No More Learning

CARIO. No, not of stone.

WIFE. But how could you see all this, you arch-rascal, when you say you
were hiding all the time?

CARIO. Why, great gods, through my cloak, for 'tis not without holes! He
first prepared an ointment for Neoclides; he threw three heads of
Tenian[785] garlic into the mortar, pounded them with an admixture of
fig-tree sap and lentisk, moistened the whole with Sphettian[786]
vinegar, and, turning back the patient's eyelids, applied his salve to
the interior of the eyes, so that the pain might be more excruciating.
Neoclides shrieked, howled, sprang towards the foot of his bed and wanted
to bolt, but the god laughed and said to him, "Keep where you are with
your salve; by doing this you will not go and perjure yourself before the
Assembly. "

WIFE What a wise god and what a friend to our city!

CARIO. Thereupon he came and seated himself at the head of Plutus' bed,
took a perfectly clean rag and wiped his eye-lids; Panacea covered his
head and face with a purple cloth, while the god whistled, and two
enormous snakes came rushing from the sanctuary.

WIFE. Great gods!

CARIO. They slipped gently beneath the purple cloth and, as far as I
could judge, licked the patient's eyelids; for, in less time than even
you need, mistress, to drain down ten beakers of wine, Plutus rose up; he
could see.
I clapped my hands with joy and awoke my master, and the god
immediately disappeared with the serpents into the sanctuary. As for
those who were lying near Plutus, you can imagine that they embraced him
tenderly. Dawn broke and not one of them had closed an eye. As for
myself, I did not cease thanking the god who had so quickly restored to
Plutus his sight and had made Neoclides blinder than ever.

WIFE. Oh! thou great Aesculapius! How mighty is thy power! (_To Cario. _)
But tell me, where is Plutus now?

CARIO. He is approaching, escorted by an immense crowd. The rich, whose
wealth is ill-gotten, are knitting their brows and shooting at him looks
of fierce hate, while the just folk, who led a wretched existence,
embrace him and grasp his hand in the transport of their joy; they follow
in his wake, their heads wreathed with garlands, laughing and blessing
their deliverer; the old men make the earth resound as they walk together
keeping time. Come, all of you, all, down to the very least, dance, leap
and form yourselves into a chorus; no longer do you risk being told, when
you go home, "There is no meal in the bag. "

WIFE. And I, by Hecate!