Cleon: Get out of here, away to the blessed island.
Sausage-seller: But you, oh ruin!
Cleon: O Demos, I, for my part, am ready.
Cleon: I sit here three times old, wishing to do you a favor.
Sausage-seller: As for me, I have ten hands and twelve hands.
Sausage-Seller: And very old, and extremely old, and super-duper old.
1155
Demos: But as for me, I was expecting for three years.
Demus: I loathe you both, and have loathed you for a very, very long time.
Sausage-Seller: Do you know then what to do?
Demos: if not, then at least explain yourself.
Sausage-seller: Let go of me and this fellow from the bellows,
Sausage-Seller: So that we may treat you well on an equal footing.
1160
Demos: I must do these things.
Cleon and the Sausage-seller: Behold.
Demos: May the gods wish it.
Sausage-Seller: I won't let you do it.
Demus: but shall I be greatly happy today
Demos: By Zeus, either I will be crushed by the lovers or [something else implied, but strictly: I will be crushed by the lovers].
Cleon: Do you see? I bring out a chair first for you.
Sausage-Seller: But not a table, but rather I am the more senior.
1165
Cleon: Look, I bring you this little loaf.
Cleon: [It is] mixed from the olives from Pylos.
Sausage-seller: But I [have] pickled pickled pickled things.
Sausage-seller: by the hand of the goddess, the ivory one.
Demos: Indeed, mistress, you had a large finger.
1170
Cleon: I, however, am a dark-skinned, handsome, and good man;
Cleon: Then again, Pallas, the spear-bearer, sharpened it.
Sausage-seller: Oh Demeas, the goddess is watching you clearly,
Sausage-seller: And now he surpasses you in having a full pot of broth.
Demus: For do you think that this city would still be inhabited,
1175
Demos: if it did not openly hold over us the pot?
Cleon: This piece Phobesistratos gave you.
Sausage-seller: And the Obri-mopatra has boiled meat from the broth.
Sausage-seller: And he is a cholick-greedy man and a belly-greedy man.
Demos: She has done well in remembering the robe.
1180
Cleon: Gorgolophos ordered you to eat this.
Cleon: a steersman, so that we may steer the ships well.
Sausage-seller: Take this too, now.
Demos: And what shall I do with these men?
Sausage-seller: He sent it to you on purpose.
Sausage-seller: May the goddess be a bowel-woman for the triremes.
1185
Sausage-Seller: for he is inspecting the navy conspicuously.
Sausage-seller: Take it and drink it, mixed, for three and two.
Demus: Oh how sweet, Zeus, and bringing the three things well.
Sausage-seller: for the Tritogeneia [Athena] made him a third-rate man.
Cleon: Now take a slice of rich cake from me.
1190