C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
From The Arbitrants
By Menander (c. 342c. 292 B.C.)
S
Davus—And you, unchancy, blackmail me.
Syriscus—You have no right to what’s not yours. Let’s leave the case
To some third person.
Davus—I agree. Let’s arbitrate.
Syriscus—Who shall it be?
Davus—For my part anyone will suit.
It serves me right, for why did I go shares with you?
Syriscus—Will you take him as judge?
Davus—Luck help me, yes!
Syriscus[to Smicrines]—Good sir,
Now, by the gods, could you give us a moment’s time?
Smicrines—Give you? And wherefore?
Syriscus—We’ve a question in dispute.
Smicrines—What’s that to me, pray?
Syriscus—Some impartial judge for this
We’re seeking now, and so, if nothing hinders you,
Adjust our quarrel.
Smicrines—Rascals marked for misery!
Dressed in your goat-skins, do you walk and talk of law?
Syriscus—But none the less the matter’s short and easily
Decided. Grant the favor, father. By the gods,
Do not despise us, for at all times it behooves
That justice gain the upper hand, yes, everywhere,
And every one that comes along should take his part
In looking out for this. It is the common lot
We all must share.
Davus[aside]—I’ve grappled no mean orator,
Why did I give him part in this?
Smicrines—Will you abide
By my decision? Say.
Syricus and Davus[together]—Of course.
Smicrines—I’ll hear. For what’s
To hinder?[To Davus.]
You! you close-mouthed fellow there! Speak first.
Davus—I’ll start a little further back, not simply tell
His part, that I may make the matter plain to you.
Within this bushy thicket here, hard by this place
My flock I was a-herding, now, perhaps, good sir,
Some thirty days gone by, and I was all alone,
When I came on a little infant child exposed
With necklace and with some such other ornaments.
Syriscus[interrupting]—Of these, just these, we’re talking.
Davus—He won’t let me speak!
Smicrines[to Syriscus]—If you put in your chatter, with this stick of mine
I’ll fetch you one.
Davus—And serve him right.
Smicrines[to Davus]—Speak on.
Davus—I will.
I took him up and with him went off to my house,
I had in mind to rear him—’twas my notion then—
But overnight came counsel, as it does to all,
And with myself I reasoned: “What have I to do
With rearing children and the trouble? Where shall I
Find so much money? What anxiety for me!”
Thus minded was I. Back unto my flock again
At daybreak. Came this fellow—he’s a charcoal man—
Unto this selfsame place to saw out tree-stumps there.
Now he had had acquaintance with me heretofore,
And so we fell to talking. Noticing my gloom
Says he: “Why’s Davus anxious?” “Now why not?” says I,
“For I’m a meddler.” And I tell him of the facts:
How I had found, how owned the child. And straightway then
Ere I could tell him everything, he begged and begged:
“So, Davus, blessed be your lot!” at every word
Exclaiming: “Give to me the baby! So, good luck
Be yours! So, be you free. For I’ve a wife,” he says,
“And she gave birth unto a baby and it died”—
(Meaning this woman here that holds the baby now)—
Smicrines[to Syriscus]—You begged?
Davus[to Syriscus, who at first fails to answer]—Syriscus!
Syriscus—Yes, I did.
Davus—The live-long day
He pestered me, and when he urged, entreated me
I promised him; I gave the child and off he went
Calling down countless blessings, seized my hands and kissed
And kissed them.
Smicrines[to Syriscus]—You did this?
Syriscus—I did.
Davus—Well, off he went.
Just now he meets me with his wife, and suddenly
Lays claim to all the things then with the child exposed—
(Now these were small and worthless, merely nothing)—claims
That he should have them; says he’s treated scurvily
Because I will not give them, claim them for myself.
But I declare he’d better feel some gratitude
For what he did get by his begging. If I fail
To give him all, no need to bring me to account.
If even walking with me he had found these things,
And ’twere a “Share-all Windfall,” he had taken this,
I that. But when I made the find alone, do you,
Although you were not by, do you, I say, expect
To have it all yourself, and not one thing for me?
In fine, I gave you of my own, with free-will gave:
If this still pleases you, then keep it even now,
But if it doesn’t suit and if you’ve changed your mind
Why, then return it. Don’t commit nor suffer wrong.
But, part by my consent and part by forcing me,
That you get all—that were not fair. I’ve said my say.
Syriscus—Has said his say?
Smicrines—You’re deaf?
Syriscus—He’s said his say. All right
Then I come after. All alone this fellow here
The baby found and all of this he’s telling now
He tells correctly, father, and it happened so.
I do not contradict. I did entreat and beg
And I received it from him. Yes, he tells the truth.
A certain shepherd, fellow laborer of his
With whom he had been talking, now brings word to me
That with the baby he had found some ornaments.
On this account, see, father, he is here himself!
Give me the baby, wife.[Takes the child from his wife’s arms.]
Now, Davus, here from you
He’s asking back the necklace and the souvenirs,
For he declares that these were placed upon himself
For his adorning, not for piecing out your keep.
I too join in, and ask for them, as guardian—
You made me that by giving him. And now, good sir,
Methinks ’t is yours to settle whether it be right
These golden trinkets and whatever else there be
As given by his mother, whosoe’er she was,
Be put by for the baby till he come of age
Or this sneak-thief who stripped him is to have these things,
Belonging unto others, if he found them first!
“Why didn’t I,” you’ll say, “when first I took the child,
Demand them then of you?” It was not then as yet
Within my power to speak thus in the child’s behalf;
And even now I’m here demanding no one thing
That’s mine, mine only. “Windfall! Share-all!” None of that!
No “finding” when ’tis question of a person wronged.
That is not “finding,” simple confiscation that!
And look at this too, father. Maybe this boy here
Was born above our station. Reared ’mongst working-folk
He will despise our doings, his own level seek
And venture on some action suiting noble birth:
Will go a-lion-hunting; carry arms; or run
A race at games. You’ve seen tragedians, I know,
And all of this you understand. Those heroes once,
Pelias, Neleus, by an aged man were found,
A goat-herd in his goat-skin dressed as I am now,
And, when he noticed they were better born than he,
He tells the matter, how he found, how took them up.
He gave them back their wallet, with birth-tokens filled.
And thus they found out clearly all their history,
And they, the one-time goat-herds, afterwards were kings.
But had a Davus found those things and sold them off,
That he might profit by twelve drachmas for himself,
Through all the coming ages they had been unknown
Who were such great ones and of such a pedigree.
And so it is not fitting, father, that I here
Should rear his body and that Davus seize meanwhile
His life’s hope for the future, make it disappear.
A youth about to wed his sister once was stopped
By just such tokens. One a mother found and saved.
This one a brother. Since, O father, all men’s lives
Are liable to dangers, we must watch, look out,
By long ahead providing what is possible.
“Well, if you are not suited, give him back,” says he.
This is his stronghold in the matter, as he thinks.
But that’s no justice. Must you give up what is his,
Then in addition would you claim to have the child
That more securely you may play the rogue again
If some of his belongings Fortune has preserved?
I’ve said my say.
Smicrines—Well, this decision’s easy: “All that was exposed
Together with the child goes with him,” I decide.
Davus—All right. But now, the baby?
Smicrines—Zeus, I won’t decide
He’s yours who’d wrong him, but he’s his who came to aid,
This man’s who stood against you, you who’d injure him.
Syriscus—Now yours be many blessings!
Davus—Nay, a verdict rank!
By Zeus the saviour! I, the sole discoverer,
Am stripped of all and he who did not find receives!
Am I to hand these over?
Smicrines—Yes.
Davus—A verdict rank
Else may no blessing ever light on me!
Syriscus—Come. Quick!
Davus—Good Heracles, how I am treated!
Syriscus—Loose your sack
And show us, for it’s there you carry them.
I beg, a little, till he gives them up.
Davus[aside]—Why did
I let him judge our case?
Smicrines—Come, give, you quarry-slave!
Davus[handing over the tokens]—What shameful treatment!
Smicrines[to Syriscus]—Have you all?
Syriscus—I think so, yes.
Smicrines—You have, unless he swallowed something down while I
Gave verdict of conviction.
Syriscus—I’d not believe he could.
Nay, then, good sir, may Luck attend you. Sooner far
I’d have the judges all like you.
O Heracles! This verdict, was it not too rank?
Syriscus—You were a rascal, rascal you!
Davus—Look out yourself,
Yes, you now, that you keep these trinkets safe for him.
Aye, mark you well, I’ll ever have an eye on you.
Syriscus[calling after him]—Go hang! Go gang your gait! But you, my wife, take these
And carry them in here to our young master’s house.
For meanwhile here we will await Chærestratus
And in the morning we’ll start off to work again
When we have made our payments. Stop! Let’s count them first,
Count over, one by one. Have you a basket there?
Here, loose your dress, and drop them in.
S
Onesimus[to himself]—A slower chef
Nobody ever saw. Why, this time yesterday
Long since they had their wine.
Syriscus[talks to his wife of the trinkets without noticing Onesimus]—Now this one seems to be
A sort of rooster and a tough one too! Take that.
And here is something set with stones. This one’s an axe.
Onesimus[becoming aware of Syriscus and his occupation]—What’s this?
Syriscus[still failing to notice Onesimus]—This one’s a ring of plated gold. Inside
It’s iron. On the seal is carved—a bull?—or goat?
I can’t tell which, and one Cleostratus is he
That made it—so the letters say.
Onesimus[interrupting]—I say, show me!
Syriscus[startled into handing him the ring]—Well, there! But who are you?
Onesimus—The very one!
Syriscus—Who is?
Onesimus—The ring.
Syriscus—What ring d’ye mean? I don’t know what you mean.
Onesimus—Charisius’s ring, my master’s ring!
Syriscus—You’re cracked!
Onesimus—The one he lost.
Syriscus—Put down that ring, you wretched man!
Onesimus—Our ring? “Put down” for you? Where did you get it from?
Syriscus—Apollo and the gods! What awful strait it is,
To bring off safe an orphan baby’s property!
The first to come forthwith has plunder in his eyes,
Put down that ring, I say.
Onesimus—You’d jest with me, you would?
It’s master’s ring. By your Apollo and the gods!
Syriscus—I’d have my throat cut sooner than give in at all
To him, I vow. That’s settled. I will have the law
On each and all by turns. The boy’s they are, not mine.
This one’s a collar. Take it, you.[To his wife.]A chiton’s flap
Of purple, this. Go, take them in.
[To Onesimus.]
What’s this you’re saying to me?
Onesimus—I? This ring is his,
Charisius’s. Once when drunk, or so he said,
He lost it.
Syriscus—I’m Chærestratus’s tenant slave.
So either save it carefully or give to me
That I may keep and safe deliver.
Onesimus—I prefer
Myself as guard.
Syriscus—To me that matters not one whit,
For both of us are going, as it seems, in here.
Into the selfsame place.
Onesimus—Just now it’s no good time
Perhaps, when guests are coming in, to tell him this
Our story, but to-morrow—
Syriscus—I will wait till then.
To-morrow, in a word, I’m ready to submit
This case to anyone you like.
I’ve come off not so badly, but it seems as though
A man must give up all besides and practice law.
By this means, nowadays, is everything kept straight.
[Enter a group of revellers, probably from the city.]
Chorus.
[E