CLEON. I am ready.
DEMOS. Off you go!
SAUSAGE-SELLER (to Cleon). I shall not let you get to the tape.
DEMOS. What fervent lovers! If I am not to-day the happiest of men, 'tis because I shall be the most disgusted.
CLEON. Look! 'tis I who am the first to bring you a seat.
SAUSAGE-SELLER. And I a table.
CLEON. Hold, here is a cake kneaded of Pylos barley.[127]
SAUSAGE—SELLER. Here are crusts, which the ivory hand of the goddess has hallowed.[128]
DEMOS. Oh! Mighty Athené! How large are your fingers!
CLEON. This is pea-soup, as exquisite as it is fine; 'tis Pallas the victorious goddess at Pylos who crushed the peas herself.