CHORUS Proud, O Demus, thy sway. Thee, as Tyrant and King, All men fear and obey, Yet, O yet, ’tis a thing Easy, to lead thee astray. Empty fawning and praise Pleased thou art to receive; All each orator says Sure at once to believe; Wit thou hast, but ’tis roaming; Ne’er we find it its home in.
DEMUS Wit there’s none in your hair. What, you think me a fool! What, you know not I wear, Wear my motley by rule! Well all day do I fare, Nursed and cockered by all; Pleased to fatten and train One prime thief in my stall. When full gorged with his gain, Up that instant I snatch him, Strike one blow and dispatch him.
CHORUS Well for all if thou keep Firm to this thy design. Well for all if, as sheep Marked for victims, thou feed These thy knaves in the Pnyx, Then, if dainties thou need, Haste on a victim to fix; Slay the fattest and finest; There’s thy meal when thou dinest.
DEMUS Ah! they know not that I Watch them plunder and thieve. Ah! ’tis easy, they cry, Him to gull and deceive. Comes my turn by and by! Down their gullet, full quick, Lo, my verdict-tube coils, Turns them giddy and sick, Up they vomit their spoils: Such, with rogues, is my dealing, ’Tis for myself they are stealing.
PAPHLAGON Go and be blest!
SAUSAGE-SELLER Be blest yourself, you filth.
PAPHLAGON O Demus, I’ve been sitting here prepared Three ages past, longing to do you good.
SAUSAGE-SELLER And I ten ages, aye twelve ages, aye A thousand ages, ages, ages, ages.
DEMUS And I’ve been waiting, till I loathe you both, For thirty thousand ages, ages, ages.
SAUSAGE-SELLER Do—know you what?
DEMUS And if I don’t, you’ll tell me.
SAUSAGE-SELLER Do start us from the signal-post, us two, All fair, no favour.
DEMUS Right you are; move off.
PAPHLAGON AND SAUSAGE-SELLER Ready!
DEMUS Away!
SAUSAGE-SELLER No “cutting in” allowed.
DEMUS Zeus! if I don’t, with these two lovers, have A rare good time, ’tis dainty I must be.
PAPHLAGON See, I’m the first to bring you out a chair,
SAUSAGE-SELLER But not a table; I’m the firstlier there.
PAPHLAGON Look, here’s a jolly little cake I bring, Cooked from the barley-grain I brought from Pylus.
SAUSAGE-SELLER And here I’m bringing splendid scoops of bread, Scooped by the Goddess with her ivory hand.
DEMUS A mighty finger you must have, dread lady!
PAPHLAGON And here’s pease-porridge, beautiful and brown. Pallas Pylaemachus it was that stirred it.
SAUSAGE-SELLER O Demus, plain it is the Goddess guards you, Holding above your head this—soup-tureen.
DEMUS Why, think you Athens had survived, unless She plainly o’er us held her soup-tureen?
PAPHLAGON This slice of fish the Army-frightener sends you.
SAUSAGE-SELLER This boiled broth-meat the Nobly-fathered gives you, And this good cut of tripe and guts and paunch.
DEMUS And well done she, to recollect the peplus.
PAPHLAGON The Terror-crested bids you taste this cake
PAPHLAGON With roe of fish, that we may row the better.
SAUSAGE-SELLER And now take these.
DEMUS Whatever shall I do With these insides?
SAUSAGE-SELLER The Goddess sends you these To serve as planks inside your ships of war. Plainly she looks with favour on our fleet. Here, drink this also, mingled three and two.
DEMUS Zeus! but it’s sweet and bears the three parts well.
SAUSAGE-SELLER Tritogeneia ’twas that three’d and two’d it.
PAPHLAGON Accept from me this slice of luscious cake.
SAUSAGE-SELLER And this whole luscious cake accept from me.
PAPHLAGON Ah, you’ve no hare to give him; that give I.
SAUSAGE-SELLER O me, wherever can I get some hare? Now for some mountebank device, my soul.
PAPHLAGON Yah, see you this, poor Witless?
SAUSAGE-SELLER What care I? For there they are! Yes, there they are coming!
PAPHLAGON Who?
SAUSAGE-SELLER Envoys with bags of silver, all for me.
PAPHLAGON Where? Where?
SAUSAGE-SELLER What’s that to you? Let be the strangers. My darling Demus, take the hare I bring.
PAPHLAGON You thief, you’ve given what wasn’t yours to give!
SAUSAGE-SELLER Poseidon, yes; you did the same at Pylus.
DEMUS Ha! Ha! what made you think of filching that?
SAUSAGE-SELLER The thought’s Athene’s, but the theft was mine.
DEMOSTHENES ’Twas I that ran the risk!
PAPHLAGON ’Twas I that cooked it!
DEMUS Be off: the credit’s his that served it up.
PAPHLAGON Unhappy me! I’m over-impudenced.
SAUSAGE-SELLER Why not give judgement, Demus, of us two Which is the better towards your paunch and you?
DEMUS Well, what’s the test will make the audience think I give my judgement cleverly and well?
SAUSAGE-SELLER I’ll tell you what; steal softly up, and search My hamper first, then Paphlagon’s, and note What’s in them; then you’ll surely judge aright.
DEMUS Well, what does yours contain?
SAUSAGE-SELLER See here, it’s empty. Dear Father mine, I served up all for you.
DEMUS A Demus-loving hamper, sure enough.
SAUSAGE-SELLER Now come along, and look at Paphlagon’s. Hey! only see!
DEMUS Why here’s a store of dainties! Why, here’s a splendid cheesecake he put by! And me he gave the tiniest slice, so big.
SAUSAGE-SELLER And, Demus, that is what he always does; Gives you the pettiest morsel of his gains, And keeps by far the largest share himself.
DEMUS O miscreant, did you steal and gull me so, The while I crowned thy pow and gied thee gifties.
PAPHLAGON And if I stole ’twas for the public good.
DEMUS Off with your crown this instant, and I’ll place it On him instead.
SAUSAGE-SELLER
Off with it, filth, this instant.
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