where he was spewing

  a volcano of yells,

  ranting away as he attacked the Knights

  with an avalanche of blitz,

  calling them traitors, which he then tried to prove.

  As to the Assembly members

  as he continued to rave,

  weeds began to grow out of their ears,

  and mustard out of their eyes,

  and their foreheads were furrowed with wonder.

  I began to realize

  that they were actually falling for his lies

  and being bamboozled by his ballyhoo.

  So I shouted out: “Come, you

  fiends of mouthwash and of sham,

  of manipulation and of rank malpractice, come,

  O come to my rescue!

  And you, my dear Marketplace,

  where I was nurtured since very young:

  inspire me with effrontery, a barefaced voice,

  and a vicious tongue.”

  As I was musing on this petition,

  some blighter on my lucky side, my right,

  confirmed it with a fart . . . in recognition.

  I bowed in acknowledgment

  and backed into the swing gate with my bum and bent

  it off its hinges; at the same time

  opening my jaws wide and bawling:

  “Hey, Senators, I’m

  the first with tremendous news:

  never since the war began have sardines

  been so cheap.” Whereat, their faces glowed with happiness

  and they voted to reward me with a crown.

  I, in return,

  told them of a ruse

  which they must keep to themselves as a senatorial tip,

  that because sardines were now so cheap,

  they must commandeer every dish and jar in the potters’ yards.139

  But that stinker Paphlagon was there and heard my words

  and knew exactly how to butter up the Senators

  and he declared, just for starters:

  “Gentlemen, to celebrate this welcome news,

  I think that we should offer up a hundred bulls to please

  our Lady Pallas.”

  At which the Assembly switched from me to him.

  So when I realized I was being outbid in cow pats,

  I raised my bid to two hundred bulls,

  suggesting at the same time

  that if tomorrow’s sardines or sprats

  should sell at a hundred for ten cents,

  they should sacrifice a thousand goats

  to Artemis—huntress of the glens.

  Whereat, the Assembly switched from him to me,

  while he—Paphlagon—was utterly nonplussed, to say the least,

  and began to gibber till the officials and the police

  bundled him away

  as the Senators sprang to their feet

  yelling about sardines.

  He pleaded with them: “Wait until you hear

  what the Spartan envoy has to say:

  he’s come to talk about a truce.”

  That raised a universal wail.

  “A truce indeed!” they began to jeer.

  “Just because they’ve heard how cheap sardines are here.

  To hell with a truce!”

  “We will continue with the war,” they railed,

  “and take the field.”

  They clamored for the meeting to adjourn

  and leapt over the courtbars right and left.

  I made a beeline for the marketplace

  and bought up all the coriander and the leeks,

  which I dealt out to the Senators as largesse

  and a fitting dressing to adorn

  those sardines. . . . They all went overboard with thanks,

  cheering lustily. And I’ve come back

  with the whole Assembly eating out of my hands—

  all for ten cents of coriander.

  CHORUS: How completely you’re a commander!

  How you show a winning streak!

  How that twister’s met his match!

  One who outdoes him as a rogue

  In every kind of slimy touch

  And a wicked wily tongue.

  But the fight’s not over yet,

  So take care of what’s to come.

  We are your friends—up to the hilt.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Here comes Paphlagon bobbing along

  on a groundswell of rage, thrashing and plunging,

  and obviously meaning to push me under.

  [PAPHLAGON storms in.]

  PAPHLAGON: If I’m not still the greatest rotter

  and can’t blot you out, let me go bust.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Hear, hear to that! But I have to laugh

  at your silly cock-a-doodle boast.

  PAPHLAGON: I swear by Demeter I’ll quit this life

  if I don’t swallow you whole out of the earth.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Ditto for me if I don’t devour you,

  though the swallowing will make me spew.

  PAPHLAGON: By the front row seat I collected with

  my Pylos job, I’ll wipe you out.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Front row seat? My, my! That’ll be great!

  How amusing it’ll be to see you—right at the back!

  PAPHLAGON: I’ll clap you in the stocks, by heaven!

  SAUSAGEMAN: Nasty! Nasty! Need a little something to peck?

  What’s your favorite dish—purse strings al dente?

  PAPHLAGON: With my bare nails, your innards shall be riven.

  SAUSAGEMAN: And I’ll have the Town Hall stop your free dinner

  bounty.

  PAPHLAGON: I’ll drag you before the People and get justice done.

  SAUSAGEMAN: I’ll drag you, too, and I’m a better liar.

  PAPHLAGON: The People, you airhead, ignore everything you say,

  whereas I have them wrapped around my little finger.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Round your little finger? There’s no doubt of that.

  PAPHLAGON: Yes, I know exactly the mush to feed them on.

  SAUSAGEMAN: I know. It’s right up your track.

  Like a nanny, you chew their fodder to make it soft,

  give them a scrap, then tuck in to the rest—

  which is three times the amount.

  PAPHLAGON: That, by God, is not everything I meant.

  I can make people open up or close. It’s a knack.

  SAUSAGEMAN: That’s nothing. I can do the same with my arse.

  PAPHLAGON: Well, fellow, I’m not going to let you get away

  with taking a crack at me in the Assembly.

  We’ll go to the People. We’ll go to Demos.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Sure. There’s nothing stopping us.

  Let’s be off without delay.

  PAPHLAGON: [knocking on DEMOS’ door] Come on out, Demos.

  [no reply]

  SAUSAGEMAN: Father Demos, oh do come out.

  PAPHLAGON: Sweet, dearest Demotikins, come out, please.

  DEMOS: [from within]: What’s all this din about?

  Get away from my door.

  You’re wrecking my harvest wreath.140

  Paphlagon, what’s bugging you?

  PAPHLAGON: These young hooligans are beating me up,

  and all because of you.

  DEMOS: [emerging] What?

  PAPHLAGON: Because I’m fond of you, dear Demos: I’m your

  lover.

  DEMOS: [to SAUSAGEMAN] And who are you?

  SAUSAGEMAN: His rival for your love, I hope.

  I’ve yearned so long for you and for your welfare,

  as have so many folk,

  but we’re blocked because of this man here.

  And you are like those amorous boy toys

  who reject offers from honest gentlemen

  and fling themselves upon

  lamp sellers, cobblers, tanners141—

  and suchlike with their trashy wares.

  PAPHLAGON: While I serve Dem
os in a proper manner.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Do you really? I long to hear.

  PAPHLAGON: Do you? Well,

  I was the one and not the generals

  who brought off that coup at Pylos:

  sailed to the spot and came back with the Spartans.

  SAUSAGEMAN: And me? I, like you, am one of the smart ’uns,

  mooning around somewhat clueless,

  then sneaking into a bistro and pinching someone else’s stew.

  PAPHLAGON: Well, as the matter stands, Demos, sir,

  I suggest you summon the Assembly right away

  and find out which of us really loves you,

  then lavish on him all your care.

  SAUSAGEMAN: All right, Demos,

  go ahead and decide between us,

  but not in the Assembly on the Pnyx.

  DEMOS: I refuse to sit anywhere else,

  so it’s at the Pnyx we meet.

  [All move into the orchestra pit, where DEMOS seats himself upon a rock.]

  SAUSAGEMAN: Shucks! I’m done for, I bet.

  At home the old geezer is quite intelligent

  but once he sits on rocks

  he might as well be chewing a fig.

  CHORUS: This is the time to let out your sail

  and carry your argument

  With unimpeachable verve and force,

  so to topple him down;

  For your antagonist’s a crafty dog,

  a wizard at reverse

  And making doable what can’t be done.

  Then fall upon your man

  With the force of a gale.

  LEADER: Keep your eyes tight open and, well before he’s upon you, fling out a grapple and draw alongside his vessel.

  PAPHLAGON: To you, Lady Athena, sovereign of my town, I utter this prayer: If it be true that I have been the greatest benefactor of the State (apart from Lysicles, Salabaccio and Cynna),142 may I go on having my Town Hall dinners as a reward for doing nothing? But if I am no longer in your good graces anymore and fighting your battles, then murder me, cut me in two, and slice me up for saddles.

  SAUSAGEMAN: And, Demos, as for me,

  if I don’t love and cosset you,

  chop me up for hamburgers, or put me in a stew,

  and if you can’t believe me,

  grate me into Parmesan on this very counter,

  or yank me away by the balls with a flesh hook

  to the Potters’ Quarter.

  PAPHLAGON: And, Demos, how could there possibly be

  anyone who cares for you as much as I do?

  When I was a Senator

  I boosted the accounts and cooked the books for you

  by stretching men and squeezing them

  or pressing them to cough up

  regardless of what it did to them

  and only what it did for you.

  SAUSAGEMAN: That’s nothing I can’t cap

  or do any less to please you:

  I’ll steal the bread that others bake

  and serve it to you as my own.

  But my primary boon to you is to make you understand

  that he’s no friend of yours or your supporter.

  It’s your fire, your hearth, he’s after.

  At Marathon you smashed the Medes to defend our land,

  leaving a legacy of superlatives for orators in the future.

  This man’s not concerned that you’re sitting on hard stone,

  whereas I bring you this—a cushion:

  made by me just for you.

  Get up for a moment. . . . Now sit down. . . .

  There, isn’t that better?

  It’s right to pamper the bottom which sat

  plying the oar at the Battle of Salamis.143

  DEMOS: Who are you, man?

  Surely not a descendant of the famous Harmodius clan?144

  Anyway, what you’ve just done

  is a really Demosly motivated service.

  PAPHLAGON: Pooh! What a little fawning it takes to turn

  you into a Demos fan!

  SAUSAGEMAN: Nothing to compare with the puny bait

  that you used for hooking him.

  PAPHLAGON: No one, before me, I dare assert,

  has championed Demos and cared for him

  the way I have. And I’ll stake my head on it.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Balls! . . . How can you claim to love him

  when for the last eight years you’ve watched him without pity

  living in shanties and cubbyholes,

  miserably cooped up in the city,

  while you’ve done your best to shut him in

  so’s you can get at what’s within?

  And when Neoptolemus145 came with peace proposals,

  you tore them up; and the envoys suing for a truce

  you drove from the city with a kick in the pants.

  PAPHLAGON: Naturally, I did

  because one day, according to the oracle,

  Demos is destined to advance

  and rule over all of Greece.

  He’ll be hearing cases in Arcadia146 at five obols a day,

  that is, if he can stick the course.

  And anyhow, I’ll be nurturing him and providing for his

  board

  and making sure by hook or crook that he gets his pay.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Bullshit! You don’t give a damn

  about his being all cock-of-the-hoop in Arcadia

  but only about blackmail and bribery

  of the allied States and how you can

  so outwit and befog poor old Demos with talk of war

  that he’s quite blind to your scenes of crime.

  He’ll be tugging at your apron strings in desperation

  just to get his pay for jury

  and enough to live on.

  But if Demos ever gets back to his peaceful farm

  and becomes his real self again,

  spooning porridge into his mouth and eating pressed olives,

  he’ll realize how you cheated him and how it sucks

  that you put him on the dole, and

  he’ll turn on you in rustic fury

  and wallop you at the ballot box.

  This possibility of how he behaves

  is on your mind, so you go on bamboozling him

  with your dreams of glory.

  PAPHLAGON: I think it’s disgusting the way you’re demeaning

  and slandering me before Demos and the Athenian people

  after all I’ve done for them: very much more, by Demeter,

  than Themistocles ever did for the city.147

  SAUSAGEMAN: “City of Argos, just listen to what he’s saying.”148

  [to PAPHLAGON]

  So you dare compare yourself to Themistocles

  who found our city’s cup half full and left it overflowing.

  The Piraeus was a cake he baked for her luncheon pudding,

  and he brightened her menu with new titbits from the sea,

  while keeping those she had already.

  Whereas, all you’ve tried to achieve

  is turn the Athenians into little suburban nothings,

  humming pop songs while they sit by their Ouija boards.

  On a par with Themistocles? I don’t think so.

  And now he’s banished and you—you

  are wiping your fingers on the crumbs of “Achilles’ Buns.”149

  PAPHLAGON: Demos, don’t you find it shocking,

  the things he says against me just because I care for you?

  DEMOS: Stuff it! Paphlagon, stuff it!

  We want no more of your slimy muckraking.

  You’ve been fooling us for long enough.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Demos, sweetie pie, he’s a fucking crook—

  a first-class twister.

  While you are gazing into outer space

  he’s snapping off the succulent stalks

  of retirement benefits and wolfing them;

  then with palms wide-open he scoops up the juice
br />   of people’s savings.

  PAPHLAGON: Never fear! I won’t fail to nail you for

  the thousands you’ve been nicking.

  SAUSAGEMAN: My, my! What a big splash you’re making

  for someone who’s ill treated the Athenian people

  so abominably! . . . I swear by Demeter

  I’ll show up your whole affair

  at Mytilene and the thousands you managed to wangle.150

  CHORUS: You miraculous and manifest helper of mankind,

  How I admire the glibness of your tongue!

  Never let it slacken and you will be among

  The greatest men of Greece with total sway

  Over the city and our allies. In your hand

  A trident well designed

  To shake and make them tremble

  And make for you a bundle.

  LEADER: So don’t let the fellow get away

  now that you’ve got him in a hold. . . .

  With a manly chest like yours,

  you’ll floor him with ease.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Hang on a minute. . . . I’ve just thought of something.

  If you really cared a tinker’s cuss for the People,

  you’d not have left those shields hanging by the handle.

  Don’t you see, Demos, it’s a trick

  to forestall any retribution you may be wanting

  to deal out to this bloke.

  A gang of young and husky tanners screen him

  in a medley of fellows selling honey, selling cheeses.

  They’re a self-supporting clique,

  and the moment you start looking glum

  and fingering the ostra shards,151

  they’ll take those shields down by night

  and it’s on the cards they’ll pounce on our granary yards

  like greased lightning.

  DEMOS: So the shields have every handle at the ready!

  You cheating bastard, Paphlagon, how long

  have you been blinding me

  to the way you’ve been cheating the People?

  PAPHLAGON: My good sir,

  don’t believe everything you hear,

  and don’t imagine that you’ll ever find a better friend.

  It was I, all by myself, who put paid

  to a cabal of plotters. Oh yes, there’s no conspiracy

  I don’t know about and quash immediately.

  SAUSAGEMAN: Indeed you do!

  You’re like those fellows eel fishing:

  when the water’s clear and still

  they don’t catch a thing,

  but when they stir it up they get an eel.

  That’s the way you get an eel when you stir the city up.

  But there’s one thing I’d like to know: