But take care! Before he closes in on you, first hoist your lead weights into position,

then run your ship at him along the side.

I pray to lady Athena, who guards our city, that if I have been the best at serving the Athenian citizens— apart from Lysicles and those two sluts Cynna and Salabaccho—I may dine in the Prytaneum, as I do now, though I have not achieved a thing. But if I hate you, Demos, if I’m not prepared to fight bravely for you all by myself,

may I be destroyed—sawn in two, cut up into leather straps for horses’ halters.

And if I don’t love and value you, Demos, may I be diced up and boiled as mincemeat. If you don’t believe that, may I be grated

on this very table, chopped up with cheese, mashed into a paste, may I be dragged off to Kerameikos by my own meat hook speared through my balls.

Demos, how could there be a citizen who loves you more than me?

First of all, when I was on the Council, in the treasury I produced for you massive sums of money—I had some men tortured, others throttled, and from others I asked for a financial split—and I never worried about private citizens, if I could make you happy.

Hey, Demos, there’s nothing so wonderful about that. I’ll do that for you, as well. I’ll steal bread from other men and serve it up to you.

This man does not love you, and his feelings

for you are not friendly—except for one thing: he enjoys warming himself at your fire. That’s the first thing I’ll demonstrate to you. You who took your swords against the Persians at Marathon to save your native land, and by winning gave us a chance to shout such glorious tributes—you’re sitting down there on those hard rocks, and this man doesn’t care, unlike me, for I bring you this cushion,

which I sewed myself. Now, lift yourself up, and sit down gently so you don’t strain that arse that did so well at Salamis.

Who are you? Are you from that fine family of Harmodius? I must say you’ve done a truly noble act—you’re a real friend of the people!

Such tiny flatteries to win him over!

Well, you got him hooked with lures much tinier than these!

I’m willing to wager my head and state

that no man has ever shown up who loved Demos more than I do or who was better at protecting him.

How could you love him when for eight years you have seen him living in casks, crannies, and turrets, yet show him no pity—instead you keep him locked in and steal his honey? When Archeptolemus brought peace proposals, you ripped them to shreds and drove the embassy bringing terms of peace, whipping their backsides, out of town.

I did that

so Demos might rule over all the Greeks— for the oracles declare that one day he must sit in judgment in Arcadia at five obols a day, if he bides his time. At any rate, I will feed and care for him and use fair and foul means to see to it that he receives three obols every day.

By god, you’re not thinking of how Demos could rule Arcadia—no—but of how you can rob and take bribes from our allies

and of how the fog of war will guarantee Demos doesn’t see the crap you’re up to, so in his distress, need, and lack of cash he’ll keep gawping after you. But if he ever takes off for the countryside and lives in peace there, regaining his fortitude by munching wheat cakes and saying hello to his pressed olives, he will realize how you cheated him of many benefits with the salary you paid. Then he’ll come back

from his farmland an angry man, seeking a voting pebble to use against you. You know all this and keep him in the dark, with deceiving dreams about his future.

Is it not disgraceful that you talk of me

in this manner, falsely accusing me in front of these Athenians and Demos, when I have done more good things by far for Athens than Themistocles ever did.

O city of Argos hearken to the things

of which he speaks!

You dare compare yourself with Themistocles? He found our city partially full and left it overflowing. What’s more, while she was enjoying breakfast he prepared Piraeus for her to eat and served up new varieties of fish without getting rid of all the old ones. But you keep trying to make Athenians small-town citizens by constructing walls that close them in and chanting oracles—

and you compare yourself to Themistocles! He is sent in exile from the city, while you wipe fingers on fine barley cake.

O Demos, is it not shameful to hear

things like this about me from this fellow, all because I love you?

Just shut up, you! Stop this foul abuse. For far too long now you’ve been getting away with duping me.

My dear little Demos, he’s the worst of rogues, who’s carried out all sorts of nasty schemes.

Whenever you are yawning, he taps into the sap of those who audit the accounts and slurps it down—he uses both his hands to scoop up public money.

You’ll pay for that! I’ll convict you of stealing city cash— thirty thousand drachmas!

Why use your oar

just to make a splash? You’ve been committing the most disgraceful things against the people here in Athens. And I will clearly show, by Demeter, that you received a bribe

from Mytilene—more than forty minas. If not, then may I not remain alive.

O you who appear the greatest benefactor for all men, how I envy your persuasive tongue. If you keep on attacking in this way, you’ll be the greatest of the Greeks, and you, all by yourself, will govern in the city, control our allies, and, with a trident in your hand, will shake things up, and by confusing things make piles and piles of money.

Don’t let this man slip away, now he’s let

you get a grip on him. With lungs like yours you’ll have no trouble overpowering him.

Things have not yet gone that far, my good friends, by Poseidon. For what I have achieved is marvellous enough to shut the mouths of my enemies, each and every one, as long as one of those shields from Pylos still remains.

You keep clinging to those shields! You’ve given me something to grab hold of. If you loved the people, then you should not

allow these shields to be hung up on show with their straps attached. It’s a clever scheme, Demos, so that if you wish to punish him,

you won’t be able to. You see how he has a mob of young leather workers with him. Close to them live men who sell our honey and those who deal in cheese. All these men have put their heads together in one group. So if you were upset and looked as if you might play around with broken pottery

and have them ostracized, then late at night they would all run out and take down those shields, then seize the entries to our stores of grain.

That’s terrible. Do they still have their straps? You scoundrel! You’ve been cheating me too long! And short changing people!

But my dear sir, don’t be the slave of the last word spoken.

And don’t think you will ever come across a better friend than me. I am the one who put a stop to the conspirators,

and without my having knowledge of it, no one can start a hostile mutiny. I shout out who they are immediately.

You’re like the fishermen who hunt for eels. In calm waters, they catch nothing at all, but if they stir up mud, they get a catch. So you, too, gain something profitable if you disturb the city. Tell me this— from all those treated hides you have for sale have you ever given this Demos here,

who you say you love, soles for his shoes.

No, by Apollo. He never has.

Well then, do you now see the kind of man he is? I, on the other hand, bought this pair of shoes, and I’m giving them to you to wear.

Of all men I know, you are, in my view, the finest where the people are concerned, the most dedicated to the city— and to my toes.

Isn’t it terrible a pair of shoes could be so important,

and you can’t remember all I’ve done on your behalf? I’m the one who stopped those who screw other men illegally, by taking Gryttus from the voting rolls.

Surely what is terrible is that you inspected arse holes and prevented buggers breaking laws when there’s no doubt you made them stop out of sheer jealousy, fearing they might turn into politicians.

Well then, do you now see the kind of man he is? I, on the other hand, bought this pair of shoes, and I’m giving them to you to wear.

Of all men I know, you are, in my view, the finest where the people are concerned, the most dedicated to the city— and to my toes.

Isn’t it terrible a pair of shoes could be so important,

and you can’t remember all I’ve done on your behalf? I’m the one who stopped those who screw other men illegally, by taking Gryttus from the voting rolls.

Surely what is terrible is that you inspected arse holes and prevented buggers breaking laws when there’s no doubt you made them stop out of sheer jealousy, fearing they might turn into politicians.

But you can look at Demos, who’s so old,

without a coat, and, even in winter, you don’t think it’s proper to offer him a garment with two sleeves. I, by contrast, am presenting this to you.

What a fine idea— even Themistocles never thought of that! And although that business with Piraeus was clever enough, in my opinion it’s not a greater notion than this coat.

My god, what silly tricks you keep using to attack me!

No, I’m simply borrowing

your strategies, in the same way a man who’s been drinking, when he needs a shit, might help himself to someone else’s slippers.

You’re not going to outdo me with flattery!

I’ll put this over him. You can shove it, you scoundrel!

Bah! Damn and blast you to hell! It stinks of leather—totally disgusting!

He tried to wrap you in that deliberately so he could suffocate you. That’s the scheme he worked on you before. You know the time

the cost of silphium stalks was so cheap?

Yes, I remember that.

Well, this man here made sure the cost was low on purpose, so people would buy the stuff and eat it, and then jury men sitting in the courts would kill each other with their farts.

By Poseidon, that’s just what a man from Shitsville told me.

At that time did you not all turn reddish brown

from all the farting.

By god, that was a scheme worthy of some rogue we caught red handed.

You bastard!

You’re pissing me off with all this foolery.

Well, the goddess told me I could beat you in slinging bullshit.

But you won’t prevail.

Demos, I say I’ll offer you a bowl of state money, a salary, to feast on— and you don’t ever have to do a thing!

And I’m giving you this small container, some ointment, to rub over these bruises on your shins.

But I’ll pluck out your grey hairs and make you young again.

Look here, take this—

a hare’s tail to wipe your dear little eyes.

Blow your nose, Demos, and then use my head

to wipe snot from your fingers.

No, no. Use mine.

No, mine!

I’ll make you captain of a ship— that will take all your money. You’ll have an old ship, so you never see an end to spending cash and making more repairs. I’ll make sure you get one with rotten sails.

The man is on the boil! Stop! That’s enough! He’s boiling over. We have to pull away

some of the faggots and skim off his threats with this ladle.

I’ll make you pay for this— I’ll crush you with taxes. I’ll make sure your name is listed among those with lots of cash.

I will make no threats. But I have a wish— may your saucepan of squid be standing there sizzling hot and you about to announce

your view of the Milesians and so gain a talent for yourself if you win out; may you be making haste to eat the squid

and still get to the meeting in good time, but before you eat the meal, may a man come for you, and you, in your eagerness to get that talent, swallow down the squid

and choke on it.

By Zeus, that’s a splendid wish! Yes, by Apollo and Demeter, too!

I agree, and it’s clear enough this man is a fine citizen. It’s been ages since a man of his sort has come along for the vulgar common folk. As for you,

Paphlagonian, you say you love me, but you just make me ready for a fight. Now, hand back my signet ring—no longer will you be my steward.

Take it. But know this— if you won’t allow me to be your steward, another man will show up and get his turn, someone more disreputable than me.