_Nireus. Thersites. Menippus_
_Ni_. Here we are; Menippus shall award the palm of beauty. Menippus,
am I not better-looking than he?
_Me_. Well, who are you? I must know that first, mustn't I?
_Ni_. Nireus and Thersites.
_Me_. Which is which? I cannot tell that yet.
_Ther_. One to me; I am like you; you have no such superiority as Homer
(blind, by the way) gave you when he called you the handsomest of men;
he might peak my head and thin my hair, our judge finds me none the
worse. Now, Menippus, make up your mind which is handsomer.
_Ni_. I, of course, I, the son of Aglaia and Charopus,
Comeliest of all that came 'neath Trojan walls.
_Me_. But not comeliest of all that come 'neath the earth, as far as I
know. Your bones are much like other people's; and the only difference
between your two skulls is that yours would not take much to stove it
in. It is a tender article, something short of masculine.
_Ni_. Ask Homer what I was, when I sailed with the Achaeans.
_Me_. Dreams, dreams. I am looking at what you are; what you were is
ancient history.
_Ni_. Am I not handsomer here, Menippus?
_Me_. You are not handsome at all, nor any one else either. Hades is a
democracy; one man is as good as another here.
_Ther_. And a very tolerable arrangement too, if you ask me.