Delphi Complete Works of Aristophanes (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics)

by Aristophanes

  BOY. Father, would you give me something if I asked for it?

  CHORUS. Assuredly, my child, but tell me what nice thing do you want me to buy you? A set of knuckle-bones, I suppose.

  BOY. No, dad, I prefer figs; they are better.

  CHORUS. No, by Zeus! even if you were to hang yourself with vexation.

  BOY. Well then, I will lead you no father.

  CHORUS. With my small pay, I am obliged to buy bread, wood, stew; and now you ask me for figs!

  BOY. But, father, if the Archon should not form a court to-day, how are we to buy our dinner? Have you some good hope to offer us or merely “Hellé’s sacred waves”?

  CHORUS. Alas! alas! I have not a notion how we shall dine.

  BOY. Oh! my poor mother! why did you let me see this day?

  CHORUS. Oh! my little wallet! you seem like to be a mere useless ornament!

  BOY. ’Tis our destiny to groan.

  PHILOCLEON. My friends, I have long been pining away while listening to you from my window, but I absolutely know not what do do. I am detained here, because I have long wanted to go with you to the law court and do all the harm I can. Oh! Zeus! cause the peals of they thunder to roll, change me quickly into smoke or make me into a Proxenides, a perfect braggart, like the son of Sellus. Oh, King of Heaven! hesitate not to grant me this favour, pity my misfortune or else may thy dazzling lightning instantly reduce me to ashes; then carry me hence, and may thy breath hurl me into some burning pickle or turn me into one of the stones on which the votes are counted.

  CHORUS. Who is it detains you and shuts you in? Speak, for you are talking to friends.

  PHILOCLEON. ’Tis my son. But no bawling, he is there in front asleep; lower your voice.

  CHORUS. But, poor fellow, what is his aim? what is his object?

  PHILOCLEON. My friends, he will not have me judge nor do anyone any ill, but he wants me to stay at home and enjoy myself, and I will not.

  CHORUS. This wretch, this Demolochocleon dares to say such odious things, just because you tell the truth about our navy!

  PHILOCLEON. He would not have dared, had he not been a conspirator.

  CHORUS. Meanwhile, you must devise some new dodge, so that you can come down here without his knowledge.

  PHILOCLEON. But what? Try to find some way. For myself, I am ready for anything, so much do I burn to run along the tiers of the tribunal with my voting-pebble in my hand.

  CHORUS. There is surely some hole through which you could manage to squeeze from within, and escape dressed in rags, like the crafty Odysseus.

  PHILOCLEON. Everything is sealed fast; not so much as a gnat could get through. Think of some other plan; there is no possible hold of escape.

  CHORUS. Do you recall how, when you were with the army at the taking of Naxos, you descended so readily from the top of the wall by means of the spits you have stolen?

  PHILOCLEON. I remember that well enough, but what connection is there with present circumstances? I was young, clever at thieving, I had all my strength, none watched over me, and I could run off without fear. But to-day men-at-arms are placed at every outlet to watch me, and two of them are lying in wait for me at this very door armed with spits, just as folk lie in wait for a cat that has stolen a piece of meat.

  CHORUS. Come, discover some way as quick as possible. Here is the dawn come, my dear little friend.

  PHILOCLEON. The best way is to gnaw through the net. Oh! goddess, who watches over the nets, forgive me for making a hole in this one.

  CHORUS. ’Tis acting like a man eager for his safety. Get your jaws to work!

  PHILOCLEON. There! ’tis gnawed through! But no shouting! let Bdelycleon notice nothing!

  CHORUS. Have no fear, have no fear! if he breathes a syllable, ‘twill be to bruise his own knuckles; he will have to fight to defend his own head. We shall teach him not to insult the mysteries of the goddesses. But fasten a rope to the window, tie it around your body and let yourself down to the ground, with your heart bursting with the fury of Diopithes.

  PHILOCLEON. But if these notice it and want to fish me up and drag me back into the house, what will you do? Tell me that.

  CHORUS. We shall call up the full strength of out courage to your aid.

  That is what we will do.

  PHILOCLEON. I trust myself to you and risk the danger. If misfortune overtakes me, take away my body, bathe it with your tears and bury it beneath the bar of the tribunal.

  CHORUS. Nothing will happen to you, rest assured. Come friend, have courage and let yourself slide down while you invoke your country’s gods.

  PHILOCLEON. Oh! mighty Lycus! noble hero and my neighbour, thou, like myself, takest pleasure in the tears and the groans of the accused. If thou art come to live near the tribunal, ’tis with the express design of hearing them incessantly; thou alone of all the heroes hast wished to remain among those who weep. Have pity on me and save him, who lives close to thee; I swear I will never make water, never, nor relieve my belly with a fart against the railing of thy statue.

  BDELYCLEON. Ho there! ho! get up!

  SOSIAS. What’s the matter?

  BDELYCLEON. Methought I heard talking close to me.

  SOSIAS. Is the old man at it again, escaping through some loophole?

  BDELYCLEON. No, by Zeus! no, but he is letting himself down by a rope.

  SOSIAS. Ha, rascal! what are you doing there? You shall not descend.

  BDELYCLEON. Mount quick to the other window, strike him with the boughs that hang over the entrance; perchance he will turn back when he feels himself being thrashed.

  PHILOCLEON. To the rescue! all you, who are going to have lawsuits this year — Smicythion, Tisiades, Chremon and Pheredipnus. ’Tis now or never, before they force me to return, that you must help.

  CHORUS. Why do we delay to let loose that fury, that is so terrible, when our nests are attacked? I feel my angry sting is stiffening, that sharp sting, with which we punish our enemies. Come, children, cast your cloaks to the winds, run, shout, tell Cleon what is happening, that he may march against this foe to our city, who deserves death, since he proposes to prevent the trial of lawsuits.

  BDELYCLEON. Friends, listen to the truth, instead of bawling.

  CHORUS. By Zeus! we will shout to heaven and never forsake our friend.

  Why, this is intolerable, ’tis manifest tyranny. Oh! citizens, oh!

  Theorus, the enemy of the gods! and all you flatterers, who rule us!

  come to our aid.

  XANTHIAS. By Heracles! they have stings. Do you see them, master?

  BDELYCLEON. ’Twas with these weapons that they killed Philippus the son of Gorgias when he was put on trial.

  CHORUS. And you too shall die. Turn yourselves this way, all, with your stings out for attack and throw yourselves upon him in good and serried order, and swelled up with wrath and rage. Let him learn to know the sort of foes he has dared to irritate.

  XANTHIAS. The fight will be fast and furious, by great Zeus! I tremble at the sight of their stings.

  CHORUS. Let this man go, unless you want to envy the tortoise his hard shell.

  PHILOCLEON. Come, my dear companions, wasps with relentless hearts, fly against him, animated with your fury. Sting him in the back, in his eyes and on his fingers.

  BDELYCLEON. Midas, Phryx, Masyntias, here! Come and help. Seize this man and hand him over to no one, otherwise you shall starve to death in chains. Fear nothing, I have often heard the crackling of fig-leaves in the fire.

  CHORUS. If you won’t let him go, I shall bury this sting in your body.

  PHILOCLEON. Oh, Cecrops, mighty hero with the tail of a dragon! Seest thou how these barbarians ill-use me — me, who have many a time made them weep a full bushel of tears?

  CHORUS. Is not old age filled with cruel ills? What violence these two slaves offer to their old master! they have forgotten all bygones, the fur-coats and the jackets and the caps he bought for them; in winter he watched that their feet should not get frozen. And
only see them now; there is no gentleness in their look nor any recollection of the slippers of other days.

  PHILOCLEON. Will you let me go, you accursed animal? Don’t you remember the day when I surprised you stealing the grapes; I tied you to an olive-tree and I cut open your bottom with such vigorous lashes that folks thought you had been pedicated. Get away, you are ungrateful. But let go of me, and you too, before my son comes up.

  CHORUS. You shall repay us for all this and ‘twill not be long first.

  Tremble at our ferocious glance; you shall taste our just anger.

  BDELYCLEON. Strike! strike, Xanthias! Drive these wasps away from the house.

  XANTHIAS. That’s just what I am doing; but do you smoke them out thoroughly too.

  SOSIAS. You will not go? The plague seize you! Will you not clear off?

  Xanthias, strike them with your stick!

  XANTHIAS. And you, to smoke them out better, throw Aeschinus, the son of

  Selartius, on the fire. Ah! we were bound to drive you off in the end.

  BDELYCLEON. Eh! by Zeus! you would not have put them to flight so easily if they had fed on the verses of Philocles.

  CHORUS. It is clear to all the poor that tyranny has attacked us sorely. Proud emulator of Amynias, you, who only take pleasure in doing ill, see how you are preventing us from obeying the laws of the city; you do not even seek a pretext or any plausible excuse, but claim to rule alone.

  BDELYCLEON. Hold! A truce to all blows and brawling! Had we not better confer together and come to some understanding?

  CHORUS. Confer with you, the people’s foe! with you, a royalist, the accomplice of Brasidas! with you, who wear woollen fringes on your cloak and let your beard grow!

  BDELYCLEON. Ah! it were better to separate altogether from my father than to steer my boat daily through such stormy seas!

  CHORUS. Oh! you have but reached the parsley and the rue, to use the common saying. What you are suffering is nothing! but welcome the hour when the advocate shall adduce all these same arguments against you and shall summon your accomplices to give witness.

  BDELYCLEON. In the name of the gods! withdraw or we shall fight you the whole day long.

  CHORUS. No, not as long as I retain an atom of breath. Ha! your desire is to tyrannize over us!

  BDELYCLEON. Everything is now tyranny with us, no matter what is concerned, whether it be large or small. Tyranny! I have not heard the word mentioned once in fifty years, and now it is more common than salt-fish, the word is even current on the market. If you are buying gurnards and don’t want anchovies, the huckster next door, who is selling the latter, at once exclaims, “That is a man, whose kitchen savours of tyranny!” If you ask for onions to season your fish, the green-stuff woman winks one eye and asks, “Ha! you ask for onions! are you seeking to tyrannize, or do you think that Athens must pay you your seasonings as a tribute?”

  XANTHIAS. Yesterday I went to see a gay girl about noon and suggested she should mount and ride me; she flew into a rage, pretending I wanted to restore the tyranny of Hippias.

  BDELYCLEON. That’s the talk that pleases the people! As for myself, I want my father to lead a joyous life like Morychus instead of going away before dawn to basely calumniate and condemn; and for this I am accused of conspiracy and tyrannical practice!

  PHILOCLEON. And quite right too, by Zeus! The most exquisite dishes do not make up to me for the life of which you deprive me. I scorn your red mullet and your eels, and would far rather eat a nice little law suitlet cooked in the pot.

  BDELYCLEON. ’Tis because you have got used to seeking your pleasure in it; but if you will agree to keep silence and hear me, I think I could persuade you that you deceive yourself altogether.

  PHILOCLEON. I deceive myself, when I am judging?

  BDELYCLEON. You do not see that you are the laughing-stock of these men, whom you are ready to worship. You are their slave and do not know it.

  PHILOCLEON. I a slave, I, who lord it over all!

  BDELYCLEON. Not at all, you think you are ruling when you are only obeying. Tell me, father, what do you get out of the tribute paid by so many Greek towns?

  PHILOCLEON. Much, and I appoint my colleagues jurymen.

  BDELYCLEON. And I also. Release him, all of you, and bring me a sword. If my arguments do not prevail I will fall upon this blade. As for you, tell me whether you accept the verdict of the Court.

  PHILOCLEON. May I never drink my Heliast’s pay in honour of the good

  Genius, if I do not.

  CHORUS. Tis now we have to draw upon our arsenal for some fresh weapon; above all do not side with this youth in his opinions. You see how serious the question has become; ‘twill be all over with us, which the gods forfend, if he should prevail.

  BDELYCLEON. Let someone bring me my tablets with all speed!

  CHORUS. Your tablets? Ha, ha! what an importance you would fain assume!

  BDELYCLEON. I merely wish to note down my father’s points.

  PHILOCLEON. But what will you say of it, if he should triumph in the debate?

  CHORUS. That old men are no longer good for anything; we shall be perpetually laughed at in the streets, shall be called thallophores, mere brief-bags. You are to be the champion of all our rights and sovereignty. Come, take courage! Bring into action all the resources of your wit.

  PHILOCLEON. At the outset I will prove to you that there exists no king whose might is greater than ours. Is there a pleasure, a blessing comparable with that of a juryman? Is there a being who lives more in the midst of delights, who is more feared, aged though he be? From the moment I leave my bed, men of power, the most illustrious in the city, await me at the bar of the tribunal; the moment I am seen from the greatest distance, they come forward to offer me a gentle hand, — that has pilfered the public funds; they entreat me, bowing right low and with a piteous voice, “Oh! father,” they say, “pity me, I adjure you by the profit you were able to make in the public service or in the army, when dealing with the victuals.” Why, the man who thus speaks would not know of my existence, had I not let him off on some former occasion.

  BDELYCLEON. Let us note this first point, the supplicants.

  PHILOCLEON. These entreaties have appeased my wrath, and I enter — firmly resolved to do nothing that I have promised. Nevertheless I listen to the accused. Oh! what tricks to secure acquittal! Ah! there is no form of flattery that is not addressed to the heliast! Some groan over their poverty and they exaggerate the truth in order to make their troubles equal to my own. Others tell us anecdotes or some comic story from Aesop. Others, again, cut jokes; they fancy I shall be appeased if I laugh. If we are not even then won over, why, then they drag forward their young children by the hand, both boys and girls, who prostrate themselves and whine with one accord, and then the father, trembling as if before a god, beseeches me not to condemn him out of pity for them, “If you love the voice of the lamb, have pity on my son’s”; and because I am fond of little sows, I must yield to his daughter’s prayers. Then we relax the heat of our wrath a little for him. Is not this great power indeed, which allows even wealth to be disdained?

  BDELYCLEON. A second point to note, the disdain of wealth. And now recall to me what are the advantages you enjoy, you, who pretend to rule over Greece?

  PHILOCLEON. Being entrusted with the inspection of the young men, we have a right to examine their organs. Is Aeagrus accused, he is not acquitted before he has recited a passage from ‘Niobe’ and he chooses the finest. If a flute-player gains his case, he adjusts his mouth-strap in return and plays us the final air while we are leaving. A father on his death-bed names some husband for his daughter, who is his sole heir; but we care little for his will or for the shell so solemnly placed over the seal; we give the young maiden to him who has best known how to secure our favour. Name me another duty that is so important and so irresponsible.

  BDELYCLEON. Aye, ’tis a fine privilege, and the only one on which I can congratulate you; but surely to violate the will is
to act badly towards the heiress.

  PHILOCLEON. And if the Senate and the people have trouble in deciding some important case, it is decreed to send the culprits before the heliasts; then Euathlus and the illustrious Colaconymus, who cast away his shield, swear not to betray us and to fight for the people. Did ever an orator carry the day with his opinion if he had not first declared that the jury should be dismissed for the day as soon as they had given their first verdict? We are the only ones whom Cleon, the great bawler, does not badger. On the contrary, he protects and caresses us; he keeps off the flies, which is what you have never done for your father. Theorus, who is a man not less illustrious than Euphemius, takes the sponge out of the pot and blacks our shoes. See then what good things you deprive and despoil me of. Pray, is this obeying or being a slave, as you pretended to be able to prove?

  BDELYCLEON. Talk away to your heart’s content; you must come to a stop at last and then you shall see that this grand power only resembles one of those things that, wash ‘em as you will, remain as foul as ever.

  PHILOCLEON. But I am forgetting the most pleasing thing of all. When I return home with my pay, everyone runs to greet me because of my money. First my daughter bathes me, anoints my feet, stoops to kiss me and, while she is calling me “her dearest father,” fishes out my triobolus with her tongue; then my little wife comes to wheedle me and brings a nice light cake; she sits beside me and entreats me in a thousand ways, “Do take this now; do have some more.” All this delights me hugely, and I have no need to turn towards you or the steward to know when it shall please him to serve my dinner, all the while cursing and grumbling. But if he does not quickly knead my cake, I have this, which is my defence, my shield against all ills. If you do not pour me out drink, I have brought this long-eared jar full of wine. How it brays, when I bend back and bury its neck in my mouth! What terrible and noisy gurglings, and how I laugh at your wine-skins. As to power, am I not equal to the king of the gods? If our assembly is noisy, all say as they pass, “Great gods! the tribunal is rolling out its thunder!” If I let loose the lightning, the richest, aye, the noblest are half dead with fright and shit themselves with terror. You yourself are afraid of me, yea, by Demeter! you are afraid.