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Let us drive away these men of the city who used  to stay at home and  chatter round the table in the days when only an obolus was paid, whereas now one is stifled by the crowds at the Pnyx. No! during the archonship of generous Myronides, none would have dared  to let himself be paid for the trouble he spent over public business; each one brought his own meal of bread, a couple of onions, three olives  and some wine in a little wine-skin. But nowadays we run here to earn the three obols, for the citizen has become as mercenary  as the stonemason.