may do business here, as long as they sell

their goods to me and not to Lamachus.

To serve as market clerks I now appoint

these three thick leather straps from Lepreum

selected by a lottery. No informers

or men of Phasis may do business here.

The pillar on which the treaty is inscribed

I will have brought here. I shall erect it

in the market place in full public view.

Greetings to this Athenian market,

which all Megarians love! By lord Zeus,

god of friendship, I have yearned for you

as I yearn for my own mother.

Come children,

poor daughters of an unkucky father,

scramble up there and get us food to eat,

if you can find any. Listen to me:

I want you to think about your bellies.

Which of these choices do you two prefer—

to be sold or to be sick from hunger?

To be sold, to be sold!

That’s my view, as well.

But who would be fool enough to buy you—

on the face of it a poor investment.

But I do have a Megarian trick.

I’ll disguise you both as little piglets

and say I’m bringing you to market.

[The Megarian gets false pig feet out of a bag he is carrying.}

Put these pigs feet over your hands. Pretend

you're from the li tter of a well-bred sow.

I tell you, by Hermes, if I am compelled

to take you home unsold, you will suffer

from savage hunger. So put on these snouts

and stuff yourselves inside this sack. Remember

to grunt and to make little piggy sounds—

like sacrificial piglets at the Mysteries.

I’ll announce that you’re for sale. But hang on!

Where’s Dicaeopolis?

Hey, Dicaeopolis!

Do you want to buy some little piglets?

What’s this? A man from Megara?

I have come to trade in the marketplace.

How are things in Megara?

We sit by our fires

and starve.

By Zeus, to sit by a fire

is pleasant with a flute player present.

But what else is happening nowadays

in Megara?

Things are what they are.

When I was leaving to come to market,

the city council were trying to find

a way of killing us off as quickly

and brutally as possible.

If that’s the case,

you’ll soon be rid of all your troubles.

That’s true.

What else is new in Megara?

How’s the price of grain?

We value it

as highly as we do the gods themselves.

Are you bringing salt?

Don’t you Athenians

I have come to trade in the marketplace.

How are things in Megara?

We sit by our fires

and starve.

By Zeus, to sit by a fire

is pleasant with a flute player present.

But what else is happening nowadays

in Megara?

Things are what they are.

When I was leaving to come to market,

the city council were trying to find

a way of killing us off as quickly

and brutally as possible.

If that’s the case,

you’ll soon be rid of all your troubles.

That’s true.

What else is new in Megara?

How’s the price of grain?

We value it

as highly as we do the gods themselves.

Are you bringing salt?

Don’t you Athenians

supplies of salt?

What about garlic?

What do you mean garlic? You Athenians,

when you attack us, you’re just like field mice.

You use your weapons to dig up the ground

and then root out every clove of garlic.

What do you bring, then?

I’m bringing sows

like those they offer at the mysteries.

Good! Show them to me.

They’re real beauties.

Look at them--so fat and healthy.

What is this?

It’s clearly a sow.

A pig?

Where does this “pig” come from?

From Megara.

Is this not a pig?

No, I don’t think so.

Well, isn’t this strange? You have to wonder

supplies of salt?

What about garlic?

What do you mean garlic? You Athenians,

when you attack us, you’re just like field mice.

You use your weapons to dig up the ground

and then root out every clove of garlic.

What do you bring, then?

I’m bringing sows

like those they offer at the mysteries.

Good! Show them to me.

They’re real beauties.

Look at them--so fat and healthy.

What is this?

It’s clearly a sow.

A pig?

Where does this “pig” come from?

From Megara.

Is this not a pig?

No, I don’t think so.

Well, isn’t this strange? You have to wonder

at this man’s incredulity!

All right then,

if you’re willing, I’ll make a bet with you

for a measure of garlic-flavoured salt

that this here in proper Greek is called

a sow and nothing else.

But one that belongs

to the human species.

Yes, naturally,

by Diocles, it belongs to me.

Whose do you think it is? Would you like

to hear them squeal?

Yes, by the gods, I would.

Make a sound, little piggy, and quickly.

You don’t want to make a sound? Are you dumb,

you disgusting, good-for-nothing little sow?

By Hermes, I’m going to take you home.

Wee. wee. wee!

Is that a little sow, or not?

Well, it seems to be a piglet. But in time

it will grow into a fine breeding sow.

You know that in five years it will look

just like its mother.

But this little piggy

is not suitable for sacrifice.

Why not? Why unsuitable?

Because it has no tail.

That’s because it is too young. When it grows

into full piggyhood it will have a tail—

long, thick, and red.

If you want a little pig

for fattening, this one here’s a good one.

This sow looks just like the other one.

They come from the same father and mother.

Let them fatten up and grow their bristles,

and they’ll be the finest sows you could offer

in a sacrifice to goddess Aphrodite.

But we don’t offer sows to Aphrodite,

No sows for Aphrodite! That goddess

is the only one they’re offered up to!

The flesh of these sows will taste its finest

once they have been skewered on a spit.

Are they old enough to suck things on their own?

Do they still need their mother?

Not at all.

For that they no longer need their mother—

or their father.

What are their favourite foods?

They eat whatever is given to them.

Ask them yourself.

Hey, little piggy wiggie.

Wee, wee, wee.

Do you like to eat chick peas?

Wee, wee, wee.

What about early figs?

Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee!

Their squealing is so keen

at the very mention of the word “figs.”

Bring some figs out here for these little pigs!

Will they eat them? Good heavens, what a noise

their munching makes. Almighty Herakles,

what country do these little pigs come from?

They look as if they come from Hungary.

They didn’t gobble down all the figs—

I managed to snatch up one of them.

Do you like to eat chick peas?

Wee, wee, wee.

What about early figs?

Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee!

Their squealing is so keen

at the very mention of the word “figs.”

Bring some figs out here for these little pigs!

Will they eat them? Good heavens, what a noise

their munching makes. Almighty Herakles,

what country do these little pigs come from?

They look as if they come from Hungary.

They didn’t gobble down all the figs—

I managed to snatch up one of them.

Do you like to eat chick peas?

Wee, wee, wee.

What about early figs?

Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee!

Their squealing is so keen

at the very mention of the word “figs.”

Bring some figs out here for these little pigs!

Will they eat them? Good heavens, what a noise

their munching makes. Almighty Herakles,

what country do these little pigs come from?

They look as if they come from Hungary.

They didn’t gobble down all the figs—

I managed to snatch up one of them.

By Zeus, they make a very pretty pair.

How much do you want for both of them?

Tell me.

I will give you one of them

for a rope of garlic, and the other,

if you want her, for a pound of salt.

I’ll buy them both from you. Wait right here.

It’s a deal. O Hermes, god of trading,

grant that I may sell my wife and mother

on the same generous terms as these!

Hey fellow, what country do you come from?

I am a pig merchant from Megara.

All right then, I am denouncing your pigs

as illegal goods--and you, as well.

Here we go again,

the decree that’s caused us all our troubles!

It’s that Megarian dialect of yours—

that’s what you should blame. Let go the sack!

Dicaeopolis!

Dicaeopolis! I am being denounced!!

By whom? Who has been informing on you?

Clerks of the market, get these informers

out of here!

You want to enlighten us

without a source of light?

Am I not allowed

to denounce our enemies?

You should watch out!

Why don’t you piss off out of here right now

and do your informing somewhere else!

What a plague these informers are in Athens!

Not to worry, my Megarian friend.

Here we go again,

the decree that’s caused us all our troubles!

It’s that Megarian dialect of yours—

that’s what you should blame. Let go the sack!

Dicaeopolis!

Dicaeopolis! I am being denounced!!

By whom? Who has been informing on you?

Clerks of the market, get these informers

out of here!

You want to enlighten us

without a source of light?

Am I not allowed

to denounce our enemies?

You should watch out!

Why don’t you piss off out of here right now

and do your informing somewhere else!

What a plague these informers are in Athens!

Not to worry, my Megarian friend.

Here’s payment for your two little piggies—

garlic and salt. Farewell and happy times!

Ah, we don’t have happy times in Megara.

Well then, may that inappropriate wish

apply to me!

My dear little sows,

with your father far away, you must try

to munch your bread with salt, if anyone

will give you some.

Dicaeopolis

is living a truly rich man’s dream. Did you notice how every original scheme works out as he wishes. Seated at his ease, he earns a good money from his market fees. If informers like Ctesias should ever come

they'll shriek from the pain way up the bum.

You will not be cheated in bargaining here

or observe filthy Prepis wiping his rear.

Cleonymus never will bump into you,

as you stroll around in a tunic brand new,

and foolish Hyperbolus you’ll never see,

polluting all justice with his sophistry.

In this market square you won’t have to greet

those unwelcome rascals you see on the street—

that Cratinus fool with his hair razor cut

like a bad husband who's screwing a slut,

or maestro Artemo, a man whose arm pit,

just like his father’s, always stinks of goat shit.

That scoundrel Pauson won’t slander your name, trying to make you feel outrage and shame,

nor that wretch Lysistratus, Cholargos’s curse

in this market show off his corruption and worse.

always hungry and cold, with blasphemous ways,

He mooches each month for a mere thirty days.

BOEOTIAN By Hercules, my shoulder is really sore.