Cock. Why, master, I meant to give you a pleasant surprise: I borrowed what I could from the night, that you might be up early and break the back of your work; think, if you get a shoe done before sunrise, you are so much the nearer to earning your day’s bread. However, if you prefer to sleep, I have done; I will be mute as any fish. Only you may find your rich dreams followed by a hungry awakening13.
Mi. God of portents15! Heracles preserve us from the evil to come! My cock has spoken with a human voice.
Cock. And what if he has? Is that so very portentous17?
Mi. I should think it was. All Gods avert18 the omen19!
Cock. Micyllus, I am afraid your education has been sadly neglected. If you had read your Homer, you would know that Achilles’s horse Xanthus declined to have anything more to do with neighing, and stood on the field of battle spouting20 whole hexameters; he was not content with plain prose like me; he even took to prophecy, and foretold21 to Achilles what should befall him. Nor was this considered anything out of the way; Achilles saw nothing portentous about it, nor did he invoke22 Heracles on the occasion. What a fuss you would have made, if the keel of the Argo had addressed a remark to you, or the leaves of the Dodonaean oak had opened their mouths and prophesied23; or if you had seen ox-hides crawling about, and heard the half-cooked flesh of the beasts bellowing24 on the spit! As for me, considering my connexion with Hermes — most loquacious25, most argumentative of Gods — and my familiar intercourse26 with mankind, it was only to be expected that I should pick up your language pretty quickly. Nay27, there is a still better reason for my conversational28 powers, which I don’t mind telling you, if you will promise to keep quiet about it.
Mi. Am I dreaming still, or is this bird really talking to me? — In Hermes’ name then, good creature, out with your better reason; I will be mum, never fear; it shall go no further. Why, who would believe the story, when I told him that I had it from a cock?
Cock. Listen. You will doubtless be surprised to learn that not so long ago the cock who stands before you was a man.
Mi. Why, to be sure, I have heard something like this before about a cock. It was the story of a young man called Alectryon 62; he was a friend of Ares — used to join in his revels29 and junketings, and give him a hand in his love affairs. Whenever Ares went to pay a sly visit to Aphrodite, he used to take Alectryon with him, and as he was particularly afraid that the Sun would see him, and tell Hephaestus, he would always leave Alectryon at the door, so that he might give him warning when the Sun was up. But one day Alectryon fell asleep, and unwittingly betrayed his trust; the consequence was that the Sun got a peep at the lovers, while Ares was having a comfortable nap, relying on Alectryon to tell him if any one came. Hephaestus heard of it, and caught them in that cage of his, which he had long had waiting for them. When Ares was released, he was so angry with Alectryon that he turned him into a cock, armour30 and all, as is shown by his crest31; and that is what makes you cocks in such a hurry to crow at dawn, to let us know that the Sun is coming up presently; it is your way of apologizing to Ares, though crowing will not mend matters now.
Cock. Yes, there is that story too: but that is nothing to do with mine; I only became a cock quite lately.
Mi. But what I want to know is, how did it happen?
Cock. Did you ever hear of Pythagoras of Samos, son of Mnesarchus?
Mi. What, that sophist quack32, who forbade the eating of meat, and would have banished33 beans from our tables (no beans, indeed! my favourite food!), and who wanted people to go for five years without speaking?
Cock. And who, I may add, was Euphorbus before he was Pythagoras.
Mi. He was a knave34 and a humbug35, that Pythagoras, by all accounts.
Cock. That Pythagoras, my worthy36 friend, is now before you in person: spare his feelings, especially as you know nothing about his real character.
Mi. Portent14 upon portent! a cock philosopher! But proceed, son of Mnesarchus: how came you to change from man to bird, from Samos to Tanagra? 63 ’Tis an unconvincing story; I find a difficulty in swallowing it. I have noticed two things about you already, which do not look much like Pythagoras.
Cock. Yes?
Mi. For one thing, you are garrulous37; I might say noisy. Now, if I am not mistaken, Pythagoras advocated a course of five years’ silence at a stretch. As for the other, it is rank heresy38. You will remember that yesterday, not having anything else to give you, I brought you some beans: and you — you gobbled them up without thinking twice about it! Either you lied when you told me you were Pythagoras, or else you have sinned against your own laws: in eating those beans, you have as good as bolted your own father’s head.
Cock. Ah, you don’t understand, Micyllus. There is a reason for these things: different diets suit different creatures. I was a philosopher in those days: accordingly I abstained39 from beans. Now, on the contrary, I propose to eat beans; they are an unexceptionable diet for birds. And now if you like I will tell you how from being Pythagoras I have come to be — what you see me; and all about the other lives I have lived, and what were the good points of each.
Mi. Tell on; there is nothing I should like better. Indeed, if I were given my choice between hearing your story, and having my late dream of riches over again, I don’t know which I should decide on. ’Twas a sweet vision, of joys above all price: yet not above the tale of my cock’s adventures.
Cock. What, still puzzling over the import of a dream? Still busy with vain phantoms40, chasing a visionary happiness through your head, that ‘fleeting’ joy, as the poet calls it?
Mi. Ah, cock, cock, I shall never forget it. That dream has left its honeyed spell on my eyelids41; ’tis all I can do to open them; they would fain close once more in sleep. As a feather tickles43 the ear, so did that vision tickle42 my imagination.
Cock. Bless me, you seem to be very hard hit. Dreams are winged, so they say, and their flight circumscribed44 by sleep: this one seems to have broken bounds, and taken up its abode45 in wakeful eyes, transferring thither46 its honeyed spell, its lifelike presence. Tell me this dream of your desire.
Mi. With all my heart; it is a joy to remember it, and to speak of it. But what about your transformations47?
Cock. They must wait till you have done dreaming, and wiped the honey from your eyelids. So you begin: I want to see which gates the dream came through, the ivory or the horn.
Mi. Through neither.
Cock. Well, but these are the only two that Homer mentions.
Mi. Homer may go hang: what does a babbling48 poet know about dreams? Pauper49 dreams may come through those gates, for all I know; that was the kind that Homer saw, and not over clearly at that, as he was blind. But my beauty came through golden gates, golden himself and clothed in gold and bringing gold.
Cock. Enough of gold, most gentle Midas; for to a Midas-prayer it is that I trace your vision; you must have dreamt whole minefuls.
Mi. Gold upon gold was there; picture if you can that glorious lightning-flash! What is it that Pindar says about gold? Can you help me to it? He says water is best, and then very properly proceeds to sing the praises of gold; it comes at the beginning of the book, and a beautiful ode it is.
Cock. What about this?
Chiefest of all good we hold Water: even so doth gold, Like a fire that flameth through the night, Shine mid9 lordly wealth most lordly bright.
Mi. The very words; I could fancy that Pindar had seen my vision. And now, my philosophic50 cock, I will proceed to details. That I did not dine at home last night, you are already aware; the wealthy Eucrates had met me in the morning, and told me to come to dinner after my bath at his usual hour.
Cock. Too well do I know it, after starving all day long. It was quite late before you came home — half-seas over — and gave me those five beans; rather short commons for a cock who has been an athlete in his day, and contended at Olympia, not without distinction.
Mi. Well, so when I got back, and had given you the beans, I went to sleep, and
Through the ambrosial52 night a dream divine —
ah, divine indeed! —
Cock. Wait: let us have Eucrates first. What sort of a dinner was it? Tell me all about it. Seize the opportunity: dine once more in waking dream; chew the cud of prandial reminiscence.
Mi. I thought all that would bore you; however, if you are curious, all right. I had never dined at a great house in my life before, when yesterday, in a lucky hour for me, I fell in with Eucrates. After saluting53 him respectfully as usual, I was making off — not to bring discredit54 on him by walking at his side in my shabby clothes — when he spoke16 to me: ‘Micyllus,’ he said, ‘it is my daughter’s birthday today, and I have invited a number of friends to celebrate it. One of them, I hear, is indisposed, and will not be able to come; you can take his place, always provided that I do not hear from him, for at present I do not know whether to expect him or not.’ I made my bow, and departed, praying that ague, pleurisy, and gout might light upon the invalid55 whose appetite I had the honour to represent. I thought bath-time would never come; I could not keep my eyes off the dial: where was the shadow now? could I go yet? At last it really was time: I scraped the dirt off, and made myself smart, turning my cloak inside out, so that the clean side might be uppermost. Among the numerous guests assembled at the door, whom should I see but the very man whose understudy I was to be, the invalid, in a litter! He was evidently in a sad way; groaning56 and coughing and spitting in the most alarmingly emphatic57 manner; ghostly pale, puffy, and not much less, I reckoned, than sixty years old. He was a philosopher, so they said — one of those who fill boys’ heads with nonsensical ideas. Certainly his beard was well adapted to the part he played; it cried aloud for the barber. Archibius the doctor asked him what induced him to venture out in that state of health. ‘Oh,’ says he, ‘a man must not shirk his duties, least of all a philosopher; no matter if a thousand ailments58 stand in his way. Eucrates would have taken it as a slight.’ ‘You’re out there,’ I cried; ‘Eucrates would be only too glad if you would cough out your soul at home instead of doing it at his table.’ He made as if he had not heard my jest; he was above such things. Presently in came Eucrates from his bath, and seeing Thesmopolis (the philosopher), ‘Ah, Professor,’ says he, ‘I am glad to see you here; not that it would have made any difference, even if you had stayed at home; I should have had everything sent over to you.’ And with that he took the philosopher’s hand, and with the help of the slaves, conducted him in. I thought it was time for me to be going about my business: however, Eucrates turned round to me, and seeing how glum59 I looked, ‘Micyllus,’ says he, after a good deal of humming and ha’ing, ‘you must join us; we shall find room for you; I can send my boy to dine with his mother and the women.’ It had very nearly turned out a wild-goose chase, but not quite: I walked in, feeling rather ashamed of myself for having done the boy out of his dinner. We were now to take our places. Thesmopolis was first hoisted60 into his, with some difficulty, by five stalwart youths, who propped61 him up on every side with cushions to keep him in his place and enable him to hold out to the end. As no one else was disposed to have him for a neighbour, that privilege was assigned to me without ceremony. And then dinner was brought in: such dainties, Pythagoras, such variety! and everything served on gold or silver. Golden cups, smart servants, musicians, jesters — altogether, it was delightful. Thesmopolis, though, annoyed me a good deal: he kept on worrying about virtue62, and explaining how two negatives make one positive, and how when it is day it is not night 64; among other things, he would have it that I had horns 65. I wanted none of his philosophy, but on he went, quite spoiling my pleasure; it was impossible to listen to the music and singing. So that is what the dinner was like.
Cock. Not much of a one, especially with that old fool for your neighbour.
Mi. And now for the dream, which was about no other than Eucrates. How it came about I don’t know, but Eucrates was childless, and was on his death-bed; he sent for me and made his will, leaving everything to me, and soon after died. I now came into the property, and ladled out gold and silver by the bucketful from springs that never dried; furniture and plate, clothes and servants, all were mine. I drove abroad, the admiration63 of all eyes and the envy of all hearts, lolling in my carriage behind a pair of creams, with a crowd of attendants on horseback and on foot in front of me, and a larger crowd behind. Dressed in Eucrates’s splendid clothes, my fingers loaded with a score or so of rings, I ordered a magnificent feast to be prepared for the entertainment of my friends. The next moment they were there — it happens so in dreams; dinner was brought in, the wine splashed in the cups. I was pledging each of my friends in turn in beakers of gold, and the biscuits were just being brought in, when that unlucky crow of yours spoilt all: over went the tables, and away flew my visionary wealth to all the quarters of Heaven. Had I not some reason to be annoyed with you? I could have gone on with that dream for three nights on end.
Cock. Is the love of gold so absorbing a passion? Gold the only thing you can find to admire? The possession of gold the sole happiness?
Mi. I am not the only one, Pythagoras. Why, you yourself (when you were Euphorbus) used to go to battle with your hair adorned64 with gold and silver, though iron would have been more to the point than gold under the circumstances; however, you thought differently, and fought with a golden circlet about your brow; which I suppose is why Homer compares your hair to that of the Graces
in gold and silver clasped.
No doubt its charm would be greatly enhanced by the glitter of the interwoven gold. After all, though, you, my golden-haired friend, were but the son of Panthus; one can understand your respect for gold. But the father of Gods and men, the son of Cronus and Rhea himself, could find no surer way to the heart of his Argive enchantress 66— or to those of her gaolers — than this same metal; you know the story, how he turned himself into gold, and came showering down through the roof into the presence of his beloved? Need I say more? Need I point out the useful purposes that gold serves? the beauty and wisdom and strength, the honour and glory it confers on its possessors, at a moment’s notice turning obscurity and infamy65 into world-wide fame? You know my neighbour and fellow craftsman66, Simon, who supped with me not long since? ’Twas at the Saturnalia, the day I made that pease-pudding, with the two slices of sausage in it?
Cock. I know: the little snub-nosed fellow, who went off with our pudding-basin under his arm — the only one we had; I saw him with these eyes.
Mi. So it was he who stole that basin! and he swore by all his Gods that he knew nothing of it! But you should have called out, and told me how we were being plundered67.
Cock. I did crow; it was all I could do just then. But what were you going to say about Simon?
Mi. He had a cousin, Drimylus, who was tremendously rich. During his lifetime, Drimylus never gave him a penny; and no wonder, for he never laid a finger on his money himself. But the other day he died, and Simon has come in for everything. No more dirty rags for him now, no more trencher-licking: he drives abroad clothed in purple and scarlet68; slaves and horses are his, golden cups and ivory-footed tables, and men prostrate69 themselves before him. As for me, he will not so much as look at me: it was only the other day that I met him, and said, ‘Good day, Simon’: he flew into a rage: ‘Tell that beggar,’ he said, ‘not to cut down my name; it is Simonides, not Simon.’ And that is not all — the women are in love with him too, and Simon is coy and cold: some he receives graciously, but the neglected ones declare they will hang themselves. See what gold can do! It is like Aphrodite’s girdle, transforming the unsightly and making them lovely to behold70. What say the poets?
Happy the hand that grasps thee, Gold!
and again,
Gold hath dominion71 over mortal men.
But what are you laughing at?
Cock. Ah, Micyllus, I see that you are no wiser than your neighbours; you have the usual mistaken notions about the rich, whose life, I assure you, is far more miserable72 than your own. I ought to know: I have tried everything, and been poor man and rich man times out of number. You will find out all about it before long.
Mi. Ah, to be sure, it is your turn now. Tell me how you came to be changed into a cock, and what each of your lives was like.
Cock. Very well; and I may remark, by way of preface, that of all the lives I have ever known none was happier than yours.
Mi. Than mine? Exasperating73 fowl74! All I say is, may you have one like it! Now then: begin from Euphorbus, and tell me how you came to be Pythagoras, and so on, down to the cock. I’ll warrant you have not been through all those different lives without seeing some strange sights, and having your adventures.
Cock. How my spirit first proceeded from Apollo, and took flight to earth, and entered into a human form, and what was the nature of the crime thus expiated75 — all this would take too long to tell; nor is it fitting either for me to speak of such matters or for you to hear of them. I pass to the time when I became Euphorbus —
Mi. Wait a minute: have I ever been changed in this way?
Cock. You have.
Mi. Then who was I, do you know? I am curious about that.
Cock. Why, you were an Indian ant, of the gold-digging species.
Mi. What could induce me, misguided insect that I was, to leave that life without so much as a grain of gold-dust to supply my needs in this one? And what am I going to be next? I suppose you can tell me. If it is anything good, I’ll hang myself this moment from the very perch76 on which you stand.
Cock. That I can on no account divulge77. To resume. When I was Euphorbus, I fought at Troy, and was slain78 by Menelaus. Some time then elapsed before I entered into the body of Pythagoras. During this interval79, I remained without a habitation, waiting till Mnesarchus had prepared one for me.
Mi. What, without meat or drink?
Cock. Oh yes; these are mere80 bodily requirements.
Mi. Well, first I will have about the Trojan war. Did it all happen as Homer describes?
Cock. Homer! What should he know of the matter? He was a camel in Bactria all the time. I may tell you that things were not on such a tremendous scale in those days as is commonly supposed: Ajax was not so very tall, nor Helen so very beautiful. I saw her: she had a fair complexion81, to be sure, and her neck was long enough to suggest her swan parentage 67: but then she was such an age — as old as Hecuba, almost. You see, Theseus had carried her off first, and she had lived with him at Aphidnae: now Theseus was a contemporary of Heracles, and the former capture of Troy, by Heracles, had taken place in the generation before mine; my father, who told me all this, remembered seeing Heracles when he was himself a boy.
Mi. Well, and Achilles: was he so much better than other people, or is that all stuff and nonsense?
Cock. Ah, I never came across Achilles; I am not very strong on the Greeks; I was on the other side, of course. There is one thing, though: I made pretty short work of his friend Patroclus — ran him clean through with my spear.
Mi. After which Menelaus settled you with still greater facility. Well, that will do for Troy. And when you were Pythagoras?
Cock. When I was Pythagoras, I was — not to deceive you — a sophist; that is the long and short of it. At the same time, I was not uncultured, not unversed in polite learning. I travelled in Egypt, cultivated the acquaintance of the priests, and learnt wisdom from their mouths; I penetrated82 into their temples and mastered the sacred books of Orus and Isis; finally, I took ship to Italy, where I made such an impression on the Greeks that they reckoned me among the Gods.
Mi. I have heard all about that; and also how you were supposed to have risen from the dead, and how you had a golden thigh83, and favoured the public with a sight of it on occasion. But what put it into your head to make that law about meat and beans?
Cock. Ah, don’t ask me that, Micyllus.
Mi. But why not?
Cock. I am ashamed to answer you.
Mi. Come, out with it! I am your friend and fellow lodger84; we will drop the ‘master’ now.
Cock. There was neither common sense nor philosophy in that law. The fact is, I saw that if I did just the same as other people, I should draw very few admirers; my prestige, I considered, would be in proportion to my originality85. Hence these innovations, the motive86 of which I wrapped up in mystery; each man was left to make his own conjecture87, that all might be equally impressed by my oracular obscurity. There now! you are laughing at me; it is your turn this time.
Mi. I am laughing much more at the folk of Cortona and Metapontum and Tarentum, and the rest of those mute disciples88 who worshipped the ground you trod on. And in what form was your spirit next clothed, after it had put off Pythagoras?
Cock. In that of Aspasia, the Milesian courtesan.
Mi. Dear, dear! And your versatility89 has even changed sexes? My gallant90 cock has positively91 laid eggs in his time? Pythagoras has carded and spun92? Pythagoras the mistress — and the mother — of a Pericles? My Pythagoras no better than he should be?
Cock. I do not stand alone. I had the example of Tiresias and of Caeneus; your gibes93 touch them as well as me.
Mi. And did you like being a man best, or receiving the addresses of Pericles?
Cock. Ha! the question that Tiresias paid so dearly for answering!
Mi. Never mind, then — Euripides has settled the point; he says he would
rather bear the shock of battle thrice Than once the pangs94 of labour.
Cock. Ah, just a word in your ear: those pangs will shortly be your own; more than once, in the course of a lengthy95 career, you will be a woman.
Mi. Strangulation on the bird! Does he think we all hail from Miletus or Samos? Yes, I said Samos; Pythagoras has had his admirers, by all accounts, as well as Aspasia. However; — what was your sex next time?
Cock. I was the Cynic Crates51.
Mi. Castor and Pollux! What a change was there!
Cock. Then it was a king; then a pauper, and presently a satrap, and after that came horse, jackdaw, frog, and I know not how many more; there is no reckoning them up in detail. Latterly, I have been a cock several times. I liked the life; many is the king, many the pauper and millionaire, with whom I took service in that capacity before I came to you. In your lamentations about poverty, and your admiration of the rich, I find an unfailing source of entertainment; little do you know what those rich have to put up with! If you had any idea of their anxieties, you would laugh to think how you had been deceived as to the blessedness of wealth.
Mi. Well, Pythagoras — or is there any other name you prefer? I shall throw you out, perhaps, if I keep on calling you different things?
Cock. Euphorbus or Pythagoras, Aspasia or Crates, it is all the same to me; one is as much my name as another. Or stay: not to be wanting in respect to a bird whose humble96 exterior97 contains so many souls, you had better use the evidence of your own eyes and call me Cock.
Mi. Then, cock, as you have tried wellnigh every kind of life, you can next give me a clear description of the lives of rich and poor respectively; we will see if there was any truth in your assertion, that I was better off than the rich.
Cock. Well now, look at it this way. To begin with, you are very little troubled with military matters. Suppose there is talk of an invasion: you are under no uneasiness about the destruction of your crops, or the cutting-up of your gardens, or the ruin of your vines; at the first sound of the trumpet98 (if you even hear it), all you have to think of is, how to convey your own person out of harm’s way. Well, the rich have got to provide for that too, and they have the mortification99 into the bargain of looking on while their lands are being ravaged100. Is a war-tax to be levied101? It all falls on them. When you take the field, theirs are the posts of honour — and danger: whereas you, with no worse encumbrance102 than your wicker shield, are in the best of trim for taking care of yourself; and when the time comes for the general to offer up a sacrifice of thanksgiving for his victory, your presence may be relied on at the festive103 scene.
Then again, in time of peace, you, as one of the commons, march up to the Assembly to lord it over the rich, who tremble and crouch104 before you, and seek to propitiate105 you with grants. They must labour, that you may be supplied with baths and games and spectacles and the like to your satisfaction; you are their censor106 and critic, their stern taskmaster, who will not always hear before condemning107; nay, you may give them a smart shower of stones, if the fancy takes you, or confiscate108 their property. The informer’s tongue has no terrors for you; no burglar will scale or undermine your walls in search of gold; you are not troubled with book-keeping or debt-collecting; you have no rascally109 steward110 to wrangle111 with; none of the thousand worries of the rich distract you. No, you patch your shoe, and you take your tenpence; and at dusk up you jump from your bench, get a bath if you are in the humour for it, buy yourself a haddock or some sprats or a few heads of garlic, and make merry therewith; Poverty, best of philosophers, is your companion, and you are seldom at a loss for a song. And what is the result? Health and strength, and a hardiness112 that sets cold at defiance113. Your work keeps you keen-set; the ills that seem insuperable to other men find a tough customer in you. Why, no serious sickness ever comes near you: fever, perhaps, lays a light hand on you now and again; you let him have his way for a day or two, and then you are up again, and shake the pest off; he beats a hasty retreat, not liking114 the look of a man who drinks cold water at that rate, and has such a short way with the doctors. But look at the rich: name the disease to which these creatures are not subjected by their intemperance115; gout, consumption, pneumonia116, dropsy — they all come of high feeding. Some of these men are like Icarus: they fly too high, they get near the sun, not realizing that their wings are fastened with wax; and then some day there is a great splash, and they have disappeared headlong into the deep. Others there are who follow Daedalus’s example; such minds eschew117 the upper air, and keep their wax within splashing distance of the sea; these generally get safely to their journey’s end.
Mi. Shrewd, sensible fellows.
Cock. Yes, but among the others you may see some ugly shipwrecks118. Croesus is plucked of his feathers, and mounts a pyre for the amusement of the Persians. A tyranny capsizes, and the lordly Dionysius is discovered teaching Corinthian children their alphabet.
Mi. You tell me, cock, that you have been a king yourself: now how did you find the life? I expect you had a pleasant time of it, living on the very fat of the land?
Cock. Do not remind me of that miserable existence. A pleasant time! So people thought, no doubt: I knew better; it was vexation upon vexation.
Mi. You surprise me. How should that be? It sounds unlikely.
Cock. The country over which I ruled was both extensive and fertile. Its population and the beauty of its cities alike entitled it to the highest consideration. It possessed119 navigable rivers and excellent harbours. My army was large, my pike-men numerous, my cavalry120 in a high state of efficiency; it was the same with my fleet; and my wealth was beyond calculation. No circumstance of kingly pomp was wanting; gold plate in abundance, everything on the most magnificent scale. I could not leave my palace without receiving the reverential greetings of the public, who looked on me as a God, and crowded together to see me pass; some enthusiasts121 would even betake themselves to the roofs of the houses, lest any detail of my equipage, clothes, crown or attendants should escape them. I could make allowance for the ignorance of my subjects, but this did not prevent me from pitying myself, when I reflected on the vexations and worries of my position. I was like those colossal122 statues, the work of Phidias, Myron or Praxiteles: they too look extremely well from outside: ’tis Posidon with his trident, Zeus with his thunderbolt, all ivory and gold: but take a peep inside, and what have we? One tangle123 of bars, bolts, nails, planks124, wedges, with pitch and mortar125 and everything that is unsightly; not to mention a possible colony of rats or mice. There you have royalty126.
Mi. But you have not told me what is the mortar, what the bolts and bars and other unsightlinesses that lurk127 behind a throne. Admiration, dominion, divine honours — these no doubt fit your simile128; there is a touch of the godlike about them. But now let me have the inside of your colossus.
Cock. And where shall I begin? With fear and suspicion? The resentments129 of courtiers and the machinations of conspirators130? Scant131 and broken sleep, troubled dreams, perplexities, forebodings? Or again with the hurry of business — fiscal132 — legal — military? Orders to be issued, treaties to be drawn133 up, estimates to be formed? As for pleasure, such a thing is not to be dreamt of; no, one man must think for all, toil134 incessantly135 for all. The Achaean host is snoring to a man:
But sweet sleep came not nigh to Atreus’ son, Who pondered many things within his heart.
Lydian Croesus is troubled because his son is dumb; Persian Artaxerxes, because Clearchus is raising a host for Cyrus; Dionysius, because Dion whispers in Syracusan ears; Alexander, because Parmenio is praised. Perdiccas has no peace for Ptolemy, Ptolemy none for Seleucus. And there are other griefs than these: his favourite is cold; his concubine loves another; there is talk of a rebellion; there has been muttering among a half-dozen of his guards. And the bitterness of it is, that his nearest and dearest are those whom he is most called on to distrust; from them he must ever look for harm. One we see poisoned by his son, another by his own favourite; and a third will probably fare no better.
Mi. Whew! I like not this, my cock. Methinks there is safety in bent136 backs and leather-cutting, and none in golden loving-cups; I will pledge no man in hemlock137 or in aconite. All I have to fear is that my knife may slip out of the line, and draw a drop or two from my fingers: but your kings would seem to sit down to dinner with Death, and to lead dogs’ lives into the bargain. They go at last; and then they are more like play-actors than anything else — like such a one as you may see taking the part of Cecrops or Sisyphus or Telephus. He has his diadem138 and his ivory-hilted sword, his waving hair and spangled cloak: but accidents will happen — suppose he makes a false step: down he comes on the middle of the stage, and the audience roars with laughter. For there is his mask, crumpled139 up, diadem and all, and his own bloody140 coxcomb141 showing underneath142 it; his legs are laid bare to the knees, and you see the dirty rags inside his fine robe, and the great lumbering143 buskins. Ha, ha, friend cock, have I learnt to turn a simile already? Well, there are my views on tyranny. Now for the horses and dogs and frogs and fishes: how did you like that kind of thing?
Cock. Your question would take a long time to answer; more time than we can spare. But — to sum up my experience in two words — every one of these creatures has an easier life of it than man. Their aims, their wants, are all confined to the body: such a thing as a tax-farming horse or a litigant144 frog, a jackdaw sophist, a gnat145 confectioner, or a cock pander146, is unknown; they leave such things to humanity.
Mi. It may be as you say. But, cock (I don’t mind making a clean breast of it to you), I have had a fancy all my life for being rich, and I am as bad as ever; nay, worse, for there is the dream, still flaunting147 its gold before my eyes; and that confounded Simon, too — it chokes me to think of him rolling in luxury.
Cock. I’ll put that right. It is still dark, get up and come with me. You shall pay a visit to Simon and other rich men, and see how things stand with them.
Mi. But the doors are locked. Would you have me break in?
Cock. Oh no; but I have a certain privilege from Hermes, my patron: you see my longest tail-feather, the curling one that hangs down —
Mi. There are two curling ones that hang down.
Cock. The one on the right. By allowing any one to pluck out that feather and carry it, I give him the power, for as long as I like, of opening all doors and seeing everything, himself unseen.
Mi. Cock, you are a positive conjurer. Only give me the feather, and it shall not be long before Simon’s wealth shifts its quarters; I’ll slip in and make a clean sweep. His teeth shall tug148 leather again.
Cock. That must not be. I have my instructions from Hermes, and if my feather is put to any such purpose, I am to call out and expose the offender149.
Mi. Hermes, of all people, grudge150 a man a little thievery? I’ll not believe it of him. However, let us start; I promise not to touch the gold . . . if I can help it.
Cock. You must pluck out the feather first. . . . What’s this? You have taken both!
Mi. Better to be on the safe side. And it would look so bad to have one half of your tail gone and not the other.
Cock. Well. Where shall we go first? To Simon’s?
Mi. Yes, yes, Simon first. Simonides it is, nowadays; two syllables151 is not enough for him since he has come into money. . . . Here we are; what do I do next?
Cock. Apply the feather to the bolt.
Mi. So. Heracles! it might be a key; the door flies open.
Cock. Walk in; you go first. Do you see him? He is sitting up over his accounts.
Mi. See him! I should think I did. What a light! That lamp wants a drink. And what makes Simon so pale? He is shrivelled up to nothing. That comes of his worries; there is nothing else the matter with him, that I have heard of.
Cock. Listen, and you will understand.
Si. That seventeen thousand in the hole under my bed is safe enough; not a soul saw me that time. But I believe Sosylus caught me hiding the four thousand under the manger: he is not the most industrious152 of grooms153, he was never too fond of work; but he lives in that stable now. And I expect that is not all that has gone, by a long way. What was Tibius doing with those fine great kippers yesterday? And they tell me he paid no less a sum than four shillings for a pair of earrings154 for his wife. God help me, it’s my money they’re flinging about. I’m not easy about all that plate either: what if some one should knock a hole in the wall, and make off with it? Many is the one that envies me, and has an eye on my gold; my neighbour Micyllus is as bad as any of them.
Mi. Hear, hear! He is as bad as Simon; he walks off with other people’s pudding-basins under his arm.
Cock. Hush10! we shall be caught.
Si. There’s nothing like sitting up, and having everything under one’s own eye. I’ll jump up and go my rounds. . . . You there! you burglar! I see you. . . . Ah, it is but a post; all is well. I’ll pull up the gold and count it again; I may have missed something just now. . . . Hark! a step! I knew it; he is upon me! I am beset155 with enemies. The world conspires156 against me. Where is my dagger157? Only let me catch . . . — I’ll put the gold back.
Cock. There: now you have seen Simon at home. Let us go on to another house, while there is still some of the night left.
Mi. The worm! what a life! I wish all my enemies such wealth as his. I’ll just lend him a box on the ear, and then I am ready.
Si. Who was that? Some one struck me! Ah! I am robbed!
Mi. Whine158 away, Simon, and sit up of nights till you are as yellow as the gold you clutch. — I should like to go to Gniphon the usurer’s next; it is quite close. . . . Again the door opens to us.
Cock. He is sitting up too, look. It is an anxious time with him; he is reckoning his interest. His fingers are worn to the bone. Presently he will have to leave all this, and become a cockroach159, or a gnat, or a bluebottle.
Mi. Senseless brute! it will hardly be a change for the worse. He, like Simon, is pretty well thinned down by his calculations. Let us try some one else.
Cock. What about your friend Eucrates? See, the door stands open; let us go in.
Mi. An hour ago, all this was mine!
Cock. Still the golden dream! — Look at the hoary160 old reprobate161: with one of his own slaves!
Mi. Monstrous162! And his wife is not much better; she takes her paramour from the kitchen.
Cock. Well? Is the inheritance to your liking? Will you have it all?
Mi. I will starve first. Good-bye to gold and high living. Preserve me from my own servants, and I will call myself rich on twopence-halfpenny.
Cock. Well, well, we must be getting home; see, it is just dawn. The rest must wait for another day.
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收听单词发音
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1
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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2
crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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3
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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7
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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8
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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14
portent
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| n.预兆；恶兆；怪事 | |
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portents
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| n.预兆( portent的名词复数 )；征兆；怪事；奇物 | |
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16
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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17
portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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18
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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19
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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20
spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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21
foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
invoke
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| v.求助于(神、法律)；恳求，乞求 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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25
loquacious
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| adj.多嘴的，饶舌的 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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29
revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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30
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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32
quack
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| n.庸医；江湖医生；冒充内行的人；骗子 | |
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33
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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35
humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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36
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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38
heresy
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| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
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39
abstained
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| v.戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 )；弃权（不投票） | |
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40
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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41
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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42
tickle
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| v.搔痒，胳肢；使高兴；发痒；n.搔痒，发痒 | |
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43
tickles
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| （使）发痒( tickle的第三人称单数 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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44
circumscribed
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| adj.[医]局限的：受限制或限于有限空间的v.在…周围划线( circumscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；划定…范围；限制；限定 | |
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45
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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46
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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47
transformations
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| n.变化( transformation的名词复数 )；转换；转换；变换 | |
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48
babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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49
pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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50
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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51
crates
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| n. 板条箱, 篓子, 旧汽车 vt. 装进纸条箱 | |
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52
ambrosial
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| adj.美味的 | |
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53
saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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54
discredit
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| vt.使不可置信；n.丧失信义；不信，怀疑 | |
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55
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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56
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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57
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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58
ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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59
glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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60
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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63
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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64
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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65
infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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66
craftsman
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| n.技工，精于一门工艺的匠人 | |
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67
plundered
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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69
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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70
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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71
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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72
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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73
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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74
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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75
expiated
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| v.为（所犯罪过）接受惩罚，赎（罪）( expiate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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77
divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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78
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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79
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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80
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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81
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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82
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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83
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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84
lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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85
originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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86
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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87
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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88
disciples
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| n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 )；门徒；耶稣的信徒；（尤指）耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
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89
versatility
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| n.多才多艺，多样性，多功能 | |
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90
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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91
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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92
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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93
gibes
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| vi.嘲笑，嘲弄（gibe的第三人称单数形式） | |
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94
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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95
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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96
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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97
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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98
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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99
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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100
ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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101
levied
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| 征（兵）( levy的过去式和过去分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
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102
encumbrance
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| n.妨碍物，累赘 | |
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103
festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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104
crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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105
propitiate
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| v.慰解，劝解 | |
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106
censor
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| n./vt.审查，审查员；删改 | |
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107
condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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108
confiscate
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| v.没收(私人财产)，把…充公 | |
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109
rascally
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| adj. 无赖的，恶棍的 adv. 无赖地，卑鄙地 | |
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110
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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111
wrangle
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| vi.争吵 | |
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112
hardiness
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| n.耐劳性，强壮；勇气，胆子 | |
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113
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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114
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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115
intemperance
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| n.放纵 | |
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116
pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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117
eschew
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| v.避开，戒绝 | |
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118
shipwrecks
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| 海难，船只失事( shipwreck的名词复数 )； 沉船 | |
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119
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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120
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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121
enthusiasts
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| n.热心人，热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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122
colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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123
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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124
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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125
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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126
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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127
lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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128
simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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129
resentments
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| （因受虐待而）愤恨，不满，怨恨( resentment的名词复数 ) | |
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130
conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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131
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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132
fiscal
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| adj.财政的，会计的，国库的，国库岁入的 | |
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133
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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134
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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135
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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136
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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137
hemlock
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| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
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138
diadem
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| n.王冠，冕 | |
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139
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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140
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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141
coxcomb
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| n.花花公子 | |
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142
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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143
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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144
litigant
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| n.诉讼当事人；adj.进行诉讼的 | |
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145
gnat
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| v.对小事斤斤计较，琐事 | |
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146
pander
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| v.迎合；n.拉皮条者，勾引者；帮人做坏事的人 | |
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147
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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148
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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149
offender
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| n.冒犯者，违反者，犯罪者 | |
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150
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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151
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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152
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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153
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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154
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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155
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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156
conspires
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| 密谋( conspire的第三人称单数 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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157
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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158
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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159
cockroach
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| n.蟑螂 | |
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160
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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161
reprobate
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| n.无赖汉；堕落的人 | |
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162
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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