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The Knights [0]

By Root 205 0



420 BC

THE KNIGHTS

by Aristophanes

anonymous translator




CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY



DEMOSTHENES

NICIAS

AGORACRITUS, a Sausage-Seller

CLEON

DEMOS

CHORUS OF KNIGHTS

KNIGHTS

(SCENE:-The Orchestra represents the Pnyx at Athens; in the back-

ground is the house of DEMOS.)



DEMOSTHENES

Oh! alas! alas! alas! Oh! woe! oh! woe! Miserable Paphlagonian!

may the gods destroy both him and his cursed advice! Since that evil

day when this new slave entered the house he has never ceased

belabouring us with blows.

NICIAS

May the plague seize him, the arch-fiend-him and his lying tales!

DEMOSTHENES

Hah! my poor fellow, what is your condition?

NICIAS

Very wretched, just like your own.

DEMOSTHENES

Then come, let us sing a duet of groans in the style of Olympus.

DEMOSTHENES AND NICIAS

Boo, hoo! boo, hoo! boo, hoo! boo, hoo! boo, hoo! boo, hoo!!

DEMOSTHENES

Bah! it's lost labour to weep! Enough of groaning! Let us consider

now to save our pelts.

NICIAS

But how to do it! Can you suggest anything?

DEMOSTHENES

No, you begin. I cede you the honour.

NICIAS

By Apollo! no, not I. Come, have courage! Speak, and then I will

say what I think.

DEMOSTHENES (in tragic style)

"Ah! would you but tell me what I should tell you!

NICIAS

I dare not. How could I express my thoughts with the pomp of

Euripides?

DEMOSTHENES

Oh! please spare me! Do not pelt me with those vegetables, but

find some way of leaving our master.

NICIAS

Well, then! Say "Let-us-bolt," like this, in one breath.

DEMOSTHENES

I follow you-'Let-us-bolt."

NICIAS

Now after "Let-us-bolt" say "at-top-speed

DEMOSTHENES

"At-top-speed!

NICIAS

Splendid! just as if you were masturbating; first slowly,

"Let-us-bolt"; then quick and firmly, "at-top-speed!"

DEMOSTHENES

Let-us-bolt, let-us-bolt-at-top-speed!

NICIAS

Hah! does that not please you?

DEMOSTHENES

Yes, indeed, yet I fear your omen bodes no good to my hide.

NICIAS

How so?

DEMOSTHENES

Because masturbation chafes the skin.

NICIAS

The best thing we can do for the moment is to throw ourselves at

the feet of the statue of some god.

DEMOSTHENES

Of which statue? Any statue? Do you then believe there are gods?

NICIAS

Certainly.

DEMOSTHENES

What proof have you?

NICIAS

The proof that they have taken a grudge against me. Is that not

enough?

DEMOSTHENES

I'm convinced it is. But to pass on. Do you consent to my

telling the spectators of our troubles?

NICIAS

There's nothing wrong with that, and we might ask them to show

us by their manner, whether our facts and actions are to their liking.

DEMOSTHENES

I will begin then. We have a very brutal master, a perfect glutton

for beans, and most bad-tempered; it's Demos of the Pnyx, an

intolerable old man and half deaf. The beginning of last month he

bought a slave, a Paphlagonian tanner, an arrant rogue, the

incarnation of calumny. This man of leather knows his old master

thoroughly; he plays the fawning cur, flatters, cajoles, wheedles, and

dupes him at will with little scraps of leavings, which he allows

him to get. "Dear Demos," he will say, "try a single case and you will

have done enough; then take your bath, eat, swallow and devour; here

are three obols." Then the Paphlagonian filches from one of us what we

have prepared and makes a present of it to our old man. The other

day I had just kneaded a Spartan cake at Pylos, the cunning rogue came

behind my back, sneaked it and offered the cake, which was my

invention, in his own name. He keeps us at a
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