You
resemble
those young men who do not
know where to choose their lovers; you repulse honest folk; to earn your
favours, one has to be a lamp-seller, a cobbler, a tanner or a currier.
Aristophanes
my olive
branch, which they have torn down![84] Ah! 'tis you, Paphlagonian. And
who, pray, has been maltreating you?
CLEON. You are the cause of this man and these young people having
covered me with blows.
DEMOS. And why?
CLEON Because you love me passionately, Demos.
DEMOS. And you, who are you?
SAUSAGE-SELLER. His rival. For many a long year have I loved you, have I
wished to do you honour, I and a crowd of other men of means. But this
rascal here has prevented us.
You
resemble
those young men who do not
know where to choose their lovers; you repulse honest folk; to earn your
favours, one has to be a lamp-seller, a cobbler, a tanner or a currier.
CLEON. I am the benefactor of the people.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. In what way, an it please you?
CLEON. In what way? I supplanted the Generals at Pylos, I hurried thither
and I brought back the Laconian captives.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, whilst simply loitering, cleared off with a pot
from a shop, which another fellow had been boiling.
CLEON. Demos, convene the assembly at once to decide which of us two
loves you best and most merits your favour.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, yes, provided it be not at the Pnyx.
DEMOS. I could not sit elsewhere; 'tis at the Pnyx, that you must appear
before me.
