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.
I fostered by bawling at random, help me; I am being beaten to death by
rebels.
Aristophanes
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.
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.
