after the Paphlagonian.

DEMOSTHENES. First put down all your gear, then worship the earth and the
gods.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis done. What is the matter?

DEMOSTHENES. Happiness, riches, power; to-day you have nothing, to-morrow
you will have all, oh! chief of happy Athens.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Why not leave me to wash my tripe and to sell my sausages
instead of making game of me?

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! the fool! Your tripe! Do you see these tiers of
people? [23]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes.

DEMOSTHENES. You shall be master to them all, governor of the market, of
the harbours, of the Pnyx; you shall trample the Senate under foot, be
able to cashier the generals, load them with fetters, throw them into
gaol, and you will play the debauchee in the Prytaneum. [24]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What! I?

DEMOSTHENES. You, without a doubt. But you do not yet see all the glory
awaiting you. Stand on your basket and look at all the islands that
surround Athens. [25]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I see them. What then?

DEMOSTHENES. Look at the storehouses and the shipping.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, I am looking.

DEMOSTHENES. Exists there a mortal more blest than you? Furthermore, turn
your right eye towards Caria and your left towards Chalcedon. [26]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis then a blessing to squint!

DEMOSTHENES. No, but 'tis you who are going to trade away all this.
According to the oracle you must become the greatest of men.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Just tell me how a sausage-seller can become a great man.

DEMOSTHENES. That is precisely why you will be great, because you are a
sad rascal without shame, no better than a common market rogue.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I do not hold myself worthy of wielding power.

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! by the gods! Why do you not hold yourself worthy? Have
you then such a good opinion of yourself? Come, are you of honest
parentage?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. By the gods! No! of very bad indeed.

DEMOSTHENES. Spoilt child of fortune, everything fits together to ensure
your greatness.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. But I have not had the least education. I can only read,
and that very badly.

DEMOSTHENES. That is what may stand in your way, almost knowing how to
read.
The demagogues will neither have an educated nor an honest man;
they require an ignoramus and a rogue. But do not, do not let go this
gift, which the oracle promises.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. But what does the oracle say?

DEMOSTHENES. Faith! it is put together in very fine enigmatical style, as
elegant as it is clear: "When the eagle-tanner with the hooked claws
shall seize a stupid dragon, a blood-sucker, it will be an end to the hot
Paphlagonian pickled garlic. The god grants great glory to the
sausage-sellers unless they prefer to sell their wares. "

SAUSAGE-SELLER. In what way does this concern me? Pray instruct my
ignorance.

DEMOSTHENES. The eagle-tanner is the Paphlagonian.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What do the hooked claws mean?

DEMOSTHENES. It means to say, that he robs and pillages us with his
claw-like hands.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And the dragon?

DEMOSTHENES. That is quite clear. The dragon is long and so also is the
sausage; the sausage like the dragon is a drinker of blood. Therefore the
oracle says, that the dragon will triumph over the eagle-tanner, if he
does not let himself be cajoled with words.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. The oracles of the gods summon me! Faith! I do not at all
understand how I can be capable of governing the people.

DEMOSTHENES. Nothing simpler. Continue your trade. Mix and knead together
all the state business as you do for your sausages. To win the people,
always cook them some savoury that pleases them. Besides, you possess all
the attributes of a demagogue; a screeching, horrible voice, a perverse,
cross-grained nature and the language of the market-place. In you all is
united which is needful for governing. The oracles are in your favour,
even including that of Delphi. Come, take a chaplet, offer a libation to
the god of Stupidity[27] and take care to fight vigorously.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Who will be my ally? for the rich fear the Paphlagonian
and the poor shudder at the sight of him.

DEMOSTHENES. You will have a thousand brave Knights,[28] who detest him,
on your side; also the honest citizens amongst the spectators, those who
are men of brave hearts, and finally myself and the god. Fear not, you
will not see his features, for none have dared to make a mask resembling
him. But the public have wit enough to recognize him. [29]

NICIAS. Oh! mercy! here is the Paphlagonian!

CLEON. By the twelve gods! Woe betide you, who have too long been
conspiring against Demos. What means this Chalcidian cup? No doubt you
are provoking the Chalcidians to revolt. You shall be killed, butchered,
you brace of rogues.

DEMOSTHENES. What! are you for running away? Come, come, stand firm, bold
Sausage-seller, do not betray us. To the rescue, oh! Knights. Now is the
time. Simon, Panaetius,[30] get you to the right wing; they are coming
on; hold tight and return to the charge. I can see the dust of their
horses' hoofs; they are galloping to our aid. Courage! Repel, attack
them, put them to flight.

CHORUS. Strike, strike the villain, who has spread confusion amongst the
ranks of the Knights, this public robber, this yawning gulf of plunder,
this devouring Charybdis,[31] this villain, this villain, this villain! I
cannot say the word too often, for he _is_ a villain a thousand times a
day. Come, strike, drive, hurl him over and crush him to pieces; hate him
as we hate him; stun him with your blows and your shouts. And beware lest
he escape you; he knows the way Eucrates[32] took straight to a bran sack
for concealment.

CLEON. Oh! veteran Heliasts,[33] brotherhood of the three obols,[34] whom
I fostered by bawling at random, help me; I am being beaten to death by
rebels.

CHORUS. And 'tis justice; you devour the public funds that all should
share in; you treat the officers answerable for the revenue like the
fruit of the fig tree, squeezing them to find which are still green or
more or less ripe; and, when you find one simple and timid, you force him
to come from the Chersonese,[35] then you seize him by the middle,
throttle him by the neck, while you twist his shoulder back; he falls and
you devour him. [36] Besides, you know very well how to select from among
the citizens those who are as meek as lambs, rich, without guile and
loathers of lawsuits.

CLEON. Eh! what! Knights, are you helping them? But, if I am beaten, 'tis
in your cause, for I was going to propose to erect you a statue in the
city in memory of your bravery.

CHORUS. Oh! the impostor! the dull varlet! See! he treats us like old
dotards and crawls at our feet to deceive us; but the cunning wherein
lies his power shall this time recoil on himself; he trips up himself by
resorting to such artifices.

CLEON. Oh Citizens! oh people! see how these brutes are bursting my
belly.

CHORUS. What shouts! but 'tis this very bawling that incessantly upsets
the city!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I can shout too--and so loud that you will flee with
fear.

CHORUS. If you shout louder than he does, I will strike up the triumphal
hymn; if you surpass him in impudence, the cake is ours.

CLEON. I denounce this fellow; he has had tasty stews exported from
Athens for the Spartan fleet.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I denounce him, who runs into the Prytaneum with
empty belly and comes out with it full.

DEMOSTHENES. And by Zeus! he carries off bread, meat, and fish, which is
forbidden. Pericles himself never had this right.

CLEON. You are travelling the right road to get killed.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I'll bawl three times as loud as you.

CLEON. I will deafen you with my yells.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I you with my bellowing.

CLEON. I shall calumniate you, if you become a Strategus. [37]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Dog, I will lay your back open with the lash.

CLEON. I will make you drop your arrogance.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will baffle your machinations.

CLEON. Dare to look me in the face!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I too was brought up in the market-place.

CLEON. I will cut you to shreds if you whisper a word.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will daub you with dung if you open your mouth.

CLEON. I own I am a thief; do you admit yourself another.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. By our Hermes of the market-place, if caught in the act,
why, I perjure myself before those who saw me.

CLEON. These are my own special tricks. I will denounce you to the
Prytanes[38] as the owner of sacred tripe, that has not paid tithe.

CHORUS. Oh! you scoundrel! you impudent bawler! everything is filled with
your daring, all Attica, the Assembly, the Treasury, the decrees, the
tribunals. As a furious torrent you have overthrown our city; your
outcries have deafened Athens and, posted upon a high rock, you have lain
in wait for the tribute moneys as the fisherman does for the tunny-fish.

CLEON. I know your tricks; 'tis an old plot resoled. [39]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. If you know naught of soling, I understand nothing of
sausages; you, who cut bad leather on the slant to make it look stout and
deceive the country yokels. They had not worn it a day before it had
stretched some two spans.

DEMOSTHENES 'Tis the very trick he served me; both my neighbours and my
friends laughed heartily at me, and before I reached Pergasae[40] I was
swimming in my shoes.

CHORUS. Have you not always shown that blatant impudence, which is the
sole strength of our orators? You push it so far, that you, the head of
the State, dare to milk the purses of the opulent aliens and, at sight of
you, the son of Hippodamus[41] melts into tears. But here is another man,
who gives me pleasure, for he is a much greater rascal than you; he will
overthrow you; 'tis easy to see, that he will beat you in roguery, in
brazenness and in clever turns. Come, you, who have been brought up among
the class which to-day gives us all our great men, show us that a liberal
education is mere tomfoolery.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Just hear what sort of fellow that fine citizen is.

CLEON. Will you not let me speak?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Assuredly not, for I also am a sad rascal.

CHORUS. If he does not give in at that, tell him your parents were sad
rascals too.

CLEON. Once more, will you not let me speak?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, by Zeus!

CLEON. Yes, by Zeus, but you shall!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. No, by Posidon! We will fight first to see who shall
speak first.

CLEON. I will die sooner.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I will not let you. . . .

CHORUS. Let him, in the name of the gods, let him die.

CLEON. What makes you so bold as to dare to speak to my face?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis that I know both how to speak and how to cook.

CLEON. Hah! the fine speaker! Truly, if some business matter fell your
way, you would know thoroughly well how to attack it, to carve it up
alive! Shall I tell you what has happened to you? Like so many others,
you have gained some petty lawsuit against some alien. [42] Did you drink
enough water to inspire you? Did you mutter over the thing sufficiently
through the night, spout it along the street, recite it to all you met?
Have you bored your friends enough with it? 'Tis then for this you deem
yourself an orator. Ah! poor fool!

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And what do you drink yourself then, to be able all alone
by yourself to dumbfound and stupefy the city so with your clamour?

CLEON. Can you match me with a rival? Me! When I have devoured a good hot
tunny-fish and drunk on top of it a great jar of unmixed wine, I hold up
the Generals of Pylos to public scorn.