TIMON But the Acropolis has not been burned, you scoundrel, so it is plain that you are a blackmailer.

DEMEAS Well, you got your money by breaking into the treasury.

TIMON That has not been broken into, so you can’t make good with that charge either. -

DEMEAS The breaking in will be done later, but you have all the contents now.

TIMON Well then, take that!

DEMEAS Oh, my back!

TIMON Don’t shriek or I will give you a third. It would be too ridiculous if I had cut up two divisions of Spartans unarmed and then couldn’t thrash a single filthy little creature like you. My victory at Olympia in boxing and wrestling would be all for nothing!

But what have we here? Isn’t this Thrasyc yeles? No other! With his beard spread out and his eyebrows uplifted, he marches along deep in haughty meditation, his eyes glaring like a Titan’s and his hair tossed back from his forehead, a typical Boreas or Triton such as Zeuxis used to paint. Correct in his demeanour, gentlemanly in his gait, and inconspicuous in his dress, in the morning hours he discourses forever about virtue, arraigns s the votaries of pleasure and praises contentment with little; but when he comes to dinner after his bath and the waiter hands him a large cup (and the stiffer it is, the better he likes it) then it is as if he had drunk the water of Lethe, for his practice is directly opposed to his preaching of the morning. He snatches the meat away from others like a kite, elbows his neighbour, covers his beard with gravy, bolts his food like a dog, bends over his plate as if he expected to find virtue in it, carefully wipes out the dishes with his forefinger so as not to leave a particle of the sauce, and grumbles continually, even if he gets the whole cake or the whole boar to himself.

He is the height of gluttony and insatiability, and he gets so drunken and riotous that he not only sings and dances, but even abuses people and flies into a passion. Besides he has much to say over his cup—more then than at any other time, in fact!—about temperance and decorum, and he says all this when he is already in a bad way from taking his wine without water and stammers ridiculously. Then a vomit follows, and at last he is picked up and carried out of the diningroom, catching at the flute girl with both hands as he goes. But even when sober, he won’t yield the palm to anyone in lying and impudence and covetousness; on the contrary, he is a peerless toady and he perjures himself with the greatest facility; humbug is his guide and shamelessness his follower, and to sum it up, he is a wonderfully clever piece of work, correct in every detail and perfect in a world of ways. Therefore he shall soon smart for;his superiority. (To Thrasycles): Well, well! I say, Thrasycles, you are late.