Racine: Phaedra

i62
ARISTOPHANES
The saviour of the State, and us, the friends that thou
beholdest
No words can speak our gratitude; all praise appears
too little.
You've fairly done the rascal up, you've nicked him to
a tittle.
Cleon.—By the holy goddess, it's not new to me
This scheme of yours. I've known the job long since.
The measurement and the scantling of it all,
And where it was shaped out and tacked together.
Chorus.—Aye ! There it is ! You
must exert yourself
Come, try to match him again with a carpenter's phrase.
Sausage-Seller.—Does he think I have not tracked him in
his intrigues
At Argos ?—his pretence to make a treaty
With the people there ?—^and all his private parley
With the Spartans?—There he works and blows the
coals
And has plenty of other irons in the fire.
Chorus.—Well done, the blacksmith beats the carpenter.
Sausage-Seller [in continuation].—And the envoys that
come here, are all in a tale
All beating time to the same tune. I tell ye.
It's neither gold nor silver, nor the promises,
Nor the messages you send me by your friends,
That will ever serve your turn ; or hinder me
From bringing all these facts before the public.
Cleon.—Then I'll set ofif this instant to the Senate
To inform them of your conspiracies and treasons,
Your secret nightly assembhes and cabals,
Your private treaty with the king of Persia,
Your correspondence with Boeotia,
And the business that you keep there in the cheese-press,
Close packed you think, and ripening out of sight.
Sausage-Seller.—Ah ! cheese ? Is cheese any cheaper there,
d'ye hear?
Cleon.—By Hercules! I'll have ye crucified!
[Exit Cleon.
Chorus [to the Sausage-Seller] —Well, how do you feel your
heart and spirits now?