Lysistrata

by Flora, Fletcher

  “Mistress,” said Theoris, “Calonice, wife of Acron, is waiting for you.”

  “Calonice?” Lysistrata turned to Theoris with a look of surprise. “Calonice again? It was only the day before yesterday that she was here.”

  “Nevertheless, she has returned today. She is waiting in the court near the statue of Hestia.”

  “Whatever can she want?”

  “That, not knowing, I can’t say. I can say, however, that she seems somewhat agitated.”

  “Really? How strange! Calonice is ordinarily as placid as a cow. Something quite disturbing must have happened to her.”

  “Well, perhaps I have expressed it too strongly. Let me think of a softer word.”

  “Now I am not so astonished. You must admit, Theoris, that there’s considerable difference. One can be pleasurably excited. Calonice is excited frequently, in a cow-like way, but I can’t remember ever seeing her in a state of agitation. I wish you would try to be more precise.”

  “I’m sorry. Truly, I’m a deplorable ignoramus.”

  “Well, never mind. You are loyal and diligent and pleasantly pretty, and I cannot expect you to be educated besides. And now, since we have revised your judgment of what I may anticipate, I had better go at once and see what Calonice wants. Did you say she is in the court?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Lysistrata went out to meet Calonice, and Theoris lingered in the kitchen to have her behind patted by the cook. There were virtues in the cook, as Theoris had learned, of which Lysistrata was not aware, and his exceptional talent was by no means limited to the preparation of Boeotian eels.

  “You’re a naughty fellow,” she said.

  “That’s what you say every time.”

  “Because you are a naughty fellow every time. You’re lewd and vulgar, that’s what you are. You must always be pinching and patting.”

  “Oh, come off. You like to be pinched and patted.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Because you make yourself available. Do you think I’m a fool, just because I had the misfortune to be made a slave? If you don’t like to be pinched and patted, you have only to stay out of reach?”

  “I permit it only to tease you. I know what you’re after, all right, and it’s much more fun to refuse you if you are properly eager.”

  “If you try such business with me, you are likely to end up in the chowder.”

  “What a violent fellow you are! Besides being naughty, you are violent and dominating. I’m absolutely terrified!”

  “You can mock if you wish, but you will learn that I am not a man to be trifled with. Moreover, it doesn’t become you to be so conceited. In spite of being pretty and having a tempting behind, you are nothing but an ignorant slave.”

  “Well, just hear who’s calling who an ignorant slave! Have you, perhaps, been elevated to citizenship overnight?”

  “It’s true that I am a slave, just as you, but it’s also true that I am a master of my trade, which is highly esteemed in Athens, and therefore I am exceptional and to a degree honored.”

  “Indeed! It may interest you to know that I am a master of my trade, too, which is the trade of all women, whether they are citizens or slaves, and if you were not such an ugly and offensive fellow, I might be tempted to prove it to you.”

  “If you don’t watch your step, you may be required to prove it whether you are tempted or not. Tease me indeed! One would think, to hear you talk, that you were the most accomplished temptress, rather than a simple house slave who is excited to the grossest vanity just because someone occasionally pinches her behind. Perhaps you are afflicted with delusions of grandeur because you have the same name as the famous Theoris who slept with all the Athenian Generals and peddled their secrets to the Persians.”

  “I know nothing about Theoris or Athenian Generals or Persians, but I don’t mind telling you that I am now receiving instruction from the Mistress, who is about as accomplished an instructor as one could wish.”

  “Your loose tongue will surely get you into trouble. What do you mean, you foolish wench, instruction from the Mistress?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Oh, I know what you mean, all right. You’ve been peeping at night, that’s what you mean, and if you get caught at it you will not have enough skin left on your behind to pinch.”

  “That’s a lie. I have not been peeping. Moreover, if you want to know, there is nothing to peep at.”

  “Nothing to peep at! With the Master just back from Pylos after seven months? You are certainly as green as grass, in spite of your big talk, and there’s no question about it.”

  “You may accuse me of anything you like, but it is true just the same. You are not as close to the intimate affairs of this house as I am, and I assure you that the Master has not been permitted to take his feet off the floor of the Mistress’s room since returning home.”

  “Careful! If you are determined to lie, you had at least better tell one that is reasonable!”

  “Oh, well, if you don’t care to believe me, you needn’t think it makes the slightest difference to me. I’m only trying to keep you informed of affairs, which is hopeless, I suppose, since you are obviously stupid as well as ugly and vulgar.”

  “Why should she do such a monstrous thing? Furthermore, why should he let her get away with it? Can you answer those questions?”

  “As to why he lets her, I can’t answer. But she is doing it in rebellion against the war. She will not have anything more to do with him until he refuses to do with it.”

  “I’m actually beginning to believe you. Surely you could have no purpose in making up a fantastic tale like this.”

  “It’s true. She’s rebelling against the war.”

  “Well, I am against the war myself, since it made a slave of me, but I declare that this is carrying things too far. If I were the Master, I would know how to lay this rebellion promptly.”

  “That, of course, is the exact remedy, and if you know how to accomplish it, you had better confer with the Master at once, for he apparently doesn’t.”

  “I’ll mind my own business, that’s what I’ll do. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do the same.”

  “I am not involved, being a slave, but my feelings are on the side of the Mistress. I agree that men have been allowed to behave like idiots in regard to this war far longer than should be essential to their silly pride.”

  “What do you know about the war?”

  “I know a great deal, for the Mistress has instructed me.”

  “It seems to me that the Mistress has been instructing you in a good many matters, directly or indirectly.”

  “That’s true. We are on good terms and frequently exchange pleasantries and even intimacies.”

  “I imagine you are also her private spy and make reports on the activities of the other household slaves.”

  “Do you, really? If so, perhaps you had better mend your manners.”

  “If you don’t want to find yourself simmering in the pot in little pieces, you had better not peddle any tales about me.”

  “I am tempted, as a matter of fact, to tell her that you pinch and pat my behind in an offensive manner.”

  “In that case, I may as well give you the evidence to prove it.”

  Reaching for her quickly with a strong hand, he gave her a pinch that was calculated to leave a beautiful bruise, and she fled with a squeal from the kitchen.

  8

  LYSISTRATA FOUND Calonice, as Theoris had directed, waiting in the court near the statue of Hestia. It was apparent at once, even from a distance, that Calonice was truly in a state of excitement. Her dark eyes sparkled, her body seemed actually to vibrate beneath its peplos, and she looked at Lysistrata as if the latter had somehow undergone metamorphosis since the day before yesterday, becoming in the interim a strange and incredible person.

  “What on earth has happened to you, Calonice?” Lysistrata said. “You look as if you were in danger of e
xploding at any moment.”

  “I don’t believe it for an instant,” Calonice said. “I didn’t believe you were capable of it when you were advocating such a course for me, and I don’t believe it now.”

  “Will you kindly be good enough to tell me what it is you don’t believe?”

  “You know perfectly well what it is. Acron has told me that you refused accommodation to Lycon. Is it true? If you tell me that it is, I suppose I’ll be compelled to believe it then, but I shall find it difficult.

  “May I ask how Acron happens to be informed on such a matter?”

  “Why, Lycon told him, of course. Or so he claims. How else would he become informed?”

  “I am astonished that he’s informed at all. In fact, it is quite distressing and is further evidence of masculine irresponsibility. Men are always accusing us of having loose tongues, but they themselves cannot retain the most delicate matters. Do you suppose it becomes a topic of conversation in the marketplace every time we make love?”

  “I do wish you wouldn’t try to evade answering my question, Lysistrata. Besides, this is not a case of Lycon’s reporting that you made love, but that you refused to do so. You will have to admit that there’s a distinction.”

  “The principle, I think, is the same.”

  “Well, you may be as technical as you choose about it, but all I want to know is, is it true or not true?”

  “It is perfectly true.”

  “That was the night before last, however. I imagine that conditions have changed since then.”

  “On the contrary, conditions are exactly the same.”

  “It’s absolutely incredible. As I thought, I am having difficulty believing it. Could you possibly have a motive for lying about such a matter?”

  “That’s something you will have to determine for yourself, although I feel obligated to say that I resent your attitude somewhat, Calonice. I advised you to adopt such a policy with Acron, and now I have adopted it with Lycon, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “What, may I ask, do you hope to gain from such a policy, besides depriving yourself needlessly of simple pleasure which is available, because of the war, all too seldom at best?”

  “Perhaps I hope to make it available more frequently. Regularly, as a matter of fact. At any rate, I am determined to play for all or nothing. Lycon will stay sensibly at home and be a husband, or I shall quit being a wife. This is, in my opinion, a perfectly fair position.”

  “Suppose he refuses to concede.”

  “Then I have no husband, and he has no wife. Since this is a state which prevails most of the time anyhow, the loss would not be nearly so great as might be at first imagined. On the other hand, the gain, if I am successful, will be considerable.”

  “I see that you have thought the matter through admirably.”

  “If I do say so myself, I believe I have. I have even considered the consequences if all the wives of Athens were to follow my example.”

  “The first consequence, as I see it, would be to drive all the husbands into the arms of the hetairai and the pornai of the Piraeus immediately. Do you wish us to be replaced entirely by whores?”

  “The hetairai and the pornai don’t have enough arms to take care of all the husbands. Besides, such women are not satisfactory indefinitely and would fail to provide adequate compensation. When a man loses a wife, he loses more than a bedmate, as you know. He loses a mother and a housekeeper and a priestess and a minor physician, and most of all he loses what he considers in his heart a piece of property. This is the hardest possible blow to his foolish pride, as well as to his sense of economy.”

  “Do you really imagine that the wives of Athens would follow you in such a program?”

  “It’s at least conceivable.”

  “And if so, do you imagine the husbands would come to terms?”

  “That’s also conceivable.”

  “What then? Do the Spartans invade Attica and slaughter us all in our beds while we are making up lost time?”

  “You are pursuing the same line of questioning as Lycon last night, and I will give you the same answer. It would be necessary, of course, to arrange matters so that the Spartans would be occupied at home as we would be. Also the Boeotians and all the other parties to this stupid and boring war.”

  “Under the same kind of coercion?”

  “Precisely.”

  “A world revolution of wives?”

  “All the world of immediate consequence to us, at any rate.”

  “Lysistrata, I declare that you are suffering from delusions of grandeur.”

  “Not at all. I conceive of women united in good sense, which is surely no more impossible than the union for twenty years of men in idiocy.”

  “Do you expect the men to capitulate immediately?”

  “Not immediately.”

  “After how long?”

  “I’ll not venture an exact prediction. Sooner than you might think, I dare say.”

  “It would require organization and simultaneous action.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “I cannot think how you even begin to accomplish it.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “Yes, I am. I admit that also. Acron would certainly beat me unmercifully and do as he pleased in spite of my protests.”

  “This might be uncomfortable for you, but it would be little or no satisfaction to him. Passive resistance will accomplish wonders.”

  “That’s easy enough to say, but in the matter of accommodation I confess that I invariably have an irresistible urge to cooperate actively.”

  “Consider the ultimate objective, Calonice. Would you rather eat a seed than grow an olive tree?”

  “Well, I refuse to become involved with figures of speech. They are only confusing to me and cause me to see virtues where none exist.”

  At that moment another woman entered the court and hurried across it toward Lysistrata and Calonice. She was tall and rather angular and walked with a flurry of elbows and knees. It was Nausica, wife of Cadmus, and she was obviously bursting with curiosity.

  “It is clear,” said Lysistrata, “that Cadmus has also had a report on affairs in my bed chamber, which he has promptly passed on, no doubt with embellishment, to our friend Nausica.”

  “As you say,” said Calonice, “it’s clear.”

  It was equally clear that Nausica had been walking rapidly and was short of breath. Without greetings, she began to speak in short bursts of words with little breaks between for gasps of air.

  “Can you imagine, Lysistrata, what that fool husband of mine, Cadmus, has told me? The most preposterous story, I assure you. He has told me that you have refused accommodation to Lycon.”

  “It’s true,” said Lysistrata. “I may as well admit it immediately.”

  “You are just in time,” said Calonice, “to be the first disciple of our friend Lysistrata, which is an honor I willingly relinquish. She is planning a world rebellion of wives.”

  “What’s this? What’s this? Explain yourself, please.”

  “I mean that she plans to organize all the wives of all the citizens of all the countries involved in the Peloponnesian War into a great rebellion. No husband shall be accommodated until peace is assured.”

  “What an absolute stroke of genius, Lysistrata! How ever did you think of it?”

  “Well, it began with my personal grievances and developed quite naturally from there.”

  “I knew at once that there was something more significant in this than Cadmus was willing to tell. The fool stuttered and stammered and related it most reluctantly. As a matter of fact, he volunteered nothing, and I had literally to force the truth from him after detecting that he was exceedingly disturbed. He is absolutely incapable of hiding his feelings, you know. What frightens him is that I may be influenced by the example.”

  “Why should you be influenced?” said Calonice. “It is well known that Cadmus does not go to war.”

  “True. He
is like a grandmother with his ailments, none of which seem to handicap him in the least bit after dark. On the other hand, I have reached a time when accommodation, except on special occasions, is more of a nuisance than a pleasure. I think I should find Lysistrata’s rebellion exciting and satisfying, to say nothing of a relief.”

  “Really?” said Lysistrata. “Do you consent, then, Nausica, to become my first disciple?”

  “I do. I declare this instant that I do.”

  “Good. I welcome you to the cause, and I must say that I admire you more than certain other people I could mention.”

  “Thank you. I believe, however, that this rebellion can never be sustained in the home. The wives could not hold out. We must fortify ourselves, Lysistrata.”

  “I agree that we must remove ourselves from temptation, and also from accessibility.”

  “What place do you suggest?”

  “There is only one place adequate.”

  “Not the Acropolis!”

  “Nothing else.”

  “Lysistrata, you are becoming more and more daring all the time. Could it be managed?”

  “I’m convinced that it could. The Acropolis is in the custody of old men who should be easily expelled by sufficiently determined women.”

  “Why, I am all over goose pimples in anticipation of it! We must work out our strategy most carefully.”

  “You are certainly right. Let us go inside and discuss it and have a little wine.”

  “I shall come, too,” said Calonice, “although I feel that I am sure to regret it later.”

  9

  LYCON WANDERED disconsolately around the square. The babble of voices and the ascendant cries of vendors, always previously so melodious in his ears, now struck him as a hideous cacophony. The antics of the clowns were the gyrations and contortions of a kind of sinister madness. The flower girls, in spite of romantic nonsense of poets to the contrary, were vulgar wenches without grace or glamour. Nothing was bright, nothing was sane, nothing was pleasing to the senses. It was absolutely intolerable, he thought, to submit any longer to such monstrous distortions of reality. Or of what he had once considered reality. The truth was, he had become so confused and depressed by events that he no longer had any faith in his ability to distinguish between what was real or normal and what was not. The only thing he knew with certainty was that he must return to Pylos at once for the sake of his dignity, if not for his very sanity. He had never before thought of Pylos as a refuge, but he did so now.