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LYSISTRATA





Translated from the Greek of



ARISTOPHANES



Illustrations by Norman Lindsay









FOREWORD



_Lysistrata_ is the greatest work by Aristophanes. This blank and rash

statement is made that it may be rejected. But first let it be

understood that I do not mean it is a better written work than the

_Birds_ or the _Frogs_, or that (to descend to the scale of values that

will be naturally imputed to me) it has any more appeal to the

collectors of "curious literature" than the _Ecclesiazusae_ or the

_Thesmophoriazusae_. On the mere grounds of taste I can see an at least

equally good case made out for the _Birds_. That brightly plumaged

fantasy has an aerial wit and colour all its own. But there are certain

works in which a man finds himself at an angle of vision where there is

an especially felicitous union of the aesthetic and emotional elements

which constitute the basic qualities of his uniqueness. We recognize

these works as being welded into a strange unity, as having a

homogeneous texture of ecstasy over them that surpasses any aesthetic

surface of harmonic colour, though that harmony also is understood by

the deeper welling of imagery from the core of creative exaltation. And

I think that this occurs in _Lysistrata_. The intellectual and spiritual

tendrils of the poem are more truly interwoven, the operation of their

centres more nearly unified; and so the work goes deeper into life. It

is his greatest play because of this, because it holds an intimate

perfume of femininity and gives the finest sense of the charm of a

cluster of girls, the sweet sense of their chatter, and the contact of

their bodies, that is to be found before Shakespeare, because that

mocking gaiety we call Aristophanies reaches here its most positive

acclamation of life, vitalizing sex with a deep delight, a rare

happiness of the spirit.



Indeed it is precisely for these reasons that it is _not_ considered

Aristophanes' greatest play.



To take a case which is sufficiently near to the point in question, to

make clear what I mean: the supremacy of _Antony and Cleopatra_ in the

Shakespearean aesthetic is yet jealously disputed, and it seems silly to

the academic to put it up against a work like _Hamlet_. But it is the

comparatively more obvious achievement of _Hamlet_, its surface

intellectuality, which made it the favourite of actors and critics. It

is much more difficult to realize the complex and delicately passionate

edge of the former play's rhythm, its tides of hugely wandering emotion,

the restless, proud, gay, and agonized reaction from life, of the blood,

of the mind, of the heart, which is its unity, than to follow the

relatively straightforward definition of Hamlet's nerves. Not that

anything derogatory to _Hamlet_ or the _Birds_ is intended; but the

value of such works is not enhanced by forcing them into contrast with

other works which cover deeper and wider nexus of aesthetic and

spiritual material. It is the very subtlety of the vitality of such

works as _Antony and Cleopatra_ and _Lysistrata_ that makes it so easy

to undervalue them, to see only a phallic play and political pamphlet in

one, only a chronicle play in a grandiose method in the other. For we

have to be in a highly sensitized condition before we can get to that

subtle point where life and the image mix, and so really perceive the

work at all; whereas we can command the response to a lesser work which

does not call so finely on the full breadth and depth of our spiritual

resources.



I amuse myself at times with the fancy that Homer, Sappho, and

Aristophanes are the inviolable Trinity of poetry, even to the extent of

being reducible to One. For the fiery and lucid directness of Sappho, if

her note of personal lyricism is abstracted, is seen to be an element of

Homer, as is the profoundly balanced humour of Aristophanes, at once

tenderly human and cruelly hard, as of a god to whom all sympathies and

tolerances are known, but who is invulnerable somewhere, who sees from a

point in space where the pressure of earth's fear and pain, and so its

pity, is lifted. It is here that the Shakespearean and Homeric worlds

impinge and merge, not to be separated by any academic classifications.

They meet in this sensitivity equally involved and aloof, sympathetic

and arrogant, suffering and joyous; and in this relation we see

Aristophanes as the forerunner of Shakespeare, his only one. We see also

that the whole present aesthetic of earth is based in Homer. We live and

grow in the world of consciousness bequeathed to us by him; and if we

grow beyond it through deeper Shakespearean ardours, it is because those

beyond are rooted in the broad basis of the Homeric imagination. To

shift that basis is to find the marshes of primitive night and fear

alone beneath the feet: Christianity.



And here we return to the question of the immorality of _Lysistrata_.

First we may inquire: is it possible for a man whose work has so

tremendous a significance in the spiritual development of mankind--and I

do not think anyone nowadays doubts that a work of art is the sole

stabilizing force that exists for life--is it possible for a man who

stands so grandly at head of an immense stream of liberating effort to

write an immoral work? Surely the only enduring moral virtue which can

be claimed is for that which moves to more power, beauty and delight in

the future? The plea that the question of changing customs arises is not

valid, for customs ratified by Aristophanes, by Rabelais, by

Shakespeare, have no right to change. If they have changed, let us try

immediately to return from our disgraceful refinements to the nobler and

more rarefied heights of lyric laughter, tragic intensity, and wit, for

we cannot have the first two without the last. And anyhow, how can a

social custom claim precedence over the undying material of the senses

and the emotions of man, over the very generating forces of life?



How could the humanistic emotions, such as pity, justice, sympathy,

exist save as pacifistic quietings of the desire to slay, to hurt, to

torment. Where the desire to hurt is gone pity ceases to be a

significant, a central emotion. It must of course continue to exist, but

it is displaced in the spiritual hierarchy; and all that moves

courageously, desirously, and vitally into the action of life takes on a

deeper and subtler intention. Lust, then, which on the lower plane was

something to be very frightened of, becomes a symbol of the highest

spirituality. It is right for Paul to be terrified of sex and so to hate

it, because he has so freshly escaped a bestial condition of life that

it threatens to plunge him back if he listens to one whisper But it is

also right for a Shakespeare to suck every drop of desire from life,

for he is building into a higher condition, one self-willed,

self-responsible, the discipline of which comes from joy, not fear.



Sex, therefore, is an animal function, one admits, one insists; it may

be only that. But also in the bewildering and humorous and tragic

duality of all life's energies, it is the bridge to every eternity which

is not merely a spectral condition of earth disembowelled of its lusts.

For sex holds the substance of the image. But we must remember with

Heine that Aristophanes is the God of this ironic earth, and that all

argument is apparently vitiated from the start by the simple fact that

Wagner and a rooster are given an analogous method of making love. And

therefore it seems impeccable logic to say that all that is most unlike

the rooster is the most spiritual part of love. All will agree on that,

schisms only arise when one tries to decide what does go farthest from

the bird's automatic mechanism. Certainly not a Dante-Beatrice affair

which is only the negation of the rooster in terms of the swooning

bombast of adolescence, the first onslaught of a force which the

sufferer cannot control or inhabit with all the potentialities of his

body and soul. But the rooster is troubled by no dreams of a divine

orgy, no carnival-loves like Beethoven's _Fourth Symphony_, no heroic

and shining lust gathering and swinging into a merry embrace like the

third act of _Siegfried_. It is desire in this sense that goes farthest

from the animal.



Consciously, no one can achieve the act of love on earth as a completed

thing of grace, with whatever delirium of delight, with whatever

ingenious preciosity, we go through its process. Only as an image of

beauty mated in some strange hermaphroditic ecstasy is that possible. I

mean only as a dream projected into a hypothetical, a real heaven. But

on earth we cannot complete the cycle in consciousness that would give

us the freedom of an image in which two identities mysteriously realize

their separate unities by the absorption of a third thing, the

constructive rhythm of a work of art. It is thus that Tristan and Isolde

become wholly distinct individuals, yet wholly submerged in the unity

that is Wagner; and so reconcile life's duality by balancing its

opposing laughters in a definite form--thereby sending out into life a

profounder duality than existed before. A Platonic equipoise,

Nietzsche's Eternal Recurrence--the only real philosophic problem,

therefore one of which these two philosophers alone are aware.



But though Wagner with Mathilde Wesendonck in his arms was Tristan in

the arms of Isolde, he did not find a melody instead of a kiss on his

lips; he did not find a progression of harmonies melting through the

contours of a warm beauty with a blur of desperate ecstasies, semitones

of desire, he found only the anxious happiness of any other lover.

Nevertheless, he was gathering the substance of the second act of

_Tristan und Isolde_. And it is this that Plato means when he says that

fornication is something immortal in mortality. He does not mean that

the act itself is a godlike thing, a claim which any bedroom mirror

would quickly deride. He means that it is a symbol, an essential

condition, and a part of something that goes deeper into life than any

geometry of earth's absurd, passionate, futile, and very necessary

antics would suggest.



It is a universal fallacy that because works like the comedies of

Aristophanes discuss certain social or ethical problems, they are

inspired by them. Aristophanes wrote to express his vision on life, his

delight in life itself seen behind the warping screen of contemporary

event; and for his purposes anything from Euripides to Cleon served as

ground work. Not that he would think in those terms, naturally: but the

rationalizing process that goes on in consciousness during the creation

of a work of art, for all its appearance of directing matters, is the

merest weathercock in the wind of the subconscious intention. As an

example of how utterly it is possible to misunderstand the springs of

inspiration in a poem, we may take the following remark of B. B. Rogers:

_It is much to be regretted that the phallus element should be so

conspicuous in this play.... (This) coarseness, so repulsive to

ourselves, was introduced, it is impossible to doubt, for the express

purpose of counter-balancing the extreme earnestness and gravity of the

play_. It seems so logical, so irrefutable; and so completely

misinterprets every creative force of Aristophanes' Psyche that it

certainly deserves a little admiration. It is in the best academic

tradition, and everyone respects a man for writing so mendaciously. The

effort of these castrators is always to show that the parts considered

offensive are not the natural expression of the poet, that they are

dictated externally. They argue that Shakespeare's coarseness is the

result of the age and not personal predilection, completely ignoring the

work of men like Sir Philip Sidney and Spenser, indeed practically all

the pre-Shakespearean writers, in whom none of this so-called grossness

exists. Shakespeare wrote sculduddery because he liked it, and for no

other reason; his sensuality is the measure of his vitality. These liars

pretend similarly that because Rabelais had a humanistic reason for much

of his work--the destructior Mediaevalism, and the Church, which purpose

they construe of course as an effort to purify, etc.--therefore he only

put the lewdery to make the rest palatable, when it should be obvious

even to an academic how he glories in his wild humour.



What the academic cannot understand is that in such works, while

attacking certain conditions, the creative power of the vigorous spirits

is so great that it overflows and saturates the intellectual conception

with their own passionate sense of life. It is for this reason that

these works have an eternal significance. If Rabelais were merely a

social reformer, then the value of his work would not have outlived his

generation. If _Lysistrata_ were but a wise political tract, it would

have merely an historical interest, and it would have ceased spiritually

at 404 B.C.



But Panurge is as fantastic and fascinating a character now as he was

300 years ago, Lysistrata and her girls as freshly bodied as any girl

kissed to-day. Therefore the serious part of the play is that which

deals with them, the frivolous part that in which Rogers detects gravity

and earnestness.



Aristophanes is the lord of all who take life as a gay adventure, who

defy all efforts to turn life into a social, economic, or moral

abstraction. Is it therefore just that the critics who, by some dark

instinct, unerringly pick out the exact opposite of any creator's real

virtues as his chief characteristics, should praise him as an idealistic

reformer? An "ideal" state of society was the last thing Aristophanes

desired. He wished, certainly, to eliminate inhumanities and baseness;

but only that there might be free play for laughter, for individual

happiness.



Consequently the critics lay the emphasis on the effort to cleanse

society, not the method of laughter. Aristophanes wished to destroy

Cleon because that demagogue failed to realize the poet's conception of

dignified government and tended to upset the stability of Hellas. But it

was the stability of life, the vindication of all individual freedoms,

in which he was ultimately interested.



JACK LINDSAY.





       *       *       *       *       *





LYSISTRATA



The Persons of the drama.



LYSISTRATA

CALONICE

MYRRHINE

LAMPITO

Stratyllis, etc.

Chorus of Women.

MAGISTRATE

CINESIAS

SPARTAN HERALD

ENVOYS

ATHENIANS

Porter, Market Idlers, etc.

Chorus of old Men.





LYSISTRATA _stands alone with the Propylaea at her back._





LYSISTRATA



If they were trysting for a Bacchanal,

A feast of Pan or Colias or Genetyllis,

The tambourines would block the rowdy streets,

But now there's not a woman to be seen

Except--ah, yes--this neighbour of mine yonder.



_Enter_ CALONICE.



Good day Calonice.



CALONICE



Good day Lysistrata.

But what has vexed you so? Tell me, child.

What are these black looks for? It doesn't suit you

To knit your eyebrows up glumly like that.



LYSISTRATA



Calonice, it's more than I can bear,

I am hot all over with blushes for our sex.

Men say we're slippery rogues--



CALONICE



And aren't they right?



LYSISTRATA



Yet summoned on the most tremendous business

For deliberation, still they snuggle in bed.



CALONICE



My dear, they'll come. It's hard for women, you know,

To get away. There's so much to do;

Husbands to be patted and put in good tempers:

Servants to be poked out: children washed

Or soothed with lullays or fed with mouthfuls of pap.



LYSISTRATA



But I tell you, here's a far more weighty object.



CALONICE



What is it all about, dear Lysistrata,

That you've called the women hither in a troop?

What kind of an object is it?



LYSISTRATA



A tremendous thing!



CALONICE



And long?



LYSISTRATA



Indeed, it may be very lengthy.



CALONICE



Then why aren't they here?



LYSISTRATA



No man's connected with it;

If that was the case, they'd soon come fluttering along.

No, no. It concerns an object I've felt over

And turned this way and that for sleepless nights.



CALONICE



It must be fine to stand such long attention.



LYSISTRATA



So fine it comes to this--Greece saved by Woman!



CALONICE



By Woman? Wretched thing, I'm sorry for it.



LYSISTRATA



Our country's fate is henceforth in our hands:

To destroy the Peloponnesians root and branch--



CALONICE



What could be nobler!



LYSISTRATA



Wipe out the Boeotians--



CALONICE



Not utterly. Have mercy on the eels!

[Footnote: The Boeotian eels were highly esteemed delicacies in Athens.]



LYSISTRATA



But with regard to Athens, note I'm careful

Not to say any of these nasty things;

Still, thought is free.... But if the women join us

From Peloponnesus and Boeotia, then

Hand in hand we'll rescue Greece.



CALONICE



How could we do

Such a big wise deed? We women who dwell

Quietly adorning ourselves in a back-room

With gowns of lucid gold and gawdy toilets

Of stately silk and dainty little slippers....



LYSISTRATA



These are the very armaments of the rescue.

These crocus-gowns, this outlay of the best myrrh,

Slippers, cosmetics dusting beauty, and robes

With rippling creases of light.



CALONICE



Yes, but how?



LYSISTRATA



No man will lift a lance against another--



CALONICE



I'll run to have my tunic dyed crocus.



LYSISTRATA



Or take a shield--



CALONICE



I'll get a stately gown.



LYSISTRATA



Or unscabbard a sword--



CALONICE



Let me buy a pair of slipper.



LYSISTRATA



Now, tell me, are the women right to lag?



CALONICE



They should have turned birds, they should have grown

wings and flown.



LYSISTRATA



My friend, you'll see that they are true Athenians:

Always too late. Why, there's not a woman

From the shoreward demes arrived, not one from Salamis.



CALONICE



I know for certain they awoke at dawn,

And got their husbands up if not their boat sails.



LYSISTRATA



And I'd have staked my life the Acharnian dames

Would be here first, yet they haven't come either!



CALONICE



Well anyhow there is Theagenes' wife

We can expect--she consulted Hecate.

But look, here are some at last, and more behind them.

See ... where are they from?



CALONICE



From Anagyra they come.



LYSISTRATA



Yes, they generally manage to come first.



_Enter_ MYRRHINE.



MYRRHINE



Are we late, Lysistrata? ... What is that?

Nothing to say?



LYSISTRATA



I've not much to say for you,

Myrrhine, dawdling on so vast an affair.



MYRRHINE



I couldn't find my girdle in the dark.

But if the affair's so wonderful, tell us, what is it?



LYSISTRATA



No, let us stay a little longer till

The Peloponnesian girls and the girls of Bocotia

Are here to listen.



MYRRHINE



That's the best advice.

Ah, there comes Lampito.



_Enter_ LAMPITO.



LYSISTRATA



Welcome Lampito!

Dear Spartan girl with a delightful face,

Washed with the rosy spring, how fresh you look

In the easy stride of your sleek slenderness,

Why you could strangle a bull!



LAMPITO



I think I could.

It's frae exercise and kicking high behint.



[Footnote: The translator has put the speech of the Spartan characters

in Scotch dialect which is related to English about as was the Spartan

dialect to the speech of Athens. The Spartans, in their character,

anticipated the shrewd, canny, uncouth Scotch highlander of modern

times.]



LYSISTRATA



What lovely breasts to own!



LAMPITO



Oo ... your fingers

Assess them, ye tickler, wi' such tender chucks

I feel as if I were an altar-victim.



LYSISTRATA



Who is this youngster?



LAMPITO



A Boeotian lady.



LYSISTRATA



There never was much undergrowth in Boeotia,

Such a smooth place, and this girl takes after it.



CALONICE



Yes, I never saw a skin so primly kept.



LYSISTRATA



This girl?



LAMPITO



A sonsie open-looking jinker!

She's a Corinthian.



LYSISTRATA



Yes, isn't she

Very open, in some ways particularly.



LAMPITO



But who's garred this Council o' Women to meet here?



LYSISTRATA



I have.



LAMPITO



Propound then what you want o' us.



MYRRHINE



What is the amazing news you have to tell?



LYSISTRATA



I'll tell you, but first answer one small question.



MYRRHINE



As you like.



LYSISTRATA



Are you not sad your children's fathers

Go endlessly off soldiering afar

In this plodding war? I am willing to wager

There's not one here whose husband is at home.



CALONICE



Mine's been in Thrace, keeping an eye on Eucrates

For five months past.



MYRRHINE



And mine left me for Pylos

Seven months ago at least.



LAMPITO



And as for mine

No sooner has he slipped out frae the line

He straps his shield and he's snickt off again.



LYSISTRATA



And not the slightest glitter of a lover!

And since the Milesians betrayed us, I've not seen

The image of a single upright man

To be a marble consolation to us.

Now will you help me, if I find a means

To stamp the war out.



MYRRHINE



By the two Goddesses, Yes!

I will though I've to pawn this very dress

And drink the barter-money the same day.



CALONICE



And I too though I'm split up like a turbot

And half is hackt off as the price of peace.



LAMPITO



And I too! Why, to get a peep at the shy thing

I'd clamber up to the tip-top o' Taygetus.



LYSISTRATA



Then I'll expose my mighty mystery.

O women, if we would compel the men

To bow to Peace, we must refrain--



MYRRHINE



From what?

O tell us!



LYSISTRATA



Will you truly do it then?



MYRRHINE



We will, we will, if we must die for it.



LYSISTRATA



We must refrain from every depth of love....

Why do you turn your backs? Where are you going?

Why do you bite your lips and shake your heads?

Why are your faces blanched? Why do you weep?

Will you or won't you, or what do you mean?



MYRRHINE



No, I won't do it. Let the war proceed.



CALONICE



No, I won't do it. Let the war proceed.



LYSISTRATA



You too, dear turbot, you that said just now

You didn't mind being split right up in the least?



CALONICE



Anything else? O bid me walk in fire

But do not rob us of that darling joy.

What else is like it, dearest Lysistrata?



LYSISTRATA



And you?



MYRRHINE



O please give me the fire instead.



LYSISTRATA



Lewd to the least drop in the tiniest vein,

Our sex is fitly food for Tragic Poets,

Our whole life's but a pile of kisses and babies.

But, hardy Spartan, if you join with me

All may be righted yet. O help me, help me.



LAMPITO



It's a sair, sair thing to ask of us, by the Twa,

A lass to sleep her lane and never fill

Love's lack except wi' makeshifts.... But let it be.

Peace maun be thought of first.



LYSISTRATA



My friend, my friend!

The only one amid this herd of weaklings.



CALONICE



But if--which heaven forbid--we should refrain

As you would have us, how is Peace induced?



LYSISTRATA



By the two Goddesses, now can't you see

All we have to do is idly sit indoors

With smooth roses powdered on our cheeks,

Our bodies burning naked through the folds

Of shining Amorgos' silk, and meet the men

With our dear Venus-plats plucked trim and neat.

Their stirring love will rise up furiously,

They'll beg our arms to open. That's our time!

We'll disregard their knocking, beat them off--

And they will soon be rabid for a Peace.

I'm sure of it.



LAMPITO



          Just as Menelaus, they say,

Seeing the bosom of his naked Helen

Flang down the sword.



CALONICE



               But we'll be tearful fools

If our husbands take us at our word and leave us.



LYSISTRATA



There's only left then, in Pherecrates' phrase,

_To flay a skinned dog_--flay more our flayed desires.



CALONICE



Bah, proverbs will never warm a celibate.

But what avail will your scheme be if the men

Drag us for all our kicking on to the couch?



LYSISTRATA



Cling to the doorposts.



CALONICE



               But if they should force us?



LYSISTRATA



Yield then, but with a sluggish, cold indifference.

There is no joy to them in sullen mating.

Besides we have other ways to madden them;

They cannot stand up long, and they've no delight

Unless we fit their aim with merry succour.



CALONICE



Well if you must have it so, we'll all agree.



LAMPITO



For us I ha' no doubt. We can persuade

Our men to strike a fair an' decent Peace,

But how will ye pitch out the battle-frenzy

O' the Athenian populace?



LYSISTRATA



I promise you

We'll wither up that curse.



LAMPITO



I don't believe it.

Not while they own ane trireme oared an' rigged,

Or a' those stacks an' stacks an' stacks O' siller.



LYSISTRATA



I've thought the whole thing out till there's no flaw.

We shall surprise the Acropolis today:

That is the duty set the older dames.

While we sit here talking, they are to go

And under pretence of sacrificing, seize it.



LAMPITO



Certie, that's fine; all's working for the best.



LYSISTRATA



Now quickly, Lampito, let us tie ourselves

To this high purpose as tightly as the hemp of words

Can knot together.



LAMPITO



Set out the terms in detail

And we'll a' swear to them.



LYSISTRATA



Of course.... Well then

Where is our Scythianess? Why are you staring?

First lay the shield, boss downward, on the floor

And bring the victim's inwards.



CAILONICE



But, Lysistrata,

What is this oath that we're to swear?



LYSISTRATA



What oath!

In Aeschylus they take a slaughtered sheep

And swear upon a buckler. Why not we?



CALONICE



O Lysistrata, Peace sworn on a buckler!



LYSISTRATA



What oath would suit us then?



CALONICE



Something burden bearing

Would be our best insignia.... A white horse!

Let's swear upon its entrails.



LYSISTRATA



A horse indeed!



CALONICE



Then what will symbolise us?



LYSISTRATA



This, as I tell you--

First set a great dark bowl upon the ground

And disembowel a skin of Thasian wine,

Then swear that we'll not add a drop of water.



LAMPITO

  Ah, what aith could clink pleasanter than that!



LYSISTRATA

  Bring me a bowl then and a skin of wine.



CALONICE

  My dears, see what a splendid bowl it is;

  I'd not say No if asked to sip it off.



LYSISTRATA

  Put down the bowl. Lay hands, all, on the victim.

  Skiey Queen who givest the last word in arguments,

  And thee, O Bowl, dear comrade, we beseech:

  Accept our oblation and be propitious to us.



CALONICE

  What healthy blood, la, how it gushes out!



LAMPITO

  An' what a leesome fragrance through the air.



LYSISTRATA

  Now, dears, if you will let me, I'll speak first.



CALONICE

  Only if you draw the lot, by Aphrodite!



LYSISTRATA

  SO, grasp the brim, you, Lampito, and all.

  You, Calonice, repeat for the rest

  Each word I say. Then you must all take oath

  And pledge your arms to the same stern conditions--



LYSISTRATA

  To husband or lover I'll not open arms



CALONICE



_To husband or lover I'll not open arms_



LYSISTRATA



Though love and denial may enlarge his charms.



CALONICE



_Though love and denial may enlarge his charms._

O, O, my knees are failing me, Lysistrata!



LYSISTRATA



But still at home, ignoring him, I'll stay,



CALONICE



_But still at home, ignoring him, I'll stay,_



LYSISTRATA



Beautiful, clad in saffron silks all day.



CALONICE



_Beautiful, clad in saffron silks all day._



LYSISTRATA



If then he seizes me by dint of force,



CALONICE



_If then he seizes me by dint of force,_



LYSISTRATA



I'll give him reason for a long remorse.



CALONICE



_I'll give him reason for a long remorse._



LYSISTRATA



I'll never lie and stare up at the ceiling,



CALONICE



_I'll never lie and stare up at the ceiling,_



LYSISTRATA



Nor like a lion on all fours go kneeling.



CALONICE



_Nor like a lion on all fours go kneeling._



LYSISTRATA



If I keep faith, then bounteous cups be mine.



CALONICE



_If I keep faith, then bounteous cups be mine._



LYSISTRATA



If not, to nauseous water change this wine.



CALONICE

  _If not, to nauseous water change this wine._



LYSISTRATA



Do you all swear to this?



MYRRHINE



We do, we do.



LYSISTRATA



Then I shall immolate the victim thus.

_She drinks._



CALONICE



Here now, share fair, haven't we made a pact?

Let's all quaff down that friendship in our turn.



LAMPITO



Hark, what caterwauling hubbub's that?



LYSISTRATA



As I told you,

The women have appropriated the citadel.

So, Lampito, dash off to your own land

And raise the rebels there. These will serve as hostages,

While we ourselves take our places in the ranks

And drive the bolts right home.



CALONICE



But won't the men

March straight against us?



LYSISTRATA



And what if they do?

No threat shall creak our hinges wide, no torch

Shall light a fear in us; we will come out

To Peace alone.



CALONICE



That's it, by Aphrodite!

As of old let us seem hard and obdurate.



LAMPITO _and some go off; the others go up into the Acropolis._



_Chorus of_ OLD MEN _enter to attack the captured Acropolis_.



Make room, Draces, move ahead; why your shoulder's chafed, I see,

With lugging uphill these lopped branches of the olive-tree.

How upside-down and wrong-way-round a long life sees things grow.

Ah, Strymodorus, who'd have thought affairs could tangle so?



The women whom at home we fed,

Like witless fools, with fostering bread,

Have impiously come to this--

They've stolen the Acropolis,

With bolts and bars our orders flout

And shut us out.



Come, Philurgus, bustle thither; lay our faggots on the ground,

In neat stacks beleaguering the insurgents all around;

And the vile conspiratresses, plotters of such mischief dire,

Pile and burn them all together in one vast and righteous pyre:

Fling with our own hands Lycon's wife to fry in the thickest fire.

By Demeter, they'll get no brag while I've a vein to beat!

Cleomenes himself was hurtled out in sore defeat.

His stiff-backed Spartan pride was bent.

Out, stripped of all his arms, he went:

A pigmy cloak that would not stretch

To hide his rump (the draggled wretch),

Six sprouting years of beard, the spilth

Of six years' filth.



That was a siege! Our men were ranged in lines of seventeen deep

Before the gates, and never left their posts there, even to sleep.

Shall I not smite the rash presumption then of foes like these,

Detested both of all the gods and of Euripides--

Else, may the Marathon-plain not boast my trophied victories!



Ah, now, there's but a little space

To reach the place!

A deadly climb it is, a tricky road

With all this bumping load:

A pack-ass soon would tire....

How these logs bruise my shoulders! further still

Jog up the hill,

And puff the fire inside,

Or just as we reach the top we'll find it's died.

Ough, phew!

I choke with the smoke.



Lord Heracles, how acrid-hot

Out of the pot

This mad-dog smoke leaps, worrying me

And biting angrily....

'Tis Lemnian fire that smokes,

Or else it would not sting my eyelids thus....

Haste, all of us;

Athene invokes our aid.

Laches, now or never the assault must be made!

Ough, phew!

I choke with the smoke. ..



Thanked be the gods! The fire peeps up and crackles as it should.

Now why not first slide off our backs these weary loads of wood

And dip a vine-branch in the brazier till it glows, then straight

Hurl it at the battering-ram against the stubborn gate?

If they refuse to draw the bolts in immediate compliance,

We'll set fire to the wood, and smoke will strangle their defiance.



Phew, what a spluttering drench of smoke! Come, now from off my back....

Is there no Samos-general to help me to unpack?

Ah there, that's over! For the last time now it's galled my shoulder.

Flare up thine embers, brazier, and dutifully smoulder,

To kindle a brand, that I the first may strike the citadel.

Aid me, Lady Victory, that a triumph-trophy may tell

How we did anciently this insane audacity quell!



_Chorus of_ WOMEN.



What's that rising yonder? That ruddy glare, that smoky skurry?

O is it something in a blaze? Quick, quick, my comrades, hurry!

Nicodice, helter-skelter!

Or poor Calyce's in flames

And Cratylla's stifled in the welter.

O these dreadful old men

And their dark laws of hate!

There, I'm all of a tremble lest I turn out to be too late.

I could scarcely get near to the spring though I rose before dawn,

What with tattling of tongues and rattling of pitchers in one jostling din

With slaves pushing in!....



Still here at last the water's drawn

And with it eagerly I run

To help those of my friends who stand

In danger of being burned alive.

For I am told a dribbling band

Of greybeards hobble to the field,

Great faggots in each palsied hand,

As if a hot bath to prepare,

And threatening that out they'll drive

These wicked women or soon leave them charring into ashes

there.

O Goddess, suffer not, I pray, this harsh deed to be done,

But show us Greece and Athens with their warlike acts repealed!

For this alone, in this thy hold,

Thou Goddess with the helm of gold,

We laid hands on thy sanctuary,

Athene.... Then our ally be

And where they cast their fires of slaughter

Direct our water!



STRATYLLIS (_caught_)



Let me go!



WOMEN



You villainous old men, what's this you do?

No honest man, no pious man, could do such things as you.



MEN



Ah ha, here's something most original, I have no doubt:

A swarm of women sentinels to man the walls without.



WOMEN



So then we scare you, do we? Do we seem a fearful host?

You only see the smallest fraction mustered at this post.



MEN



Ho, Phaedrias, shall we put a stop to all these chattering tricks?

Suppose that now upon their backs we splintered these our sticks?



WOMEN



Let us lay down the pitchers, so our bodies will be free,

  In case these lumping fellows try to cause some injury.



MEN



O hit them hard and hit again and hit until they run away,

And perhaps they'll learn, like Bupalus, not to have too much to say.



WOMEN



Come on, then--do it! I won't budge, but like a dog I'll bite

At every little scrap of meat that dangles in my sight.



MEN



Be quiet, or I'll bash you out of any years to come.



WOMEN



Now you just touch Stratyllis with the top-joint of your thumb.



MEN



What vengeance can you take if with my fists your face I beat?



WOMEN



I'll rip you with my teeth and strew your entrails at your feet.



MEN



Now I appreciate Euripides' strange subtlety:

Woman is the most shameless beast of all the beasts that be.



WOMEN



Rhodippe, come, and let's pick up our water-jars once more.



MEN



Ah cursed drab, what have you brought this water for?



WOMEN



What is your fire for then, you smelly corpse? Yourself to burn?



MEN



To build a pyre and make your comrades ready for the urn.



WOMEN



And I've the water to put out your fire immediately.



MEN



What, you put out my fire?



WOMEN



Yes, sirrah, as you soon will see.



MEN



I don't know why I hesitate to roast you with this flame.



WOMEN



If you have any soap you'll go off cleaner than you came.



MEN



Cleaner, you dirty slut?



WOMEN



A nuptial-bath in which to lie!



MEN



Did you hear that insolence?



WOMEN



I'm a free woman, I.



MEN



I'll make you hold your tongue.



WOMEN



Henceforth you'll serve in no more juries.



MEN



Burn off her hair for her.



WOMEN



Now forward, water, quench their furies!



MEN



O dear, O dear!



WOMEN



So ... was it hot?



MEN



Hot! ... Enough, O hold.



WOMEN



Watered, perhaps you'll bloom again--why not?



MEN



Brrr, I'm wrinkled up from shivering with cold.



WOMEN



Next time you've fire you'll warm yourself and leave us to our lot.



MAGISTRATE _enters with attendant_ SCYTHIANS.



MAGISTRATE



Have the luxurious rites of the women glittered

Their libertine show, their drumming tapped out crowds,

The Sabazian Mysteries summoned their mob,

Adonis been wept to death on the terraces,

As I could hear the last day in the Assembly?

For Demostratus--let bad luck befoul him--

Was roaring, "We must sail for Sicily,"

While a woman, throwing herself about in a dance

Lopsided with drink, was shrilling out "Adonis,

Woe for Adonis." Then Demostratus shouted,

"We must levy hoplites at Zacynthus,"

And there the woman, up to the ears in wine,

Was screaming "Weep for Adonis" on the house-top,

The scoundrelly politician, that lunatic ox,

Bellowing bad advice through tipsy shrieks:

Such are the follies wantoning in them.



MEN



O if you knew their full effrontery!

All of the insults they've done, besides sousing us

With water from their pots to our public disgrace

For we stand here wringing our clothes like grown-up infants.



MAGISTRATE



By Poseidon, justly done! For in part with us

The blame must lie for dissolute behaviour

And for the pampered appetites they learn.

Thus grows the seedling lust to blossoming:

We go into a shop and say, "Here, goldsmith,

You remember the necklace that you wrought my wife;

Well, the other night in fervour of a dance

Her clasp broke open. Now I'm off for Salamis;

If you've the leisure, would you go tonight

And stick a bolt-pin into her opened clasp."

Another goes to a cobbler; a soldierly fellow,

Always standing up erect, and says to him,

"Cobbler, a sandal-strap of my wife's pinches her,

Hurts her little toe in a place where she's sensitive.

Come at noon and see if you can stretch out wider

This thing that troubles her, loosen its tightness."

And so you view the result. Observe my case--

I, a magistrate, come here to draw

Money to buy oar-blades, and what happens?

The women slam the door full in my face.

But standing still's no use. Bring me a crowbar,

And I'll chastise this their impertinence.

What do you gape at, wretch, with dazzled eyes?

Peering for a tavern, I suppose.

Come, force the gates with crowbars, prise them apart!

I'll prise away myself too.... (LYSISTRATA _appears._)



LYSISTRATA



Stop this banging.

I'm coming of my own accord.... Why bars?

It is not bars we need but common sense.



MAGISTRATE



Indeed, you slut! Where is the archer now?

Arrest this woman, tie her hands behind.



LYSISTRATA



If he brushes me with a finger, by Artemis,

The public menial, he'll be sorry for it.



MAGISTRATE



Are you afraid? Grab her about the middle.

Two of you then, lay hands on her and end it.



CALONICE



By Pandrosos I if your hand touches her

I'll spread you out and trample on your guts.



MAGISTRATE



My guts! Where is the other archer gone?

Bind that minx there who talks so prettily.



MYRRHINE



By Phosphor, if your hand moves out her way

You'd better have a surgeon somewhere handy.



MAGISTRATE



You too! Where is that archer? Take that woman.

I'll put a stop to these surprise-parties.



STRATYLLIS



By the Tauric Artemis, one inch nearer

My fingers, and it's a bald man that'll be yelling.



MAGISTRATE



Tut tut, what's here? Deserted by my archers....

But surely women never can defeat us;

Close up your ranks, my Scythians. Forward at them.



LYSISTRATA



By the Goddesses, you'll find that here await you

Four companies of most pugnacious women

Armed cap-a-pie from the topmost louring curl

To the lowest angry dimple.



MAGISTRATE



On, Scythians, bind them.



LYSISTRATA



On, gallant allies of our high design,

Vendors of grain-eggs-pulse-and-vegetables,

Ye garlic-tavern-keepers of bakeries,

Strike, batter, knock, hit, slap, and scratch our foes,

Be finely imprudent, say what you think of them....

Enough! retire and do not rob the dead.



MAGISTRATE



How basely did my archer-force come off.



LYSISTRATA



Ah, ha, you thought it was a herd of slaves

You had to tackle, and you didn't guess

The thirst for glory ardent in our blood.



MAGISTRATE



By Apollo, I know well the thirst that heats you--

Especially when a wine-skin's close.



MEN



You waste your breath, dear magistrate, I fear, in answering back.

What's the good of argument with such a rampageous pack?

Remember how they washed us down (these very clothes I wore)

With water that looked nasty and that smelt so even more.



WOMEN



What else to do, since you advanced too dangerously nigh.

If you should do the same again, I'll punch you in the eye.

Though I'm a stay-at-home and most a quiet life enjoy,

Polite to all and every (for I'm naturally coy),

Still if you wake a wasps' nest then of wasps you must beware.



MEN



How may this ferocity be tamed? It grows too great to bear.

Let us question them and find if they'll perchance declare

The reason why they strangely dare

To seize on Cranaos' citadel,

This eyrie inaccessible,

This shrine above the precipice,

The Acropolis.

Probe them and find what they mean with this idle talk; listen,

but watch they don't try to deceive.

You'd be neglecting your duty most certainly if now this mystery

unplumbed you leave.



MAGISTRATE



Women there! Tell what I ask you, directly....

Come, without rambling, I wish you to state

What's your rebellious intention in barring up thus on our noses

our own temple-gate.



LYSISTRATA



To take first the treasury out of your management, and so stop the war

through the absence of gold.



MAGISTRATE



Is gold then the cause of the war?



LYSISTRATA



Yes, gold caused it and miseries more, too many to be told.

'Twas for money, and money alone, that Pisander with all of the army of

mob-agitators.

Raised up revolutions. But, as for the future, it won't be worth while

to set up to be traitors.

Not an obol they'll get as their loot, not an obol! while we have the

treasure-chest in our command.



MAGISTRATE



What then is that you propose?



LYSISTRATA



Just this--merely to take the exchequer henceforth in hand.



MAGISTRATE



The exchequer!



LYSISTRATA



Yes, why not? Of our capabilities you have had various clear evidences.

Firstly remember we have always administered soundly the budget of all

home-expenses.



MAGISTRATE



But this matter's different.



LYSISTRATA



How is it different?



MAGISTRATE



Why, it deals chiefly with war-time supplies.



LYSISTRATA



But we abolish war straight by our policy.



MAGISTRATE



What will you do if emergencies arise?



LYSISTRATA



Face them our own way.



MAGISTRATE



What _you_ will?



LYSISTRATA



Yes _we_ will!



MAGISTRATE



Then there's no help for it; we're all destroyed.



LYSISTRATA



No, willy-nilly you must be safeguarded.



MAGISTRATE



What madness is this?



LYSISTRATA



Why, it seems you're annoyed.

It must be done, that's all.



MAGISTRATE



Such awful oppression never,

O never in the past yet I bore.



LYSISTRATA



You must be saved, sirrah--that's all there is to it.



MAGISTRATE



If we don't want to be saved?



LYSISTRATA



All the more.



MAGISTRATE



Why do you women come prying and meddling in matters of state touching

war-time and peace?



LYSISTRATA



That I will tell you.



MAGISTRATE



O tell me or quickly I'll--



LYSISTRATA



Hearken awhile and from threatening cease.



MAGISTRATE



I cannot, I cannot; it's growing too insolent.



WOMEN



Come on; you've far more than we have to dread.



MAGISTRATE



Stop from your croaking, old carrion-crow there....

Continue.



LYSISTRATA



Be calm then and I'll go ahead.

All the long years when the hopeless war dragged along we, unassuming,

forgotten in quiet,

Endured without question, endured in our loneliness all your incessant

child's antics and riot.

Our lips we kept tied, though aching with silence, though well all the

while in our silence we knew

How wretchedly everything still was progressing by listening dumbly the

day long to you.

For always at home you continued discussing the war and its politics

loudly, and we

Sometimes would ask you, our hearts deep with sorrowing though we spoke

lightly, though happy to see,

"What's to be inscribed on the side of the Treaty-stone

What, dear, was said in the Assembly today?"

"Mind your own business," he'd answer me growlingly

"hold your tongue, woman, or else go away."

And so I would hold it.



WOMEN



I'd not be silent for any man living on earth, no, not I!



MAGISTRATE



Not for a staff?



LYSISTRATA



Well, so I did nothing but sit in the house, feeling dreary, and sigh,

While ever arrived some fresh tale of decisions more foolish by far and

presaging disaster.

Then I would say to him, "O my dear husband, why still do they rush on

destruction the faster?"

At which he would look at me sideways, exclaiming, "Keep for your web

and your shuttle your care,

Or for some hours hence your cheeks will be sore and hot; leave this

alone, war is Man's sole affair!"



MAGISTRATE



By Zeus, but a man of fine sense, he.



LYSISTRATA



How sensible?

You dotard, because he at no time had lent

His intractable ears to absorb from our counsel one temperate word of

advice, kindly meant?

But when at the last in the streets we heard shouted (everywhere ringing

the ominous cry)

"Is there no one to help us, no saviour in Athens?" and, "No, there is

no one," come back in reply.

At once a convention of all wives through Hellas here for a serious

purpose was held,

To determine how husbands might yet back to wisdom despite their

reluctance in time be compelled.

Why then delay any longer? It's settled. For the future you'll take

up our old occupation.

Now in turn you're to hold tongue, as we did, and listen while we show

the way to recover the nation.



MAGISTRATE



_You_ talk to _us!_ Why, you're mad. I'll not stand it.



LYSISTRATA



Cease babbling, you fool; till I end, hold your tongue.



MAGISTRATE



If I should take orders from one who wears veils, may my

neck straightaway be deservedly wrung.



LYSISTRATA



O if that keeps pestering you,

I've a veil here for your hair,

I'll fit you out in everything

As is only fair.



CALONICE



Here's a spindle that will do.



MYRRHINE



I'll add a wool-basket too.



LYSISTRATA



Girdled now sit humbly at home,

Munching beans, while you card wool and comb. For war from now on

is the Women's affair.



WOMEN.



Come then, down pitchers, all,

And on, courageous of heart,

In our comradely venture

Each taking her due part.



I could dance, dance, dance, and be fresher after,

I could dance away numberless suns,

To no weariness let my knees bend.

Earth I could brave with laughter,

Having such wonderful girls here to friend.

O the daring, the gracious, the beautiful ones!

Their courage unswerving and witty

Will rescue our city.



O sprung from the seed of most valiant-wombed grand-mothers,

scions of savage and dangerous nettles!

Prepare for the battle, all. Gird up your angers. Our way

the wind of sweet victory settles.



LYSISTRATA



O tender Eros and Lady of Cyprus, some flush of beauty I

pray you devise

To flash on our bosoms and, O Aphrodite, rosily gleam on

our valorous thighs!

Joy will raise up its head through the legions warring and

all of the far-serried ranks of mad-love

Bristle the earth to the pillared horizon, pointing in vain to

the heavens above.

I think that perhaps then they'll give us our title--

Peace-makers.



MAGISTRATE



          What do you mean? Please explain.



LYSISTRATA



  First, we'll not see you now flourishing arms about into the

    Marketing-place clang again.



WOMEN

  No, by the Paphian.



LYSISTRATA



Still I can conjure them as past were the herbs stand or crockery's sold

Like Corybants jingling (poor sots) fully armoured, they noisily round

on their promenade strolled.



MAGISTRATE



And rightly; that's discipline, they--



LYSISTRATA



But what's sillier than to go on an errand of buying a fish

Carrying along an immense. Gorgon-buckler instead the usual platter

or dish?

A phylarch I lately saw, mounted on horse-back, dressed for the part

with long ringlets and all,

Stow in his helmet the omelet bought steaming from an old woman who

kept a food-stall.

Nearby a soldier, a Thracian, was shaking wildly his spear like Tereus

in the play,

To frighten a fig-girl while unseen the ruffian filched from her

fruit-trays the ripest away.



MAGISTRATE



How, may I ask, will your rule re-establish order and justice in lands

so tormented?



LYSISTRATA



Nothing is easier.



MAGISTRATE



Out with it speedily--what is this plan that you boast you've invented?



LYSISTRATA



If, when yarn we are winding, It chances to tangle, then, as perchance you

may know, through the skein

This way and that still the spool we keep passing till it is finally clear

all again:

So to untangle the War and its errors, ambassadors out on all sides we will

send

This way and that, here, there and round about--soon you will find that the

War has an end.



MAGISTRATE



So with these trivial tricks of the household, domestic analogies of

threads, skeins and spools,

You think that you'll solve such a bitter complexity, unwind such political

problems, you fools!



LYSISTRATA



Well, first as we wash dirty wool so's to cleanse it, so with a pitiless

zeal we will scrub

Through the whole city for all greasy fellows; burrs too, the parasites,

off we will rub.

That verminous plague of insensate place-seekers soon between thumb and

forefinger we'll crack.

All who inside Athens' walls have their dwelling into one great common

basket we'll pack.

Disenfranchised or citizens, allies or aliens, pell-mell the lot of them

in we will squeeze.

Till they discover humanity's meaning.... As for disjointed and far

colonies,

Them you must never from this time imagine as scattered about just like

lost hanks of wool.

Each portion we'll take and wind in to this centre, inward to Athens

each loyalty pull,

Till from the vast heap where all's piled together at last can be woven

a strong Cloak of State.



MAGISTRATE



How terrible is it to stand here and watch them carding and winding at

will with our fate,

Witless in war as they are.



LYSISTRATA



What of us then, who ever in vain for our children must weep

Borne but to perish afar and in vain?



MAGISTRATE



Not that, O let that one memory sleep!



LYSISTRATA



Then while we should be companioned still merrily, happy as brides may,

the livelong night,

Kissing youth by, we are forced to lie single.... But leave for a moment

our pitiful plight,

It hurts even more to behold the poor maidens helpless wrinkling in

staler virginity.



MAGISTRATE



Does not a man age?



LYSISTRATA



Not in the same way. Not as a woman grows withered, grows he.

He, when returned from the war, though grey-headed, yet

if he wishes can choose out a wife.

But she has no solace save peering for omens, wretched and

lonely the rest of her life.



MAGISTRATE



But the old man will often select--



LYSISTRATA



O why not finish and die?

A bier is easy to buy,

A honey-cake I'll knead you with joy,

This garland will see you are decked.



CALONICE



I've a wreath for you too.



MYRRHINE



I also will fillet you.



LYSISTRATA



What more is lacking? Step aboard the boat.

See, Charon shouts ahoy.

You're keeping him, he wants to shove afloat.



MAGISTRATE



Outrageous insults! Thus my place to flout!

Now to my fellow-magistrates I'll go

And what you've perpetrated on me show.



LYSISTRATA



Why are you blaming us for laying you out?

Assure yourself we'll not forget to make

The third day offering early for your sake.



MAGISTRATE _retires_, LYSISTRATA _returns within_.



OLD MEN.



All men who call your loins your own, awake at last, arise

And strip to stand in readiness. For as it seems to me

Some more perilous offensive in their heads they now devise.

I'm sure a Tyranny

Like that of Hippias

In this I detect....

They mean to put us under

Themselves I suspect,

And that Laconians assembling

At Cleisthenes' house have played

A trick-of-war and provoked them

Madly to raid

The Treasury, in which term I include

The Pay for my food.



For is it not preposterous

They should talk this way to us

On a subject such as battle!



And, women as they are, about bronze bucklers dare prattle--

Make alliance with the Spartans--people I for one

Like very hungry wolves would always most sincere shun....

Some dirty game is up their sleeve,

I believe.

A Tyranny, no doubt... but they won't catch me, that know.

Henceforth on my guard I'll go,

A sword with myrtle-branches wreathed for ever in my hand,

And under arms in the Public Place I'll take my watchful stand,

Shoulder to shoulder with Aristogeiton. Now my staff I'll draw

And start at once by knocking

that shocking

Hag upon the jaw.



WOMEN.



Your own mother will not know you when you get back to the town.

But first, my friends and allies, let us lay these garments down,

And all ye fellow-citizens, hark to me while I tell

What will aid Athens well.

Just as is right, for I

Have been a sharer

In all the lavish splendour

Of the proud city.

I bore the holy vessels

At seven, then

I pounded barley

At the age of ten,

And clad in yellow robes,

Soon after this,

I was Little Bear to

Brauronian Artemis;

Then neckletted with figs,

Grown tall and pretty,

I was a Basket-bearer,

And so it's obvious I should

Give you advice that I think good,

The very best I can.

It should not prejudice my voice that I'm not born a man,

If I say something advantageous to the present situation.

For I'm taxed too, and as a toll provide men for the nation

While, miserable greybeards, you,

It is true,

Contribute nothing of any importance whatever to our needs;

But the treasure raised against the Medes

You've squandered, and do nothing in return, save that you make

Our lives and persons hazardous by some imbecile mistakes

What can you answer? Now be careful, don't arouse my spite,

Or with my slipper I'll take you napping,

faces slapping

Left and right.



MEN.



What villainies they contrive!

Come, let vengeance fall,

You that below the waist are still alive,

Off with your tunics at my call--

Naked, all.

For a man must strip to battle like a man.

No quaking, brave steps taking, careless what's ahead, white shoed,

in the nude, onward bold,

All ye who garrisoned Leipsidrion of old....

Let each one wag

As youthfully as he can,

And if he has the cause at heart

Rise at least a span.



We must take a stand and keep to it,

For if we yield the smallest bit

To their importunity.

Then nowhere from their inroads will be left to us immunity.

But they'll be building ships and soon their navies will attack us,

As Artemisia did, and seek to fight us and to sack us.

And if they mount, the Knights they'll rob

Of a job,

For everyone knows how talented they all are in the saddle,

Having long practised how to straddle;

No matter how they're jogged there up and down, they're never thrown.

Then think of Myron's painting, and each horse-backed Amazon

In combat hand-to-hand with men.... Come, on these women fall,

And in pierced wood-collars let's stick

quick

The necks of one and all.



WOMEN.



Don't cross me or I'll loose

The Beast that's kennelled here....

And soon you will be howling for a truce,

Howling out with fear.

But my dear,

Strip also, that women may battle unhindered....

But you, you'll be too sore to eat garlic more, or one black bean,

I really mean, so great's my spleen, to kick you black and blue

With these my dangerous legs.

I'll hatch the lot of you,

If my rage you dash on,

The way the relentless Beetle

Hatched the Eagle's eggs.



Scornfully aside I set

Every silly old-man threat

While Lampito's with me.

Or dear Ismenia, the noble Theban girl. Then let decree

Be hotly piled upon decree; in vain will be your labours,

You futile rogue abominated by your suffering neighbour

To Hecate's feast I yesterday went--

Off I sent

To our neighbours in Boeotia, asking as a gift to me

For them to pack immediately

That darling dainty thing ... a good fat eel [1] I meant of course;



[Footnote 1:_Vide supra_, p. 23.]



But they refused because some idiotic old decree's in force.

O this strange passion for decrees nothing on earth can check,

Till someone puts a foot out tripping you,

and slipping you

Break your neck.



LYSISTRATA _enters in dismay_.



WOMEN



Dear Mistress of our martial enterprise,

Why do you come with sorrow in your eyes?



LYSISTRATA



O 'tis our naughty femininity,

So weak in one spot, that hath saddened me.



WOMEN



What's this? Please speak.



LYSISTRATA



Poor women, O so weak!



WOMEN



What can it be? Surely your friends may know.



LYSISTRATA



Yea, I must speak it though it hurt me so.



WOMEN



Speak; can we help? Don't stand there mute in need.



LYSISTRATA



I'll blurt it out then--our women's army's mutinied.



WOMEN



O Zeus!



LYSISTRATA



What use is Zeus to our anatomy?

Here is the gaping calamity I meant:

I cannot shut their ravenous appetites

A moment more now. They are all deserting.

The first I caught was sidling through the postern

Close by the Cave of Pan: the next hoisting herself

With rope and pulley down: a third on the point

Of slipping past: while a fourth malcontent, seated

For instant flight to visit Orsilochus

On bird-back, I dragged off by the hair in time....

They are all snatching excuses to sneak home.

Look, there goes one.... Hey, what's the hurry?



1ST WOMAN



I must get home. I've some Milesian wool

Packed wasting away, and moths are pushing through it.



LYSISTRATA



Fine moths indeed, I know. Get back within.



1ST WOMAN



By the Goddesses, I'll return instantly.

I only want to stretch it on my bed.



LYSISTRATA



You shall stretch nothing and go nowhere either.



1ST WOMAN



Must I never use my wool then?



LYSISTRATA



If needs be.



2ND WOMAN



How unfortunate I am! O my poor flax!

It's left at home unstript.



LYSISTRATA



So here's another

That wishes to go home and strip her flax.

Inside again!



2ND WOMAN



No, by the Goddess of Light,

I'll be back as soon as I have flayed it properly.



LYSISTRATA



You'll not flay anything. For if you begin

There'll not be one here but has a patch to be flayed.



3RD WOMAN



O holy Eilithyia, stay this birth

Till I have left the precincts of the place!



LYSISTRATA



What nonsense is this?



3RD WOMAN



I'll drop it any minute.



LYSISTRATA



Yesterday you weren't with child.



3RD WOMAN



But I am today.

O let me find a midwife, Lysistrata.

O quickly!



LYSISTRATA



Now what story is this you tell?

What is this hard lump here?



3RD WOMAN



It's a male child.



LYSISTRATA



By Aphrodite, it isn't. Your belly's hollow,

And it has the feel of metal.... Well, I soon can see.

You hussy, it's Athene's sacred helm,

And you said you were with child.



3RD WOMAN



And so I am.



LYSISTRATA



Then why the helm?



3RD WOMAN



So if the throes should take me

Still in these grounds I could use it like a dove

As a laying-nest in which to drop the child.



LYSISTRATA



More pretexts! You can't hide your clear intent,

And anyway why not wait till the tenth day

Meditating a brazen name for your brass brat?



WOMAN



And I can't sleep a wink. My nerve is gone

Since I saw that snake-sentinel of the shrine.



WOMAN



And all those dreadful owls with their weird hooting!

Though I'm wearied out, I can't close an eye.



LYSISTRATA



You wicked women, cease from juggling lies.

You want your men. But what of them as well?

They toss as sleepless in the lonely night,

I'm sure of it. Hold out awhile, hold out,

But persevere a teeny-weeny longer.

An oracle has promised Victory

If we don't wrangle. Would you hear the words?



WOMEN



Yes, yes, what is it?



LYSISTRATA



Silence then, you chatterboxes.

Here--

_Whenas the swallows flocking in one place from the hoopoes

Deny themselves love's gambols any more,

All woes shall then have ending and great Zeus the Thunderer

Shall put above what was below before._



WOMEN



Will the men then always be kept under us?



LYSISTRATA

_But if the swallows squabble among themselves and fly away

Out of the temple, refusing to agree,

Then The Most Wanton Birds in all the World

They shall be named for ever. That's his decree._



WOMAN



It's obvious what it means.



LYSISTRATA



                     Now by all the gods

We must let no agony deter from duty,

Back to your quarters. For we are base indeed,

My friends, if we betray the oracle.



_She goes out._





OLD MEN.



I'd like to remind you of a fable they used to employ,

When I was a little boy:

How once through fear of the marriage-bed a young man,

Melanion by name, to the wilderness ran,

And there on the hills he dwelt.

For hares he wove a net

Which with his dog he set--

Most likely he's there yet.

For he never came back home, so great was the fear he felt.

I loathe the sex as much as he,

And therefore I no less shall be

As chaste as was Melanion.



MAN



Grann'am, do you much mind men?



WOMAN



Onions you won't need, to cry.



MAN



From my foot you shan't escape.



WOMAN



What thick forests I espy.



MEN



So much Myronides' fierce beard

And thundering black back were feared,

That the foe fled when they were shown--

Brave he as Phormion.



WOMEN.



Well, I'll relate a rival fable just to show to you

A different point of view:

There was a rough-hewn fellow, Timon, with a face

That glowered as through a thorn-bush in a wild, bleak place.

He too decided on flight,

This very Furies' son,

All the world's ways to shun

And hide from everyone,

Spitting out curses on all knavish men to left and right.

But though he reared this hate for men,

He loved the women even then,

And never thought them enemies.



WOMAN



O your jaw I'd like to break.



MAN



That I fear do you suppose?



WOMAN



Learn what kicks my legs can make.



MAN



Raise them up, and you'll expose--



WOMAN



Nay, you'll see there, I engage,

All is well kept despite my age,

And tended smooth enough to slip

From any adversary's grip.



LYSISTRATA _appears_.



LYSISTRATA



Hollo there, hasten hither to me

Skip fast along.



WOMAN



What is this? Why the noise?



LYSISTRATA



A man, a man! I spy a frenzied man!

He carries Love upon him like a staff.

O Lady of Cyprus, and Cythera, and Paphos,

I beseech you, keep our minds and hands to the oath.



WOMAN



Where is he, whoever he is?



LYSISTRATA



By the Temple of Chloe.



WOMAN



Yes, now I see him, but who can he be?



LYSISTRATA



Look at him. Does anyone recognise his face?



MYRRHINE



I do. He is my husband, Cinesias.



LYSISTRATA



You know how to work. Play with him, lead him on,

Seduce him to the cozening-point--kiss him, kiss him,

Then slip your mouth aside just as he's sure of it,

Ungirdle every caress his mouth feels at

Save that the oath upon the bowl has locked.



MYRRHINE



You can rely on me.



LYSISTRATA



I'll stay here to help

In working up his ardor to its height

Of vain magnificence.... The rest to their quarters.



_Enter_ CINESIAS.



Who is this that stands within our lines?



CINESIAS



I.



LYSISTRATA



A man?



CINESIAS



Too much a man!



LYSISTRATA



Then be off at once.



CINESIAS



Who are you that thus eject me?



LYSISTRATA



Guard for the day.



CINESIAS



By all the gods, then call Myrrhine hither.



LYSISTRATA



So, call Myrrhine hither! Who are you?



CINESIAS



I am her husband Cinesias, son of Anthros.



LYSISTRATA



Welcome, dear friend! That glorious name of yours

Is quite familiar in our ranks. Your wife

Continually has it in her mouth.

She cannot touch an apple or an egg

But she must say, "This to Cinesias!"



CINESIAS



O is that true?



LYSISTRATA



By Aphrodite, it is.

If the conversation strikes on men, your wife

Cuts in with, "All are boobies by Cinesias."



CINESIAS



Then call her here.



LYSISTRATA



And what am I to get?



CINESIAS



This, if you want it.... See, what I have here.

But not to take away.



LYSISTRATA



Then I'll call her.



CINESIAS



Be quick, be quick. All grace is wiped from life

Since she went away. O sad, sad am I

When there I enter on that loneliness,

And wine is unvintaged of the sun's flavour.

And food is tasteless. But I've put on weight.



MYRRHINE (_above_)



I love him O so much! but he won't have it.

Don't call me down to him.



CINESIAS



Sweet little Myrrhine!

What do you mean? Come here.



MYRRHINE



O no I won't.

Why are you calling me? You don't want me.



CINESIAS



Not want you! with this week-old strength of love.



MYRRHINE



Farewell.



CINESIAS



Don't go, please don't go, Myrrhine.

At least you'll hear our child. Call your mother, lad.



CHILD



Mummy ... mummy ... mummy!



CINESIAS



There now, don't you feel pity for the child?

He's not been fed or washed now for six days.



MYRRHINE



I certainly pity him with so heartless a father.



CINESIAS



Come down, my sweetest, come for the child's sake.



MYRRHINE



A trying life it is to be a mother!

I suppose I'd better go.             _She comes down._



CINESIAS



How much younger she looks,

How fresher and how prettier! Myrrhine,

Lift up your lovely face, your disdainful face;

And your ankle ... let your scorn step out its worst;

It only rubs me to more ardor here.



MYRRHINE (_playing with the child_)



You're as innocent as he's iniquitous.

Let me kiss you, honey-petting, mother's darling.



CINESIAS



How wrong to follow other women's counsel

And let loose all these throbbing voids in yourself

As well as in me. Don't you go throb-throb?



MYRRHINE



Take away your hands.



CINESIAS



Everything in the house

Is being ruined.



MYRRHINE



I don't care at all.



CINESIAS



The roosters are picking all your web to rags.

Do you mind that?



MYRRHINE



Not I.



CINESIAS



What time we've wasted

We might have drenched with Paphian laughter, flung

On Aphrodite's Mysteries. O come here.



MYRRHINE



Not till a treaty finishes the war.



CINESIAS



If you must have it, then we'll get it done.



MYRRHINE



Do it and I'll come home. Till then I am bound.



CINESIAS



Well, can't your oath perhaps be got around?



MYRRHINE



No ... no ... still I'll not say that I don't love you.



CINESIAS



You love me! Then dear girl, let me also love you.



MYRRHINE



You must be joking. The boy's looking on.



CINESIAS



Here, Manes, take the child home!... There, he's gone.

There's nothing in the way now. Come to the point.



MYRRHINE



Here in the open! In plain sight?



CINESIAS



In Pan's cave.

A splendid place.



MYRRHINE



Where shall I dress my hair again

Before returning to the citadel?



CINESIAS



You can easily primp yourself in the Clepsydra.



MYRRHINE



But how can I break my oath?



CINESIAS



Leave that to me,

I'll take all risk.



MYRRHINE



Well, I'll make you comfortable.



CINESIAS



Don't worry. I'd as soon lie on the grass.



MYRRHINE



No, by Apollo, in spite of all your faults

I won't have you lying on the nasty earth.

(_From here MYRRHINE keeps on going off to fetch things._)



CINESIAS



Ah, how she loves me.



MYRRHINE



Rest there on the bench,

While I arrange my clothes. O what a nuisance,

I must find some cushions first.



CINESIAS



Why some cushions?

Please don't get them!



MYRRHINE



What? The plain, hard wood?

Never, by Artemis! That would be too vulgar.



CINESIAS



Open your arms!



MYRRHINE



No. Wait a second.



CINESIAS



O....

Then hurry back again.



MYRRHINE



Here the cushions are.

Lie down while I--O dear! But what a shame,

You need more pillows.



CINESIAS



I don't want them, dear.



MYRRHINE



But I do.



CINESIAS



Thwarted affection mine,

They treat you just like Heracles at a feast

With cheats of dainties, O disappointing arms!



MYRRHINE



Raise up your head.



CINESIAS



There, that's everything at last.



MYRRHINE



Yes, all.



CINESIAS



Then run to my arms, you golden girl.



MYRRHINE



I'm loosening my girdle now. But you've not forgotten?

You're not deceiving me about the Treaty?



CINESIAS



No, by my life, I'm not.



MYRRHINE



Why, you've no blanket.



CINESIAS



It's not the silly blanket's warmth but yours I want.



MYRRHINE



Never mind. You'll soon have both. I'll come straight back.



CINESIAS



The woman will choke me with her coverlets.



MYRRHINE



Get up a moment.



CINESIAS



I'm up high enough.



MYRRHINE



Would you like me to perfume you?



CINESIAS



By Apollo, no!



MYRRHINE



By Aphrodite, I'll do it anyway.



CINESIAS



Lord Zeus, may she soon use up all the myrrh.



MYRRHINE



Stretch out your hand. Take it and rub it in.



CINESIAS



Hmm, it's not as fragrant as might be; that is,

Not before it's smeared. It doesn't smell of kisses.



MYRRHINE



How silly I am: I've brought you Rhodian scents.



CINESIAS



It's good enough, leave it, love.



MYRRHINE



You must be jesting.



CINESIAS



Plague rack the man who first compounded scent!



MYRRHINE



Here, take this flask.



CINESIAS



I've a far better one.

Don't tease me, come here, and get nothing more.



MYRRHINE



I'm coming.... I'm just drawing off my shoes....

You're sure you will vote for Peace?



CINESIAS



I'll think about it.

_She runs off._

I'm dead: the woman's worn me all away.

She's gone and left me with an anguished pulse.



MEN



Baulked in your amorous delight

How melancholy is your plight.

With sympathy your case I view;

For I am sure it's hard on you.

What human being could sustain

This unforeseen domestic strain,

And not a single trace

Of willing women in the place!



CINESIAS



O Zeus, what throbbing suffering!



MEN



She did it all, the harlot, she

With her atrocious harlotry.



WOMEN



Nay, rather call her darling-sweet.



MEN



What, sweet? She's a rude, wicked thing.



CINESIAS



A wicked thing, as I repeat.

O Zeus, O Zeus,

Canst Thou not suddenly let loose

Some twirling hurricane to tear

Her flapping up along the air

And drop her, when she's whirled around,

Here to the ground

Neatly impaled upon the stake

That's ready upright for her sake.

_He goes out._



_Enter_ SPARTAN HERALD.



_The_ MAGISTRATE _comes forward_.



HERALD



What here gabs the Senate an' the Prytanes?

I've fetcht despatches for them.



MAGISTRATE



Are you a man

Or a monstrosity?



HERALD



My scrimp-brained lad,

I'm a herald, as ye see, who hae come frae Sparta

Anent a Peace.



MAGISTRATE



Then why do you hide that lance

That sticks out under your arms?



HERALD.



I've brought no lance.



MAGISTRATE



Then why do you turn aside and hold your cloak

So far out from your body? Is your groin swollen

With stress of travelling?



HERALD



By Castor, I'll swear

The man is wud.



MAGISTRATE



Indeed, your cloak is wide,

My rascal fellow.



HERALD



But I tell ye No!

Enow o' fleering!



MAGISTRATE



Well, what is it then?



HERALD



It's my despatch cane.



MAGISTRATE



Of course--a Spartan cane!

But speak right out. I know all this too well.

Are new privations springing up in Sparta?



HERALD



Och, hard as could be: in lofty lusty columns

Our allies stand united. We maun get Pellene.



MAGISTRATE



Whence has this evil come? Is it from Pan?



HERALD



No. Lampito first ran asklent, then the others

Sprinted after her example, and blocked, the hizzies,

Their wames unskaithed against our every fleech.



MAGISTRATE



What did you do?



HERALD



We are broken, and bent double,

Limp like men carrying lanthorns in great winds

About the city. They winna let us even

Wi' lightest neif skim their primsie pretties

Till we've concluded Peace-terms wi' a' Hellas.



MAGISTRATE



So the conspiracy is universal;

This proves it. Then return to Sparta. Bid them

Send envoys with full powers to treat of Peace;

And I will urge the Senate here to choose

Plenipotentiary ambassadors,

As argument adducing this connection.



HERALD



I'm off. Your wisdom none could contravert.

_They retire._



MEN



There is no beast, no rush of fire, like woman so untamed.

She calmly goes her way where even panthers would be shamed.



WOMEN



And yet you are fool enough, it seems, to dare to war with me,

When for your faithful ally you might win me easily.



MEN



Never could the hate I feel for womankind grow less.



WOMEN



Then have your will. But I'll take pity on your nakedness.

For I can see just how ridiculous you look, and so

Will help you with your tunic if close up I now may go.



MEN



Well, that, by Zeus, is no scoundrel-deed, I frankly will admit.

I only took them off myself in a scoundrel raging-fit.



WOMEN



Now you look sensible, and that you're men no one could doubt.

If you were but good friends again, I'd take the insect out

That hurts your eye.



MEN



Is that what's wrong? That nasty bitie thing.

Please squeeze it out, and show me what it is that makes this sting.

It's been paining me a long while now.



WOMEN



Well I'll agree to that,

Although you're most unmannerly. O what a giant gnat.

Here, look! It comes from marshy Tricorysus, I can tell.



MEN



O thank you. It was digging out a veritable well.

Now that it's gone, I can't hold back my tears. See how they fall.



WOMEN



I'll wipe them off, bad as you are, and kiss you after all.



MEN



I won't be kissed.



WOMEN



O yes, you will. Your wishes do not matter.



MEN



O botheration take you all! How you cajole and flatter.

A hell it is to live with you; to live without, a hell:

How truly was that said. But come, these enmities let's quell.

You stop from giving orders and I'll stop from doing wrong.

So let's join ranks and seal our bargain with a choric song.



CHORUS.



Athenians, it's not our intention

To sow political dissension

By giving any scandal mention;

But on the contrary to promote good feeling in the state

By word and deed. We've had enough calamities of late.

So let a man or woman but divulge

They need a trifle, say,

Two minas, three or four,

I've purses here that bulge.

There's only one condition made

(Indulge my whim in this I pray)--

When Peace is signed once more,

On no account am I to be repaid.



And I'm making preparation

For a gay select collation

With some youths of reputation.

I've managed to produce some soup and they're slaughtering for me

A sucking-pig: its flesh should taste as tender as could be.

I shall expect you at my house today.

To the baths make an early visit,

And bring your children along;

Don't dawdle on the way.

Ask no one; enter as if the place

Was all your own--yours henceforth is it.

If nothing chances wrong,

The door will then be shut bang in your face.



_The_ SPARTAN AMBASSADORS _approach_.



CHORUS



Here come the Spartan envoys with long, worried beards.

Hail, Spartans how do you fare?

Did anything new arise?



SPARTANS



No need for a clutter o' words. Do ye see our condition?



CHORUS



The situation swells to greater tension.

Something will explode soon.



SPARTANS



It's awfu' truly.

But come, let us wi' the best speed we may

Scribble a Peace.



CHORUS



I notice that our men

Like wrestlers poised for contest, hold their clothes

Out from their bellies. An athlete's malady!

Since exercise alone can bring relief.



ATHENIANS



Can anyone tell us where Lysistrata is?

There is no need to describe our men's condition,

It shows up plainly enough.



CHORUS



It's the same disease.

Do you feel a jerking throbbing in the morning?



ATHENIANS



By Zeus, yes! In these straits, I'm racked all through.

Unless Peace is soon declared, we shall be driven

In the void of women to try Cleisthenes.



CHORUS



Be wise and cover those things with your tunics.

Who knows what kind of person may perceive you?



ATHENIANS



By Zeus, you're right.



SPARTANS



By the Twa Goddesses,

Indeed ye are. Let's put our tunics on.



ATHENIANS



Hail O my fellow-sufferers, hail Spartans.



SPARTANS



O hinnie darling, what a waefu' thing!

If they had seen us wi' our lunging waddies!



ATHENIANS



Tell us then, Spartans, what has brought you here?



SPARTANS



We come to treat o' Peace.



ATHENIANS



Well spoken there!

And we the same. Let us callout Lysistrata

Since she alone can settle the Peace-terms.



SPARTANS



Callout Lysistratus too if ye don't mind.



CHORUS



No indeed. She hears your voices and she comes.



_Enter LYSISTRATA_



Hail, Wonder of all women! Now you must be in turn

Hard, shifting, clear, deceitful, noble, crafty, sweet, and stern.

The foremost men of Hellas, smitten by your fascination,

Have brought their tangled quarrels here for your sole arbitration.



LYSISTRATA



An easy task if the love's raging home-sickness

Doesn't start trying out how well each other

Will serve instead of us. But I'll know at once

If they do. O where's that girl, Reconciliation?

Bring first before me the Spartan delegates,

And see you lift no rude or violent hands--

None of the churlish ways our husbands used.

But lead them courteously, as women should.

And if they grudge fingers, guide them by other methods,

And introduce them with ready tact. The Athenians

Draw by whatever offers you a grip.

Now, Spartans, stay here facing me. Here you,

Athenians. Both hearken to my words.

I am a woman, but I'm not a fool.

And what of natural intelligence I own

Has been filled out with the remembered precepts

My father and the city-elders taught me.

First I reproach you both sides equally

That when at Pylae and Olympia,

At Pytho and the many other shrines

That I could name, you sprinkle from one cup

The altars common to all Hellenes, yet

You wrack Hellenic cities, bloody Hellas

With deaths of her own sons, while yonder clangs

The gathering menace of barbarians.



ATHENIANS



We cannot hold it in much longer now.



LYSISTRATA



Now unto you, O Spartans, do I speak.

Do you forget how your own countryman,

Pericleidas, once came hither suppliant

Before our altars, pale in his purple robes,

Praying for an army when in Messenia

Danger growled, and the Sea-god made earth quaver.

Then with four thousand hoplites Cimon marched

And saved all Sparta. Yet base ingrates now,

You are ravaging the soil of your preservers.



ATHENIANS



By Zeus, they do great wrong, Lysistrata.



SPARTANS



Great wrong, indeed. O! What a luscious wench!



LYSISTRATA



And now I turn to the Athenians.

Have you forgotten too how once the Spartans

In days when you wore slavish tunics, came

And with their spears broke a Thessalian host

And all the partisans of Hippias?

They alone stood by your shoulder on that day.

They freed you, so that for the slave's short skirt

You should wear the trailing cloak of liberty.



SPARTANS



I've never seen a nobler woman anywhere.



ATHENIANS



Nor I one with such prettily jointing hips.



LYSISTRATA



Now, brethren twined with mutual benefactions,

Can you still war, can you suffer such disgrace?

Why not be friends? What is there to prevent you?



SPARTANS



We're agreed, gin that we get this tempting Mole.



LYSISTRATA



Which one?



SPARTANS



That ane we've wanted to get into,

O for sae lang.... Pylos, of course.



ATHENIANS



By Poseidon,

Never!



LYSISTRATA



Give it up.



ATHENIANS



Then what will we do?

We need that ticklish place united to us--



LYSISTRATA



Ask for some other lurking-hole in return.



ATHENIANS



Then, ah, we'll choose this snug thing here, Echinus,

Shall we call the nestling spot? And this backside haven,

These desirable twin promontories, the Maliac,

And then of course these Megarean Legs.



SPARTANS



Not that, O surely not that, never that.



LYSISTRATA



Agree! Now what are two legs more or less?



ATHENIANS



I want to strip at once and plough my land.



SPARTANS



And mine I want to fertilize at once.



LYSISTRATA



And so you can, when Peace is once declared.

If you mean it, get your allies' heads together

And come to some decision.



ATHENIANS



What allies?

There's no distinction in our politics:

We've risen as one man to this conclusion;

Every ally is jumping-mad to drive it home.



SPARTANS



And ours the same, for sure.



ATHENIANS



The Carystians first!

I'll bet on that.



LYSISTRATA



I agree with all of you.

Now off, and cleanse yourselves for the Acropolis,

For we invite you all in to a supper

From our commissariat baskets. There at table

You will pledge good behaviour and uprightness;

Then each man's wife is his to hustle home.



ATHENIANS



Come, as quickly as possible.



SPARTANS



As quick as ye like.

Lead on.



ATHENIANS



O Zeus, quick, quick, lead quickly on.

_They hurry off._



CHORUS.



Broidered stuffs on high I'm heaping,

Fashionable cloaks and sweeping

Trains, not even gold gawds keeping.

Take them all, I pray you, take them all (I do not care)

And deck your children--your daughter, if the Basket she's to bear.

Come, everyone of you, come in and take

Of this rich hoard a share.

Nought's tied so skilfully

But you its seal can break

And plunder all you spy inside.

I've laid out all that I can spare,

And therefore you will see

Nothing unless than I you're sharper-eyed.

If lacking corn a man should be

While his slaves clamour hungrily

And his excessive progeny,

Then I've a handfull of grain at home which is always to be had,

And to which in fact a more-than-life-size loaf I'd gladly add.

Then let the poor bring with them bag or sack

And take this store of food.

Manes, my man, I'll tell

To help them all to pack

Their wallets full. But O take care.

I had forgotten; don't intrude,

Or terrified you'll yell.

My dog is hungry too, and bites--beware!



Some _LOUNGERS_ from the Market with torches approach

the Banqueting hall. The _PORTER_ bars their entrance.



1ST MARKET-LOUNGER



Open the door.



PORTER



Here move along.



1ST MARKET-LOUNGER



What's this?

You're sitting down. Shall I singe you with my torch?

That's vulgar! O I couldn't do it ... yet

If it would gratify the audience,

I'll mortify myself.



2ND MARKET-LOUNGER



And I will too.

We'll both be crude and vulgar, yes we will.



PORTER



Be off at once now or you'll be wailing

Dirges for your hair. Get off at once,

And see you don't disturb the Spartan envoys

Just coming out from the splendid feast they've had.



_The banqueters begin to come out._



1ST ATHENIAN



I've never known such a pleasant banquet before,

And what delightful fellows the Spartans are.

When we are warm with wine, how wise we grow.



2ND ATHENIAN



That's only fair, since sober we're such fools:

This is the advice I'd give the Athenians--

See our ambassadors are always drunk.

For when we visit Sparta sober, then

We're on the alert for trickery all the while

So that we miss half of the things they say,

And misinterpret things that were never said,

And then report the muddle back to Athens.

But now we're charmed with each other. They might cap

With the Telamon-catch instead of the Cleitagora,

And we'd applaud and praise them just the same;

We're not too scrupulous in weighing words.



PORTER



Why, here the rascals come again to plague me.

Won't you move on, you sorry loafers there!



MARKET-LOUNGER



Yes, by Zeus, they're already coming out.



SPARTANS



Now hinnie dearest, please tak' up your pipe

That I may try a spring an' sing my best

In honour o' the Athenians an' oursels.



ATHENIANS



Aye, take your pipe. By all the gods, there's nothing

Could glad my heart more than to watch you dance.



SPARTANS.



Mnemosyne,

Let thy fire storm these younkers,

O tongue wi' stormy ecstasy

My Muse that knows

Our deeds and theirs, how when at sea

Their navies swooped upon

The Medes at Artemision--

Gods for their courage, did they strike

Wrenching a triumph frae their foes;

While at Thermopylae

Leonidas' army stood: wild-boars they were like

Wild-boars that wi' fierce threat

Their terrible tusks whet;

The sweat ran streaming down each twisted face,

Faen blossoming i' strange petals o' death

Panted frae mortal breath,

The sweat drenched a' their bodies i' that place,

For the hurly-burly o' Persians glittered more

Than the sands on the shore.



Come, Hunting Girl, an' hear my prayer--

You whose arrows whizz in woodlands, come an' bless

This Peace we swear.

Let us be fenced wi' age long amity,

O let this bond stick ever firm through thee

In friendly happiness.

Henceforth no guilefu' perjury be seen!

O hither, hither O

Thou wildwood queen.



LYSISTRATA



Earth is delighted now, peace is the voice of earth.

Spartans, sort out your wives: Athenians, yours.

Let each catch hands with his wife and dance his joy,

Dance out his thanks, be grateful in music,

And promise reformation with his heels.



ATHENIANS.



O Dancers, forward. Lead out the Graces,

Call Artemis out;

Then her brother, the Dancer of Skies,

That gracious Apollo.

Invoke with a shout

Dionysus out of whose eyes

Breaks fire on the maenads that follow;

And Zeus with his flares of quick lightning, and call,

Happy Hera, Queen of all,

And all the Daimons summon hither to be

Witnesses of our revelry

And of the noble Peace we have made,

Aphrodite our aid.

Io Paieon, Io, cry--

For victory, leap!

Attained by me, leap!

Euoi Euoi Euai Euai.



SPARTANS



Piper, gie us the music for a new sang.



SPARTANS.



Leaving again lovely lofty Taygetus

Hither O Spartan Muse, hither to greet us,

And wi' our choric voice to raise

To Amyclean Apollo praise,

And Tyndareus' gallant sons whose days

Alang Eurotas' banks merrily pass,

An' Athene o' the House o' Brass.



Now the dance begin;

Dance, making swirl your fringe o' woolly skin,

While we join voices

To hymn dear Sparta that rejoices

I' a beautifu' sang,

An' loves to see

Dancers tangled beautifully;

For the girls i' tumbled ranks

Alang Eurotas' banks

Like wanton fillies thrang,

Frolicking there

An' like Bacchantes shaking the wild air

To comb a giddy laughter through the hair,

Bacchantes that clench thyrsi as they sweep

To the ecstatic leap.



An' Helen, Child o' Leda, come

Thou holy, nimble, gracefu' Queen,

Lead thou the dance, gather thy joyous tresses up i' bands

An' play like a fawn. To madden them, clap thy hands,

And sing praise to the warrior goddess templed i' our lands,

Her o' the House o' Brass.