by Aristophanes
He—
MNESILOCHUS: Getteth sucked.
SERVANT: What uncouth farmhand comes to our rampart area?
MNESILOCHUS: One who itches to get hold of you and your
saccharine poet,
bend you down
with your backside uppermost and up your rampart
ram this prick of mine.
SERVANT: My, what a rampant young blade you must have been, old
man!
EURIPIDES: Take no notice of him, my good fellow. Just call Agathon out to me, no matter what.
SERVANT: No need to be importunate.
He won’t be long. He’s coming out. He’s working on a song
and in this wintry weather668 he has to come into the sun
to warm his spondees up and make them mellow.
EURIPIDES: So what should I do?
SERVANT: Stick around. He’s coming out.
EURIPIDES: [groaning] Oh Lord, what’s in store for me today?
MNESILOCHUS: Ye gods, why the groans? I’d give a lot
to know what’s bothering you.
You shouldn’t keep things from your kin.
EURIPIDES: Something horrible is on the boil.
MNESILOCHUS: Such as?
EURIPIDES: This day decides whether Euripides lives or dies.
MNESILOCHUS: How’s that? . . . No way,
because today not a single court’s in session,
nor is an Assembly sitting.
We’re in the middle of the Thesmophoria lull.669
EURIPIDES: Precisely! That’s what’s going to do me in.
The women, don’t you know, are hatching a plot
in these precincts of Demeter and Persephone670—a plot against
me—
and will decide today about my liquidation.
MNESILOCHUS: For what reason?
EURIPIDES: Because in my tragedies I make them bad.
MNESILOCHUS: You deserve it, by Poseidon!
But what provisions have you made?
EURIPIDES: If only I can persuade the tragic playwright Agathon
to infiltrate among the women
and speak on my behalf.
MNESILOCHUS: Openly or incognito?
EURIPIDES: Incognito, dressed up as a woman.
MNESILOCHUS: That’s neat. Just like you, too.
For downright smartness you take the cake.671
EURIPIDES: Shh!
MNESILOCHUS: What?
EURIPIDES: Agathon’s coming out.
MNESILOCHUS: Where?
[AGATHON, cleanly shaven, wearing a wig, and in female attire, is wheeled out lounging on a settee.]
EURIPIDES: Where? Right there. That’s a man being wheeled out.
MNESILOCHUS: I must be going blind. I see no man,
only Cyrene the courtesan.672
EURIPIDES: Quiet! He’s going to chant.
[AGATHON clears his throat, runs up and down a scale, then settles on a reedy falsetto tone, delivering the CHORUS and LEADER parts alternately.]
MNESILOCHUS: Sounds like a colony of ants in his throat.
LEADER: Take up the holy
Torch of Demeter and daughter Persephone.
Dance with it, maidens, and shout with glee.
CHORUS: Which of the gods must we celebrate? Tell me. I’m eager to know and eager to do, And every deity to obey.
LEADER: Then come, O you Muses, come and adore Him whose arrows are golden all over: Phoebus Apollo, builder of Troy,673 Where flows through the plain Simois the river.
CHORUS: So welcome our song, Apollo, with joy, You who invented music the first674 And gave us melody for a feast.
LEADER: A hymn to Artemis where the oak tree Is born on the mountains as was she.
CHORUS: Together with you I praise and adore
Artemis. Leto’s holy daughter:
She who is a virgin forever.
LEADER: Leto, indeed, let the Asian lyre
Strum its chords as the Graces of Phrygia
Are beating time to the tune in the air.
CHORUS: Leto’s the lady whom I adore,
And the strains of the kithara, mother of song:
Strangely male, famously strong.
LEADER: Thus did a flash gleam from your pupil, Divine as you are, and thus do we marvel Hearing your voice, great Phoebus Apollo.
CHORUS: Hail, beatific scion of Leto.
MNESILOCHUS: Holy Genetyllides,675 what a pretty ditty! So tongue kissed and so titillating! It sent an itch right up my bum. But may I ask you, stripling, in the words of Aeschylus’ Lycurgeia676 what you are? From where do you stem, effeminate thing? Where’s your country and what’s your home? And what is this garb you wear? What kind of mix-up have we here? Lute, chatting cheek and jowl with party frock, hairnet with lyre? It doesn’t click. What’s a looking glass doing with a sword?
And you yourself, child,
if you’re being raised as male, where’s your cock,
your trews, your Spartan boots?
Oh, so you’re a woman then?
But where are your boobs?
Can’t you answer? Come on!
Or must I find out your gender from your song?
It’s obvious that you’re keeping mum.
AGATHON: Old man, come, come! I think there’s a touch of envy in your diatribe. But I’m not dismayed. My attire has to suit my mood. A playwright has to match his manners to his plays. If they’re about a woman, say, his body language should describe what it is to be a female and—
MNESILOCHUS: So when you’re doing Phaedra you have to be fast?677
AGATHON: . . . and when he’s doing men he has to be physical at best,
which if he’s not he must pretend.
MNESILOCHUS: I hope you’ll call me when you’re doing satyrs: I’ll come and ram you from behind.
AGATHON: [continuing to disregard his remarks] Besides, it’s unbecoming to see a poet all uncouth and bristly faced. Look at Ibycus the famous, and Anacreon of Teos. Alcaeus, too—all first rate678—they pepped up their appearance to match their muse, wore natty hats, sported chic Ionian wear, were very trim. And Phrynichus, too679—you’ve surely heard of him—was a handsome man and handsomely turned out: that’s why his plays were such a hit. Our compositions take after what we are.
MNESILOCHUS: If that’s really so, it’s why Philocles
the sewage collecter composes sewage, and Xenocles
the scumpot scum, and Theognis the snowbound snow.680
AGATHON: It’s the law. That’s why I had to take myself in hand.
MNESILOCHUS: My God, how?
EURIPIDES: Must you bark like that? I was his age when I began.
MNESILOCHUS: Then I don’t envy you your apprenticeship.
EURIPIDES: All right, let me tell you why I’m here.
AGATHON: Sure.
EURIPIDES: Agathon: “That man is sharp
who can say what he wants in a minimum of words.”681
I’m caught up in a novel problem
and have come to you for help.
AGATHON: What are your needs?
EURIPIDES: The women plan to do away with me today
at the Thesmophoria.
I speak ill of them, they say.
AGATHON: How can we help you, then?
EURIPIDES: In every possible way.
If only you’d infiltrate among the women as a woman
and speak up for me, you’d save my life
because only you can represent me well.
AGATHON: Why can’t you go and represent yourself?
EURIPIDES: Let me tell you why. First of all,
I’d be recognized:
secondly, I’m grisly and old,
whereas you are good-looking, fair, cleanly shaven,
nicely mannered, pleasing to see, and sound like a woman.
AGATHON: Euripides . . .
EURIPIDES: What?
AGATHON: Didn’t you once write:
“You love the light. Do you think your father d
oesn’t?”682
EURIPIDES: I did.
AGATHON: Then don’t expect
anyone else to bear your burdens. We’d be mad.
Keep your problems to yourself.
Mishaps must be faced and squarely tackled,
not wriggled out of.
MNESILOCHUS: Don’t tell me it was wriggling, arsehole,
that got your bottom buggered and squarely backed?
EURIPIDES: But what exactly is it that makes you fear to go there?
AGATHON: They’re more likely to kill me than you.
EURIPIDES: Why?
AGATHON: They’d think I was intruding on their
nocturnal mysteries and
getting away with being a far more female Aphrodite.
MNESILOCHUS: “Getting away with” indeed!
More likely getting fucked . . .
But he does have a point.
EURIPIDES: Well, will you do it?
AGATHON: Are you out of your mind?
EURIPIDES: Thrice-cursed me. I’m doomed!
MNESILOCHUS: Uncle Euripides, my dearest fellow,
don’t give up so easily.
EURIPIDES: All very well, but what am I to do?
MNESILOCHUS: Tell this jerk to fuck off, and make use of me.
EURIPIDES: Really?
Then if you’re all mine, off with that cloak.
MNESILOCHUS: There, it’s off. Now what are you going to do with
me?
EURIPIDES: Shave that shag of yours; then singe you down below.
MNESILOCHUS: OK if you say so . . .
I’ve let myself in for this.
EURIPIDES: Agathon,
you’ve always got razors with you. Lend us one.
AGATHON: Help yourself from my razor case.
EURIPIDES: Thanks a lot. [to MNESILOCHUS] Now sit you down
and inflate your right cheek.
MNESILOCHUS: Oh Lord!
EURIPIDES: Shut up and keep still, or I’ll have to tether you.
[He begins to shave MNESILOCHUS.]
MNESILOCHUS: [jumping up] Yow!
EURIPIDES: Hey, where d’you think you’re off to?
MNESILOCHUS: To the asylum of the holy goddesses. I’m not sitting here being chopped to pieces.
EURIPIDES: Don’t you think you’ll look a fool
walking about with a half-shaved jowl?
MNESILOCHUS: I don’t care.
EURIPIDES: Don’t let me down, for heaven’s sake. Come back here.
MNESILOCHUS: [slinking back] I’m sunk!
EURIPIDES: Keep still and look up. Stop wriggling.
[He holds MNESILOCHUS’ nose to tackle his mustache.]
MNESILOCHUS: Yuk!
EURIPIDES: Yuk nothing! It’s all over and you look terrific.
MNESILOCHUS: [fingering his chin] What a wimp I am! Could be a raw recruit!
EURIPIDES: Not to worry. Everyone will think you’re cute.
MNESILOCHUS: All right.
EURIPIDES: [handing him a mirror] See yourself?
MNESILOCHUS: My God, it’s Cleisthenes!683
EURIPIDES: [gazing at his crotch] Stand up and keep still. I’m going to singe off some of that fluff.
MNESILOCHUS: Oh dear! I’m about to become roast pork.
EURIPIDES: Will somebody bring me a light or a torch, please?
[A SERVANT comes out with a burning torch. EURIPIDES takes it and approaches MNESILOCHUS.]
Turn towards me and keep the tip of that tail clear.
MNESILOCHUS: I’m trying to but I’m on fire. . . .
Water! Water! Help! Or the fire’ll spread to my butt.
EURIPIDES: Bear up!
MNESILOCHUS: “Bear up,” he says, when I’m being burned up!
EURIPIDES: Steady! You’ve come through the worst.
There’s nothing more to worry about.
MNESILOCHUS: Oh yeah? With my scrotum smeared all over with
soot?
EURIPIDES: Don’t worry. Somebody’ll sponge it off.
MNESILOCHUS: Damn anyone who wants to sponge me off!
EURIPIDES: Agathon, since you’ve declined to offer us yourself,
will you at least lend us a dress for this fellow here,
and also a bra.
Don’t pretend you haven’t got them.
AGATHON: Go ahead and use whatever you need.
[A SERVANT goes into the house and comes out with an assortment of women’s clothes.]
EURIPIDES: [holding out a dress] Here, try on this crocus yellow party frock.
MNESILOCHUS: [sniffing it] Sweet Aphrodite, quite a feisty whiff of prick! Put it on.
EURIPIDES: Hand me the bra.
AGATHON: Here you are.
MNESILOCHUS: Make sure the line of the dress around the legs is
right.
EURIPIDES: We need a headdress and a hairnet.
AGATHON: I’ve got something better: this wig I wear at night.
EURIPIDES: My God, it’s perfect!
MNESILOCHUS: But does it fit?
EURIPIDES: To a tee . . . Now a wrap.
AGATHON: Take one from the sofa.
EURIPIDES: And shoes?
AGATHON: Take mine. Here you are.
MNESILOCHUS: I hope they fit. [He puts them on.] Plenty of room to wriggle your toes.
AGATHON: Suit yourself. And now if you’ve got all you can use,
will someone wheel me smartly into the house?
[A SERVANT wheels AGATHON away.]
EURIPIDES: [surveying MNESILOCHUS] Our man here makes a splendid lady to look at, but you’ve got to remember to talk with a female pitch.
MNESILOCHUS: [in falsetto accents] I’ll do my best.
EURIPIDES: Now go.
MNESILOCHUS: Apollo, no! . . . Not until you swear to me . . .
EURIPIDES: Swear what?
MNESILOCHUS: That you’ll come to my rescue at all costs
if there’s a hitch.
EURIPIDES: I swear by Ether the air, the home of Zeus.684
MNESILOCHUS: Swearing by Hippocrates’ apartment would be just as good.685
EURIPIDES: Then I’ll swear by every blessed god.
MNESILOCHUS: Remember this: “Your heart has sworn
not just your tongue.”‡ That’s your promise.
EURIPIDES: Please leave at once. The bell for the Thesmophoria has gone. I, too, am off the premises.
[EURIPIDES leaves and there arrive on the scene CRITYLLA, MICA, WREATH SELLER, MANIA (holding MICA’s baby), and other women celebrating the Thesmophoria. They are accompanied by a throng of SERVANTS. MNESILOCHUS ironically pretends that he has a servant, too, carrying his nonexistent offerings. The passage is a mockery of accepted behavior.]
MNESILOCHUS: Come along, Thratta, my girl. Oh, Thratta, just look at all those blazing torches! What a crowd of people, all pressing towards the sanctuary through the smoke. Dear Demeter and Persephone, grant me luck: bless my coming here and bless my going hence.
Thratta, put the cake tin down and bring out the cake.
I’m going to offer the two goddesses a slice.
Demeter and little Pherrephatta,686 accept this sacrifice,
which is one of the many I’ll make
to thank you for the many things you’re going to do for me.
First of which is that I get away with this disguise.
Then that my daughter Vagina
lands a husband rich and clueless.
And finally that my wee John Thomas
acquits himself with nous and common sense.
Now where, where is the best place to sit
so’s to hear the speakers spout?
So off with you, Thratta.
Servants aren’t allowed to hear a speaker.
[The CHORUS enters and amid a buzz of conversation the women take their places as CRITYLLA mounts the rostrum.]
CRITYLLA: Silence, please! Silence, please!
Let prayers be addressed to the Thesmophoria divinities,
&nbs
p; and to Pluto god of wealth, Calligeneia source of beauty,
to Mother Earth the provider, Kourostrophus nurse of boys,
to Hermes and all the Graces—
asking that this meeting and this day’s assembly
be conducted in the smoothest and most seemly ways,
bringing blessings on the town of Athens and yourselves.
And may every success be hers
whose deeds and counsels best serve
the Athenian people and women’s cause.
Let that be your prayer and all good things be yours.
Cheers, great Paean!687 O Paean, cheers!
CHORUS: So let the race of gods rejoice Happy to listen to your prayer:
Zeus of the hallowed name
And you of the golden lyre688
Who dwell in holy Delos;
And you the mighty virgin dame689
With glowing eyes and golden spear
Who fought for the city you live in and won,
Please come to us here;
And you the aureate-eyed daughter of Leto,
Artemis, and awesome Poseidon
Ruling the briny main
And fishy sink of the ocean;
And you the Nereids of the salty sea,690
And you the mountain nymphs of the beetling
Peaks; let the golden lyre of Apollo
Glorify our prayers
That we the Athenian women and heirs
Of Athens may hold a flawless meeting.
Implore the gods of Olympus and the Olympian goddesses
And the gods of Pytho and the Pythian goddesses691
As well as the gods of Delos and the Delian goddesses
And all other divinities to castigate
Anyone who in any way
Plots to undermine the Confederacy of Women
Or parleys secretly with Euripides or with the Medes692
To the detriment of women,
Or anyone who aspires to tyranthood or, say,
Plans to set a tyrant up;
Or someone who dares to let it be known
That a woman’s baby is not her own;693
Or a servant who lets his mistress down
By giving away to the master her secret lover’s name,694
Or comes back from an errand with an erroneous answer;
