 |
DICAEOPOLIS. It has no tail.[234]
MEGARIAN. Because it is quite young, but in good time it will have a big one, thick and red.
DICAEOPOLIS. The two are as like as two peas.
MEGARIAN. They are born of the same father and mother; let them be fattened, let them grow their bristles, and they will be the finest sows you can offer to Aphrodit.
DICAEOPOLIS. But sows are not immolated to Aphrodit.
MEGARIAN. Not sows to Aphrodit! Why, 'tis the only goddess to whom they are offered! the flesh of my sows will be excellent on the spit.
DICAEOPOLIS. Can they eat alone? They no longer need their mother!
MEGARIAN. Certainly not, nor their father.
DICAEOPOLIS. What do they like most?
MEGARIAN. Whatever is given them; but ask for yourself.
DICAEOPOLIS. Speak! little sow.
DAUGHTER. Wee-wee, wee-wee!
DICAEOPOLIS. Can you eat chick-pease?[235]
DAUGHTER. Wee-wee, wee-wee, wee-wee!
DICAEOPOLIS. And Attic figs?
DAUGHTER. Wee-wee, wee-wee!
DICAEOPOLIS. What sharp squeaks at the name of figs. Come, let some figs be brought for these little pigs. Will they eat them? Goodness! how they munch them, what a grinding of teeth, mighty Heracles! I believe those pigs hail from the land of the Voracians. But surely, 'tis impossible they have bolted all the figs!
MEGARIAN. Yes, certainly, bar this one that I took from them.
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! what funny creatures! For what sum will you sell them?
MEGARIAN. I will give you one for a bunch of garlic, and the other, if you like, for a quart measure of salt.
DICAEOPOLIS. I buy them of you. Wait for me here.
MEGARIAN. The deal is done. Hermes, god of good traders, grant I may sell both my wife and my mother in the same way!
AN INFORMER. Hi! fellow, what countryman are you?
MEGARIAN. I am a pig-merchant from Megara.
INFORMER. I shall denounce both your pigs and yourself as public enemies.
MEGARIAN. Ah! here our troubles begin afresh!
INFORMER. Let go that sack. I will punish your Megarian lingo.[236]
MEGARIAN. Dicaeopolis, Dicaeopolis, they want to denounce me.
DICAEOPOLIS. Who dares do this thing? Inspectors, drive out the Informers. Ah! you offer to enlighten us without a lamp![237]
INFORMER. What! I may not denounce our enemies?
DICAEOPOLIS. Have a care for yourself, if you don't go off pretty quick to denounce elsewhere.
MEGARIAN. What a plague to Athens!
DICAEOPOLIS. Be reassured, Megarian. Here is the value of your two swine, the garlic and the salt. Farewell and much happiness!
MEGARIAN. Ah! we never have that amongst us.
DICAEOPOLIS. Well! may the inopportune wish apply to myself.
MEGARIAN. Farewell, dear little sows, and seek, far from your father, to munch your bread with salt, if they give you any.
CHORUS. Here is a man truly happy. See how everything succeeds to his wish. Peacefully seated in his market, he will earn his living; woe to Ctesias,[238] and all other informers, who dare to enter there! You will not be cheated as to the value of wares, you will not again see Prepis[239] wiping his foul rump, nor will Cleonymus[240] jostle you; you will take your walks, clothed in a fine tunic, without meeting Hyperbolus[241] and his unceasing quibblings, without being accosted on the public place by any importunate fellow, neither by Cratinus,[242] shaven in the fashion of the debauchees, nor by this musician, who plagues us with his silly improvisations, Artemo, with his arm-pits stinking as foul as a goat, like his father before him. You will not be the butt of the villainous Pauson's[243] jeers, nor of Lysistratus,[244] the disgrace of the Cholargian deme, who is the incarnation of all the vices, and endures cold and hunger more than thirty days in the month.
A BOEOTIAN. By Heracles! my shoulder is quite black and blue. Ismenias, put the penny-royal down there very gently, and all of you, musicians from Thebes, pipe with your bone flutes into a dog's rump.[245]
DICAEOPOLIS. Enough, enough, get you gone. Rascally hornets, away with you! Whence has sprung this accursed swarm of Cheris[246] fellows which comes assailing my door?
BOEOTIAN. Ah! by Iolas![247] Drive them off, my dear host, you will please me immensely; all the way from Thebes, they were there piping behind me and have completely stripped my penny-royal of its blossom. But will you buy anything of me, some chickens or some locusts?
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! good day, Boeotian, eater of good round loaves.[248] What do you bring?
BOEOTIAN. All that is good in Boeotia, marjoram, penny-royal, rush-mats, lamp-wicks, ducks, jays, woodcocks, waterfowl, wrens, divers.
DICAEOPOLIS. 'Tis a very hail of birds that beats down on my market.
BOEOTIAN. I also bring geese, hares, foxes, moles, hedgehogs, cats, lyres, martins, otters and eels from the Copaic lake.[249]
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! my friend, you, who bring me the most delicious of fish, let me salute your eels.
BOEOTIAN. Come, thou, the eldest of my fifty Copaic virgins, come and complete the joy of our host.
DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! my well-beloved, thou object of my long regrets, thou art here at last then, thou, after whom the comic poets sigh, thou, who art dear to Morychus.[250] Slaves, hither with the stove and the bellows. Look at this charming eel, that returns to us after six long years of absence.[251] Salute it, my children; as for myself, I will supply coal to do honour to the stranger. Take it into my house; death itself could not separate me from her, if cooked with beet leaves.
BOEOTIAN. And what will you give me in return?
DICAEOPOLIS. It will pay for your market dues. And as to the rest, what do you wish to sell me?
BOEOTIAN. Why, everything.
DICAEOPOLIS. On what terms? For ready-money or in wares from these parts?
BOEOTIAN. I would take some Athenian produce, that we have not got in Boeotia.
DICAEOPOLIS. Phaleric anchovies, pottery?
BOEOTIAN. Anchovies, pottery? But these we have. I want produce that is wanting with us and that is plentiful here.
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! I have the very thing; take away an Informer, packed up carefully as crockery-ware.
BOEOTIAN. By the twin gods! I should earn big money, if I took one; I would exhibit him as an ape full of spite.
DICAEOPOLIS. Hah! here we have Nicarchus,[252] who comes to denounce you.
BOEOTIAN. How small he is!
DICAEOPOLIS. But in his case the whole is one mass of ill-nature.
NICARCHUS. Whose are these goods?
DICAEOPOLIS. Mine; they come from Boeotia, I call Zeus to witness.
NICARCHUS. I denounce them as coming from an enemy's country.
BOEOTIAN. What! you declare war against birds?
NICARCHUS. And I am going to denounce you too.
BOEOTIAN. What harm have I done you?
NICARCHUS. I will say it for the benefit of those that listen; you introduce lamp-wicks from an enemy's country.
DICAEOPOLIS. Then you go as far as denouncing a wick.
NICARCHUS. It needs but one to set an arsenal afire.
DICAEOPOLIS. A wick set an arsenal ablaze! But how, great gods?
NICARCHUS. Should a Boeotian attach it to an insect's wing, and, taking advantage of a violent north wind, throw it by means of a tube into the arsenal and the fire once get hold of the vessels, everything would soon be devoured by the flames.
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! wretch! an insect and a wick would devour everything. (He strikes him.)
NICARCHUS (to the Chorus). You will bear witness, that he mishandles me.
DICAEOPOLIS. Shut his mouth. Give him some hay; I am going to pack him up as a vase, that he may not get broken on the road.
CHORUS. Pack up your goods carefully, friend; that the stranger may not break it when taking it away.
DICAEOPOLIS. I shall take great care with it, for one would say he is cracked already; he rings with a false note, which the gods abhor.
CHORUS. But what will be done with him?
DICAEOPOLIS. This is a vase good for all purposes; it will be used as a vessel for holding all foul things, a mortar for pounding together law-suits, a lamp for spying upon accounts, and as a cup for the mixing up and poisoning of everything.
CHORUS. None could ever trust a vessel for domestic use that has such a ring about it.
DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! it is strong, my friend, and will never get broken, if care is taken to hang it head downwards.
CHORUS. There! it is well packed now!
BOEOTIAN. Marry, I will proceed to carry off my bundle.
CHORUS. Farewell, worthiest of strangers, take this Informer, good for anything, and fling him where you like.
DICAEOPOLIS. Bah! this rogue has given me enough trouble to pack! Here! Boeotian, pick up your pottery.
BOEOTIAN. Stoop, Ismenias, that I may put it on your shoulder, and be very careful with it.
DICAEOPOLIS. You carry nothing worth having; however, take it, for you will profit by your bargain; the Informers will bring you luck.
A SERVANT OF LAMACHUS. Dicaeopolis!
DICAEOPOLIS. What do want crying this gait?
SERVANT. Lamachus wants to keep the Feast of Cups,[253] and I come by his order to bid you one drachma for some thrushes and three more for a Copaic eel.
DICAEOPOLIS. And who is this Lamachus, who demands an eel?
SERVANT. 'Tis the terrible, indefatigable Lamachus, he, who is always brandishing his fearful Gorgon's head and the three plumes which o'ershadow his helmet.
DICAEOPOLIS. No, no, he will get nothing, even though he gave me his buckler. Let him eat salt fish, while he shakes his plumes, and, if he comes here making any din, I shall call the inspectors. As for myself, I shall take away all these goods; I go home on thrushes' wings and blackbirds' pinions.[254]
CHORUS. You see, citizens, you see the good fortune which this man owes to his prudence, to his profound wisdom. You see how, since he has concluded peace, he buys what is useful in the household and good to eat hot. All good things flow towards him unsought. Never will I welcome the god of war in my house; never shall he chant the 'Harmodius' at my table;[255] he is a sot, who comes feasting with those who are overflowing with good things and brings all sorts of mischief at his heels. He overthrows, ruins, rips open; 'tis vain to make him a thousand offers, "be seated, pray, drink this cup, proffered in all friendship," he burns our vine-stocks and brutally pours out the wine from our vineyards on the ground. This man, on the other hand, covers his table with a thousand dishes; proud of his good fortunes, he has had these feathers cast before his door to show us how he lives.
DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! Peace! companion of fair Aphrodit and of the sweet Graces, how charming are your features and yet I never knew it! Would that Eros might join me to thee, Eros, crowned with roses as Zeuxis[256] shows him to us! Perhaps I seem somewhat old to you, but I am yet able to make you a threefold offering; despite my age, I could plant a long row of vines for you; then beside these some tender cuttings from the fig; finally a young vine-stock, loaded with fruit and all round the field olive trees, which would furnish us with oil, wherewith to anoint us both at the New Moons.
HERALD. List, ye people! As was the custom of your forebears, empty a full pitcher of wine at the call of the trumpet; he, who first sees the bottom, shall get a wine-skin as round and plump as Ctesiphon's belly.
DICAEOPOLIS. Women, children, have you not heard? Faith! do you not heed the herald? Quick! let the hares boil and roast merrily; keep them a-turning; withdraw them from the flame; prepare the chaplets; reach me the skewers that I may spit the thrushes.
CHORUS. I envy you your wisdom and even more your good cheer.
DICAEOPOLIS. What then will you say when you see the thrushes roasting?
CHORUS. Ah! true indeed!
DICAEOPOLIS. Slave! stir up the fire.
CHORUS. See, how he knows his business, what a perfect cook! How well he understands the way to prepare a good dinner!
A HUSBANDMAN. Ah! woe is me!
DICAEOPOLIS. Heracles! What have we here?
HUSBANDMAN. A most miserable man.
DICAEOPOLIS. Keep your misery for yourself.
HUSBANDMAN. Ah! friend! since you alone are enjoying peace, grant me a part of your truce, were it but five years.
DICAEOPOLIS. What has happened to you?
HUSBANDMAN. I am ruined; I have lost a pair of steers.
DICAEOPOLIS. How?
HUSBANDMAN. The Boeotians seized them at Phyl.[257]
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! poor wretch! and yet you have not left off white?
HUSBANDMAN. Their dung made my wealth.
DICAEOPOLIS. What can I do in the matter?
HUSBANDMAN. Crying for my beasts has lost me my eyesight. Ah! if you care for poor Dercetes of Phyl, anoint mine eyes quickly with your balm of peace.
DICAEOPOLIS. But, my poor fellow, I do not practise medicine.
HUSBANDMAN. Come, I adjure you; perchance I shall recover my steers.
DICAEOPOLIS. 'Tis impossible; away, go and whine to the disciples of Pittalus.[258]
HUSBANDMAN. Grant me but one drop of peace; pour it into this reedlet.
DICAEOPOLIS. No, not a particle; go a-weeping elsewhere.
HUSBANDMAN. Oh! oh! oh! my poor beasts!
CHORUS. This man has discovered the sweetest enjoyment in peace; he will share it with none.
DICAEOPOLIS. Pour honey over this tripe; set it before the fire to dry.
CHORUS. What lofty tones he uses! Did you hear him?
DICAEOPOLIS. Get the eels on the gridiron!
CHORUS. You are killing me with hunger; your smoke is choking your neighbours, and you split our ears with your bawling.
DICAEOPOLIS. Have this fried and let it be nicely browned.
A BRIDESMAID. Dicaeopolis! Dicaeopolis!
DICAEOPOLIS. Who are you?
BRIDESMAID. A young bridegroom sends you these viands from the marriage feast.
DICAEOPOLIS. Whoever he be, I thank him.
BRIDESMAID. And in return, he prays you to pour a glass of peace into this vase, that he may not have to go to the front and may stay at home to do his duty to his young wife.
DICAEOPOLIS. Take back, take back your viands; for a thousand drachmae I would not give a drop of peace; but who are you, pray?
BRIDESMAID. I am the bridesmaid; she wants to say something to you from the bride privately.
DICAEOPOLIS. Come, what do you wish to say? (The bridesmaid whispers in his ear.) Ah! what a ridiculous demand! The bride burns with longing to keep by her her husband's weapon. Come! bring hither my truce; to her alone will I give some of it, for she is a woman, and, as such, should not suffer under the war. Here, friend, reach hither your vial. And as to the manner of applying this balm, tell the bride, when a levy of soldiers is made to rub some in bed on her husband, where most needed. There, slave, take away my truce! Now, quick hither with the wine-flagon, that I may fill up the drinking bowls!
CHORUS. I see a man, striding along apace, with knitted brows; he seems to us the bearer of terrible tidings.
HERALD. Oh! toils and battles! 'tis Lamachus!
LAMACHUS. What noise resounds around my dwelling, where shines the glint of arms.
HERALD. The Generals order you forthwith to take your battalions and your plumes, and, despite the snow, to go and guard our borders. They have learnt that a band of Boeotians intend taking advantage of the feast of Cups to invade our country.
LAMACHUS. Ah! the Generals! they are numerous, but not good for much! It's cruel, not to be able to enjoy the feast!
DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! warlike host of Lamachus!
LAMACHUS. Wretch! do you dare to jeer me?
DICAEOPOLIS. Do you want to fight this four-winged Geryon?
LAMACHUS. Oh! oh! what fearful tidings!
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! ah! I see another herald running up; what news does he bring me?
HERALD. Dicaeopolis!
DICAEOPOLIS. What is the matter?
HERALD. Come quickly to the feast and bring your basket and your cup; 'tis the priest of Bacchus who invites you. But hasten, the guests have been waiting for you a long while. All is ready—couches, tables, cushions, chaplets, perfumes, dainties and courtesans to boot; biscuits, cakes, sesam-bread, tarts, and—lovely dancing women, the sweetest charm of the festivity. But come with all haste.
LAMACHUS. Oh! hostile gods!
DICAEOPOLIS. This is not astounding; you have chosen this huge, great ugly Gorgon's head for your patron. You, shut the door, and let someone get ready the meal.
LAMACHUS. Slave! slave! my knapsack!
DICAEOPOLIS. Slave! slave! a basket!
LAMACHUS. Take salt and thyme, slave, and don't forget the onions.
DICAEOPOLIS. Get some fish for me; I cannot bear onions.
LAMACHUS. Slave, wrap me up a little stale salt meat in a fig-leaf.
DICAEOPOLIS. And for me some good greasy tripe in a fig-leaf; I will have it cooked here.
LAMACHUS. Bring me the plumes for my helmet.
DICAEOPOLIS. Bring me wild pigeons and thrushes.
LAMACHUS. How white and beautiful are these ostrich feathers!
DICAEOPOLIS. How fat and well browned is the flesh of this wood-pigeon!
LAMACHUS. Bring me the case for my triple plume.
DICAEOPOLIS. Pass me over that dish of hare.
LAMACHUS. Oh! the moths have eaten the hair of my crest!
DICAEOPOLIS. I shall always eat hare before dinner.
LAMACHUS. Hi! friend! try not to scoff at my armour.
DICAEOPOLIS. Hi! friend! will you kindly not stare at my thrushes.
LAMACHUS. Hi! friend! will you kindly not address me.
DICAEOPOLIS. I do not address you; I am scolding my slave. Shall we wager and submit the matter to Lamachus, which of the two is the best to eat, a locust or a thrush?
LAMACHUS. Insolent hound!
DICAEOPOLIS. He much prefers the locusts.
LAMACHUS. Slave, unhook my spear and bring it to me.
DICAEOPOLIS. Slave, slave, take the sausage from the fire and bring it to me.
LAMACHUS. Come, let me draw my spear from its sheath. Hold it, slave, hold it tight.
DICAEOPOLIS. And you, slave, grip, grip well hold of the skewer.
LAMACHUS. Slave, the bracings for my shield.
DICAEOPOLIS. Pull the loaves out of the oven and bring me these bracings of my stomach.
LAMACHUS. My round buckler with the Gorgon's head.
DICAEOPOLIS. My round cheese-cake.
LAMACHUS. What clumsy wit!
DICAEOPOLIS. What delicious cheese-cake!
LAMACHUS. Pour oil on the buckler. Hah! hah! I can see an old man who will be accused of cowardice.
DICAEOPOLIS. Pour honey on the cake. Hah! hah! I can see an old man who makes Lamachus of the Gorgon's head weep with rage.
LAMACHUS. Slave, full war armour.
DICAEOPOLIS. Slave, my beaker; that is my armour.
LAMACHUS. With this I hold my ground with any foe.
DICAEOPOLIS. And I with this with any tosspot.
LAMACHUS. Fasten the strappings to the buckler; personally I shall carry the knapsack.
DICAEOPOLIS. Pack the dinner well into the basket; personally I shall carry the cloak.
LAMACHUS. Slave, take up the buckler and let's be off. It is snowing! Ah! 'tis a question of facing the winter.
DICAEOPOLIS. Take up the basket, 'tis a question of getting to the feast.
CHORUS. We wish you both joy on your journeys, which differ so much. One goes to mount guard and freeze, while the other will drink, crowned with flowers, and then sleep with a young beauty, who will rub his tool for him.
I say it freely; may Zeus confound Antimachus, the poet-historian, the son of Psacas! When Choregus at the Lenaea, alas! alas! he dismissed me dinnerless. May I see him devouring with his eyes a cuttle-fish, just served, well cooked, hot and properly salted; and the moment that he stretches his hand to help himself, may a dog seize it and run off with it. Such is my first wish. I also hope for him a misfortune at night. That returning all-fevered from horse practice, he may meet an Orestes,[259] mad with drink, who breaks open his head; that wishing to seize a stone, he, in the dark, may pick up a fresh stool, hurl his missile, miss aim and hit Cratinus.[260]
SLAVE OF LAMACHUS. Slaves of Lamachus! Water, water in a little pot! Make it warm, get ready cloths, cerate, greasy wool and bandages for his ankle. In leaping a ditch, the master has hurt himself against a stake; he has dislocated and twisted his ankle, broken his head by falling on a stone, while his Gorgon shot far away from his buckler. His mighty braggadocio plume rolled on the ground; at this sight he uttered these doleful words, "Radiant star, I gaze on thee for the last time; my eyes close to all light, I die." Having said this, he falls into the water, gets out again, meets some runaways and pursues the robbers with his spear at their backsides.[261] But here he comes, himself. Get the door open.
LAMACHUS. Oh! heavens! oh! heavens! What cruel pain! I faint, I tremble! Alas! I die! the foe's lance has struck me! But what would hurt me most would be for Dicaeopolis to see me wounded thus and laugh at my ill-fortune.
DICAEOPOLIS (enters with two courtesans). Oh! my gods! what bosoms! Hard as a quince! Come, my treasures, give me voluptuous kisses! Glue your lips to mine. Haha! I was the first to empty my cup.
LAMACHUS. Oh! cruel fate! how I suffer! accursed wounds!
DICAEOPOLIS. Hah! hah! hail! Knight Lamachus! (Embraces Lamachus.)
LAMACHUS. By the hostile gods! (Bites Dicaeopolis.)
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! great gods!
LAMACHUS. Why do you embrace me?
DICAEOPOLIS. And why do you bite me?
LAMACHUS. 'Twas a cruel score I was paying back!
DICAEOPOLIS. Scores are not evened at the feast of Cups!
LAMACHUS. Oh! Paean, Paean!
DICAEOPOLIS. But to-day is not the feast of Paean.
LAMACHUS. Oh! support my leg, do; ah! hold it tenderly, my friends!
DICAEOPOLIS. And you, my darlings, take hold of my tool both of you!
LAMACHUS. This blow with the stone makes me dizzy; my sight grows dim.
DICAEOPOLIS. For myself, I want to get to bed; I am bursting with lustfulness, I want to be fucking in the dark.
LAMACHUS. Carry me to the surgeon Pittalus.
DICAEOPOLIS. Take me to the judges. Where is the king of the feast? The wine-skin is mine!
LAMACHUS. That spear has pierced my bones; what torture I endure!
DICAEOPOLIS. You see this empty cup! I triumph! I triumph!
CHORUS. Old man, I come at your bidding! You triumph! you triumph!
DICAEOPOLIS. Again I have brimmed my cup with unmixed wine and drained it at a draught!
CHORUS. You triumph then, brave champion; thine is the wine-skin!
DICAEOPOLIS. Follow me, singing "Triumph! Triumph!"
CHORUS. Aye! we will sing of thee, thee and thy sacred wine-skin, and we all, as we follow thee, will repeat in thine honour, "Triumph, Triumph!"
* * * * *
FINIS OF "THE ACHARNIANS"
* * * * *
Footnotes:
[147] A name invented by Aristophanes and signifying 'a just citizen.'
[148] Cleon had received five talents from the islanders subject to Athens, on condition that he should get the tribute payable by them reduced; when informed of this transaction, the Knights compelled him to return the money.
[149] A hemistich borrowed from Euripides' 'Telephus.'
[150] The tragedies of Aeschylus continued to be played even after the poet's death, which occurred in 436 B.C., ten years before the production of the Acharnians.
[151] A tragic poet, whose pieces were so devoid of warmth and life that he was nicknamed [Greek: chi_on], i.e. _snow_.
[152] A bad musician, frequently ridiculed by Aristophanes; he played both the lyre and the flute.
[153] A lively and elevated method.
[154] A hill near the Acropolis, where the Assemblies were held.
[155] Several means were used to force citizens to attend the assemblies; the shops were closed; circulation was only permitted in those streets which led to the Pnyx; finally, a rope covered with vermilion was drawn round those who dallied in the Agora (the marketplace), and the late-comers, ear-marked by the imprint of the rope, were fined.
[156] Magistrates who, with the Archons and the Epistatae, shared the care of holding and directing the assemblies of the people; they were fifty in number.
[157] The Peloponnesian War had already, at the date of the representation of the 'Acharnians,' lasted five years, 431-426 B.C.; driven from their lands by the successive Lacedaemonian invasions, the people throughout the country had been compelled to seek shelter behind the walls of Athens.
[158] Shortly before the meeting of the Assembly, a number of young pigs were immolated and a few drops of their blood were sprinkled on the seats of the Prytanes; this sacrifice was in honour of Ceres.
[159] The name, Amphitheus, contains the word, [Greek: Theos], god.
[160] Amongst other duties, it was the office of the Prytanes to look after the wants of the poor.
[161] The summer residence of the Great King.
[162] Referring to the hardships he had endured garrisoning the walls of Athens during the Lacedaemonian invasions early in the War.
[163] Cranaus, the second king of Athens, the successor of Cecrops.
[164] Lucian, in his 'Hermotimus,' speaks of these golden mountains as an apocryphal land of wonders and prodigies.
[165] Cleonymus was an Athenian general of exceptionally tall stature; Aristophanes incessantly rallies him for his cowardice; he had cast away his buckler in a fight.
[166] A name borne by certain officials of the King of Persia. The actor of this part wore a mask, fitted with a single eye of great size.
[167] Jargon, no doubt meaningless in all languages.
[168] The Persians styled all Greeks 'Ionians' without distinction; here the Athenians are intended.
[169] A Greek measure, containing about six modii.
[170] Noted for his extreme ugliness and his obscenity. Aristophanes frequently holds him to scorn in his comedies.
[171] Ambassadors were entertained there at the public expense.
[172] King of Thrace.
[173] The tragic poet.
[174] A feast lasting three days and celebrated during the month Pyanepsion (November). The Greek word contains the suggestion of fraud ([Greek: apat_e]).
[175] A Thracian tribe from the right bank of the Strymon.
[176] The Boeotians were the allies of Sparta.
[177] Dicaeopolis had brought a clove of garlic with him to eat during the Assembly.
[178] Garlic was given to game-cocks, before setting them at each other, to give them pluck for the fight.
[179] At the least unfavourable omen, the sitting of the Assembly was declared at an end.
[180] The deme of Acharnae was largely inhabited by charcoal-burners, who supplied the city with fuel.
[181] He presents them in the form of wines contained in three separate skins.
[182] Meaning, preparations for war.
[183] Meaning, securing allies for the continuance of the war.
[184] When Athens sent forth an army, the soldiers were usually ordered to assemble at some particular spot with provisions for three days.
[185] These feasts were also called the Anthesteria or Lenaea; the Lenaeum was a temple to Bacchus, erected outside the city. They took place during the month Anthesterion (February).
[186] A celebrated athlete from Croton and a victor at Olympia; he was equally good as a runner and at the 'five exercises' ([Greek: pentathlon.]).
[187] He had been Archon at the time of the battle of Marathon.
[188] A sacred formula, pronounced by the priest before offering the sacrifice ([Greek: kan_ephoria]).
[189] The maiden who carried the basket filled with fruits at the Dionysia in honour of Bacchus.
[190] The emblem of the fecundity of nature; it consisted of a representation, generally grotesquely exaggerated, of the male genital organs; the phallophori crowned with violets and ivy and their faces shaded with green foliage, sang improvised airs, called 'Phallics,' full of obscenity and suggestive 'double entendres.'
[191] The most propitious moment for Love's gambols, observes the scholiast.
[192] Married women did not join in the processions.
[193] The god of generation, worshipped in the form of a phallus.
[194] A remark, which fixes the date of the production of the 'Acharnians,' viz. the sixth year of the Peloponnesian War, 426 B.C.
[195] Lamachus was an Athenian general, who figures later in this comedy.
[196] At the rural Dionysia a pot of kitchen vegetables was borne in the procession along with other emblems.
[197] Cleon the Demagogue was a currier originally by trade. He was the sworn foe and particular detestation of the Knights or aristocratic party generally.
[198] That is, the baskets of charcoal.
[199] The stage of the Greek theatre was much broader, and at the same time shallower, than in a modern playhouse.
[200] A mountain in Attica, in the neighbourhood of Acharnae.
[201] Orators in the pay of the enemy.
[202] Satire on the Athenians' addiction to lawsuits.
[203] 'The Babylonians.' Cleon had denounced Aristophanes to the senate for having scoffed at Athens before strangers, many of whom were present at the performance. The play is now lost.
[204] A tragic poet; we know next to nothing of him or his works.
[205] Son of Aeolus, renowned in fable for his robberies, and for the tortures to which he was put by Pluto. He was cunning enough to break loose out of hell, but Hermes brought him back again.
[206] This whole scene is directed at Euripides; Aristophanes ridicules the subtleties of his poetry and the trickeries of his staging, which, according to him, he only used to attract the less refined among his audience.
[207] "Wheeled out"—that is, by means of the [Greek: ekkukl_ema], a mechanical contrivance of the Greek stage, by which an interior was shown, the set scene with performers, etc., all complete, being in some way, which cannot be clearly made out from the descriptions, swung out or wheeled out on to the main stage.
[208] Having been lamed, it is of course implied, by tumbling from the lofty apparatus on which the Author sat perched to write his tragedies.
[209] Euripides delighted, or was supposed by his critic Aristophanes to delight, in the representation of misery and wretchedness on the stage. 'Aeneus,' 'Phoenix,' 'Philoctetes,' 'Bellerophon,' 'Telephus,' 'Ino' are titles of six tragedies of his in this genre of which fragments are extant.
[210] Line borrowed from Euripides. A great number of verses are similarly parodied in this scene.
[211] Report said that Euripides' mother had sold vegetables on the market.
[212] Aristophanes means, of course, to imply that the whole talent of Euripides lay in these petty details of stage property.
[213] 'The Babylonians' had been produced at a time of year when Athens was crowded with strangers; 'The Acharnians,' on the contrary, was played in December.
[214] Sparta had been menaced with an earthquake in 427 B.C. Posidon was 'The Earthshaker,' god of earthquakes, as well as of the sea.
[215] A song by Timocreon the Rhodian, the words of which were practically identical with Pericles' decree.
[216] A small and insignificant island, one of the Cyclades, allied with the Athenians, like most of these islands previous to and during the first part of the Peloponnesian War.
[217] A figure of Medusa's head, forming the centre of Lamachus' shield.
[218] Indicates the character of his election, which was arranged, so Aristophanes implies, by his partisans.
[219] Towns in Sicily. There is a pun on the name Gela—[Greek: Gela] and [Greek: Katagela] (ridiculous)—which it is impossible to keep in English. Apparently the Athenians had sent embassies to all parts of the Greek world to arrange treaties of alliance in view of the struggle with the Lacedaemonians; but only young debauchees of aristocratic connections had been chosen as envoys.
[220] A contemporary orator apparently, otherwise unknown.
[221] The parabasis in the Old Comedy was a sort of address or topical harangue addressed directly by the poet, speaking by the Chorus, to the audience. It was nearly always political in bearing, and the subject of the particular piece was for the time being set aside altogether.
[222] It will be remembered that Aristophanes owned land in Aegina.
[223] Everything was made the object of a law-suit at Athens. The old soldiers, inexpert at speaking, often lost the day.
[224] A water-clock used to limit the length of speeches in the courts.
[225] A braggart speaker, fiery and pugnacious.
[226] Cephisodemus was an Athenian, but through his mother possessed Scythian blood.
[227] The city of Athens was policed by Scythian archers.
[228] Alcibiades.
[229] The leather market was held at Lepros, outside the city.
[230] Meaning an informer ([Greek: phain_o], to denounce).
[231] According to the Athenian custom.
[232] Megara was allied to Sparta and suffered during the war more than any other city, because of its proximity to Athens.
[233]: Throughout this whole scene there is an obscene play upon the word [Greek: choiros], which means in Greek both 'sow' and 'a woman's organs of generation.'
[234] Sacrificial victims were bound to be perfect in every part; an animal, therefore, without a tail could not be offered.
[235] The Greek word, [Greek: erebinthos], also means the male sexual organ. Observe the little pig-girl greets this question with three affirmative squeaks!
[236] The Megarians used the Doric dialect.
[237] A play upon the word [Greek: phainein], which both means to light and to denounce.
[238] An informer (sycophant), otherwise unknown.
[239] A debauchee of vile habits; a pathic.
[240] Mentioned above; he was as proud as he was cowardly.
[241] An Athenian general, quarrelsome and litigious, and an Informer into the bargain.
[242] A comic poet of vile habits.
[243] A painter.
[244] A debauchee, a gambler, and always in extreme poverty.
[245] This kind of flute had a bellows, made of dog-skin, much like the bagpipes of to-day.
[246] A flute-player, mentioned above.
[247] A hero, much honoured in Thebes; nephew of Heracles.
[248] A form of bread peculiar to Boeotia.
[249] A lake in Boeotia.
[250] He was the Lucullus of Athens.
[251] This again fixes the date of the presentation of the 'Acharnians' to 426 B.C., the sixth year of the War, since the beginning of which Boeotia had been closed to the Athenians.
[252] An Informer.
[253] The second day of the Dionysia or feasts of Bacchus, kept in the month Anthesterion (February), and called the Anthesteria. They lasted three days; the second being the Feast of Cups, a description of which is to be found at the end of this comedy, the third the Feast of Pans. Vases, filled with grain of all kinds, were borne in procession and dedicated to Hermes.
[254] A parody of some verses from a lost poet.
[255] A feasting song in honour of Harmodius, the assassin of Hipparchus the Tyrant, son of Pisistratus.
[256] The celebrated painter, born at Heraclea, a contemporary of Aristophanes.
[257] A deme and frontier fortress of Attica, near the Boeotian border.
[258] An Athenian physician of the day.
[259] An allusion to the paroxysms of rage, as represented in many tragedies familiar to an Athenian audience, of Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, after he had killed his mother.
[260] No doubt the comic poet, rival of Aristophanes.
[261] Unexpected wind-up of the story. Aristophanes intends to deride the boasting of Lamachus, who was always ascribing to himself most unlikely exploits.
PEACE
INTRODUCTION
The 'Peace' was brought out four years after 'The Acharnians' (422 B.C.), when the War had already lasted ten years. The leading motive is the same as in the former play—the intense desire of the less excitable and more moderate-minded citizens for relief from the miseries of war.
Trygaeus, a rustic patriot, finding no help in men, resolves to ascend to heaven to expostulate personally with Zeus for allowing this wretched state of things to continue. With this object he has fed and trained a gigantic dung-beetle, which he mounts, and is carried, like Bellerophon on Pegasus, on an aerial journey. Eventually he reaches Olympus, only to find that the gods have gone elsewhere, and that the heavenly abode is occupied solely by the demon of War, who is busy pounding up the Greek States in a huge mortar. However, his benevolent purpose is not in vain; for learning from Hermes that the goddess Peace has been cast into a pit, where she is kept a fast prisoner, he calls upon the different peoples of Hellas to make a united effort and rescue her, and with their help drags her out and brings her back in triumph to earth. The play concludes with the restoration of the goddess to her ancient honours, the festivities of the rustic population and the nuptials of Trygaeus with Opora (Harvest), handmaiden of Peace, represented as a pretty courtesan.
Such references as there are to Cleon in this play are noteworthy. The great Demagogue was now dead, having fallen in the same action as the rival Spartan general, the renowned Brasidas, before Amphipolis, and whatever Aristophanes says here of his old enemy is conceived in the spirit of 'de mortuis nil nisi bonum.' In one scene Hermes is descanting on the evils which had nearly ruined Athens and declares that 'The Tanner' was the cause of them all. But Trygaeus interrupts him with the words:
"Hold—say not so, good master Hermes; Let the man rest in peace where now he lies. He is no longer of our world, but yours."
Here surely we have a trait of magnanimity on the author's part as admirable in its way as the wit and boldness of his former attacks had been in theirs.
* * * * *
PEACE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
TRYGAEUS. TWO SERVANTS of TRYGAEUS. MAIDENS, Daughters of TRYGAEUS. HERMES. WAR. TUMULT. HIEROCLES, a Soothsayer. A SICKLE-MAKER. A CREST-MAKER. A TRUMPET-MAKER. A HELMET-MAKER. A SPEAR-MAKER. SON OF LAMACHUS. SON OF CLEONYMUS. CHORUS OF HUSBANDMEN.
SCENE: A farmyard, two slaves busy beside a dungheap; afterwards, in Olympus.
* * * * *
PEACE
FIRST SERVANT. Quick, quick, bring the dung-beetle his cake.
SECOND SERVANT. Coming, coming.
FIRST SERVANT. Give it to him, and may it kill him!
SECOND SERVANT. May he never eat a better.
FIRST SERVANT. Now give him this other one kneaded up with ass's dung.
SECOND SERVANT. There! I've done that too.
FIRST SERVANT. And where's what you gave him just now; surely he can't have devoured it yet!
SECOND SERVANT. Indeed he has; he snatched it, rolled it between his feet and boiled it.
FIRST SERVANT. Come, hurry up, knead up a lot and knead them stiffly.
SECOND SERVANT. Oh, scavengers, help me in the name of the gods, if you do not wish to see me fall down choked.
FIRST SERVANT. Come, come, another made of the stool of a young scapegrace catamite. 'Twill be to the beetle's taste; he likes it well ground.[262]
SECOND SERVANT. There! I am free at least from suspicion; none will accuse me of tasting what I mix.
FIRST SERVANT. Faugh! come, now another! keep on mixing with all your might.
SECOND SERVANT. I' faith, no. I can stand this awful cesspool stench no longer, so I bring you the whole ill-smelling gear.
FIRST SERVANT. Pitch it down the sewer sooner, and yourself with it.
SECOND SERVANT. Maybe, one of you can tell me where I can buy a stopped-up nose, for there is no work more disgusting than to mix food for a beetle and to carry it to him. A pig or a dog will at least pounce upon our excrement without more ado, but this foul wretch affects the disdainful, the spoilt mistress, and won't eat unless I offer him a cake that has been kneaded for an entire day.... But let us open the door a bit ajar without his seeing it. Has he done eating? Come, pluck up courage, cram yourself till you burst! The cursed creature! It wallows in its food! It grips it between its claws like a wrestler clutching his opponent, and with head and feet together rolls up its paste like a ropemaker twisting a hawser. What an indecent, stinking, gluttonous beast! I know not what angry god let this monster loose upon us, but of a certainty it was neither Aphrodit nor the Graces.
FIRST SERVANT. Who was it then?
SECOND SERVANT. No doubt the Thunderer, Zeus.
FIRST SERVANT. But perhaps some spectator, some beardless youth, who thinks himself a sage, will say, "What is this? What does the beetle mean?" And then an Ionian,[263] sitting next him, will add, "I think 'tis an allusion to Cleon, who so shamelessly feeds on filth all by himself."—But now I'm going indoors to fetch the beetle a drink.
SECOND SERVANT. As for me, I will explain the matter to you all, children, youths, grown-ups and old men, aye, even to the decrepit dotards. My master is mad, not as you are, but with another sort of madness, quite a new kind. The livelong day he looks open-mouthed towards heaven and never stops addressing Zeus. "Ah! Zeus," he cries, "what are thy intentions? Lay aside thy besom; do not sweep Greece away!"
TRYGAEUS. Ah! ah! ah!
FIRST SERVANT. Hush, hush! Methinks I hear his voice!
TRYGAEUS. Oh! Zeus, what art thou going to do for our people? Dost thou not see this, that our cities will soon be but empty husks?
FIRST SLAVE. As I told you, that is his form of madness. There you have a sample of his follies. When his trouble first began to seize him, he said to himself, "By what means could I go straight to Zeus?" Then he made himself very slender little ladders and so clambered up towards heaven; but he soon came hurtling down again and broke his head. Yesterday, to our misfortune, he went out and brought us back this thoroughbred, but from where I know not, this great beetle, whose groom he has forced me to become. He himself caresses it as though it were a horse, saying, "Oh! my little Pegasus,[264] my noble aerial steed, may your wings soon bear me straight to Zeus!" But what is my master doing? I must stoop down to look through this hole. Oh! great gods! Here! neighbours, run here quick! here is my master flying off mounted on his beetle as if on horseback.
TRYGAEUS. Gently, gently, go easy, beetle; don't start off so proudly, or trust at first too greatly to your powers; wait till you have sweated, till the beating of your wings shall make your limb joints supple. Above all things, don't let off some foul smell, I adjure you; else I would rather have you stop in the stable altogether.
SECOND SERVANT. Poor master! Is he crazy?
TRYGAEUS. Silence! silence!
SECOND SERVANT (to Trygaeus). But why start up into the air on chance?
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis for the weal of all the Greeks; I am attempting a daring and novel feat.
SECOND SERVANT. But what is your purpose? What useless folly!
TRYGAEUS. No words of ill omen! Give vent to joy and command all men to keep silence, to close down their drains and privies with new tiles and to stop their own vent-holes.[265]
FIRST SERVANT. No, I shall not be silent, unless you tell me where you are going.
TRYGAEUS. Why, where am I likely to be going across the sky, if it be not to visit Zeus?
FIRST SERVANT. For what purpose?
TRYGAEUS. I want to ask him what he reckons to do for all the Greeks.
SECOND SERVANT. And if he doesn't tell you?
TRYGAEUS. I shall pursue him at law as a traitor who sells Greece to the Medes.[266]
SECOND SERVANT. Death seize me, if I let you go.
TRYGAEUS. It is absolutely necessary.
SECOND SERVANT. Alas! alas! dear little girls, your father is deserting you secretly to go to heaven. Ah! poor orphans, entreat him, beseech him.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Father! father! what is this I hear? Is it true? What! you would leave me, you would vanish into the sky, you would go to the crows?[267] 'Tis impossible! Answer, father, an you love me.
TRYGAEUS. Yes, I am going. You hurt me too sorely, my daughters, when you ask me for bread, calling me your daddy, and there is not the ghost of an obolus in the house; if I succeed and come back, you will have a barley loaf every morning—and a punch in the eye for sauce!
LITTLE DAUGHTER. But how will you make the journey? 'Tis not a ship that will carry you thither.
TRYGAEUS. No, but this winged steed will.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. But what an idea, daddy, to harness a beetle, on which to fly to the gods.
TRYGAEUS. We see from Aesop's fables that they alone can fly to the abode of the Immortals.[268]
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Father, father, 'tis a tale nobody can believe! that such a stinking creature can have gone to the gods.
TRYGAEUS. It went to have vengeance on the eagle and break its eggs.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Why not saddle Pegasus? you would have a more tragic[269] appearance in the eyes of the gods.
TRYGAEUS. Eh! don't you see, little fool, that then twice the food would be wanted? Whereas my beetle devours again as filth what I have eaten myself.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. And if it fell into the watery depths of the sea, could it escape with its wings?
TRYGAEUS (showing his penis). I am fitted with a rudder in case of need, and my Naxos beetle will serve me as a boat.[270]
LITTLE DAUGHTER. And what harbour will you put in at?
TRYGAEUS. Why, is there not the harbour of Cantharos at the Piraeus?[271]
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Take care not to knock against anything and so fall off into space; once a cripple, you would be a fit subject for Euripides, who would put you into a tragedy.[272]
TRYGAEUS. I'll see to it. Good-bye! (To the Athenians.) You, for love of whom I brave these dangers, do ye neither let wind nor go to stool for the space of three days, for, if, while cleaving the air, my steed should scent anything, he would fling me head foremost from the summit of my hopes. Now come, my Pegasus, get a-going with up-pricked ears and make your golden bridle resound gaily. Eh! what are you doing? What are you up to? Do you turn your nose towards the cesspools? Come, pluck up a spirit; rush upwards from the earth, stretch out your speedy wings and make straight for the palace of Zeus; for once give up foraging in your daily food.—Hi! you down there, what are you after now? Oh! my god! 'tis a man emptying his belly in the Piraeus, close to the house where the bad girls are. But is it my death you seek then, my death? Will you not bury that right away and pile a great heap of earth upon it and plant wild thyme therein and pour perfumes on it? If I were to fall from up here and misfortune happened to me, the town of Chios[273]would owe a fine of five talents for my death, all along of your cursed rump. Alas! how frightened I am! oh! I have no heart for jests. Ah! machinist, take great care of me. There is already a wind whirling round my navel; take great care or, from sheer fright, I shall form food for my beetle.... But I think I am no longer far from the gods; aye, that is the dwelling of Zeus, I perceive. Hullo! Hi! where is the doorkeeper? Will no one open?
* * * * *
The scene changes and heaven is presented.
HERMES. Meseems I can sniff a man. (He perceives Trygaeus astride his beetle.) Why, what plague is this?
TRYGAEUS. A horse-beetle.
HERMES. Oh! impudent, shameless rascal! oh! scoundrel! triple scoundrel! the greatest scoundrel in the world! how did you come here? Oh! scoundrel of all scoundrels! your name? Reply.
TRYGAEUS. Triple scoundrel.
HERMES. Your country?
TRYGAEUS. Triple scoundrel.
HERMES. Your father?
TRYGAEUS. My father? Triple scoundrel.
HERMES. By the Earth, you shall die, unless you tell me your name.
TRYGAEUS. I am Trygaeus of the Athmonian deme, a good vine-dresser, little addicted to quibbling and not at all an informer.
HERMES. Why do you come?
TRYGAEUS. I come to bring you this meat.
HERMES. Ah! my good friend, did you have a good journey?
TRYGAEUS. Glutton, be off! I no longer seem a triple scoundrel to you. Come, call Zeus.
HERMES. Ah! ah! you are a long way yet from reaching the gods, for they moved yesterday.
TRYGAEUS. To what part of the earth?
HERMES. Eh! of the earth, did you say?
TRYGAEUS. In short, where are they then?
HERMES. Very far, very far, right at the furthest end of the dome of heaven.
TRYGAEUS. But why have they left you all alone here?
HERMES. I am watching what remains of the furniture, the little pots and pans, the bits of chairs and tables, and odd wine-jars.
TRYGAEUS. And why have the gods moved away?
HERMES. Because of their wrath against the Greeks. They have located War in the house they occupied themselves and have given him full power to do with you exactly as he pleases; then they went as high up as ever they could, so as to see no more of your fights and to hear no more of your prayers.
TRYGAEUS. What reason have they for treating us so?
HERMES. Because they have afforded you an opportunity for peace more than once, but you have always preferred war. If the Laconians got the very slightest advantage, they would exclaim, "By the Twin Brethren! the Athenians shall smart for this." If, on the contrary, the latter triumphed and the Laconians came with peace proposals, you would say, "By Demeter, they want to deceive us. No, by Zeus, we will not hear a word; they will always be coming as long as we hold Pylos."[274]
TRYGAEUS. Yes, that is quite the style our folk do talk in.
HERMES. So that I don't know whether you will ever see Peace again.
TRYGAEUS. Why, where has she gone to then?
HERMES. War has cast her into a deep pit.
TRYGAEUS. Where?
HERMES. Down there, at the very bottom. And you see what heaps of stones he has piled over the top, so that you should never pull her out again.
TRYGAEUS. Tell me, what is War preparing against us?
HERMES. All I know is that last evening he brought along a huge mortar.
TRYGAEUS. And what is he going to do with his mortar?
HERMES. He wants to pound up all the cities of Greece in it.... But I must say good-bye, for I think he is coming out; what an uproar he is making!
TRYGAEUS. Ah! great gods! let us seek safety; meseems I already hear the noise of this fearful war mortar.
WAR (enters carrying a mortar). Oh! mortals, mortals, wretched mortals, how your jaws will snap!
TRYGAEUS. Oh! divine Apollo! what a prodigious big mortar! Oh, what misery the very sight of War causes me! This then is the foe from whom I fly, who is so cruel, so formidable, so stalwart, so solid on his legs!
WAR. Oh! Prasiae![275] thrice wretched, five times, aye, a thousand times wretched! for thou shalt be destroyed this day.
TRYGAEUS. This does not yet concern us over much; 'tis only so much the worse for the Laconians.
WAR. Oh! Megara! Megara! how utterly are you going to be ground up! what fine mincemeat[276] are you to be made into!
TRYGAEUS. Alas! alas! what bitter tears there will be among the Megarians![277]
WAR. Oh, Sicily! you too must perish! Your wretched towns shall be grated like this cheese.[278] Now let us pour some Attic honey[279] into the mortar.
TRYGAEUS. Oh! I beseech you! use some other honey; this kind is worth four obols; be careful, oh! be careful of our Attic honey.
WAR. Hi! Tumult, you slave there!
TUMULT. What do you want?
WAR. Out upon you! You stand there with folded arms. Take this cuff o' the head for your pains.
TUMULT. Oh! how it stings! Master, have you got garlic in your fist, I wonder?
WAR. Run and fetch me a pestle.
TUMULT. But we haven't got one; 'twas only yesterday we moved.
WAR. Go and fetch me one from Athens, and hurry, hurry!
TUMULT. Aye, I hasten there; if I return without one, I shall have no cause for laughing. [Exit.
TRYGAEUS. Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are? See the danger that threatens if he returns with the pestle, for War will quietly amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces. Ah! Bacchus! cause this herald of evil to perish on his road!
WAR. Well!
TUMULT (who has returned). Well, what?
WAR. You have brought back nothing?
TUMULT. Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle—the tanner, who ground Greece to powder.[280]
TRYGAEUS. Oh! Athen, venerable mistress! 'tis well for our city he is dead, and before he could serve us with this hash.
WAR. Then go and seek one at Sparta and have done with it!
TUMULT. Aye, aye, master!
WAR. Be back as quick as ever you can.
TRYGAEUS (to the audience). What is going to happen, friends? 'Tis a critical hour. Ah! if there is some initiate of Samothrace[281] among you, 'tis surely the moment to wish this messenger some accident—some sprain or strain.
TUMULT (who returns). Alas! alas! thrice again, alas!
WAR. What is it? Again you come back without it?
TUMULT. The Spartans too have lost their pestle.
WAR. How, varlet?
TUMULT. They had lent it to their allies in Thrace,[282] who have lost it for them.
TRYGAEUS. Long life to you, Thracians! My hopes revive, pluck up courage, mortals!
WAR. Take all this stuff away; I am going in to make a pestle for myself.
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis now the time to sing as Datis did, as he masturbated himself at high noon, "Oh pleasure! oh enjoyment! oh delights!" 'Tis now, oh Greeks! the moment when freed of quarrels and fighting, we should rescue sweet Peace and draw her out of this pit, before some other pestle prevents us. Come, labourers, merchants, workmen, artisans, strangers, whether you be domiciled or not, islanders, come here, Greeks of all countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! 'Tis the moment to drain a cup in honour of the Good Genius.
CHORUS. Come hither, all! quick, quick, hasten to the rescue! All peoples of Greece, now is the time or never, for you to help each other. You see yourselves freed from battles and all their horrors of bloodshed. The day, hateful to Lamachus,[283] has come. Come then, what must be done? Give your orders, direct us, for I swear to work this day without ceasing, until with the help of our levers and our engines we have drawn back into light the greatest of all goddesses, her to whom the olive is so dear.
TRYGAEUS. Silence! if War should hear your shouts of joy he would bound forth from his retreat in fury.
CHORUS. Such a decree overwhelms us with joy; how different to the edict, which bade us muster with provisions for three days.[284]
TRYGAEUS. Let us beware lest the cursed Cerberus[285] prevent us even from the nethermost hell from delivering the goddess by his furious howling, just as he did when on earth.
CHORUS. Once we have hold of her, none in the world will be able to take her from us. Huzza! huzza![286]
TRYGAEUS. You will work my death if you don't subdue your shouts. War will come running out and trample everything beneath his feet.
CHORUS. Well then! Let him confound, let him trample, let him overturn everything! We cannot help giving vent to our joy.
TRYGAEUS. Oh! cruel fate! My friends! in the name of the gods, what possesses you? Your dancing will wreck the success of a fine undertaking.
CHORUS. 'Tis not I who want to dance; 'tis my legs that bound with delight.
TRYGAEUS. Enough, an you love me, cease your gambols.
CHORUS. There! Tis over.
TRYGAEUS. You say so, and nevertheless you go on.
CHORUS. Yet one more figure and 'tis done.
TRYGAEUS. Well, just this one; then you must dance no more.
CHORUS. No, no more dancing, if we can help you.
TRYGAEUS. But look, you are not stopping even now.
CHORUS. By Zeus, I am only throwing up my right leg, that's all.
TRYGAEUS. Come, I grant you that, but pray, annoy me no further.
CHORUS. Ah! the left leg too will have its fling; well, 'tis but its right. I am so happy, so delighted at not having to carry my buckler any more. I sing and I laugh more than if I had cast my old age, as a serpent does its skin.
TRYGAEUS. No, 'tis no time for joy yet, for you are not sure of success. But when you have got the goddess, then rejoice, shout and laugh; thenceforward you will be able to sail or stay at home, to make love or sleep, to attend festivals and processions, to play at cottabos,[287] live like true Sybarites and to shout, Io, io!
CHORUS. Ah! God grant we may see the blessed day. I have suffered so much; have so oft slept with Phormio[288] on hard beds. You will no longer find me an acid, angry, hard judge as heretofore, but will find me turned indulgent and grown younger by twenty years through happiness. We have been killing ourselves long enough, tiring ourselves out with going to the Lyceum[289] and returning laden with spear and buckler.—But what can we do to please you? Come, speak; for 'tis a good Fate, that has named you our leader.
TRYGAEUS. How shall we set about removing these stones?
HERMES. Rash reprobate, what do you propose doing?
TRYGAEUS. Nothing bad, as Cillicon said.[290]
HERMES. You are undone, you wretch.
TRYGAEUS. Yes, if the lot had to decide my life, for Hermes would know how to turn the chance.[291]
HERMES. You are lost, you are dead.
TRYGAEUS. On what day?
HERMES. This instant.
TRYGAEUS. But I have not provided myself with flour and cheese yet[292] to start for death.
HERMES. You are kneaded and ground already, I tell you.[293]
TRYGAEUS. Hah! I have not yet tasted that gentle pleasure.
HERMES. Don't you know that Zeus has decreed death for him who is surprised exhuming Peace?
TRYGAEUS. What! must I really and truly die?
HERMES. You must.
TRYGAEUS. Well then, lend me three drachmae to buy a young pig; I wish to have myself initiated before I die.[294]
HERMES. Oh! Zeus, the Thunderer![295]
TRYGAEUS. I adjure you in the name of the gods, master, don't denounce us!
HERMES. I may not, I cannot keep silent.
TRYGAEUS. In the name of the meats which I brought you so good-naturedly.
HERMES. Why, wretched man, Zeus will annihilate me, if I do not shout out at the top of my voice, to inform him what you are plotting.
TRYGAEUS. Oh, no! don't shout, I beg you, dear little Hermes.... And what are you doing, comrades? You stand there as though you were stocks and stones. Wretched men, speak, entreat him at once; otherwise he will be shouting.
CHORUS. Oh! mighty Hermes! don't do it; no, don't do it! If ever you have eaten some young pig, sacrificed by us on your altars, with pleasure, may this offering not be without value in your sight to-day.
TRYGAEUS. Do you not hear them wheedling you, mighty god?
CHORUS. Be not pitiless toward our prayers; permit us to deliver the goddess. Oh! the most human, the most generous of the gods, be favourable toward us, if it be true that you detest the haughty crests and proud brows of Pisander;[296] we shall never cease, oh master, offering you sacred victims and solemn prayers.
TRYGAEUS. Have mercy, mercy, let yourself be touched by their words; never was your worship so dear to them as to-day.
HERMES. I' truth, never have you been greater thieves.[297]
TRYGAEUS. I will reveal a great, a terrible conspiracy against the gods to you.
HERMES. Hah! speak and perchance I shall let myself be softened.
TRYGAEUS. Know then, that the Moon and that infamous Sun are plotting against you, and want to deliver Greece into the hands of the Barbarians.
HERMES. What for?
TRYGAEUS. Because it is to you that we sacrifice, whereas the barbarians worship them; hence they would like to see you destroyed, that they alone might receive the offerings.
HERMES. 'Tis then for this reason that these untrustworthy charioteers have for so long been defrauding us, one of them robbing us of daylight and the other nibbling away at the other's disk.[298]
TRYGAEUS. Yes, certainly. So therefore, Hermes, my friend, help us with your whole heart to find and deliver the captive and we will celebrate the great Panathenaea[299] in your honour as well as all the festivals of the other gods; for Hermes shall be the Mysteries, the Dipolia, the Adonia; everywhere the towns, freed from their miseries, will sacrifice to Hermes, the Liberator; you will be loaded with benefits of every kind, and to start with, I offer you this cup for libations as your first present.
HERMES. Ah! how golden cups do influence me! Come, friends, get to work. To the pit quickly, pick in hand and drag away the stones.
CHORUS. We go, but you, the cleverest of all the gods, supervise our labours; tell us, good workman as you are, what we must do; we shall obey your orders with alacrity.
TRYGAEUS. Quick, reach me your cup, and let us preface our work by addressing prayers to the gods.
HERMES. Oh! sacred, sacred libations! Keep silence, oh! ye people! keep silence!
TRYGAEUS. Let us offer our libations and our prayers, so that this day may begin an era of unalloyed happiness for Greece and that he who has bravely pulled at the rope with us may never resume his buckler.
CHORUS. Aye, may we pass our lives in peace, caressing our mistresses and poking the fire.
TRYGAEUS. May he who would prefer the war, oh Dionysus, be ever drawing barbed arrows out of his elbows.
CHORUS. If there be a citizen, greedy for military rank and honours, who refuses, oh, divine Peace! to restore you to daylight, may he behave as cowardly as Cleonymus on the battlefield.
TRYGAEUS. If a lance-maker or a dealer in shields desires war for the sake of better trade, may he be taken by pirates and eat nothing but barley.
CHORUS. If some ambitious man does not help us, because he wants to become a General, or if a slave is plotting to pass over to the enemy, let his limbs be broken on the wheel, may he be beaten to death with rods! As for us, may Fortune favour us! Io! Paean, Io!
TRYGAEUS. Don't say Paean,[300] but simply, Io.
CHORUS. Very well, then! Io! Io! I'll simply say, Io!
TRYGAEUS. To Hermes, the Graces, Hora, Aphrodit, Eros!
CHORUS. And not to Ares?
TRYGAEUS. No.
CHORUS. Nor doubtless to Enyalius?
TRYGAEUS. No.
CHORUS. Come, all strain at the ropes to tear away the stones. Pull!
HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
CHORUS. Come, pull harder, harder.
HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
CHORUS. Still harder, harder still.
HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
TRYGAEUS. Come, come, there is no working together. Come! all pull at the same instant! you Boeotians are only pretending. Beware!
HERMES. Come, heave away, heave!
CHORUS. Hi! you two pull as well.
TRYGAEUS. Why, I am pulling, I am hanging on to the rope and straining till I am almost off my feet; I am working with all my might.
HERMES. Why does not the work advance then?
TRYGAEUS. Lamachus, this is too bad! You are in the way, sitting there. We have no use for your Medusa's head, friend.[301]
HERMES. But hold, the Argives have not pulled the least bit; they have done nothing but laugh at us for our pains while they were getting gain with both hands.[302]
TRYGAEUS. Ah! my dear sir, the Laconians at all events pull with vigour.
CHORUS. But look! only those among them who generally hold the plough-tail show any zeal,[303] while the armourers impede them in their efforts.
HERMES. And the Megarians too are doing nothing, yet look how they are pulling and showing their teeth like famished curs; the poor wretches are dying of hunger![304]
TRYGAEUS. This won't do, friends. Come! all together! Everyone to the work and with a good heart for the business.
HERMES. Heave away, heave!
TRYGAEUS. Harder!
HERMES. Heave away, heave!
TRYGAEUS. Come on then, by heaven.
HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave!
CHORUS. This will never do.
TRYGAEUS. Is it not a shame? some pull one way and others another. You, Argives there, beware of a thrashing!
HERMES. Come, put your strength into it.
TRYGAEUS. Heave away, heave!
CHORUS. There are many ill-disposed folk among us.
TRYGAEUS. Do you at least, who long for peace, pull heartily.
CHORUS. But there are some who prevent us.
HERMES. Off to the Devil with you, Megarians! The goddess hates you. She recollects that you were the first to rub her the wrong way. Athenians, you are not well placed for pulling. There you are too busy with law-suits; if you really want to free the goddess, get down a little towards the sea.[305]
CHORUS. Come, friends, none but husbandmen on the rope.
HERMES. Ah! that will do ever so much better.
CHORUS. He says the thing is going well. Come, all of you, together and with a will.
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis the husbandmen who are doing all the work.
CHORUS. Come then, come, and all together! Hah! hah! at last there is some unanimity in the work. Don't let us give up, let us redouble our efforts. There! now we have it! Come then, all together! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! All together! (Peace is drawn out of the pit.)
TRYGAEUS. Oh! venerated goddess, who givest us our grapes, where am I to find the ten-thousand-gallon words[306] wherewith to greet thee? I have none such at home. Oh! hail to thee, Opora,[307] and thou, Theoria![308] How beautiful is thy face! How sweet thy breath! What gentle fragrance comes from thy bosom, gentle as freedom from military duty, as the most dainty perfumes!
HERMES. Is it then a smell like a soldier's knapsack?
CHORUS. Oh! hateful soldier! your hideous satchel makes me sick! it stinks like the belching of onions, whereas this lovable deity has the odour of sweet fruits, of festivals, of the Dionysia, of the harmony of flutes, of the comic poets, of the verses of Sophocles, of the phrases of Euripides...
TRYGAEUS. That's a foul calumny, you wretch! She detests that framer of subtleties and quibbles.
CHORUS. ... of ivy, of straining-bags for wine, of bleating ewes, of provision-laden women hastening to the kitchen, of the tipsy servant wench, of the upturned wine-jar, and of a whole heap of other good things.
HERMES. Then look how the reconciled towns chat pleasantly together, how they laugh; and yet they are all cruelly mishandled; their wounds are bleeding still.
TRYGAEUS. But let us also scan the mien of the spectators; we shall thus find out the trade of each.
HERMES. Ah! good gods! look at that poor crest-maker, tearing at his hair,[309] and at that pike-maker, who has just broken wind in yon sword-cutler's face.
TRYGAEUS. And do you see with what pleasure this sickle-maker is making long noses at the spear-maker?
HERMES. Now ask the husbandmen to be off.
TRYGAEUS. Listen, good folk! Let the husbandmen take their farming tools and return to their fields as quick as possible, but without either sword, spear or javelin. All is as quiet as if Peace had been reigning for a century. Come, let everyone go till the earth, singing the Paean.
CHORUS. Oh, thou, whom men of standing desired and who art good to husbandmen, I have gazed upon thee with delight; and now I go to greet my vines, to caress after so long an absence the fig trees I planted in my youth.
TRYGAEUS. Friends, let us first adore the goddess, who has delivered us from crests and Gorgons;[310] then let us hurry to our farms, having first bought a nice little piece of salt fish to eat in the fields.
HERMES. By Posidon! what a fine crew they make and dense as the crust of a cake; they are as nimble as guests on their way to a feast.
TRYGAEUS. See, how their iron spades glitter and how beautifully their three-pronged mattocks glisten in the sun! How regularly they will align the plants! I also burn myself to go into the country and to turn over the earth I have so long neglected.—Friends, do you remember the happy life that peace afforded us formerly; can you recall the splendid baskets of figs, both fresh and dried, the myrtles, the sweet wine, the violets blooming near the spring, and the olives, for which we have wept so much? Worship, adore the goddess for restoring you so many blessings.
CHORUS. Hail! hail! thou beloved divinity! thy return overwhelms us with joy. When far from thee, my ardent wish to see my fields again made me pine with regret. From thee came all blessings. Oh! much desired Peace! thou art the sole support of those who spend their lives tilling the earth. Under thy rule we had a thousand delicious enjoyments at our beck; thou wert the husbandman's wheaten cake and his safeguard. So that our vineyards, our young fig-tree woods and all our plantations hail thee with delight and smile at thy coming. But where was she then, I wonder, all the long time she spent away from us? Hermes, thou benevolent god, tell us!
HERMES. Wise husbandmen, hearken to my words, if you want to know why she was lost to you. The start of our misfortunes was the exile of Phidias;[311] Pericles feared he might share his ill-luck, he mistrusted your peevish nature and, to prevent all danger to himself, he threw out that little spark, the Megarian decree,[312] set the city aflame, and blew up the conflagration with a hurricane of war, so that the smoke drew tears from all Greeks both here and over there. At the very outset of this fire our vines were a-crackle, our casks knocked together;[313] it was beyond the power of any man to stop the disaster, and Peace disappeared.
TRYGAEUS. That, by Apollo! is what no one ever told me; I could not think what connection there could be between Phidias and Peace.
CHORUS. Nor I; I know it now. This accounts for her beauty, if she is related to him. There are so many things that escape us.
HERMES. Then, when the towns subject to you saw that you were angered one against the other and were showing each other your teeth like dogs, they hatched a thousand plots to pay you no more dues and gained over the chief citizens of Sparta at the price of gold. They, being as shamelessly greedy as they were faithless in diplomacy, chased off Peace with ignominy to let loose War. Though this was profitable to them, 'twas the ruin of the husbandmen, who were innocent of all blame; for, in revenge, your galleys went out to devour their figs.
TRYGAEUS. And 'twas with justice too; did they not break down my black fig tree, which I had planted and dunged with my own hands?
CHORUS. Yes, by Zeus! yes, 'twas well done; the wretches broke a chest for me with stones, which held six medimni of corn.
HERMES. Then the rural labourers flocked into the city[314] and let themselves be bought over like the others. Not having even a grape-stone to munch and longing after their figs, they looked towards the orators.[315] These well knew that the poor were driven to extremity and lacked even bread; but they nevertheless drove away the Goddess each time she reappeared in answer to the wish of the country with their loud shrieks, that were as sharp as pitchforks; furthermore, they attacked the well-filled purses of the richest among our allies on the pretence that they belonged to Brasidas' party.[316] And then you would tear the poor accused wretch to pieces with your teeth; for the city, all pale with hunger and cowed with terror, gladly snapped up any calumny that was thrown it to devour. So the strangers, seeing what terrible blows the informers dealt, sealed their lips with gold. They grew rich, while you, alas! you could only see that Greece was going to ruin. 'Twas the tanner who was the author of all this woe.[317]
TRYGAEUS. Enough said, Hermes, leave that man in Hades, whither he has gone; he no longer belongs to us, but rather to yourself.[318] That he was a cheat, a braggart, a calumniator when alive, why, nothing could be truer; but anything you might say now would be an insult to one of your own folk. Oh! venerated Goddess! why art thou silent?
HERMES. And how could she speak to the spectators? She is too angry at all that they have made her suffer.
TRYGAEUS. At least let her speak a little to you, Hermes.
HERMES. Tell me, my dear, what are your feelings with regard to them? Come, you relentless foe of all bucklers, speak; I am listening to you. (Peace whispers into Hermes' ear.) Is that your grievance against them? Yes, yes, I understand. Hearken, you folk, this is her complaint. She says, that after the affair of Pylos[319] she came to you unbidden to bring you a basket full of truces and that you thrice repulsed her by your votes in the assembly.
TRYGAEUS. Yes, we did wrong, but forgive us, for our mind was then entirely absorbed in leather.[320]
HERMES. Listen again to what she has just asked me. Who was her greatest foe here? and furthermore, had she a friend who exerted himself to put an end to the fighting?
TRYGAEUS. Her most devoted friend was Cleonymus; it is undisputed.
HERMES. How then did Cleonymus behave in fights?
TRYGAEUS. Oh! the bravest of warriors! Only he was not born of the father he claims; he showed it quick enough in the army by throwing away his weapons.[321]
HERMES. There is yet another question she has just put to me. Who rules now in the rostrum?
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis Hyperbolus, who now holds empire on the Pnyx. (To Peace.) What now? you turn away your head!
HERMES. She is vexed, that the people should give themselves a wretch of that kind for their chief.
TRYGAEUS Oh! we shall not employ him again; but the people, seeing themselves without a leader, took him haphazard, just as a man, who is naked, springs upon the first cloak he sees.
HERMES. She asks, what will be the result of such a choice of the city?
TRYGAEUS. We shall be more far-seeing in consequence.
HERMES. And why?
TRYGAEUS. Because he is a lamp-maker. Formerly we only directed our business by groping in the dark; now we shall only deliberate by lamplight.
HERMES. Oh! oh! what questions she does order me to put to you!
TRYGAEUS. What are they?
HERMES. She wants to have news of a whole heap of old-fashioned things she left here. First of all, how is Sophocles?
TRYGAEUS. Very well; but something very strange has happened to him.
HERMES. What then?
TRYGAEUS. He has turned from Sophocles into Simonides.[322]
HERMES. Into Simonides? How so?
TRYGAEUS. Because, though old and broken-down as he is, he would put to sea on a hurdle to gain an obolus.[323]
HERMES. And wise Cratinus, is he still alive?[324]
TRYGAEUS. He died about the time of the Laconian invasion.
HERMES. How?
TRYGAEUS. Of a swoon. He could not bear the shock of seeing one of his casks full of wine broken. Ah! what a number of other misfortunes our city has suffered! So, dearest mistress, nothing can now separate us from thee.
HERMES. If that be so, receive Opora here for a wife; take her to the country, live with her, and grow fine grapes together.[325]
TRYGAEUS. Come, my dear friend, come and accept my kisses. Tell me, Hermes, my master, do you think it would hurt me to fuck her a little, after so long an abstinence?
HERMES. No, not if you swallow a potion of penny-royal afterwards.[326] But hasten to lead Theoria[327] to the Senate; 'twas there she lodged before.
TRYGAEUS. Oh! fortunate Senate! Thanks to Theoria, what soups you will swallow for the space of three days![328] how you will devour meats and cooked tripe! Come, farewell, friend Hermes!
HERMES. And to you also, my dear sir, may you have much happiness, and don't forget me.
TRYGAEUS. Come, beetle, home, home, and let us fly on a swift wing.
HERMES. Oh! he is no longer here.
TRYGAEUS. Where has he gone to then?
HERMES. He is harnessed to the chariot of Zeus and bears the thunderbolts.
TRYGAEUS. But where will the poor wretch get his food?
HERMES. He will eat Ganymede's ambrosia.
TRYGAEUS. Very well then, but how am I going to descend?
HERMES. Oh! never fear, there is nothing simpler; place yourself beside the goddess.
TRYGAEUS. Come, my pretty maidens, follow me quickly; there are plenty of folk awaiting you with standing tools.
CHORUS. Farewell and good luck be yours! Let us begin by handing over all this gear to the care of our servants, for no place is less safe than a theatre; there is always a crowd of thieves prowling around it, seeking to find some mischief to do. Come, keep a good watch over all this. As for ourselves, let us explain to the spectators what we have in our minds, the purpose of our play.
Undoubtedly the comic poet who mounted the stage to praise himself in the parabasis would deserve to be handed over to the sticks of the beadles. Nevertheless, oh Muse, if it be right to esteem the most honest and illustrious of our comic writers at his proper value, permit our poet to say that he thinks he has deserved a glorious renown. First of all, 'tis he who has compelled his rivals no longer to scoff at rags or to war with lice; and as for those Heracles, always chewing and ever hungry, those poltroons and cheats who allow themselves to be beaten at will, he was the first to cover them with ridicule and to chase them from the stage;[329] he has also dismissed that slave, whom one never failed to set a-weeping before you, so that his comrade might have the chance of jeering at his stripes and might ask, "Wretch, what has happened to your hide? Has the lash rained an army of its thongs on you and laid your back waste?" After having delivered us from all these wearisome ineptitudes and these low buffooneries, he has built up for us a great art, like a palace with high towers, constructed of fine phrases, great thoughts and of jokes not common on the streets. Moreover 'tis not obscure private persons or women that he stages in his comedies; but, bold as Heracles, 'tis the very greatest whom he attacks, undeterred by the fetid stink of leather or the threats of hearts of mud. He has the right to say, "I am the first ever dared to go straight for that beast with the sharp teeth and the terrible eyes that flashed lambent fire like those of Cynna,[330] surrounded by a hundred lewd flatterers, who spittle-licked him to his heart's content; it had a voice like a roaring torrent, the stench of a seal, a foul Lamia's testicles and the rump of a camel."[331]
I did not recoil in horror at the sight of such a monster, but fought him relentlessly to win your deliverance and that of the Islanders. Such are the services which should be graven in your recollection and entitle me to your thanks. Yet I have not been seen frequenting the wrestling school intoxicated with success and trying to tamper with young boys;[332] but I took all my theatrical gear[333] and returned straight home. I pained folk but little and caused them much amusement; my conscience rebuked me for nothing. Hence both grown men and youths should be on my side and I likewise invite the bald[334] to give me their votes; for, if I triumph, everyone will say, both at table and at festivals, "Carry this to the bald man, give these cakes to the bald one, do not grudge the poet whose talent shines as bright as his own bare skull the share he deserves."
Oh, Muse! drive the War far from our city and come to preside over our dances, if you love me; come and celebrate the nuptials of the gods, the banquets of us mortals and the festivals of the fortunate; these are the themes that inspire thy most poetic songs. And should Carcinus come to beg thee for admission with his sons to thy chorus, refuse all traffic with them; remember they are but gelded birds, stork-necked dancers, mannikins about as tall as a pat of goat's dung, in fact machine-made poets.[335] Contrary to all expectation, the father has at last managed to finish a piece, but he owns himself a cat strangled it one fine evening.[336]
Such are the songs[337] with which the Muse with the glorious hair inspires the able poet and which enchant the assembled populace, when the spring swallow twitters beneath the foliage;[338] but the god spare us from the chorus of Morsimus and that of Melanthius![339] Oh! what a bitter discordancy grated upon my ears that day when the tragic chorus was directed by this same Melanthius and his brother, these two Gorgons,[340] these two harpies, the plague of the seas, whose gluttonous bellies devour the entire race of fishes, these followers of old women, these goats with their stinking arm-pits. Oh! Muse, spit upon them abundantly and keep the feast gaily with me.
TRYGAEUS. Ah! 'tis a rough job getting to the gods! my legs are as good as broken through it. How small you were, to be sure, when seen from heaven! you had all the appearance too of being great rascals; but seen close, you look even worse.
SERVANT. Is that you, master?
TRYGAEUS. So I have been told.
SERVANT. What has happened to you?
TRYGAEUS. My legs pain me; it is such a plaguey long journey.
SERVANT. Oh! do tell me....
TRYGAEUS. What?
SERVANT. Did you see any other man besides yourself strolling about in heaven?
TRYGAEUS. No, only the souls of two or three dithyrambic poets.
SERVANT. What were they doing up there?
TRYGAEUS. They were seeking to catch some lyric exordia as they flew by immersed in the billows of the air.
SERVANT. Is it true, what they tell us, that men are turned into stars after death?
TRYGAEUS. Quite true.
SERVANT. Then who is that star I see over yonder?
TRYGAEUS. That is Ion of Chios,[341] the author of an ode beginning "Morning"; as soon as ever he got to heaven, they called him "the Morning Star."
SERVANT. And those stars like sparks, that plough up the air as they dart across the sky?[342]
TRYGAEUS. They are the rich leaving the feast with a lantern and a light inside it. But hurry up, show this young girl into my house, clean out the bath, heat some water and prepare the nuptial couch for herself and me. When 'tis done, come back here; meanwhile I am off to present this one to the Senate.
SERVANT. But where then did you get these pretty chattels?
TRYGAEUS. Where? why in heaven.
SERVANT. I would not give more than an obolus for gods who have got to keeping brothels like us mere mortals.
TRYGAEUS. They are not all so, but there are some up there too who live by this trade.
SERVANT. Come, that's rich! But I bethink me, shall I give her something to eat?
TRYGAEUS. No, for she would neither touch bread nor cake; she is used to licking ambrosia at the table of the gods.
SERVANT. Well, we can give her something to lick down here too.[343]
CHORUS. Here is a truly happy old man, as far as I can judge.
TRYGAEUS. Ah! but what shall I be, when you see me presently dressed for the wedding?
CHORUS. Made young again by love and scented with perfumes, your lot will be one we all shall envy.
TRYGAEUS. And when I lie beside her and caress her bosoms?
CHORUS. Oh! then you will be happier than those spinning-tops who call Carcinus their father.[344]
TRYGAEUS. And I well deserve it; have I not bestridden a beetle to save the Greeks, who now, thanks to me, can make love at their ease and sleep peacefully on their farms?
SERVANT. The girl has quitted the bath; she is charming from head to foot, both belly and buttocks; the cake is baked and they are kneading the sesame-biscuit;[345] nothing is lacking but the bridegroom's penis.
TRYGAEUS. Let us first hasten to lodge Theoria in the hands of the Senate.
SERVANT. But tell me, who is this woman?
TRYGAEUS. Why, 'tis Theoria, with whom we used formerly to go to Brauron,[346] to get tipsy and frolic. I had the greatest trouble to get hold of her.
SERVANT. Ah! you charmer! what pleasure your pretty bottom will afford me every four years!
TRYGAEUS. Let us see, who of you is steady enough to be trusted by the Senate with the care of this charming wench? Hi! you, friend! what are you drawing there?
SERVANT. I am drawing the plan of the tent I wish to erect for myself on the isthmus.[347]
TRYGAEUS. Come, who wishes to take the charge of her? No one? Come, Theoria, I am going to lead you into the midst of the spectators and confide you to their care.
SERVANT. Ah! there is one who makes a sign to you.
TRYGAEUS. Who is it?
SERVANT. 'Tis Ariphrades. He wishes to take her home at once.
TRYGAEUS. No, I'm sure he shan't. He would soon have her done for, licking up all her life juice.[348] Come, Theoria, put down all this gear.[349]—Senate, Prytanes, look upon Theoria and see what precious blessings I place in your hands.[350] Hasten to raise its limbs and to immolate the victim. Admire the fine chimney,[351] it is quite black with smoke, for 'twas here that the Senate did their cooking before the War. Now that you have found Theoria again, you can start the most charming games from to-morrow, wrestling with her on the ground, either on your hands and feet, or you can lay her on her side, or stand before her with bent knees, or, well rubbed with oil, you can boldly enter the lists, as in the Pancratium, belabouring your foe with blows from your fist or otherwise.[352] The next day you will celebrate equestrian games, in which the riders will ride side by side, or else the chariot teams, thrown one on top of another, panting and whinnying, will roll and knock against each other on the ground, while other rivals, thrown out of their seats, will fall before reaching the goal, utterly exhausted by their efforts.—Come, Prytanes, take Theoria. Oh! look how graciously yonder fellow has received her; you would not have been in such a hurry to introduce her to the Senate, if nothing were coming to you through it;[353] you would not have failed to plead some holiday as an excuse. |
|
