Mer. But I can cheat—
Car. On no account—for shame!
We well-to-do folks all go in for honesty.
Mer. Let me be Guide, then.
Car. Nay, our god ship here
Has got his sight again, and needs no guiding.
Mer. Well, Master of the revels? don't say no—
Wealth must have pleasures,—music, and all that.
Car. (ironically turning to the audience). Why, what a
lucky thing it is to be Jack-of-all-trades!
Here's a young man, now, who's sure to make a living!
(To Mercury.) Well—go and wash these tripes,—be quick—let's see
What sort of training servants get in heaven.
If the gods are suffering from this social revolution in the world below, still more lamentable are its effects upon the staff of officials maintained in their temples. The priest of Jupiter the Protector—one of the most important ecclesiastical functionaries in Athens—enters in great distress.
Priest. Be good enough to tell me, where is Chremylus?
Chr. (coming out). What is it, my good sir?
Priest. What is it?—ruin!
Why, since this Plutus has begun to see,
I'm dying of starvation. Positively,
I haven't a crust to eat! I, my dear sir,
The Priest of the Protector! think of that!
Chr. Dear me! and what's the reason, may I ask?
Priest. Why, because everybody now is rich:
Before, if times were bad, there still would come
Some merchant-captain home from time to time,
And bring us thank-offerings for escape from wreck;
Some lucky rogue, perhaps, who had got a verdict;
Or some good man held a family sacrifice,
