and never will be.
What you’re going on about so pat
is beggary,
A life not owing anything,
whereas poverty
Means owing something if only a little
and being thrifty,
And working hard and scraping by,
but not at all
Lacking what is really necessary
CHREMYLUS: You make it all sound so nice,
you do, by deuce:
The scrimping and slaving away
till the final
Having nothing salted away
for the funeral.
POVERTY: You’re not serious and you think you’re funny
but you won’t admit
That I raise better men than Wealth
with all his money.
In mind and body they’re much more fit
but with him,
They’re gouty, have swollen limbs
and bloated tummies.
They’re also obscenely fat,
but with me
They’re slim, wasp-waisted, and defeat
the enemy.
CHREMYLUS: They get that wasp waist by starvation,
I would bet.
POVERTY: Let’s take morals then,
and I’ll give a demonstration
That with me good conduct lies,
with Wealth, conceit.
CHREMYLUS: Good conduct, I suppose, implies
violence and theft.
BLEPSIDEMUS: And the modesty to keep out of sight
while they abuse.965
POVERTY:966 Just look at our politicians in every town:
when they are poor they behave properly,
but after they’ve fleeced the treasury and waxed wealthy
they change their tune,
undermining democracy and turning against the people.
CHREMYLUS: Well, you’re right there and I won’t quibble,
though you’re still a nasty old crone
and mustn’t expect to get off lightly
after trying to make out that poverty
is superior to wealth.
POVERTY: But you’ve still given me no proof
that I am wrong. All you’ve done
is wave your arms about and froth at the mouth.
CHREMYLUS: All right, but how come everyone avoids you?
POVERTY: Because I discipline them,
and they react the same way that children do
when their fathers try to better them.
Oh it’s difficult to know what’s best to do.
CHREMYLUS: No doubt you’ll now say that not even Zeus
knows what’s best to do,
and he’s endowed with wealth, too.
BLEPSIDEMUS: And lets this old hag loose on us!
POVERTY: What blinkered ancient crocks you are—both of you!
Actually Zeus is poor, which I can prove.
Why is it if he were wealthy
that when he gets everybody together
every fourth year for the games at Olympia
and he celebrates the triumphant athletes with crowns of wild olive,
why isn’t it with crowns of gold?
CHREMYLUS: That only shows that Zeus is thrifty and not naive. He has a great respect for wealth and doesn’t waste it: he decorates the winners with trash and keeps the cash.
POVERTY: What you’re really saying is that Zeus is something
worse
than poor—if he’s really loaded
but behaves like the greediest thing alive.
CHREMYLUS: I hope that Zeus exterminates you after crowning you
with wild olive.
POVERTY: You’ve got a nerve,
going on implying that poverty’s not the origin
of our every blessing.
CHREMYLUS: That’s something that only Hecate can answer:967
whether it’s better to be rich or poor.
One thing she’s bound to tell you
is that the rich put down a monthly meal for her,
which the poor grab even before it hits the floor.
Now go to hell,
Stop whining and be off.
No matter what you say
I’ll never see it your way.
POVERTY: City of Argos, are you there?968
CHREMYLUS: Call Pauson your messmate here.969
POVERTY: This is more than I can bear.
CHREMYLUS: Get lost and do it fast.
POVERTY: I am going, but going where?
CHREMYLUS: To the stocks. Go at last.
POVERTY: All right, but I want you to know: One day you’ll call me back—both of you.
[POVERTY exits, as CHREMYLUS shouts after her.]
CHREMYLUS: Fine! We can wait till then.
Meanwhile, go to the dogs.
You can talk your head off, bitch,
But I’d rather be rich.
BLEPSIDEMUS: My God, you’re right! And as for me, I’m going to luxuriate Among my wife and kids and take A bath, and I’ll step out of it All glisteningly And fart in the face Of Poverty.
CHREMYLUS: And now that we’ve got that hag to scram Let’s go as quick as we can, The two of us, and lead the god To Aesclepius’ holy shrine And there lay him down in bed.
BLEPSIDEMUS: Yes, so we mustn’t tarry Lest someone else arrives And spoils our plans and makes us sorry.
CHREMYLUS: [calling into the house]
Cario, my lad, bring out the bedding
And bring out Plutus, the man himself,
As is only fitting.
Yes, bring everything.
[CARIO and the other household SERVANTS bustle about with bedding and baggage, then lead out PLUTUS for the trip to the sanctuary of Aesclepius. All leave the stage and the CHORUS performs an interlude with dance and music, at the end of which CARIO enters. It is the morning of the next day.]
CARIO: [beaming] Hey, you oldsters, who at many a feast
for Theseus have slurped up bowls of soup
with crumbled bread, you are most fortunate—yes, truly blessed,
like everyone who shares your fellowship.
LEADER: You best of all your fellow slaves, what’s up? You look as though you come with happy news.
CARIO: My master’s had a masterstroke of luck,
or rather, Plutus has—oh yes,
no longer blind, with shining eyes he sees,
thanks to his healing by Aesclepius.
LEADER: This calls for cheers, this happy news.
CARIO: Cheer away, then, willy-nilly.
LEADER: [breaking into song] Blessed Aesclepius, let me raise For you and your children a shout of praise, You shining light for humanity.
[The WIFE of CHREMYLUS comes hurrying out of the house.]
WIFE: What’s all the shouting about? Has somebody brought
exciting news: something that I’ve yearned to hear,
someone I’ve sat waiting for?
CARIO: Quick, quick, bring out the wine, dear madam. You’ve got a good excuse because I’m going to smother you with blessings.
WIFE: Where are they, then?
CARIO: You’ll hear them from me in a moment.
WIFE: Very well, get on with it.
CARIO: Are you ready? I’ll break the whole damn
news to you from head to foot.
WIFE: Just the news, please. Keep it off my head.
CARIO: Even good news?
WIFE: Yes, stick to the facts.
CARIO: All right . . . As soon as we had reached the shrine
with the wretched wreck that’s
now so glorious and happy,
the first thing we did
was take him to the sea and wash him.
WIFE: [with withering sarcasm] What a lovely idea, dipping an old man in the freezing sea!
CARIO: Then we went inside the god’s holy home
and after we’d burned the offerings of cakes and barley
(exc
ellent fuel for Hephaestus’ flame),970
we tucked him up nicely in his bed
and lay down ourselves on our mattresses.
WIFE: Were there any other patients at the shrine?
CARIO: There was a certain Neocleides,971
quite blind but with a sharper eye for theft than anyone with
sight.
There were many others, too, all with different diseases.
Then the temple warden put out the lights
and told us to go to sleep and not to speak
even if we heard noises.
So we lay down dutifully but I couldn’t sleep
because a pot of stew near some old lady’s head
was driving me frantic
and the urge I had to crawl towards it was quite demonic,
but looking up I saw the temple steward
helping himself to cakes and figs from the sacrificial table
and then making the rounds of all the tables
to see what titbits still remained:
which he duly dedicated to his sack.
I couldn’t help admiring his sense of dedication,
so I got up and made that pot of stew my destination.
WIFE: You scalawag, had you no fear of the god?
CARIO: Of course I had. I was terrified
he’d beat me to the pot—
all garlanded and that.
The priest had shown me what I could expect.
When the old lady became alert
to the noise I was making, she thrust her hand into the pot,
and I hissed and bit it like a snake.
She pulled out her hand at once
and collapsed into total silence,
swaddled in her blanket and farting away with funk,
and stinking like a damned skunk.
That’s when I fell upon the stew,
and stuffed myself to the gills
until I was almost ready to spew.
WIFE: But didn’t the god Aesclepius approach you?
CARIO: No, he was about to
when a funny thing happened. He was all set,
when my overloaded stomach let out a snort.
WIFE: It must have filled him with disgust.
CARIO: No, but Iaso, who was behind him, blushed
and Panacaea held her nose and turned away.972
I don’t fart incense, you know!
WIFE: Did the god, too?
CARIO: He took no notice whatever.
WIFE: Are you stating the god’s a clod?
CARIO: Not at all, only an excreta eater.
WIFE: You’re such a card!
CARIO: After that I quickly went undercover,
while the god methodically went his rounds,
inspecting every case.
His assistant then produced a stone mortar,
a pestle, and a box.
WIFE: Of stone?
CARIO: No, that was the mortar.
WIFE: But you’d put yourself undercover, you liar,
so how did you see all this?
CARIO: Through the chinks, of course,
all those holes in my gown. . . . So first he pounds
a plaster for Neocleides
consisting of three cloves of Tenian garlic,973
a dash of fig juice, and mastic spurge all mashed up in the mortar
and soused in Sphettian vinegar.974
This he smears on the man’s eyelids, turning them back
to make them smart the more.
Neocleides sprang up yelling
and tried to bolt, but Aesclepius just laughed and said:
“You’re nicely plastered up. Stay where you are.
This will stop you making
a nuisance of yourself with your briefs in the Assembly.”
WIFE: How patriotic and how knowing!
CARIO: Then he sat down next to Plutus and felt his head
and wiped his eyelids with a strip of clean linen
while Panacaea covered his face and head with a crimson
napkin.
Next, the god gave a whistle
and two snakes slipped out of the temple.
They were enormous.
WIFE: Good heavens!
CARIO: They slid silently underneath the napkin
and as far as I could tell began to lick around the eyes.
Then, madam, before you could down a quart of wine,
good old Plutus stood up seeing.
I clapped my hands in delirious applause
and aroused my master as the god was disappearing
into the shrine, and the serpents, too.
Imagine the joy of those who were reposing
next to Plutus, all those who
stayed up the rest of the night, embracing him and rejoicing
till the new day’s light.
My admiration of the god knew no end,
both for giving Plutus back his sight
and making Neocleides more blind.
WIFE: What a show of power, O great Aesclepius, lord! But now pray tell me, where is Plutus?
CARIO: He’s coming, surrounded by a huge crowd:
people who’ve lived good but stinted lives,
all dying to welcome him and shake his hand.
There are also others, the rich and well endowed
who became so by dishonest ways.
These were scowling and wrinkling their brows.
But the former were chasing along behind,
laughing and shouting out their gratitude
while old men drummed their shoes.
[turning to the CHORUS]
So come along all of you: skip, strut, and dance in parade.
Never again will you come home and find
there’s not a grain to eat in your domain.
WIFE: Hurrah, holy Hecate! Bravo, bringer of such good news, I swear I could garland you with cakes!
CARIO: Don’t hesitate. The crowds are almost on our threshold.
WIFE: Good, I’ll go and get the birthday cookies
to celebrate the born-again eyes.
CARIO: And I’ll go to welcome the arriving crowd.
[The WIFE goes into the house as CARIO takes up his position outside one of the gates. Meanwhile the CHORUS performs an interlude of dance and music, at the end of which PLUTUS enters. He looks like he has shed about twenty years and there is a spring in his step.]
PLUTUS: First of all let me bow to the Sun,
then Athena’s glorious earth of Athens
and the whole of Attica.
And now let me make it plain
how embarrassed I am by the way I used to batten
on the well-to-do, though I was unaware,
and how I kept aloof from those who merited my company.
It’s sad that I should have made
so glaring a mistake in both these matters.
But now I intend to undo it
and demonstrate to all that I never meant
to give myself to such evildoers.
[CHREMYLUS and CARIO appear: CHREMYLUS breathless and trying to get away from the crowds pursuing PLUTUS, and CARIO from the house.]
CHREMYLUS: Damn the lot of you! What an ordeal fair-weather friends can be!
They appear from nowhere if you’re doing well,
barging into you, bruising your shins, all
trying to show they’re your bosom crony.
There’s not one who hasn’t accosted me,
nor any of those old men in the market square
who hasn’t tried to garland me.
[WIFE comes out of the house with a tray of goodies.]
WIFE: You darling men, both of you, here you are! Now, Plutus, let me do what they always used to do and hold you under a shower of candy.
PLUTUS: Please, I’d rather not. This is the first house I’ve entered with my born-again sight, so it’s not for you to bring anything out, but for me to put something in.
WIFE: But wouldn’
t you like a cake?
PLUTUS: Yes, but not here—inside at the hearth. Let’s tread the traditional path. That way we don’t have to face all the silly slapstick that goes on, with the producer chucking figs and things at the audience to get a laugh.
WIFE: Hear, hear! . . . Look, Demetrius975 has jumped up to scramble for figs.
[All of them leave and the CHORUS performs another inter-act, after which CARIO enters from the house.]
CARIO: How sweet it is, dear fellows, to lead a blessed life,
especially when it costs us nothing!
An avalanche of good things
has fallen on this house even though we haven’t committed sins.
Oh, there’s nothing like a life of wealth!
Good white barley fills our bins.
Our casks are flush with dusky fragrant wines.
Our purses bulge with gold and silver past belief.
Our vats are full of olive oil, our jars with scent,
the loft with figs. Our plates and dishes,
pots and pans, now are brass or copper,
and those dreadful fish platters are gleaming silver,
and even our lamp all of a sudden went
ivory. And we servants play odds-or-even
with gold staters for our pitchers.
And instead of stones to wipe our bottoms with,976 now we are
given cloves of garlic every time.
At the moment our boss is in there garlanded and busy
sacrificing pig and goat and ram,
but the smoke is terrible in there and has made me scram.
It stung my eyes and made me feel quite dizzy.
[There enters an HONEST MAN with a BOY carrying a shabby cloak and an old pair of shoes.]
HONEST MAN: Come on, lad, we’ll go and see the god.
CARIO: Hi there. Who are you, I wonder?
HONEST MAN: One whose life was crappy and now is happy.
CARIO: I can see that you’re a gentleman.
HONEST MAN: Of course!
CARIO: And what is your pleasure?
HONEST MAN: I’ve come to thank the god because he’s the cause
of my good fortune.
You see, I was once flush,
with a handsome legacy from my father,
and I decided to help my indigent friends,
considering that the decent thing to do, and . . .