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The Wasps [4]

By Root 292 0
a stone." But I bethink

me, an accused man escaped us yesterday through his false pretence

that he loved Athens and had been the first to unfold the Samian plot.

Perhaps his acquittal has so distressed Philocleon that he is abed

with fever-he is quite capable of such a thing.-Friend, arise, do

not thus vex your heart, but forget your wrath. To-day we have to

judge a man made wealthy by-treason, one of those who set Thrace free;

we have to prepare him a funeral urn....so march on, my boy, get

going.

(Here a duet begins between the BOY and the CHORUS.)

BOY

Father, would you give me something if I asked for it?

CHORUS

Assuredly, my child, but tell me what nice thing do you want me to

buy you? A set of knuckle-bones, I suppose.

BOY

No, father, I prefer figs; they are better.

CHORUS

No, by Zeus! even if you were to hang yourself with vexation.

BOY

Well then, I will lead you no farther.

CHORUS

With my small pay, I am obliged to buy bread, wood, and stew;

and now you ask me for figs!

BOY

But, father, if the Archon should not form a court to-day, how are

we to buy our dinner? Have you some good hope to offer us or only

"Helle's sacred waves"?

CHORUS

Alas! alas! I have not a notion how we shall dine.

BOY

Oh! my poor mother! why did you let me see this day?

CHORUS

So that you might give me troubles to feed on.

BOY

Little wallet, you seem like to be a mere useless ornament!

BOY AND CHORUS

It is our destiny to groan.

PHILOCLEON (appearing at an upper window; singing)

My friends, I have long been pining away while listening to you

from my window, but I absolutely know not what to do. I am detained

here, because I have long wanted to go with you to the law-court and

do all the harm I can. Oh! Zeus! cause the peals of thy thunder to

roll, change me quickly into smoke or make me into a Proxenides, a

tissue of falsehoods, like the son of Sellus. Oh, King of Heaven!

hesitate not to grant me this favour, pity my misfortune or else may

thy dazzling lightning instantly reduce me to ashes; then carry me

hence, and may thy breath hurl me into some strong, hot marinade or

turn me into one of the stones on which the votes are counted.

CHORUS (singing)

Who is it detains you and shuts you in? Speak, for you are talking

to friends.

PHILOCLEON (singing)

My son. But no bawling, he is there in front asleep; lower your

voice.

CHORUS (singing)

But, poor fellow, what is his aim? what is his object?

PHILOCLEON (singing)

My friends, he will not have me judge nor do anyone any ill, but

he wants me to stay at home and enjoy myself, and I will not. And does

this wretch, this Demologocleon dare to say such odious things, just

because you tell the truth about our navy? He would not have dared,

had he not been a conspirator.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

But meanwhile, you must devise some new dodge, so that you can

come down here without his knowledge.

PHILOCLEON

But what? Try to find some way. For myself, I am ready for

anything, so much do I burn to run along the tiers of the tribunal

with my voting-pebble in my hand.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

There is surely some hole through which you could manage to

squeeze from within, and escape dressed in rags, like the crafty

Odysseus.

PHILOCLEON

Everything is sealed fast; not so much as a gnat could get

through. Think of some other plan; there is no possible hole of

escape.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Do you recall how, when you were with the army at the taking of

Naxos, you descended so readily from the top of the wall by means of

the spits you had stolen?

PHILOCLEON

I remember that well enough, but what connection is there with

present circumstances? I was young, clever at thieving, I had all my

strength, none watched over me, and I could
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