Aristophanes: The Complete Plays

by Aristophanes

  and never will be.

  What you’re going on about so pat

  is beggary,

  A life not owing anything,

  whereas poverty

  Means owing something if only a little

  and being thrifty,

  And working hard and scraping by,

  but not at all

  Lacking what is really necessary

  CHREMYLUS: You make it all sound so nice,

  you do, by deuce:

  The scrimping and slaving away

  till the final

  Having nothing salted away

  for the funeral.

  POVERTY: You’re not serious and you think you’re funny

  but you won’t admit

  That I raise better men than Wealth

  with all his money.

  In mind and body they’re much more fit

  but with him,

  They’re gouty, have swollen limbs

  and bloated tummies.

  They’re also obscenely fat,

  but with me

  They’re slim, wasp-waisted, and defeat

  the enemy.

  CHREMYLUS: They get that wasp waist by starvation,

  I would bet.

  POVERTY: Let’s take morals then,

  and I’ll give a demonstration

  That with me good conduct lies,

  with Wealth, conceit.

  CHREMYLUS: Good conduct, I suppose, implies

  violence and theft.

  BLEPSIDEMUS: And the modesty to keep out of sight

  while they abuse.965

  POVERTY:966 Just look at our politicians in every town:

  when they are poor they behave properly,

  but after they’ve fleeced the treasury and waxed wealthy

  they change their tune,

  undermining democracy and turning against the people.

  CHREMYLUS: Well, you’re right there and I won’t quibble,

  though you’re still a nasty old crone

  and mustn’t expect to get off lightly

  after trying to make out that poverty

  is superior to wealth.

  POVERTY: But you’ve still given me no proof

  that I am wrong. All you’ve done

  is wave your arms about and froth at the mouth.

  CHREMYLUS: All right, but how come everyone avoids you?

  POVERTY: Because I discipline them,

  and they react the same way that children do

  when their fathers try to better them.

  Oh it’s difficult to know what’s best to do.

  CHREMYLUS: No doubt you’ll now say that not even Zeus

  knows what’s best to do,

  and he’s endowed with wealth, too.

  BLEPSIDEMUS: And lets this old hag loose on us!

  POVERTY: What blinkered ancient crocks you are—both of you!

  Actually Zeus is poor, which I can prove.

  Why is it if he were wealthy

  that when he gets everybody together

  every fourth year for the games at Olympia

  and he celebrates the triumphant athletes with crowns of wild olive,

  why isn’t it with crowns of gold?

  CHREMYLUS: That only shows that Zeus is thrifty and not naive. He has a great respect for wealth and doesn’t waste it: he decorates the winners with trash and keeps the cash.

  POVERTY: What you’re really saying is that Zeus is something

  worse

  than poor—if he’s really loaded

  but behaves like the greediest thing alive.

  CHREMYLUS: I hope that Zeus exterminates you after crowning you

  with wild olive.

  POVERTY: You’ve got a nerve,

  going on implying that poverty’s not the origin

  of our every blessing.

  CHREMYLUS: That’s something that only Hecate can answer:967

  whether it’s better to be rich or poor.

  One thing she’s bound to tell you

  is that the rich put down a monthly meal for her,

  which the poor grab even before it hits the floor.

  Now go to hell,

  Stop whining and be off.

  No matter what you say

  I’ll never see it your way.

  POVERTY: City of Argos, are you there?968

  CHREMYLUS: Call Pauson your messmate here.969

  POVERTY: This is more than I can bear.

  CHREMYLUS: Get lost and do it fast.

  POVERTY: I am going, but going where?

  CHREMYLUS: To the stocks. Go at last.

  POVERTY: All right, but I want you to know: One day you’ll call me back—both of you.

  [POVERTY exits, as CHREMYLUS shouts after her.]

  CHREMYLUS: Fine! We can wait till then.

  Meanwhile, go to the dogs.

  You can talk your head off, bitch,

  But I’d rather be rich.

  BLEPSIDEMUS: My God, you’re right! And as for me, I’m going to luxuriate Among my wife and kids and take A bath, and I’ll step out of it All glisteningly And fart in the face Of Poverty.

  CHREMYLUS: And now that we’ve got that hag to scram Let’s go as quick as we can, The two of us, and lead the god To Aesclepius’ holy shrine And there lay him down in bed.

  BLEPSIDEMUS: Yes, so we mustn’t tarry Lest someone else arrives And spoils our plans and makes us sorry.

  CHREMYLUS: [calling into the house]

  Cario, my lad, bring out the bedding

  And bring out Plutus, the man himself,

  As is only fitting.

  Yes, bring everything.

  [CARIO and the other household SERVANTS bustle about with bedding and baggage, then lead out PLUTUS for the trip to the sanctuary of Aesclepius. All leave the stage and the CHORUS performs an interlude with dance and music, at the end of which CARIO enters. It is the morning of the next day.]

  CARIO: [beaming] Hey, you oldsters, who at many a feast

  for Theseus have slurped up bowls of soup

  with crumbled bread, you are most fortunate—yes, truly blessed,

  like everyone who shares your fellowship.

  LEADER: You best of all your fellow slaves, what’s up? You look as though you come with happy news.

  CARIO: My master’s had a masterstroke of luck,

  or rather, Plutus has—oh yes,

  no longer blind, with shining eyes he sees,

  thanks to his healing by Aesclepius.

  LEADER: This calls for cheers, this happy news.

  CARIO: Cheer away, then, willy-nilly.

  LEADER: [breaking into song] Blessed Aesclepius, let me raise For you and your children a shout of praise, You shining light for humanity.

  [The WIFE of CHREMYLUS comes hurrying out of the house.]

  WIFE: What’s all the shouting about? Has somebody brought

  exciting news: something that I’ve yearned to hear,

  someone I’ve sat waiting for?

  CARIO: Quick, quick, bring out the wine, dear madam. You’ve got a good excuse because I’m going to smother you with blessings.

  WIFE: Where are they, then?

  CARIO: You’ll hear them from me in a moment.

  WIFE: Very well, get on with it.

  CARIO: Are you ready? I’ll break the whole damn

  news to you from head to foot.

  WIFE: Just the news, please. Keep it off my head.

  CARIO: Even good news?

  WIFE: Yes, stick to the facts.

  CARIO: All right . . . As soon as we had reached the shrine

  with the wretched wreck that’s

  now so glorious and happy,

  the first thing we did

  was take him to the sea and wash him.

  WIFE: [with withering sarcasm] What a lovely idea, dipping an old man in the freezing sea!

  CARIO: Then we went inside the god’s holy home

  and after we’d burned the offerings of cakes and barley

  (exc
ellent fuel for Hephaestus’ flame),970

  we tucked him up nicely in his bed

  and lay down ourselves on our mattresses.

  WIFE: Were there any other patients at the shrine?

  CARIO: There was a certain Neocleides,971

  quite blind but with a sharper eye for theft than anyone with

  sight.

  There were many others, too, all with different diseases.

  Then the temple warden put out the lights

  and told us to go to sleep and not to speak

  even if we heard noises.

  So we lay down dutifully but I couldn’t sleep

  because a pot of stew near some old lady’s head

  was driving me frantic

  and the urge I had to crawl towards it was quite demonic,

  but looking up I saw the temple steward

  helping himself to cakes and figs from the sacrificial table

  and then making the rounds of all the tables

  to see what titbits still remained:

  which he duly dedicated to his sack.

  I couldn’t help admiring his sense of dedication,

  so I got up and made that pot of stew my destination.

  WIFE: You scalawag, had you no fear of the god?

  CARIO: Of course I had. I was terrified

  he’d beat me to the pot—

  all garlanded and that.

  The priest had shown me what I could expect.

  When the old lady became alert

  to the noise I was making, she thrust her hand into the pot,

  and I hissed and bit it like a snake.

  She pulled out her hand at once

  and collapsed into total silence,

  swaddled in her blanket and farting away with funk,

  and stinking like a damned skunk.

  That’s when I fell upon the stew,

  and stuffed myself to the gills

  until I was almost ready to spew.

  WIFE: But didn’t the god Aesclepius approach you?

  CARIO: No, he was about to

  when a funny thing happened. He was all set,

  when my overloaded stomach let out a snort.

  WIFE: It must have filled him with disgust.

  CARIO: No, but Iaso, who was behind him, blushed

  and Panacaea held her nose and turned away.972

  I don’t fart incense, you know!

  WIFE: Did the god, too?

  CARIO: He took no notice whatever.

  WIFE: Are you stating the god’s a clod?

  CARIO: Not at all, only an excreta eater.

  WIFE: You’re such a card!

  CARIO: After that I quickly went undercover,

  while the god methodically went his rounds,

  inspecting every case.

  His assistant then produced a stone mortar,

  a pestle, and a box.

  WIFE: Of stone?

  CARIO: No, that was the mortar.

  WIFE: But you’d put yourself undercover, you liar,

  so how did you see all this?

  CARIO: Through the chinks, of course,

  all those holes in my gown. . . . So first he pounds

  a plaster for Neocleides

  consisting of three cloves of Tenian garlic,973

  a dash of fig juice, and mastic spurge all mashed up in the mortar

  and soused in Sphettian vinegar.974

  This he smears on the man’s eyelids, turning them back

  to make them smart the more.

  Neocleides sprang up yelling

  and tried to bolt, but Aesclepius just laughed and said:

  “You’re nicely plastered up. Stay where you are.

  This will stop you making

  a nuisance of yourself with your briefs in the Assembly.”

  WIFE: How patriotic and how knowing!

  CARIO: Then he sat down next to Plutus and felt his head

  and wiped his eyelids with a strip of clean linen

  while Panacaea covered his face and head with a crimson

  napkin.

  Next, the god gave a whistle

  and two snakes slipped out of the temple.

  They were enormous.

  WIFE: Good heavens!

  CARIO: They slid silently underneath the napkin

  and as far as I could tell began to lick around the eyes.

  Then, madam, before you could down a quart of wine,

  good old Plutus stood up seeing.

  I clapped my hands in delirious applause

  and aroused my master as the god was disappearing

  into the shrine, and the serpents, too.

  Imagine the joy of those who were reposing

  next to Plutus, all those who

  stayed up the rest of the night, embracing him and rejoicing

  till the new day’s light.

  My admiration of the god knew no end,

  both for giving Plutus back his sight

  and making Neocleides more blind.

  WIFE: What a show of power, O great Aesclepius, lord! But now pray tell me, where is Plutus?

  CARIO: He’s coming, surrounded by a huge crowd:

  people who’ve lived good but stinted lives,

  all dying to welcome him and shake his hand.

  There are also others, the rich and well endowed

  who became so by dishonest ways.

  These were scowling and wrinkling their brows.

  But the former were chasing along behind,

  laughing and shouting out their gratitude

  while old men drummed their shoes.

  [turning to the CHORUS]

  So come along all of you: skip, strut, and dance in parade.

  Never again will you come home and find

  there’s not a grain to eat in your domain.

  WIFE: Hurrah, holy Hecate! Bravo, bringer of such good news, I swear I could garland you with cakes!

  CARIO: Don’t hesitate. The crowds are almost on our threshold.

  WIFE: Good, I’ll go and get the birthday cookies

  to celebrate the born-again eyes.

  CARIO: And I’ll go to welcome the arriving crowd.

  [The WIFE goes into the house as CARIO takes up his position outside one of the gates. Meanwhile the CHORUS performs an interlude of dance and music, at the end of which PLUTUS enters. He looks like he has shed about twenty years and there is a spring in his step.]

  PLUTUS: First of all let me bow to the Sun,

  then Athena’s glorious earth of Athens

  and the whole of Attica.

  And now let me make it plain

  how embarrassed I am by the way I used to batten

  on the well-to-do, though I was unaware,

  and how I kept aloof from those who merited my company.

  It’s sad that I should have made

  so glaring a mistake in both these matters.

  But now I intend to undo it

  and demonstrate to all that I never meant

  to give myself to such evildoers.

  [CHREMYLUS and CARIO appear: CHREMYLUS breathless and trying to get away from the crowds pursuing PLUTUS, and CARIO from the house.]

  CHREMYLUS: Damn the lot of you! What an ordeal fair-weather friends can be!

  They appear from nowhere if you’re doing well,

  barging into you, bruising your shins, all

  trying to show they’re your bosom crony.

  There’s not one who hasn’t accosted me,

  nor any of those old men in the market square

  who hasn’t tried to garland me.

  [WIFE comes out of the house with a tray of goodies.]

  WIFE: You darling men, both of you, here you are! Now, Plutus, let me do what they always used to do and hold you under a shower of candy.

  PLUTUS: Please, I’d rather not. This is the first house I’ve entered with my born-again sight, so it’s not for you to bring anything out, but for me to put something in.

  WIFE: But wouldn’
t you like a cake?

  PLUTUS: Yes, but not here—inside at the hearth. Let’s tread the traditional path. That way we don’t have to face all the silly slapstick that goes on, with the producer chucking figs and things at the audience to get a laugh.

  WIFE: Hear, hear! . . . Look, Demetrius975 has jumped up to scramble for figs.

  [All of them leave and the CHORUS performs another inter-act, after which CARIO enters from the house.]

  CARIO: How sweet it is, dear fellows, to lead a blessed life,

  especially when it costs us nothing!

  An avalanche of good things

  has fallen on this house even though we haven’t committed sins.

  Oh, there’s nothing like a life of wealth!

  Good white barley fills our bins.

  Our casks are flush with dusky fragrant wines.

  Our purses bulge with gold and silver past belief.

  Our vats are full of olive oil, our jars with scent,

  the loft with figs. Our plates and dishes,

  pots and pans, now are brass or copper,

  and those dreadful fish platters are gleaming silver,

  and even our lamp all of a sudden went

  ivory. And we servants play odds-or-even

  with gold staters for our pitchers.

  And instead of stones to wipe our bottoms with,976 now we are

  given cloves of garlic every time.

  At the moment our boss is in there garlanded and busy

  sacrificing pig and goat and ram,

  but the smoke is terrible in there and has made me scram.

  It stung my eyes and made me feel quite dizzy.

  [There enters an HONEST MAN with a BOY carrying a shabby cloak and an old pair of shoes.]

  HONEST MAN: Come on, lad, we’ll go and see the god.

  CARIO: Hi there. Who are you, I wonder?

  HONEST MAN: One whose life was crappy and now is happy.

  CARIO: I can see that you’re a gentleman.

  HONEST MAN: Of course!

  CARIO: And what is your pleasure?

  HONEST MAN: I’ve come to thank the god because he’s the cause

  of my good fortune.

  You see, I was once flush,

  with a handsome legacy from my father,

  and I decided to help my indigent friends,

  considering that the decent thing to do, and . . .