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The Eleven Comedies

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LYSISTRATA. By Artemis, the virgin goddess! if he touches me with the tip
of his finger, officer of the public peace though he be, let him look out
for himself!

MAGISTRATE (_to the officer_). How now, are you afraid? Seize her, I tell
you, round the body. Two of you at her, and have done with it!

FIRST WOMAN. By Pandrosos! if you lay a hand on her, I'll trample you
underfoot till you shit your guts!

MAGISTRATE. Oh, there! my guts! Where is my other officer? Bind that minx
first, who speaks so prettily!

SECOND WOMAN. By Phoebé, if you touch her with one finger, you'd better
call quick for a surgeon!

MAGISTRATE. What do you mean? Officer, where are you got to? Lay hold of
her. Oh! but I'm going to stop your foolishness for you all!

THIRD WOMAN. By the Tauric Artemis, if you go near her, I'll pull out
your hair, scream as you like.

MAGISTRATE. Ah! miserable man that I am! My own officers desert me. What
ho! are we to let ourselves be bested by a mob of women? Ho! Scythians
mine, close up your ranks, and forward!

LYSISTRATA. By the holy goddesses! you'll have to make acquaintance with
four companies of women, ready for the fray and well armed to boot.

MAGISTRATE. Forward, Scythians, and bind them!

LYSISTRATA. Forward, my gallant companions; march forth, ye vendors of
grain and eggs, garlic and vegetables, keepers of taverns and bakeries,
wrench and strike and tear; come, a torrent of invective and insult!
(_They beat the officers._) Enough, enough! now retire, never rob the
vanquished!

MAGISTRATE. Here's a fine exploit for my officers!

LYSISTRATA. Ah, ha! so you thought you had only to do with a set of
slave-women! you did not know the ardour that fills the bosom of
free-born dames.

MAGISTRATE. Ardour! yes, by Apollo, ardour enough--especially for the
wine-cup!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Sir, sir! what use of words? they are of no avail with
wild beasts of this sort. Don't you know how they have just washed us
down--and with no very fragrant soap!

CHORUS OF WOMEN. What would you have? You should never have laid rash
hands on us. If you start afresh, I'll knock your eyes out. My delight is
to stay at home as coy as a young maid, without hurting anybody or moving
any more than a milestone; but 'ware the wasps, if you go stirring up the
wasps' nest!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Ah! great gods! how get the better of these ferocious
creatures? 'tis past all bearing! But come, let us try to find out the
reason of the dreadful scourge. With what end in view have they seized
the citadel of Cranaus,[425] the sacred shrine that is raised upon the
inaccessible rock of the Acropolis? Question them; be cautious and not
too credulous. 'Twould be culpable negligence not to pierce the mystery,
if we may.

MAGISTRATE (_addressing the women_). I would ask you first why ye have
barred our gates.

LYSISTRATA. To seize the treasury; no more money, no more war.

MAGISTRATE. Then money is the cause of the War?

LYSISTRATA. And of all our troubles. 'Twas to find occasion to steal that
Pisander[426] and all the other agitators were for ever raising
revolutions. Well and good! but they'll never get another drachma here.

MAGISTRATE. What do you propose to do then, pray?

LYSISTRATA. You ask me that! Why, we propose to administer the treasury
ourselves.

MAGISTRATE. _You_ do?

LYSISTRATA. What is there in that to surprise you? Do we not administer
the budget of household expenses?

MAGISTRATE. But that is not the same thing.

LYSISTRATA How so--not the same thing?

MAGISTRATE. It is the treasury supplies the expenses of the War.

LYSISTRATA. That's our first principle--no War!

MAGISTRATE. What! and the safety of the city?

LYSISTRATA. We will provide for that.

MAGISTRATE You?

LYSISTRATA Yes, just we.

MAGISTRATE. What a sorry business!

LYSISTRATA. Yes, we're going to save you, whether you will or no.

MAGISTRATE. Oh! the impudence of the creatures!

LYSISTRATA. You seem annoyed! but there, you've got to come to it.

MAGISTRATE. But 'tis the very height of iniquity!

LYSISTRATA. We're going to save you, my man.

MAGISTRATE. But if I don't want to be saved?

LYSISTRATA. Why, all the more reason!

MAGISTRATE. But what a notion, to concern yourselves with questions of
Peace and War!

LYSISTRATA. We will explain our idea.

MAGISTRATE. Out with it then; quick, or ... (_threatening her_).

LYSISTRATA. Listen, and never a movement, please!

MAGISTRATE. Oh! it is too much for me! I cannot keep my temper!

A WOMAN. Then look out for yourself; you have more to fear than we have.

MAGISTRATE. Stop your croaking, old crow, you! (_To Lysistrata._) Now
you, say your say.

LYSISTRATA. Willingly. All the long time the War has lasted, we have
endured in modest silence all you men did; we never allowed ourselves to
open our lips. We were far from satisfied, for we knew how things were
going; often in our homes we would hear you discussing, upside down and
inside out, some important turn of affairs. Then with sad hearts, but
smiling lips, we would ask you: Well, in to-day's Assembly did they vote
Peace?--But, "Mind your own business!" the husband would growl, "Hold
your tongue, do!" And I would say no more.

A WOMAN. I would not have held my tongue though, not I!

MAGISTRATE. You would have been reduced to silence by blows then.

LYSISTRATA. Well, for my part, I would say no more. But presently I would
come to know you had arrived at some fresh decision more fatally foolish
than ever. "Ah! my dear man," I would say, "what madness next!" But he
would only look at me askance and say: "Just weave your web, do; else
your cheeks will smart for hours. War is men's business!"

MAGISTRATE. Bravo! well said indeed!

LYSISTRATA. How now, wretched man? not to let us contend against your
follies, was bad enough! But presently we heard you asking out loud in
the open street: "Is there never a man left in Athens?" and, "No, not
one, not one," you were assured in reply. Then, then we made up our minds
without more delay to make common cause to save Greece. Open your ears to
our wise counsels and hold your tongues, and we may yet put things on a
better footing.

MAGISTRATE. _You_ put things indeed! Oh! 'tis too much! The insolence of
the creatures! Silence, I say.

LYSISTRATA. Silence yourself!

MAGISTRATE. May I die a thousand deaths ere I obey one who wears a veil!

LYSISTRATA. If that's all that troubles you, here, take my veil, wrap it
round your head, and hold your tongue. Then take this basket; put on a
girdle, card wool, munch beans. The War shall be women's business.

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Lay aside your water-pots, we will guard them, we will
help our friends and companions. For myself, I will never weary of the
dance; my knees will never grow stiff with fatigue. I will brave
everything with my dear allies, on whom Nature has lavished virtue,
grace, boldness, cleverness, and whose wisely directed energy is going to
save the State. Oh! my good, gallant Lysistrata, and all my friends, be
ever like a bundle of nettles; never let your anger slacken; the winds of
fortune blow our way.

LYSISTRATA. May gentle Love and the sweet Cyprian Queen shower seductive
charms on our bosoms and all our person. If only we may stir so amorous a
lust among the men that their tools stand stiff as sticks, we shall
indeed deserve the name of peace-makers among the Greeks.

MAGISTRATE. How will that be, pray?

LYSISTRATA. To begin with, we shall not see you any more running like mad
fellows to the Market holding lance in fist.

A WOMAN. That will be something gained, anyway, by the Paphian goddess,
it will!

LYSISTRATA. Now we see 'em, mixed up with saucepans and kitchen stuff,
armed to the teeth, looking like wild Corybantes![427]

MAGISTRATE. Why, of course; that's how brave men should do.

LYSISTRATA. Oh! but what a funny sight, to behold a man wearing a
Gorgon's-head buckler coming along to buy fish!

A WOMAN. 'Tother day in the Market I saw a phylarch[428] with flowing
ringlets; he was a-horseback, and was pouring into his helmet the broth
he had just bought at an old dame's stall. There was a Thracian warrior
too, who was brandishing his lance like Tereus in the play;[429] he had
scared a good woman selling figs into a perfect panic, and was gobbling
up all her ripest fruit.

MAGISTRATE. And how, pray, would you propose to restore peace and order
in all the countries of Greece?

LYSISTRATA. 'Tis the easiest thing in the world!

MAGISTRATE. Come, tell us how; I am curious to know.

LYSISTRATA. When we are winding thread, and it is tangled, we pass the
spool across and through the skein, now this way, now that way; even so,
to finish off the War, we shall send embassies hither and thither and
everywhere, to disentangle matters.

MAGISTRATE. And 'tis with your yarn, and your skeins, and your spools,
you think to appease so many bitter enmities, you silly women?

LYSISTRATA. If only you had common sense, you would always do in politics
the same as we do with our yarn.

MAGISTRATE. Come, how is that, eh?

LYSISTRATA. First we wash the yarn to separate the grease and filth; do
the same with all bad citizens, sort them out and drive them forth with
rods--'tis the refuse of the city. Then for all such as come crowding up
in search of employments and offices, we must card them thoroughly; then,
to bring them all to the same standard, pitch them pell-mell into the
same basket, resident aliens or no, allies, debtors to the State, all
mixed up together. Then as for our Colonies, you must think of them as so
many isolated hanks; find the ends of the separate threads, draw them to
a centre here, wind them into one, make one great hank of the lot, out of
which the Public can weave itself a good, stout tunic.

MAGISTRATE. Is it not a sin and a shame to see them carding and winding
the State, these women who have neither art nor part in the burdens of
the War?

LYSISTRATA. What! wretched man! why, 'tis a far heavier burden to us than
to you. In the first place, we bear sons who go off to fight far away
from Athens.

MAGISTRATE. Enough said! do not recall sad and sorry memories![430]

LYSISTRATA. Then secondly, instead of enjoying the pleasures of love and
making the best of our youth and beauty, we are left to languish far from
our husbands, who are all with the army. But say no more of ourselves;
what afflicts me is to see our girls growing old in lonely grief.

MAGISTRATE. Don't the men grow old too?

LYSISTRATA. That is not the same thing. When the soldier returns from the
wars, even though he has white hair, he very soon finds a young wife. But
a woman has only one summer; if she does not make hay while the sun
shines, no one will afterwards have anything to say to her, and she
spends her days consulting oracles, that never send her a husband.

MAGISTRATE. But the old man who can still erect his organ ...

LYSISTRATA. But you, why don't you get done with it and die? You are
rich; go buy yourself a bier, and I will knead you a honey-cake for
Cerberus. Here, take this garland. (_Drenching him with water._)

FIRST WOMAN. And this one too. (_Drenching him with water._)

SECOND WOMAN. And these fillets. (_Drenching him with water._)

LYSISTRATA. What do you lack more? Step aboard the boat; Charon is
waiting for you, you're keeping him from pushing off.

MAGISTRATE. To treat me so scurvily! What an insult! I will go show
myself to my fellow-magistrates just as I am.

LYSISTRATA. What! are you blaming us for not having exposed you according
to custom?[431] Nay, console yourself; we will not fail to offer up the
third-day sacrifice for you, first thing in the morning.[432]

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Awake, friends of freedom; let us hold ourselves aye
ready to act. I suspect a mighty peril; I foresee another Tyranny like
Hippias'.[433] I am sore afraid the Laconians assembled here with
Cleisthenes have, by a stratagem of war, stirred up these women, enemies
of the gods, to seize upon our treasury and the funds whereby I
lived.[434] Is it not a sin and a shame for them to interfere in advising
the citizens, to prate of shields and lances, and to ally themselves with
Laconians, fellows I trust no more than I would so many famished wolves?
The whole thing, my friends, is nothing else but an attempt to
re-establish Tyranny. But I will never submit; I will be on my guard for
the future; I will always carry a blade hidden under myrtle boughs; I
will post myself in the Public Square under arms, shoulder to shoulder
with Aristogiton;[435] and now, to make a start, I must just break a few
of that cursed old jade's teeth yonder.

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Nay, never play the brave man, else when you go back
home, your own mother won't know you. But, dear friends and allies, first
let us lay our burdens down; then, citizens all, hear what I have to say.
I have useful counsel to give our city, which deserves it well at my
hands for the brilliant distinctions it has lavished on my girlhood. At
seven years of age, I was bearer of the sacred vessels; at ten, I pounded
barley for the altar of Athené; next, clad in a robe of yellow silk, I
was _little bear_ to Artemis at the Brauronia;[436] presently, grown a
tall, handsome maiden, they put a necklace of dried figs about my neck,
and I was Basket-Bearer.[437] So surely I am bound to give my best advice
to Athens. What matters that I was born a woman, if I can cure your
misfortunes? I pay my share of tolls and taxes, by giving men to the
State. But you, you miserable greybeards, you contribute nothing to the
public charges; on the contrary, you have wasted the treasure of our
forefathers, as it was called, the treasure amassed in the days of the
Persian Wars.[438] You pay nothing at all in return; and into the bargain
you endanger our lives and liberties by your mistakes. Have you one word
to say for yourselves? ... Ah! don't irritate me, you there, or I'll lay
my slipper across your jaws; and it's pretty heavy.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Outrage upon outrage! things are going from bad to
worse. Let us punish the minxes, every one of us that has a man's
appendages to boast of. Come, off with our tunics, for a man must savour
of manhood; come, my friends, let us strip naked from head to foot.
Courage, I say, we who in our day garrisoned Lipsydrion;[439] let us be
young again, and shake off eld. If we give them the least hold over us,
'tis all up! their audacity will know no bounds! We shall see them
building ships, and fighting sea-fights, like Artemisia;[440] nay, if
they want to mount and ride as cavalry, we had best cashier the knights,
for indeed women excel in riding, and have a fine, firm seat for the
gallop.[441] Just think of all those squadrons of Amazons Micon has
painted for us engaged in hand-to-hand combat with men.[442] Come then,
we must e'en fit collars to all these willing necks.

CHORUS OF WOMEN. By the blessed goddesses, if you anger me, I will let
loose the beast of my evil passions, and a very hailstorm of blows will
set you yelling for help. Come, dames, off tunics, and quick's the word;
women must scent the savour of women in the throes of passion.... Now
just you dare to measure strength with me, old greybeard, and I warrant
you you'll never eat garlic or black beans more. No, not a word! my anger
is at boiling point, and I'll do with you what the beetle did with the
eagle's eggs.[443] I laugh at your threats, so long as I have on my side
Lampito here, and the noble Theban, my dear Ismenia.... Pass decree on
decree, you can do us no hurt, you wretch abhorred of all your fellows.
Why, only yesterday, on occasion of the feast of Hecaté, I asked my
neighbours of Boeotia for one of their daughters for whom my girls have a
lively liking--a fine, fat eel to wit; and if they did not refuse, all
along of your silly decrees! We shall never cease to suffer the like,
till someone gives you a neat trip-up and breaks your neck for you!

CHORUS OF WOMEN (_addressing Lysistrata_). You, Lysistrata, you who are
leader of our glorious enterprise, why do I see you coming towards me
with so gloomy an air?

LYSISTRATA. 'Tis the behaviour of these naughty women, 'tis the female
heart and female weakness so discourages me.

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Tell us, tell us, what is it?

LYSISTRATA. I only tell the simple truth.

CHORUS OF WOMEN. What has happened so disconcerting; come, tell your
friends.

LYSISTRATA. Oh! the thing is so hard to tell--yet so impossible to
conceal.

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Nay, never seek to hide any ill that has befallen our
cause.

LYSISTRATA. To blurt it out in a word--we are in heat!

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Oh! Zeus, oh! Zeus!

LYSISTRATA. What use calling upon Zeus? The thing is even as I say. I
cannot stop them any longer from lusting after the men. They are all for
deserting. The first I caught was slipping out by the postern gate near
the cave of Pan; another was letting herself down by a rope and pulley; a
third was busy preparing her escape; while a fourth, perched on a bird's
back, was just taking wing for Orsilochus' house,[444] when I seized her
by the hair. One and all, they are inventing excuses to be off home.
Look! there goes one, trying to get out! Halloa there! whither away so
fast?

FIRST WOMAN. I want to go home; I have some Miletus wool in the house,
which is getting all eaten up by the worms.

LYSISTRATA. Bah! you and your worms! go back, I say!

FIRST WOMAN. I will return immediately, I swear I will by the two
goddesses! I only have just to spread it out on the bed.

LYSISTRATA. You shall not do anything of the kind! I say, you shall not
go.

FIRST WOMAN. Must I leave my wool to spoil then?

LYSISTRATA. Yes, if need be.

SECOND WOMAN. Unhappy woman that I am! Alas for my flax! I've left it at
home unstript!

LYSISTRATA. So, here's another trying to escape to go home and strip her
flax forsooth!

SECOND WOMAN. Oh! I swear by the goddess of light, the instant I have put
it in condition I will come straight back.

LYSISTRATA. You shall do nothing of the kind! If once you began, others
would want to follow suit.

THIRD WOMAN. Oh! goddess divine, Ilithyia, patroness of women in labour,
stay, stay the birth, till I have reached a spot less hallowed than
Athene's Mount!

LYSISTRATA. What mean you by these silly tales?

THIRD WOMAN. I am going to have a child--now, this minute.

LYSISTRATA. But you were not pregnant yesterday!

THIRD WOMAN. Well, I am to-day. Oh! let me go in search of the midwife,
Lysistrata, quick, quick!

LYSISTRATA. What is this fable you are telling me? Ah! what have you got
there so hard?

THIRD WOMAN. A male child.

LYSISTRATA. No, no, by Aphrodité! nothing of the sort! Why, it feels like
something hollow--a pot or a kettle. Oh! you baggage, if you have not got
the sacred helmet of Pallas--and you said you were with child!

THIRD WOMAN. And so I am, by Zeus, I am!

LYSISTRATA. Then why this helmet, pray?

THIRD WOMAN. For fear my pains should seize me in the Acropolis; I mean
to lay my eggs in this helmet, as the doves do.

LYSISTRATA. Excuses and pretences every word! the thing's as clear as
daylight. Anyway, you must stay here now till the fifth day, your day of
purification.

THIRD WOMAN. I cannot sleep any more in the Acropolis, now I have seen
the snake that guards the Temple.

FOURTH WOMAN. Ah! and those confounded owls with their dismal hooting! I
cannot get a wink of rest, and I'm just dying of fatigue.

LYSISTRATA. You wicked women, have done with your falsehoods! You want
your husbands, that's plain enough. But don't you think they want you
just as badly? They are spending dreadful nights, oh! I know that well
enough. But hold out, my dears, hold out! A little more patience, and the
victory will be ours. An Oracle promises us success, if only we remain
united. Shall I repeat the words?

FIRST WOMAN. Yes, tell us what the Oracle declares.

LYSISTRATA. Silence then! Now--"Whenas the swallows, fleeing before the
hoopoes, shall have all flocked together in one place, and shall refrain
them from all amorous commerce, then will be the end of all the ills of
life; yea, and Zeus, which doth thunder in the skies, shall set above
what was erst below...."

CHORUS OF WOMEN. What! shall the men be underneath?

LYSISTRATA. "But if dissension do arise among the swallows, and they take
wing from the holy Temple, 'twill be said there is never a more wanton
bird in all the world."

CHORUS OF WOMEN. Ye gods! the prophecy is clear. Nay, never let us be
cast down by calamity! let us be brave to bear, and go back to our posts.
'Twere shameful indeed not to trust the promises of the Oracle.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN. I want to tell you a fable they used to relate to me
when I was a little boy. This is it: Once upon a time there was a young
man called Melanion, who hated the thought of marriage so sorely that he
fled away to the wilds. So he dwelt in the mountains, wove himself nets,
kept a dog and caught hares. He never, never came back, he had such a
horror of women. As chaste as Melanion,[445] we loathe the jades just as
much as he did.

AN OLD MAN. You dear old woman, I would fain kiss you.

A WOMAN. I will set you crying without onions.

OLD MAN. ... And give you a sound kicking.

OLD WOMAN. Ah, ha! what a dense forest you have there! (_Pointing._)

OLD MAN. So was Myronides one of the best-bearded of men o' this side;
his backside was all black, and he terrified his enemies as much as
Phormio.[446]

CHORUS OF WOMEN. I want to tell you a fable too, to match yours about
Melanion. Once there was a certain man called Timon,[447] a tough
customer, and a whimsical, a true son of the Furies, with a face that
seemed to glare out of a thorn-bush. He withdrew from the world because
he couldn't abide bad men, after vomiting a thousand curses at 'em. He
had a holy horror of ill-conditioned fellows, but he was mighty tender
towards women.

A WOMAN. Suppose I up and broke your jaw for you!

AN OLD MAN. I am not a bit afraid of you.

A WOMAN. Suppose I let fly a good kick at you?

OLD MAN. I should see your backside then.

WOMAN. You would see that, for all my age, it is very well attended to,
and all fresh singed smooth.

LYSISTRATA. Ho there! come quick, come quick!

FIRST WOMAN. What is it? Why these cries?

LYSISTRATA. A man! a man! I see him approaching all afire with the flames
of love. Oh! divine Queen of Cyprus, Paphos and Cythera, I pray you still
be propitious to our emprise.

FIRST WOMAN. Where is he, this unknown foe?

LYSISTRATA. Yonder--beside the Temple of Demeter.

FIRST WOMAN. Yes, indeed, I see him; but who is it?

LYSISTRATA. Look, look! does any of you recognize him?

FIRST WOMAN. I do, I do! 'tis my husband Cinesias.

LYSISTRATA. To work then! Be it your task to inflame and torture and
torment him. Seductions, caresses, provocations, refusals, try every
means! Grant every favour,--always excepting what is forbidden by our
oath on the wine-bowl.

MYRRHINÉ. Have no fear, I undertake the work.

LYSISTRATA. Well, I will stay here to help you cajole the man and set his
passions aflame. The rest of you, withdraw.

CINESIAS. Alas! alas! how I am tortured by spasm and rigid convulsion!
Oh! I am racked on the wheel!

LYSISTRATA. Who is this that dares to pass our lines?

CINESIAS. It is I.

LYSISTRATA. What, a man?

CINESIAS. Yes, no doubt about it, a man!

LYSISTRATA. Begone!

CINESIAS. But who are you that thus repulses me?

LYSISTRATA. The sentinel of the day.

CINESIAS. By all the gods, call Myrrhiné hither.

LYSISTRATA. Call Myrrhiné hither, quotha? And pray, who are you?

CINESIAS. I am her husband, Cinesias, son of Peon.

LYSISTRATA. Ah! good day, my dear friend. Your name is not unknown
amongst us. Your wife has it for ever on her lips; and she never touches
an egg or an apple without saying: "'Twill be for Cinesias."

CINESIAS. Really and truly?

LYSISTRATA. Yes, indeed, by Aphrodité! And if we fall to talking of men,
quick your wife declares: "Oh! all the rest, they're good for nothing
compared with Cinesias."

CINESIAS. Oh! I beseech you, go and call her to me.

LYSISTRATA. And what will you give me for my trouble?

CINESIAS.

This, if you like (_handling his tool_). I will give you what I have
there!

LYSISTRATA. Well, well, I will tell her to come.

CINESIAS. Quick, oh! be quick! Life has no more charms for me since she
left my house. I am sad, sad, when I go indoors; it all seems so empty;
my victuals have lost their savour. Desire is eating out my heart!

MYRRHINÉ. I love him, oh! I love him; but he won't let himself be loved.
No! I shall not come.

CINESIAS. Myrrhiné, my little darling Myrrhiné, what are you saying? Come
down to me quick.

MYRRHINÉ. No indeed, not I.

CINESIAS. I call you, Myrrhiné, Myrrhiné; will you not come?

MYRRHINÉ. Why should you call me? You do not want me.

CINESIAS. Not want you! Why, my weapon stands stiff with desire!

MYRRHINÉ. Good-bye.

CINESIAS. Oh! Myrrhiné, Myrrhiné, in our child's name, hear me; at any
rate hear the child! Little lad, call your mother.

CHILD. Mammy, mammy, mammy!

CINESIAS. There, listen! Don't you pity the poor child? It's six days now
you've never washed and never fed the child.

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