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

by Aristophanes

  ATHENIAN. Well said; we are of the same mind. Better call Lysistrata then; she is the only person will bring us to terms.

  LACONIAN. Yes, yes — and Lysistratus into the bargain, if you will.

  CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Needless to call her; she has heard your voices, and here she comes.

  ATHENIAN. Hail, boldest and bravest of womankind! The time is come to show yourself in turn uncompromising and conciliatory, exacting and yielding, haughty and condescending. Call up all your skill and artfulness. Lo! the foremost men in Hellas, seduced by your fascinations, are agreed to entrust you with the task of ending their quarrels.

  LYSISTRATA. ‘Twill be an easy task — if only they refrain from mutual indulgence in masculine love; if they do, I shall know the fact at once. Now, where is the gentle goddess Peace? Lead hither the Laconian Envoys. But, look you, no roughness or violence; our husbands always behaved so boorishly. Bring them to me with smiles, as women should. If any refuse to give you his hand, then catch him by the penis and draw him politely forward. Bring up the Athenians too; you may take them just how you will. Laconians, approach; and you, Athenians, on my other side. Now hearken all! I am but a woman; but I have good common sense; Nature has dowered me with discriminating judgment, which I have yet further developed, thanks to the wise teachings of my father and the elders of the city. First I must bring a reproach against you that applies equally to both sides. At Olympia, and Thermopylae, and Delphi, and a score of other places too numerous to mention, you celebrate before the same altars ceremonies common to all Hellenes; yet you go cutting each other’s throats, and sacking Hellenic cities, when all the while the Barbarian is yonder threatening you! That is my first point.

  ATHENIAN. Ah, ah! concupiscence is killing me!

  LYSISTRATA. Now ’tis to you I address myself, Laconians. Have you forgotten how Periclides, your own countryman, sat a suppliant before our altars? How pale he was in his purple robes! He had come to crave an army of us; ’twas the time when Messenia was pressing you sore, and the Sea-god was shaking the earth. Cimon marched to your aid at the head of four thousand hoplites, and saved Lacedaemon. And, after such a service as that, you ravage the soil of your benefactors!

  ATHENIAN. They do wrong, very wrong, Lysistrata.

  LACONIAN. We do wrong, very wrong. Ah! great gods! what lovely thighs she has!

  LYSISTRATA. And now a word to the Athenians. Have you no memory left of how, in the days when ye wore the tunic of slaves, the Laconians came, spear in hand, and slew a host of Thessalians and partisans of Hippias the Tyrant? They, and they only, fought on your side on that eventful day; they delivered you from despotism, and thanks to them our Nation could change the short tunic of the slave for the long cloak of the free man.

  LACONIAN. I have never seen a woman of more gracious dignity.

  ATHENIAN. I have never seen a woman with a finer cunt!

  LYSISTRATA. Bound by such ties of mutual kindness, how can you bear to be at war? Stop, stay the hateful strife, be reconciled; what hinders you?

  LACONIAN. We are quite ready, if they will give us back our rampart.

  LYSISTRATA. What rampart, my dear man?

  LACONIAN. Pylos, which we have been asking for and craving for ever so long.

  ATHENIAN. In the Sea-god’s name, you shall never have it!

  LYSISTRATA. Agree, my friends, agree.

  ATHENIAN. But then what city shall we be able to stir up trouble in?

  LYSISTRATA. Ask for another place in exchange.

  ATHENIAN. Ah! that’s the ticket! Well, to begin with, give us Echinus, the Maliac gulf adjoining, and the two legs of Megara.

  LACONIAN. Oh! surely, surely not all that, my dear sir.

  LYSISTRATA. Come to terms; never make a difficulty of two legs more or less!

  ATHENIAN. Well, I’m ready now to off coat and cultivate my land.

  LACONIAN. And I too, to dung it to start with.

  LYSISTRATA. That’s just what you shall do, once peace is signed. So, if you really want to make it, go consult your allies about the matter.

  ATHENIAN. What allies, I should like to know? Why, we are all on the stand; not one but is mad to be fucking. What we all want, is to be abed with our wives; how should our allies fail to second our project?

  LACONIAN. And ours the same, for certain sure!

  ATHENIANS. The Carystians first and foremost, by the gods!

  LYSISTRATA. Well said, indeed! Now be off to purify yourselves for entering the Acropolis, where the women invite you to supper; we will empty our provision baskets to do you honour. At table, you will exchange oaths and pledges; then each man will go home with his wife.

  ATHENIAN. Come along then, and as quick as may be.

  LACONIAN. Lead on; I’m your man.

  ATHENIAN. Quick, quick’s the word, say I.

  CHORUS OF WOMEN. Embroidered stuffs, and dainty tunics, and flowing gowns, and golden ornaments, everything I have, I offer them you with all my heart; take them all for your children, for your girls, against they are chosen “basket-bearers” to the goddess. I invite you every one to enter, come in and choose whatever you will; there is nothing so well fastened, you cannot break the seals, and carry away the contents. Look about you everywhere … you won’t find a blessed thing, unless you have sharper eyes than mine. And if any of you lacks corn to feed his slaves and his young and numerous family, why, I have a few grains of wheat at home; let him take what I have to give, a big twelve-pound loaf included. So let my poorer neighbours all come with bags and wallets; my man, Manes, shall give them corn; but I warn them not to come near my door, or — beware the dog!

  A MARKET-LOUNGER. I say, you, open the door!

  A SLAVE. Go your way, I tell you. Why, bless me, they’re sitting down now; I shall have to singe ‘em with my torch to make ‘em stir! What an impudent lot of fellows!

  MARKET-LOUNGER. I don’t mean to budge.

  SLAVE. Well, as you must stop, and I don’t want to offend you — but you’ll see some queer sights.

  MARKET-LOUNGER. Well and good, I’ve no objection.

  SLAVE. No, no, you must be off — or I’ll tear your hair out, I will; be off, I say, and don’t annoy the Laconian Envoys; they’re just coming out from the banquet-hall.

  AN ATHENIAN. Such a merry banquet I’ve never seen before! The Laconians were simply charming. After the drink is in, why, we’re all wise men, all. It’s only natural, to be sure, for sober, we’re all fools. Take my advice, my fellow-countrymen, our Envoys should always be drunk. We go to Sparta; we enter the city sober; why, we must be picking a quarrel directly. We don’t understand what they say to us, we imagine a lot they don’t say at all, and we report home all wrong, all topsy-turvy. But, look you, to-day it’s quite different; we’re enchanted whatever happens; instead of Clitagoras, they might sing us Telamon, and we should clap our hands just the same. A perjury or two into the bargain, la! what does that matter to merry companions in their cups?

  SLAVE. But here they are back again! Will you begone, you loafing scoundrels.

  MARKET-LOUNGER. Ah ha! here’s the company coming out already.

  A LACONIAN. My dear, sweet friend, come, take your flute in hand; I would fain dance and sing my best in honour of the Athenians and our noble selves.

  AN ATHENIAN. Yes, take your flute, i’ the gods’ name. What a delight to see him dance!

  CHORUS OF LACONIANS. Oh Mnemosyné! inspire these men, inspire my muse who knows our exploits and those of the Athenians. With what a godlike ardour did they swoop down at Artemisium on the ships of the Medes! What a glorious victory was that! For the soldiers of Leonidas, they were like fierce wild-boars whetting their tushes. The sweat ran down their faces, and drenched all their limbs, for verily the Persians were as many as the sands of the seashore. Oh! Artemis, huntress queen, whose arrows pierce the denizens of the woods, virgin goddess, be thou favourable to the Peace we here conclude; through thee may our hearts be long united! May this treaty draw close for ever the bonds o
f a happy friendship! No more wiles and stratagems! Aid us, oh! aid us, maiden huntress!

  LYSISTRATA. All is for the best; and now, Laconians, take your wives away home with you, and you, Athenians, yours. May husband live happily with wife, and wife with husband. Dance, dance, to celebrate our bliss, and let us be heedful to avoid like mistakes for the future.

  CHORUS OF ATHENIANS Appear, appear, dancers, and the Graces with you! Let us invoke, one and all, Artemis, and her heavenly brother, gracious Apollo, patron of the dance, and Dionysus, whose eye darts flame, as he steps forward surrounded by the Maenad maids, and Zeus, who wields the flashing lightning, and his august, thrice-blessed spouse, the Queen of Heaven! These let us invoke, and all the other gods, calling all the inhabitants of the skies to witness the noble Peace now concluded under the fond auspices of Aphrodité. Io Paean! Io Paean! dance, leap, as in honour of a victory won. Evoé! Evoé! And you, our Laconian guests, sing us a new and inspiring strain!

  CHORUS OF LACONIANS. Leave once more, oh! leave once more the noble height of Taygetus, oh! Muse of Lacedaemon, and join us in singing the praises of Apollo of Amyclae, and Athena of the Brazen House, and the gallant twin sons of Tyndarus, who practise arms on the banks of Eurotas river. Haste, haste hither with nimble-footed pace, let us sing Sparta, the city that delights in choruses divinely sweet and graceful dances, when our maidens bound lightly by the river side, like frolicsome fillies, beating the ground with rapid steps and shaking their long locks in the wind, as Bacchantes wave their wands in the wild revels of the Wine-god. At their head, oh! chaste and beauteous goddess, daughter of Latona, Artemis, do thou lead the song and dance. A fillet binding thy waving tresses, appear in thy loveliness; leap like a fawn; strike thy divine hands together to animate the dance, and aid us to renown the valiant goddess of battles, great Athené of the Brazen House!

  THE WOMEN CELEBRATING THE THESMOPHORIA

  Anonymous translation for the Athenian Society, London, 1912

  The Θεσμοφοριάζουσαι was first produced in 411 BC and like Lysistrata offers revealing insight into the subversive role of women in a male-dominated society, as well as providing an amusing satire of contemporary tragic poets. The play is also notable for Aristophanes’ free adaptation of key structural elements of Old Comedy and for the absence of the anti-populist and anti-war comments that permeate his earlier works.

  The play concerns the real-life tragedian Euripides, who is afraid that, “the women at the festival/Are going to kill me for insulting them!” The Women Celebrating the Thesmophoria presents the absurd premise that women are incensed by Euripides’ continual portrayal of women as mad, murderous, and sexually depraved, and that they are using the festival of the Thesmophoria, an annual fertility celebration dedicated to Demeter, as an opportunity to plan their revenge on the tragedian.

  Terrified of their retribution, Euripides seeks out the aid of his fellow tragedian, Agathon, in the hope of persuading his rival to spy for him and to be his advocate at the festival, requiring him to go disguised as a woman. Agathon is already dressed as a woman, in preparation for a play, but he believes that the women of Athens are jealous of him and he refuses to attend the festival for fear of being discovered. Euripides’ aged in-law Mnesilochus then offers to go in Agathon’s place and so Euripides shaves him, dresses him in women’s clothes borrowed from Agathon and finally sends him off to the Thesmophorion, the location of the women’s secret rites.

  The play is celebrated for its reversal of sexual stereotypes, where men dress as women and the women appear to be the equal of men, particularly in their imitation of the democratic assembly. The sexual role-reversals can be understood to have a broad, political significance. The warrior ethos of an older generation versus the effete intellectualism of a younger generation is a debate that recurs in various forms throughout Aristophanes’ works. Later on in The Frogs, for example, a debate is held between Aeschylus, who values Homer for the warrior ethos he inculcates in his audience, and Euripides who values the intellectual and philosophical quibbling of a legalistic society. The debate in The Frogs is won by Aeschylus and he is brought back from the dead to reform the polis with his instructive poetry. In The Women Celebrating the Thesmophoria, the female Chorus argues that they are better than their men because they have preserved their heritage, as represented by the weaving shuttle, the wool-basket and the parasol, whereas the men have lost their spears and shields, referring to Athens’ loss to Sparta in the war.

  Bust of Euripides, Roman copy after a Greek original, c. 330 BC

  CONTENTS

  INTRODUCTION

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  THE THESMOPHORIAZUSAE

  INTRODUCTION

  Like the ‘Lysistrata,’ the ‘Thesmophoriazusae, or Women’s Festival,’ and the next following play, the ‘Ecclesiazusae, or Women in Council’ are comedies in which the fair sex play a great part, and also resemble that extremely scabreux production in the plentiful crop of doubtful ‘double entendres’ and highly suggestive situations they contain.

  The play has more of a proper intrigue and formal dénouement than is general with our Author’s pieces, which, like modern extravaganzas and musical comedies, are often strung on a very slender thread of plot. The idea of the ‘Thesmophoriazusae’ is as follows.

  Euripides is summoned as a notorious woman-hater and detractor of the female sex to appear for trial and judgment before the women of Athens assembled to celebrate the Thesmophoria, a festival held in honour of the goddesses Demeter and Persephone, from which men were rigidly excluded. The poet is terror-stricken, and endeavours to persuade his confrère, the tragedian Agathon, to attend the meeting in the guise of a woman to plead his cause, Agathon’s notorious effeminacy of costume and way of life lending itself to the deception; but the latter refuses point-blank. He then prevails on his father-in-law, Mnesilochus, to do him this favour, and shaves, depilates, and dresses him up accordingly. But so far from throwing oil on the troubled waters, Mnesilochus indulges in a long harangue full of violent abuse of the whole sex, and relates some scandalous stories of the naughty ways of peccant wives. The assembly suspects at once there is a man amongst them, and on examination of the old fellow’s person, this is proved to be the case. He flies for sanctuary to the altar, snatching a child from the arms of one of the women as a hostage, vowing to kill it if they molest him further. On investigation, however, the infant turns out to be a wine-skin dressed in baby’s clothes.

  In despair Mnesilochus sends urgent messages to Euripides to come and rescue him from his perilous predicament. The latter then appears, and in successive characters selected from his different Tragedies — now Menelaus meeting Helen again in Egypt, now Echo sympathising with the chained Andromeda, presently Perseus about to release the heroine from her rock — pleads for his unhappy father-in-law. At length he succeeds in getting him away in the temporary absence of the guard, a Scythian archer, whom he entices from his post by the charms of a dancing-girl.

  As may be supposed, the appearance of Mnesilochus among the women dressed in women’s clothes, the examination of his person to discover his true sex and his final detection, afford fine opportunities for a display of the broadest Aristophanic humour. The latter part of the play also, where various pieces of Euripides are burlesqued, is extremely funny; and must have been still more so when represented before an audience familiar with every piece and almost every line parodied, and played by actors trained and got up to imitate every trick and mannerism of appearance and delivery of the tragic actors who originally took the parts.

  The ‘Thesmophoriazusae’ was produced in the year 412 B.C., six years before the death of Euripides, who is held up to ridicule in it, as he is in ‘The Wasps’ and several other of our Author’s comedies.

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  EURIPIDES.

  MNESILOCHUS, Father-in-law of Euripides.

  AGATHON.

  SERVANT OF AGATHON.

  CHORUS attending AGATHON.

>   HERALD.

  WOMEN.

  CLISTHENES.

  A PRYTANIS or Member of the Council.

  A SCYTHIAN or Police Officer.

  CHORUS OF THESMOPHORIAZUSAE — women keeping the Feast of Demeter.

  SCENE: In front of Agathon’s house; afterwards in the precincts of the Temple of Demeter.

  THE THESMOPHORIAZUSAE

  OR

  THE WOMEN CELEBRATING THE THESMOPHORIA

  MNESILOCHUS. Great Zeus! will the swallow never appear to end the winter of my discontent? Why the fellow has kept me on the run ever since early this morning; he wants to kill me, that’s certain. Before I lose my spleen entirely, Euripides, can you at least tell me whither you are leading me?

  EURIPIDES. What need for you to hear what you are going to see?

  MNESILOCHUS. How is that? Repeat it. No need for me to hear….

  EURIPIDES. What you are going to see.

  MNESILOCHUS. Nor consequently to see….

  EURIPIDES. What you have to hear.

  MNESILOCHUS. What is this wiseacre stuff you are telling me? I must neither see nor hear.

  EURIPIDES. Ah! but you have two things there that are essentially distinct.

  MNESILOCHUS. Seeing and hearing.

  EURIPIDES. Undoubtedly.

  MNESILOCHUS. In what way distinct?

  EURIPIDES. In this way. Formerly, when Ether separated the elements and bore the animals that were moving in her bosom, she wished to endow them with sight, and so made the eye round like the sun’s disc and bored ears in the form of a funnel.

  MNESILOCHUS. And because of this funnel I neither see nor hear. Ah! great gods! I am delighted to know it. What a fine thing it is to talk with wise men!

  EURIPIDES. I will teach you many another thing of the sort.

  MNESILOCHUS. That’s well to know; but first of all I should like to find out how to grow lame, so that I need not have to follow you all about.