No More Learning

You stir me to the bottom of my heart! I am all ears! I cannot syllable
what I feel.

BDELYCLEON. Consider then; you might be rich, both you and all the
others; I know not why you let yourself be fooled by these folk who call
themselves the people's friends. A myriad of towns obey you, from the
Euxine to Sardis. What do you gain thereby? Nothing but this miserable
pay, and even that is like the oil with which the flock of wool is
impregnated and is doled to you drop by drop, just enough to keep you
from dying of hunger. They want you to be poor, and I will tell you why.
'Tis so that you may know only those who nourish you, and so that, if it
pleases them to loose you against one of their foes, you shall leap upon
him with fury. If they wished to assure the well-being of the people,
nothing would be easier for them. We have now a thousand towns that pay
us tribute; let them command each of these to feed twenty Athenians; then
twenty thousand of our citizens would be eating nothing but hare, would
drink nothing but the purest of milk, and always crowned with garlands,
would be enjoying the delights to which the great name of their country
and the trophies of Marathon give them the right; whereas to-day you are
like the hired labourers who gather the olives; you follow him who pays
you.

PHILOCLEON. Alas! my hand is benumbed; I can no longer draw my sword.
[78]
What has become of my strength?

BDELYCLEON. When they are afraid, they promise to divide Euboea[79] among
you and to give each fifty bushels of wheat, but what have they given
you? Nothing excepting, quite recently, five bushels of barley, and even
these you have only obtained with great difficulty, on proving you were
not aliens, and then choenix by choenix. [80] That is why I always kept
you shut in; I wanted you to be fed by me and no longer at the beck of
these blustering braggarts. Even now I am ready to let you have all you
want, provided you no longer let yourself be suckled by the pay-clerk.

CHORUS. He was right who said, "Decide nothing till you have heard both
sides," for it seems to me, that 'tis you who now gain the complete
victory. My wrath is appeased, I throw away my sticks. Come, comrade, our
contemporary, let yourself be gained over by his words; come, do not be
too obstinate or too perverse. Why have I no relation, no ally to speak
to me like this? Do not doubt it, 'tis a god who is now protecting you
and loading you with his benefits. Accept them.

BDELYCLEON. I will feed him, I will give him everything that is suitable
for an old man, oatmeal gruel, a cloak, soft furs and a maid to rub his
loins and play with his tool. But he is silent and utters not a word;
'tis a bad sign.