The Eleven Comedies, vol 2 | Page 4

I not the
most unfortunate of men? Henceforward, I shall only be called the son
of the smoky old man. Slave, hold the door stoutly, throw your weight
upon it, come, put heart into the work. I will come and help you. Watch
both lock and bolt. Take care he does not gnaw through the peg.
PHILOCLEON. What are you dong, you wretches? Let me go out; it is
imperative that I go and judge, or Dracontides will be acquitted.
BDELYCLEON. What a dreadful calamity for you!
PHILOCLEON. Once at Delphi, the god, whom I was consulting,
foretold, that if an accused man escaped me, I should die of
consumption.
BDELYCLEON. Apollo, the Saviour, what a prophecy!
PHILOCLEON. Ah! I beseech you, if you do not want my death, let
me go.
BDELYCLEON. No, Philocleon, no never, by Posidon!
PHILOCLEON. Well then, I shall gnaw through the net[33] with my
teeth.
BDELYCLEON. But you have no teeth.
PHILOCLEON. Oh! you rascal, how can I kill you? How? Give me a
sword, quick, or a conviction tablet.

BDELYCLEON. Our friend is planning some great crime.
PHILOCLEON. No, by Zeus! but I want to go and sell my ass and its
panniers, for 'this the first of the month.[34]
BDELYCLEON. Could I not sell it just as well?
PHILOCLEON. Not as well as I could.
BDELYCLEON. No, but better. Come, bring it here, bring it here by
all means--if you can.
XANTHIAS. What a clever excuse he has found now! What cunning to
get you to let him go out!
BDELYCLEON. Yes, but I have not swallowed the hook; I scented the
trick. I will no in and fetch the ass, so that the old man may not point
his weapons that way again....[35] Stupid old ass, are you weeping
because you are going to be sold? Come, go a bit quicker. Why, what
are you moaning and groaning for? You might be carrying another
Odysseus.[36]
XANTHIAS. Why, certainly, so he is! someone has crept beneath his
belly.
BDELYCLEON. Who, who? Let us see.
XANTHIAS. 'Tis he.
BDELYCLEON. What does this mean? Who are you? Come, speak!
PHILOCLEON. I am Nobody.
BDELYCLEON. Nobody? Of what country?
PHILOCLEON. Of Ithaca, son of Apodrasippides.[37]
BDELYCLEON. Ha! Mister Nobody, you will not laugh presently.
Pull him out quick! Ah! the wretch, where has be crept to? Does he not

resemble a she-ass to the life?
PHILOCLEON. If you do not leave me in peace, I shall commence
proceedings.
BDELYCLEON. And what will the suit be about?
PHILOCLEON. The shade of an ass.[38]
BDELYCLEON. You are a poor man of very little wit, but thoroughly
brazen.
PHILOCLEON. A poor man! Ah! by Zeus! you know not now what I
am worth; but you will know when you disembowel the old Heliast's
money bag.[39]
BDELYCLEON. Come, get back indoors, both you and your ass.
PHILOCLEON. Oh! my brethren of the tribunal! oh! Cleon! to the
rescue!
BDELYCLEON. Go and bawl in there under lock and key. And you
there, pile plenty of stones against the door, thrust the bolt home into
the staple, and to keep this beam in its place roll that great mortar
against it. Quick's the word.
SOSIAS. Oh! my god! whence did this brick fall on me?
XANTHIAS. Perhaps a rat loosened it.
SOSIAS. A rat? 'tis surely our gutter-judge,[40] who has crept beneath
the tiles of the roof.
XANTHIAS. Ah! woe to us! there he is, he has turned into a sparrow;
he will be flying off. Where is the net? where? pschit! pschit! get back!
BDELYCLEON. Ah! by Zeus! I would rather have to guard Scioné[41]
than such a father.

SOSIAS. And how that we have driven him in thoroughly and he can
no longer escape without our knowledge, can we not have a few winks
of sleep, no matter how few?
BDELYCLEON. Why, wretch! the other jurymen will be here almost
directly to summon my father!
SOSIAS. Why, 'tis scarcely dawn yet!
BDELYCLEON. Ah, they must have risen late to-day. Generally it is
the middle of the night when they come to fetch him. They arrive here,
carrying lanterns in their hands and singing the charming old verses of
Phrynichus' "Sidonian Women";[42] 'tis their way of calling him.
SOSIAS. Well, if need be, we will chase them off with stones.
BDELYCLEON. What! you dare to speak so? Why, this class of old
men, if irritated, becomes as terrible as a swarm of wasps. They carry
below their loins the sharpest of stings, with which to sting their foe;
they shout and leap and their stings burn like so many sparks.
SOSIAS. Have no fear! If I can find stones to throw into this nest of
jurymen-wasps, I shall soon have them cleared off.
CHORUS. March on, advance boldly and bravely! Comias, your feet