XANTHIAS
No, Philocleon, no never, by Posidon!
PHILOCLEON
Well then, I shall gnaw through the net with my teeth.
XANTHIAS
But you have no teeth.
PHILOCLEON
Oh! you
rascal, how can I kill you? How? Give me a sword, quick,
or a
conviction tablet.
BDELYCLEON
Our friend is planning some great crime.
PHILOCLEON
No, by Zeus! but I want to go and sell my ass and its panniers,
for it's the first of the month.
BDELYCLEON
Could I not sell it just as well?
PHILOCLEON
Not as well as I could.
BDELYCLEON
No, but better.
PHILOCLEON
Bring out the ass anyway.
XANTHIAS
What a clever excuse he has found now! What
cunning to get you
to let him go out!
BDELYCLEON
Yes, but I have not swallowed the hook; I scented the trick. I
will go in and fetch the ass, so that the old man may not point his
weapons that way again. (He goes in, returning immediately with the
ass.) Stupid old ass, are you
weeping because you are going to be
sold? Come, go a bit quicker. Why, what are you moaning and groaning
for? You might be carrying another Odysseus.
XANTHIAS
Why, certainly, so he is! someone has crept beneath his belly.
BDELYCLEON
Who, who? Let's see. Why it's he! What does this mean? Who are
you? Come, speak!
PHILOCLEON
I am Noman.
BDELYCLEON
Noman? Of what country?
PHILOCLEON
Of Ithaca, son of Apodrasippides.
BDELYCLEON
Ha! Mister Noman, you will not laugh
presently. Pull him out
quick. Ah! the
wretch, where has he crept to? Does he not
resemble a
she-ass to the life?
PHILOCLEON
If you do not leave me in peace, I shall sue.
BDELYCLEON
And what will the suit be about?
PHILOCLEON
The shade of an ass.
BDELYCLEON
You are a poor man of very little wit, but
thoroughly brazen.
PHILOCLEON
A poor man! Ah! by Zeus! you know not now what I am worth; but you
will know when you disembowel the old Heliast's money-bag.
BDELYCLEON
Come, get back
indoors, both you and your ass.
PHILOCLEON
Oh! my brethren of the tribunal! oh! Cleon! to the rescue!
BDELYCLEON
Go and bawl in there under lock and key. And you there, pile
plenty of stones against the door,
thrust the bolt home into the
staple, and to keep this beam in its place roll that great mortar
against it. Quick's the word.
XANTHIAS
Oh! my god!
whence did this brick fall on me?
BDELYCLEON
Perhaps a rat loosened it.
XANTHIAS
A rat? it's surely our gutter-judge, who has crept beneath the
tiles of the roof.
BDELYCLEON
Ah! woe to us! there he is, he has turned into a
sparrow; he
will be flying off. Where is the net? where? Shoo! shoo! get back! Ah!
by Zeus! I would rather have to guard Scione than such a father.
XANTHIAS
And now that we have
driven him in
thoroughly and he can no longer
escape without our knowledge, can we not have a few winks of sleep, no
matter how few?
BDELYCLEON
Why,
wretch! the other jurymen will be here almost directly to
summon my father!
XANTHIAS
Why, it's scarcely dawn yet!
BDELYCLEON
Ah, they must have risen late to-day. Generally it is the middle
of the night when they come to fetch him. They arrive here, carrying
lanterns in their hands and singing the
charming old verses of
Phrynichus' Sidonian Women; it's their way of
calling him.
XANTHIAS
Well, if need be, we will chase them off with stones.
BDELYCLEON
What! you dare to speak so? Why, this class of old men, if
irritated, becomes as terrible as a swarm of wasps. They carry below
their loins the sharpest of stings, with which to prick their foes;
they shout and leap and their stings burn like so many sparks.
XANTHIAS
Have no fear! If I can find stones to throw into this nest of
jurymen-wasps, I shall soon have them cleared off.
(Enter the CHORUS,
composed of old men costumed as wasps.)
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
March on, advance
boldly and bravely! Comias, your feet are
dragging; once you were as tough as a dog-skin strap and now even
Charinades walks better than you. Ha! Strymodorus of Conthyle, you
best of mates, where is Euergides and where is Chabes of Phlya? Ha,
ha, bravo! there you are, the last of the lads with whom we mounted
guard together at Byzantium. Do you remember how, one night,
prowling round, we
noiselessly stole the kneading-trough of a
baker's wife; we split it in two and cooked our green-stuff with
it.-But let us
hasten, for the case of Laches comes on to-day, and
they all say he has embezzled a pot of money. Hence Cleon, our
protector, advised us
yesterday to come early and with a three days'
stock of fiery rage so as to
chastise him for his crimes. Let us
hurry, comrades, before it is light; come, let us search every nook
with our lanterns to see whether those who wish us ill have not set us
some trap.
BOY
Father, father, watch out for the mud.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
Pick up a blade of straw and trim your lamp.
BOY
No. I can trim it quite well with my finger.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
Why do you pull out the wick, you little dolt? Oil is scarce,
and it's not you who suffer when it has to be paid for. (Strikes him.)
BOY
If you teach us again with your fists, we shall put out the
lamps and go home; then you will have no light and will squatter about
in the mud like ducks in the dark.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
I know how to
punish offenders bigger than you. But I think I am
treading in some mud. Oh! it's certain it will rain in torrents for
four days at least; look at the snuff in our lamps; that is always a
sign of heavy rain; but the rain and the north wind will be good for
the crops that are still
standing. Why, what can have happened to
our mate, who lives here? Why does he not come to join our party?
There used to be no need to haul him in our wake, for he would march
at our head singing the verses of Phrynichus; he was a lover of
singing. Should we not, friends, make a halt here and sing to call him
out? The charm of my voice will fetch him out, if he hears it.
CHORUS (singing)
Why does the old man not show himself before the door? Why does he
not answer? Has he lost his shoes? has he stubbed his toe in the
dark and thus got a
swollen ankle? Perhaps he has a tumour in his
groin. He was the hardest of us all; he alone never allowed himself to
be moved. If anyone tried to move him, he would lower his head,
saying, "You might just as well try to boil a stone." But I bethink
me, an accused man escaped us
yesterday through his false pretence
that he loved Athens and had been the first to
unfold the Samian plot.
Perhaps his acquittal has so distressed Philocleon that he is abed
with fever-he is quite
capable of such a thing.-Friend, arise, do
not thus vex your heart, but forget your wrath. To-day we have to
judge a man made
wealthy by-treason, one of those who set Thrace free;
we have to prepare him a
funeral urn....so march on, my boy, get
going.
(Here a duet begins between the BOY and the CHORUS.)
BOY
Father, would you give me something if I asked for it?
CHORUS
Assuredly, my child, but tell me what nice thing do you want me to
buy you? A set of knuckle-bones, I suppose.
BOY
No, father, I prefer figs; they are better.
CHORUS
No, by Zeus! even if you were to hang yourself with vexation.
BOY
Well then, I will lead you no farther.
CHORUS
With my small pay, I am obliged to buy bread, wood, and stew;
and now you ask me for figs!
BOY
But, father, if the Archon should not form a court to-day, how are
we to buy our dinner? Have you some good hope to offer us or only
"Helle's
sacred waves"?
CHORUS
Alas! alas! I have not a notion how we shall dine.
BOY
Oh! my poor mother! why did you let me see this day?
CHORUS
So that you might give me troubles to feed on.
BOY
Little
wallet, you seem like to be a mere
useless ornament!
BOY AND CHORUS
It is our
destiny to groan.
PHILOCLEON (appearing at an upper window; singing)
My friends, I have long been pining away while listening to you
from my window, but I
absolutely know not what to do. I am detained
here, because I have long wanted to go with you to the law-court and
do all the harm I can. Oh! Zeus! cause the peals of thy
thunder to
roll, change me quickly into smoke or make me into a Proxenides, a
tissue of falsehoods, like the son of Sellus. Oh, King of Heaven!
hesitate not to grant me this favour, pity my
misfortune or else may
thy dazzling
lightninginstantly reduce me to ashes; then carry me
hence, and may thy
breath hurl me into some strong, hot marinade or
turn me into one of the stones on which the votes are counted.
CHORUS (singing)
Who is it detains you and shuts you in? Speak, for you are talking
to friends.