Sausage-Seller
No, on mine. Cleon
On mine. I will have you made a trierarch and you will get ruined through it; I will arrange that you are given an old vessel with rotten sails, [915] which you will have to repair constantly and at great cost. Chorus
Our man is on the boil; enough, enough, [920] he is boiling over; remove some of the embers from under him and skim off his threats. Cleon
I will punish your self-importance; I will crush you with imposts; [925] I will have you inscribed on the list of the rich. Sausage-Seller
For me no threats —only one simple wish. That you may [930] be having some cuttle-fish fried on the stove just as you are going to set forth to plead the cause of the Milesians, which, if you gain it, means a talent in your pocket; that you hurry over devouring the fish to rush off to the Assembly; [935] suddenly you are called and run off with your mouth full so as not to lose the talent and [940] choke yourself. There! that is my wish.
Leader of the Chorus
Splendid! by Zeus, Apollo and Demeter!