METON I have come to you...
PITHETAERUS (interrupting) Yet another pest! What have you come
to do? What's your plan? What's the purpose of your journey? Why these
splendid buskins?
METON I want to survey the plains of the air for you and to parcel
them into lots.
PITHETAERUS In the name of the gods, who are you?
METON Who am I? Meton, known throughout Greece and at Colonus.
PITHETAERUS What are these things?
METON Tools for measuring the air. In truth, the spaces in the air
have precisely the form of a furnace. With this bent ruler I draw
a line from top to bottom; from one of its points I describe a circle
with the compass. Do you understand?
PITHETAERUS Not in the least.
METON With the straight ruler I set to work to inscribe a square
within this circle; in its centre will be the market-place, into which
all the straight streets will lead, converging to this centre like
a star, which, although only orbicular, sends forth its rays in a
straight line from all sides.
PITHETAERUS A regular Thales! Meton...
METON What d'you want with me?
PITHETAERUS I want to give you a proof of my friendship. Use your
legs.
METON Why, what have I to fear?
PITHETAERUS It's the same here as in Sparta. Strangers are driven
away, and blows rain down as thick as hail.
METON Is there sedition in your city?
PITHETAERUS No, certainly not.
METON What's wrong then?
PITHETAERUS We are agreed to sweep all quacks and impostors far from
our borders.
METON Then I'll be going.
PITHETAERUS I'm afraid it's too late. The thunder growls already.
(He beats him.)
METON Oh, woe! oh, woe!
PITHETAERUS I warned you. Now, be off, and do your surveying somewhere
else. (METON takes to his heels. He is no sooner gone than an INSPECTOR
arrives.)