Kitap 6
6
And Diphilus says in his Busybody— I used to think the race of fishmongers Was only insolent in Attica; But now I see that like wild beasts they are Savage by nature, everywhere the same. But here is one who goes beyond his fellows, Nourishing flowing hair, which he doth call Devoted to his god-though that is not the reason, But he doth use it as a veil to hide The brand which marks his forehead. Should you ask him, What is this pike's price? he will tell you tenpence; Not say what pence he means; then if you give him The money, he will claim Aegina's coinage; While if you ask for change, he'll give you Attic. And thus he makes a profit on both sides. And Xenarchus says in his Purple— Poets are nonsense; for they never say A single thing that's new. But all they do Is to clothe old ideas in language new, Turning the same things o'er and o'er again, And upside down. But as to fishmongers, They're an inventive race, and yield to none In shameless conduct. For as modern laws Forbid them now to water their stale fish, Some fellow, hated by the gods, beholding His fish quite dry, picks with his mates a quarrel, And blows are interchanged. Then when one thinks He's had enough, he falls, and seems to faint, And lies like any corpse among his baskets. Some one calls out for water; and his partner Catches a pail, and throws it o'er his friend So as to sprinkle all his fish, and make The world believe them newly caught and fresh.
