I think and think—I don't know what to think.
I draw conclusions and comparisons,
I ponder, I reflect, I pick my nose,
I make a stink—I make a metaphor,
I fidget about, and yawn and scratch myself;
Looking in vain to the prospect of the fields,
Loathing the city, longing for a peace,
To return to my poor village and my farm, 40
That never used to cry, "Come buy my charcoal!"
Nor, "Buy my oil!" nor "Buy my anything!"
But gave me what I wanted, freely and fairly,
Clear of all cost, with never a word of buying,
Or such buy-words. So here I'm come, resolved
To bawl, to abuse, to interrupt the speakers,
Whenever I hear a word of any kind
Except for an immediate peace. Ah there!
The presidents at last; see, there they come!
All scrambling for their seats—I told you so! 50
Herald. Move forward there! Move forward all of ye
Further! within the consecrated ground.
Amphitheus. Has anybody spoke?
Her. Is anybody
Prepared to speak?
Amp. Yes, I.
Her. Who are you and what?
Amp. Amphitheus the Demigod.
Her. Not a Man?
Amp. No, I'm immortal; for the first Amphitheus
Was born of Ceres and Triptolemus,
His only son was Keleüs, Keleüs married
Phænarete my grandmother, Lykinus
My father was their son; that's proof enough 60
Of the immortality in our family.
The Gods moreover have dispatched me here
Commissioned specially to arrange a peace
Betwixt this City and Sparta—notwithstanding
I find myself rather in want at present
Of a little ready money for my journey.
The Magistrates won't assist me.
Her. Constables!
Amp. Ο Keleüs and Triptolemus, don't forsake me!
