The Knights ebook

Contents

CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY

Demosthenes

Nicias

Agoracritus, a Sausage-Seller

Cleon

Demos

Chorus of knights

[Scene:-The Orchestra represents the Pnyx at Athens; in the background 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 distance and suffers none but himself to wait upon the master; when Demos is dining, he keeps close to his side with a thong in his hand and puts the orators to flight. He keeps singing oracles to him, so that the old man now thinks of nothing but the Sibyl. Then, when he sees him thoroughly obfuscated, he uses all his cunning and piles up lies and calumnies against the household; then we are scourged and the Paphlagonian runs about among the slaves to demand contributions with threats and gathers them in with both hands. He will say, “You see how I have had Hylas beaten! Either content me or die at once!” We are forced to give, for otherwise the old man tramples on us and makes us crap forth all our body contains. [To Nicias] There must be an end to it, friend Let us see! what can be done? Who will get us out of this mess?

Nicias

The best thing, friend, is our famous “Let-us-bolt!”

Demosthenes

But none can escape the Paphlagonian, his eye is everywhere. And what a stride! He has one leg on Pylos and the other in the Assembly; his arse gapes exactly over the land of the Chaonians, his hands are with the Aetolians and his mind with the Clopidians.

Nicias

It’s best then to die; but let us seek the most heroic death.

Demosthenes

Let me think, what is the most heroic?

Nicias

Let us drink the blood of a bull; that’s the death Themistocles chose.

Demosthenes

No, not that, but a bumper of good unmixed wine in honour of the Good Genius; perchance we may stumble on a happy thought.

Nicias

Look at him! “Unmixed wine!” Your mind is on drink intent? Can a man strike out a brilliant thought when drunk?

Demosthenes

Without question. Go, ninny, blow yourself out with water; do you dare to accuse wine of clouding the reason? Quote me more marvellous effects than those of wine. Look! when a man drinks, he is rich, everything he touches succeeds, he gains lawsuits, is happy and helps his friends. Come, bring hither quick a flagon of wine, that I may soak my brain and get an ingenious idea.

Nicias

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