BDELYCLEON Can’t we now, without this outcry, and this fierce denunciation, Come to peaceful terms together, terms of reconciliation?
CHORUS Terms with THEE, thou people-hater, and with Brasidas, thou traitor, Hand and glove! You who dare Woolly-fringed Clothes to wear, Yes, and show Beard and hair Left to grow Everywhere.
BDELYCLEON O, by Zeus, I’d really liefer drop my father altogether Than endure these daily conflicts, buffeting with waves and weather.
CHORUS Why, as yet you’ve hardly entered on the parsley and the rue? (That we’ll just throw in, a sample of our three-quart words for you.) Now you care not, wait a little, till the prosecutor trounce you, Sluicing out these selfsame charges, and CONSPIRATOR denounce you.
BDELYCLEON O by all the gods I ask you, will ye never go away? Are ye quite resolved to linger, thwacked and thwacking all the day?
CHORUS Never more Will I while There’s a grain Left of me Leave your door, Traitor vile Bent to gain TYRANNY.
BDELYCLEON Ay “Conspiracy” and “Tyrant,” These with you are all in all,
BDELYCLEON Whatsoe’er is brought before you, be the matter great or small. Everywhere the name of Tyrant, now for fifty years unknown, Is than cheap salt-fish at Athens commoner and cheaper grown. Everywhere about the market it is bandied to and fro: If you wish a basse to purchase, and without a pilchard go, Straight the man who sells the pilchards grumbles from his stall hard by, Here is plainly one that caters with a view to Tyranny. If a leek, besides, you order, relish for your sprats perchance, Says the potherb-girl directly, eyeing you with looks askance, Leeks indeed! and leeks I prithee! what, with Tyranny in view? Athens must be taxed, you fancy, relish to supply for YOU!
XANTHIAS Even so a naughty damsel yesternoon observed to me, Just because I said her manners were a little bit too free, She supposed that I was wishing Hippias’s Tyranny.
BDELYCLEON Ay, by charges such as these our litigious friends they please. Now because I’d have my father (quitting all this toil and strife, This up-early-false-informing-troublesome-litigious life)
BDELYCLEON Live a life of ease and splendour, live like Morychus, you see Straight I’m charged with Tyrant leanings, charged with foul conspiracy.
PHILOCLEON Yes, by Zeus, and very justly. Not for pigeon’s milk in store I the pleasant life would barter which you let me lead no more. Nought I care for eels and rayfish: daintier food to me would seem Just a little, tiny lawsuit, dished and stifled in its steam.
BDELYCLEON Yes, for that’s the sort of dainty you, by Zeus, have loved so long. Yet I think I’ll soon convince you that your mode of life is wrong, If you can but once be silent, and to what I say give heed
PHILOCLEON I am wrong to be a dicast!
BDELYCLEON Laughed to utter scorn indeed, Mocked by men you all but worship, for you can’t their treachery see, You’re a slave, and yet don’t know it.
PHILOCLEON Name not slavery to me: I am lord of all, I tell you.
BDELYCLEON You’re the veriest drudge, I vow, Thinking that you’re lord of all. For come, my father, teach us now, If you reap the fruits of Hellas, what’s the benefit to you?
PHILOCLEON Willingly. Let these be umpires.
BDELYCLEON I’ll accept their judgement too. Now then all at once release him.
PHILOCLEON And besides a sword supply,
PHILOCLEON If in this dispute I’m worsted, here upon this sword I’ll die.
BDELYCLEON But suppose you won’t their final (what’s the phrase) award obey?
PHILOCLEON May I never drink thereafter, pure and neat, good fortune’s—pay.
CHORUS Now must the champion, going Out of our school, be showing Keen wit and genius new,
BDELYCLEON Bring forth my memorandum-book: bring forth my desk to write in, I’ll quickly show you what you’re like, if that’s your style of fighting.
CHORUS In quite another fashion To aught this youth can do. Stern is the strife and anxious For all our earthly good, If he intends to conquer, Which Heaven forfend he should.
BDELYCLEON Now I’ll observe his arguments, and take a note of each.
PHILOCLEON What would you say, if he to-day should make the conquering speech?
CHORUS Ah! should that mischance befall us, Our old troop were nothing worth: In the streets with ribald mirth Idle boys would dotards call us, Fit for nought but olive-bearing, Shrivelled husks of counter swearing. O friend upon whom it devolves to plead the cause of our Sovereign Power to-day, Now show us your best; now bring to the test each trick that an eloquent tongue can play.
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