Lines 122–265

WEALTH.
Eh, but I’m horribly afraid of Zeus!

CHREMYLUS.
Aye, say you so, you cowardliest God alive?
What! do you think the imperial power of Zeus
And all his thunderbolts were worth one farthing,
Could you but see, for ever so short a time?

WEALTH.
Ah, don’t say that, you wretches!

CHREMYLUS.
Don’t be frightened!
I’ll prove that you’re far stronger, mightier far
Than Zeus.

WEALTH.
You’ll prove that I am?

CHREMYLUS.
Easily.
Come, what makes Zeus the Ruler of the Gods?

CARIO.
His silver. He’s the wealthiest of them.

CHREMYLUS.
Well,
Who gives him all his riches?

CARIO.
Our friend here.

CHREMYLUS.
And for whose sake do mortals sacrifice
To Zeus?

CARIO.
For his: and pray straight out for wealth,

CHREMYLUS.
’Tis all his doing: and ’tis he can quickly
Undo it if he will.

WEALTH.
How mean you that?

CHREMYLUS.
I mean that nevermore will mortal man
Bring ox, or cake, or any sacrifice,
If such thy will.

WEALTH.
How so?

CHREMYLUS.
How can he buy
A gift to offer, if thy power deny
The needful silver? Single-handed, thou,
If Zeus prove troublesome, canst crush his power.

WEALTH.
Men sacrifice to Zeus for me?

CHREMYLUS.
They do.
And whatsoever in the world is bright,
And fair, and graceful, all is done for thee.
For every mortal thing subserves to Wealth.

CARIO.
Hence for a little filthy lucre I’m
A slave, forsooth, because I’ve got no wealth.

CHREMYLUS.
And those Corinthian huzzies, so they say,
If he who sues them for their love is poor,
Turn up their noses at the man; but grant
A wealthy suitor more than he desires.

CARIO.
So too the boy-loves; just to get some money,
And not at all because they love their lovers.

CHREMYLUS.
Those are the baser, not the nobler sort,
These never ask for money.

CARIO.
No? what then?

CHREMYLUS.
O one a hunter, one a pack of hounds.

CARIO.
Ah, they’re ashamed, I warrant, of their vice,
And seek to crust it over with a name.

CHREMYLUS.
And every art existing in the world,
And every craft, was for thy sake invented.
For thee one sits and cobbles all the day,
One works in bronze, another works in wood,
One fuses gold—the gold derived from thee—

CARIO.
One plies the footpad’s, one the burglar’s trade,

CHREMYLUS.
One is a fuller, one a sheepskin-washer,
One is a tanner, one an onion-seller,
Through thee the nabbed adulterer gets off plucked.

WEALTH.
O, and all this I never knew before!

CHREMYLUS.
Aye, ’tis on him the Great King plumes himself;
And our Assemblies all are held for him;
Dost thou not man our triremes? Answer that.
Does he not feed the foreign troop at Corinth?
Won’t Pamphilus be brought to grief for him?

CARIO.
Won’t Pamphilus and the needle-seller too?
Does not Agyrrhius flout us all for him?

CHREMYLUS.
Does not Philepsius tell his tales for thee?
Dost thou not make the Egyptians our allies?
And Lais love the uncouth Philonides?

CARIO.
Timotheus’ tower—

CHREMYLUS.
Pray Heaven it fall and crush you!
Aye, everything that’s done is done for thee.
Thou art alone, thyself alone, the source
Of all our fortunes, good and bad alike.
’Tis so in war; wherever he alights,
That side is safe the victory to win.

WEALTH.
Can I, unaided, do such feats as these?

CHREMYLUS.
O yes, by Zeus, and many more than these.
So that none ever has enough of thee.
Of all things else a man may have too much,
Of love,

CARIO.
Of loaves,

CHREMYLUS.
Of literature,

CARIO.
Of sweets,

CHREMYLUS.
Of honour,

CARIO.
Cheesecakes,

CHREMYLUS.
Manliness,

CARIO.
Dried figs,

CHREMYLUS.
Ambition,

CARIO.
Barley-meal,

CHREMYLUS.
Command,

CARIO.
Pea soup.

CHREMYLUS.
But no man ever has enough of thee.
For give a man a sum of thirteen talents,
And all the more he hungers for sixteen;
Give him sixteen, and he must needs have forty
Or life’s not worth his living, so he says.

WEALTH.
Ye seem to me to speak extremely well,
Yet on one point I’m fearful.

CHREMYLUS.
What is that?

WEALTH.
This mighty power which ye ascribe to me,
I can’t imagine how I’m going to wield it.

CHREMYLUS.
O this it is that all the people say,
Wealth is the cowardliest thing.

WEALTH.
It is not true.
That is some burglar’s slander; breaking into
A wealthy house, he found that everything
Was under lock and key, and so got nothing:
Wherefore he called my forethought, cowardliness.

CHREMYLUS.
Well, never mind; assist us in the work
And play the man; and very soon I’ll make you
Of keener sight than ever Lynceus was.

WEALTH.
Why, how can you, a mortal man, do that?

CHREMYLUS.
Good hope have I from that which Phoebus told me,
Shaking the Pythian laurel as he spoke.

WEALTH.
Is Phoebus privy to your plan?

CHREMYLUS.
He is.

WEALTH.
Take heed!

CHREMYLUS.
Don’t fret yourself, my worthy friend.

CARIO.
I am the man: I’ll work the matter through,
Though I should die for it.

CHREMYLUS.
And so will I.
And many other bold allies will come,
Good virtuous men without a grain of—barley.

WEALTH.
Bless me! a set of rather poor allies.

CHREMYLUS.
Not when you’ve made them wealthy men once more.
Hi, Cario, run your fastest, and

CARIO.
Do what?

CHREMYLUS.
Summon my farm-companions from the fields
(You’ll find them there, poor fellows, hard at work),
And fetch them hither; so that each and all
May have, with me, an equal share in Wealth.

CARIO.
Here goes! I’m off. Come out there, somebody,
And carry in my little piece of meat.

CHREMYLUS.
I’ll see to that: you, run away directly.
But thou, dear Wealth, the mightiest Power of all,
Come underneath my roof. Here stands the house,
Which thou art going evermore to fill
With wealth and plenty, by fair means or foul.

WEALTH.
And yet it irks me, I protest it does,
To enter in beneath a stranger’s roof.
I never got the slightest good from that.
Was it a miser’s house; the miser straight
Would dig a hole and pop me underground;
And if some worthy neighbour came to beg
A little silver for his urgent needs,
Would vow he’d never seen me in his life.
Or was it some young madcap’s: in a jiffey
Squandered and lost amongst his drabs and dice
I’m bundled, naked, out of house and home.

CHREMYLUS.
You never chanced upon a moderate man,
But now you have; for such a man am I,
For much I joy in saving, no man more,
And much in spending when ’tis right to spend.
So go we in; I long to introduce
My wife and only son whom most I love—
After yourself of course.

WEALTH.
That I believe.

CHREMYLUS.
Why should one say what is not true to you?

CARIO.
O ye who many a day have chewed
a root of thyme with master,
My labour-loving village-friends,
be pleased to step out faster;
Be staunch and strong, and stride along,
let nothing now delay you,
Your fortunes lie upon the die,
come save them quick, I pray you.

CHORUS.
Now don’t you see we’re bustling, we,
as fast as we can go, sir?
We’re not so young as once we were,
and Age is somewhat slow, sir.
You’d think it fun to see us run,
and that before you’ve told us
The reason why your master seems
so anxious to behold us.

CARIO.
Why, I’ve been telling long ago;
’tis you are not attending!
He bade me call and fetch you all
that you, for ever ending
This chill ungenial life of yours,
might lead a life luxurious.

CHORUS.
Explain to me how that can be;
i’ faith I’m rather curious.