SCENE—The Pnyx
Dicæopolis. How many things there are to cross and vex me,
My comforts I compute at four precisely,
My griefs and miseries at a hundred thousand.
Let's see what there has happened to rejoice me
With any real kind of joyfulness;
Come, in the first place I set down five talents,
Which Cleon vomited up again and refunded;
There I rejoiced; I loved the Knights for that;
'Twas nobly done, for the interests of all Greece.
But again I suffered cruelly in the Theatre10
A tragical disappointment. There was I
Gaping to hear old Æschylus, when the Herald
Called out, "Theognis,[1] bring your chorus forward."
Imagine what my feelings must have been!
But then Dexitheus pleased me coming forward
And singing his Bœotian melody:
But next came Chæris with his music truly,
That turned me sick, and killed me very nearly.
But never in my lifetime, man nor boy,
Was I so vexed as at this present moment;20
To see the Pnyx, at this time of the morning,
Quite empty, when the Assembly should be full.
There are our Citizens in the market-place,
Lounging and talking, shifting up and down
To escape the painted twine that ought to sweep
The shoal of them this way; not even the presidents
Arrived—they're always last, crowding and jostling
To get the foremost seat; but as for peace
They never think about it—Oh, poor Country!
As for myself, I'm always the first man.30
Alone in the morning, here I take my place,
- ↑ A bad tragic poet, ridiculed in this play.
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