No More Learning

DIONYSUS. You are quite right; but you should have thought of that before
you beat us.

CHORUS. Oh! Muse, take part in our sacred choruses; our songs will
enchant you and you shall see a people of wise men, eager for a nobler
glory than that of Cleophon,[453] the braggart, the swallow, who deafens
us with his hoarse cries, while perched upon a Thracian tree. He whines
in his barbarian tongue and repeats the lament of Philomela with good
reason, for even if the votes were equally divided, he would have to
perish. [454]

The sacred chorus owes the city its opinion and its wise lessons. First I
demand that equality be restored among the citizens, so that none may be
disquieted. If there be any whom the artifices of Phrynichus have drawn
into any error,[455] let us allow them to offer their excuses and let us
forget these old mistakes. Furthermore, that there be not a single
citizen in Athens who is deprived of his rights; otherwise would it not
be shameful to see slaves become masters and treated as honourably as
Plataeans, because they helped in a single naval fight? [456] Not that I
censure this step, for, on the contrary I approve it; 'tis the sole thing
you have done that is sensible. But those citizens, both they and their
fathers, have so often fought with you and are allied to you by ties of
blood, so ought you not to listen to their prayers and pardon them their
single fault? Nature has given you wisdom, therefore let your anger cool
and let all those who have fought together on Athenian galleys live in
brotherhood and as fellow-citizens, enjoying the same equal rights; to
show ourselves proud and intractable about granting the rights of the
city, especially at a time when we are riding at the mercy of the
waves,[457] is a folly, of which we shall later repent.

If I am adept at reading the destiny or the soul of a man, the fatal hour
for little Cligenes[458] is near, that unbearable ape, the greatest rogue
of all the washermen, who use a mixture of ashes and Cimolian earth and
call it potash. [458] He knows it; hence he is always armed for war; for
he fears, if he ventures forth without his bludgeon, he would be stripped
of his clothes when he is drunk.
I have often noticed that there are good and honest citizens in Athens,
who are as old gold is to new money. The ancient coins are excellent in
point of standard; they are assuredly the best of all moneys; they alone
are well struck and give a pure ring; everywhere they obtain currency,
both in Greece and in strange lands; yet we make no use of them and
prefer those bad copper pieces quite recently issued and so wretchedly
struck. Exactly in the same way do we deal with our citizens. If we know
them to be well-born, sober, brave, honest, adepts in the exercises of
the gymnasium and in the liberal arts, they are the butts of our
contumely and we have only a use for the petty rubbish, consisting of
strangers, slaves and low-born folk not worth a whit more, mushrooms of
yesterday, whom formerly Athens would not have even wanted as scapegoats.
Madmen, do change your ways at last; employ the honest men afresh; if you
are fortunate through doing this, 'twill be but right, and if Fate
betrays you, the wise will at least praise you for having fallen
honourably.

AEACUS. By Zeus, the Deliverer! what a brave man your master is.

XANTHIAS. A brave man! I should think so indeed, for he only knows how to
drink and to make love!

AEACUS. He has convicted you of lying and did not thrash the impudent
rascal who had dared to call himself the master.

XANTHIAS. Ah! he would have rued it if he had.