CLEON. Why, poor fool, he does not believe you, whereas I play with him at will. SAUSAGE-SELLER. So that Demos is your property, your contemptible creature. CLEON. 'Tis because I know the dishes that please him. SAUSAGE-SELLER. And these are little mouthfuls, which you serve to him like a clever nurse. You chew the pieces and place some in small quantities in his mouth, while you swallow three parts yourself. CLEON. Thanks to my skill, I know exactly how to enlarge or contract this gullet. SAUSAGE-SELLER. I can do as much with my rump. CLEON. Hah! my friend, you tricked me at the Senate, but have a care! Let us go before Demos. SAUSAGE-SELLER. That's easily done; come, let's along without delay. CLEON. Oh, Demos! Come, I adjure you to help me, my father! SAUSAGE-SELLER. Come, oh, my dear little Demos; come and see how I am insulted. DEMOS. What a hubbub! To the Devil with you, bawlers! alas! my olive branch, which they have torn down![84] Ah! 'tis you, Paphlagonian. And who, pray, has been maltreating you? CLEON. You are the cause of this man and these young people having covered me with blows. DEMOS. And why? CLEON Because you love me passionately, Demos. DEMOS. And you, who are you? SAUSAGE-SELLER. His rival. For many a long year have I loved you, have I wished to do you honour, I and a crowd of other men of means. But this rascal here has prevented us. You resemble those young men who do not know where to choose their lovers; you repulse honest folk; to earn your favours, one has to be a lamp-seller, a cobbler, a tanner or a currier. CLEON. I am the benefactor of the people. SAUSAGE-SELLER. In what way, an it please you? CLEON. In what way? I supplanted the Generals at Pylos, I hurried thither and I brought back the Laconian captives. SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I, whilst simply loitering, cleared off with a pot from a shop, which another fellow had been boiling. CLEON. Demos, convene the assembly at once to decide which of us two loves you best and most merits your favour. SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, yes, provided it be not at the Pnyx. DEMOS. I could not sit elsewhere; 'tis at the Pnyx, that you must appear before me. SAUSAGE-SELLER. Ah! great gods! I am undone! At home this old fellow is the most sensible of men, but the instant he is seated on those cursed stone seats,[85] he is there with mouth agape as if he were hanging up figs by their stems to dry. CHORUS. Come, loose all sail. Be bold, skilful in attack and entangle him in arguments which admit of no reply. It is difficult to beat him, for he is full of craft and pulls himself out of the worst corners. Collect all your forces to come forth from this fight covered with glory, but take care! Let him not assume the attack, get ready your grapples and advance with your vessel to board him!