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

by Aristophanes

  EURIPIDES. Come, hear and give heed!

  MNESILOCHUS. I’m here and waiting.

  EURIPIDES. Do you see that little door?

  MNESILOCHUS. Yes, certainly.

  EURIPIDES. Silence!

  MNESILOCHUS. Silence about what? About the door?

  EURIPIDES. Pay attention!

  MNESILOCHUS. Pay attention and be silent about the door? Very well.

  EURIPIDES. ’Tis there that Agathon, the celebrated tragic poet, dwells.

  MNESILOCHUS. Who is this Agathon?

  EURIPIDES. ’Tis a certain Agathon….

  MNESILOCHUS. Swarthy, robust of build?

  EURIPIDES. No, another. You have never seen him?

  MNESILOCHUS. He has a big beard?

  EURIPIDES. No, no, evidently you have never seen him.

  MNESILOCHUS. Never, so far as I know.

  EURIPIDES. And yet you have pedicated him. Well, it must have been without knowing who he was. Ah! let us step aside; here is one of his slaves bringing a brazier and some myrtle branches; no doubt he is going to offer a sacrifice and pray for a happy poetical inspiration for Agathon.

  SERVANT OF AGATHON. Silence! oh, people! keep your mouths sedately shut! The chorus of the Muses is moulding songs at my master’s hearth. Let the winds hold their breath in the silent Ether! Let the azure waves cease murmuring on the shore!…

  MNESILOCHUS. Brououou! brououou! (Imitates the buzzing of a fly.)

  EURIPIDES. Keep quiet! what are you saying there?

  SERVANT. … Take your rest, ye winged races, and you, ye savage inhabitants of the woods, cease from your erratic wandering …

  MNESILOCHUS. Broum, broum, brououou.

  SERVANT. … for Agathon, our master, the sweet-voiced poet, is going …

  MNESILOCHUS. … to be pedicated?

  SERVANT. Whose voice is that?

  MNESILOCHUS. ’Tis the silent Ether.

  SERVANT. … is going to construct the framework of a drama. He is rounding fresh poetical forms, he is polishing them in the lathe and is welding them; he is hammering out sentences and metaphors; he is working up his subject like soft wax. First he models it and then he casts it in bronze …

  MNESILOCHUS. … and sways his buttocks amorously.

  SERVANT. Who is the rustic who approaches this sacred enclosure?

  MNESILOCHUS. Take care of yourself and of your sweet-voiced poet! I have a strong instrument here both well rounded and well polished, which will pierce your enclosure and penetrate your bottom.

  SERVANT. Old man, you must have been a very insolent fellow in your youth!

  EURIPIDES (to the servant). Let him be, friend, and, quick, go and call

  Agathon to me.

  SERVANT. ’Tis not worth the trouble, for he will soon be here himself. He has started to compose, and in winter it is never possible to round off strophes without coming to the sun to excite the imagination. (He departs.)

  MNESILOCHUS. And what am I to do?

  EURIPIDES. Wait till he comes…. Oh, Zeus! what hast thou in store for me to-day?

  MNESILOCHUS. But, great gods, what is the matter then? What are you grumbling and groaning for? Tell me; you must not conceal anything from your father-in-law.

  EURIPIDES. Some great misfortune is brewing against me.

  MNESILOCHUS. What is it?

  EURIPIDES. This day will decide whether it is all over with Euripides or not.

  MNESILOCHUS. But how? Neither the tribunals nor the Senate are sitting, for it is the third of the five days consecrated to Demeter.

  EURIPIDES. That is precisely what makes me tremble; the women have plotted my ruin, and to-day they are to gather in the Temple of Demeter to execute their decision.

  MNESILOCHUS. Why are they against you?

  EURIPIDES. Because I mishandle them in my tragedies.

  MNESILOCHUS. By Posidon, you would seem to have thoroughly deserved your fate. But how are you going to get out of the mess?

  EURIPIDES. I am going to beg Agathon, the tragic poet, to go to the

  Thesmophoria.

  MNESILOCHUS. And what is he to do there?

  EURIPIDES. He would mingle with the women, and stand up for me, if needful.

  MNESILOCHUS. Would he be openly present or secretly?

  EURIPIDES. Secretly, dressed in woman’s clothes.

  MNESILOCHUS. That’s a clever notion, thoroughly worthy of you. The prize for trickery is ours.

  EURIPIDES. Silence!

  MNESILOCHUS. What’s the matter?

  EURIPIDES. Here comes Agathon.

  MNESILOCHUS. Where, where?

  EURIPIDES. That’s the man they are bringing out yonder on the machine.

  MNESILOCHUS. I am blind then! I see no man here, I only see Cyrené.

  EURIPIDES. Be still! He is getting ready to sing.

  MNESILOCHUS. What subtle trill, I wonder, is he going to warble to us?

  AGATHON. Damsels, with the sacred torch in hand, unite your dance to shouts of joy in honour of the nether goddesses; celebrate the freedom of your country.

  CHORUS. To what divinity is your homage addressed? I wish to mingle mine with it.

  AGATHON. Oh! Muse! glorify Phoebus with his golden bow, who erected the walls of the city of the Simois.

  CHORUS. To thee, oh Phoebus, I dedicate my most beauteous songs; to thee, the sacred victor in the poetical contests.

  AGATHON. And praise Artemis too, the maiden huntress, who wanders on the mountains and through the woods….

  CHORUS. I, in my turn, celebrate the everlasting happiness of the chaste

  Artemis, the mighty daughter of Latona!

  AGATHON. … and Latona and the tones of the Asiatic lyre, which wed so well with the dances of the Phrygian Graces.

  CHORUS. I do honour to the divine Latona and to the lyre, the mother of songs of male and noble strains. The eyes of the goddess sparkle while listening to our enthusiastic chants. Honour to the powerful Phoebus! Hail! thou blessed son of Latona!

  MNESILOCHUS. Oh! ye venerable Genetyllides, what tender and voluptuous songs! They surpass the most lascivious kisses in sweetness; I feel a thrill of delight pass up my rectum as I listen to them. Young man, whoever you are, answer my questions, which I am borrowing from Aeschylus’ ‘Lycurgeia.’ Whence comes this effeminate? What is his country? his dress? What contradictions his life shows! A lyre and a hair-net! A wrestling school oil flask and a girdle! What could be more contradictory? What relation has a mirror to a sword? And you yourself, who are you? Do you pretend to be a man? Where is the sign of your manhood, your penis, pray? Where is the cloak, the footgear that belong to that sex? Are you a woman? Then where are your breasts? Answer me. But you keep silent. Oh! just as you choose; your songs display your character quite sufficiently.

  AGATHON. Old man, old man, I hear the shafts of jealousy whistling by my ears, but they do not hit me. My dress is in harmony with my thoughts. A poet must adopt the nature of his characters. Thus, if he is placing women on the stage, he must contract all their habits in his own person.

  MNESILOCHUS. Then you ride the high horse when you are composing a

  Phaedra.

  AGATHON. If the heroes are men, everything in him will be manly. What we don’t possess by nature, we must acquire by imitation.

  MNESILOCHUS. When you are staging Satyrs, call me; I will do my best to help you from behind with standing tool.

  AGATHON. Besides, it is bad taste for a poet to be coarse and hairy. Look at the famous Ibycus, at Anacreon of Teos, and at Alcaeus, who handled music so well; they wore headbands and found pleasure in the lascivious dances of Ionia. And have you not heard what a dandy Phrynichus was and how careful in his dress? For this reason his pieces were also beautiful, for the works of a poet are copied from himself.

  MNESILOCHUS. Ah! so it is for this reason that Philocles, who is so hideous, writes hideous pieces; Xenocles, who is malicious, malicious ones, and Theognis, who is cold, such cold ones?

  AGATHON. Yes, necess
arily and unavoidably; and ’tis because I knew this that I have so well cared for my person.

  MNESILOCHUS. How, in the gods’ name?

  EURIPIDES. Come, leave off badgering him; I was just the same at his age, when I began to write.

  MNESILOCHUS. At! then, by Zeus! I don’t envy you your fine manners.

  EURIPIDES (to Agathon). But listen to the cause that brings me here.

  AGATHON. Say on.

  EURIPIDES. Agathon, wise is he who can compress many thoughts into few words. Struck by a most cruel misfortune, I come to you as a suppliant.

  AGATHON. What are you asking?

  EURIPIDES. The women purpose killing me to-day during the Thesmophoria, because I have dared to speak ill of them.

  AGATHON. And what can I do for you in the matter?

  EURIPIDES. Everything. Mingle secretly with the women by making yourself pass as one of themselves; then do you plead my cause with your own lips, and I am saved. You, and you alone, are capable of speaking of me worthily.

  AGATHON. But why not go and defend yourself?

  EURIPIDES. ’Tis impossible. First of all, I am known; further, I have white hair and a long beard; whereas you, you are good-looking, charming, and are close-shaven; you are fair, delicate, and have a woman’s voice.

  AGATHON. Euripides!

  EURIPIDES. Well?

  AGATHON. Have you not said in one of your pieces, “You love to see the light, and don’t you believe your father loves it too?”

  EURIPIDES. Yes.

  AGATHON. Then never you think I am going to expose myself in your stead; ’twould be madness. ’Tis for you to submit to the fate that overtakes you; one must not try to trick misfortune, but resign oneself to it with good grace.

  MNESILOCHUS. This is why you, you wretch, offer your posterior with a good grace to lovers, not in words, but in actual fact.

  EURIPIDES. But what prevents your going there?

  AGATHON. I should run more risk than you would.

  EURIPIDES. Why?

  AGATHON. Why? I should look as if I were wanting to trespass on secret nightly pleasures of the women and to ravish their Aphrodité.

  MNESILOCHUS. Of wanting to ravish indeed! you mean wanting to be ravished — in the rearward mode. Ah! great gods! a fine excuse truly!

  EURIPIDES. Well then, do you agree?

  AGATHON. Don’t count upon it.

  EURIPIDES. Oh! I am unfortunate indeed! I am undone!

  MNESILOCHUS. Euripides, my friend, my son-in-law, never despair.

  EURIPIDES. What can be done?

  MNESILOCHUS. Send him to the devil and do with me as you like.

  EURIPIDES. Very well then, since you devote yourself to my safety, take off your cloak first.

  MNESILOCHUS. There, it lies on the ground. But what do you want to do with me?

  EURIPIDES. To shave off this beard of yours, and to remove your hair below as well.

  MNESILOCHUS. Do what you think fit; I yield myself entirely to you.

  EURIPIDES. Agathon, you have always razors about you; lend me one.

  AGATHON. Take if yourself, there, out of that case.

  EURIPIDES. Thanks. Sit down and puff out the right cheek.

  MNESILOCHUS. Oh! oh! oh!

  EURIPIDES. What are you shouting for? I’ll cram a spit down your gullet, if you’re not quiet.

  MNESILOCHUS. Oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! (He springs up and starts running away.)

  EURIPIDES. Where are you running to now?

  MNESILOCHUS. To the temple of the Eumenides. No, by Demeter I won’t let myself be gashed like that.

  EURIPIDES. But you will get laughed at, with your face half-shaven like that.

  MNESILOCHUS. Little care I.

  EURIPIDES. In the gods’ names, don’t leave me in the lurch. Come here.

  MNESILOCHUS. Oh! by the gods! (Resumes his seat.)

  EURIPIDES. Keep still and hold up your head. Why do you want to fidget about like this?

  MNESILOCHUS. Mu, mu.

  EURIPIDES. Well! why, mu, mu? There! ’tis done and well done too!

  MNESILOCHUS Ah! great god! It makes me feel quite light.

  EURIPIDES. Don’t worry yourself; you look charming. Do you want to see yourself?

  MNESILOCHUS. Aye, that I do; hand the mirror here.

  EURIPIDES. Do you see yourself?

  MNESILOCHUS. But this is not I, it is Clisthenes!

  EURIPIDES. Stand up; I am now going to remove your hair. Bend down.

  MNESILOCHUS. Alas! alas! they are going to grill me like a pig.

  EURIPIDES. Come now, a torch or a lamp! Bend down and take care of the tender end of your tail!

  MNESILOCHUS. Aye, aye! but I’m afire! oh! oh! Water, water, neighbour, or my rump will be alight!

  EURIPIDES. Keep up your courage!

  MNESILOCHUS. Keep my courage, when I’m being burnt up?

  EURIPIDES. Come, cease your whining, the worst is over.

  MNESILOCHUS. Oh! it’s quite black, all burnt below there all about the hole!

  EURIPIDES. Don’t worry! that will be washed off with a sponge.

  MNESILOCHUS. Woe to him who dares to wash my rump!

  EURIPIDES. Agathon, you refuse to devote yourself to helping me; but at any rate lend me a tunic and a belt. You cannot say you have not got them.

  AGATHON. Take them and use them as you like; I consent.

  MNESILOCHUS. What must be taken?

  EURIPIDES. What must be taken? First put on this long saffron-coloured robe.

  MNESILOCHUS. By Aphrodité! what a sweet odour! how it smells of a man’s genitals! Hand it me quickly. And the belt?

  EURIPIDES. Here it is.

  MNESILOCHUS. Now some rings for my legs.

  EURIPIDES. You still want a hair-net and a head-dress.

  AGATHON. Here is my night-cap.

  EURIPIDES. Ah! that’s capital.

  MNESILOCHUS. Does it suit me?

  AGATHON. It could not be better.

  EURIPIDES. And a short mantle?

  AGATHON. There’s one on the couch; take it.

  EURIPIDES. He wants slippers.

  AGATHON. Here are mine.

  MNESILOCHUS. Will they fit me? You like a loose fit.

  AGATHON. Try them on. Now that you have all you need, let me be taken inside.

  EURIPIDES. You look for all the world like a woman. But when you talk, take good care to give your voice a woman’s tone.

  MNESILOCHUS. I’ll try my best.

  EURIPIDES. Come, get yourself to the temple.

  MNESILOCHUS. No, by Apollo, not unless you swear to me …

  EURIPIDES. What?

  MNESILOCHUS. … that, if anything untoward happen to me, you will leave nothing undone to save me.

  EURIPIDES Very well! I swear it by the Ether, the dwelling-place of the king of the gods.

  MNESILOCHUS. Why not rather swear it by the disciples of

  Hippocrates?

  EURIPIDES. Come, I swear it by all the gods, both great and small.

  MNESILOCHUS. Remember, ’tis the heart, and not the tongue, that has sworn; for the oaths of the tongue concern me but little.

  EURIPIDES. Hurry yourself! The signal for the meeting has just been displayed on the Temple of Demeter. Farewell. [Exit.

  MNESILOCHUS. Here, Thratta, follow me. Look, Thratta, at the cloud of smoke that arises from all these lighted torches. Ah! beautiful Thesmophorae! grant me your favours, protect me, both within the temple and on my way back! Come, Thratta, put down the basket and take out the cake, which I wish to offer to the two goddesses. Mighty divinity, oh, Demeter, and thou, Persephoné, grant that I may be able to offer you many sacrifices; above all things, grant that I may not be recognized. Would that my young daughter might marry a man as rich as he is foolish and silly, so that she may have nothing to do but amuse herself. But where can a place be found for hearing well? Be off, Thratta, be off; slaves have no right to be present at this gathering.

  HERALD. Silence! Silence! Pray to
the Thesmophorae, Demeter and Cora; pray to Plutus, Calligenia, Curotrophos, the Earth, Hermes and the Graces, that all may happen for the best at this gathering, both for the greatest advantage of Athens and for our own personal happiness! May the award be given her, who, by both deeds and words, has most deserved it from the Athenian people and from the women! Address these prayers to heaven and demand happiness for yourselves. Io Paean! Io Paean! Let us rejoice!

  CHORUS. May the gods deign to accept our vows and our prayers! Oh! almighty Zeus, and thou, god with the golden lyre, who reignest on sacred Delos, and thou, oh, invincible virgin, Pallas, with the eyes of azure and the spear of gold, who protectest our illustrious city, and thou, the daughter of the beautiful Latona, the queen of the forests, who art adored under many names, hasten hither at my call. Come, thou mighty Posidon, king of the Ocean, leave thy stormy whirlpools of Nereus; come goddesses of the seas, come, ye nymphs, who wander on the mountains. Let us unite our voices to the sounds of the golden lyre, and may wisdom preside at the gathering of the noble matrons of Athens.

  HERALD. Address your prayers to the gods and goddesses of Olympus, of Delphi, Delos and all other places; if there be a man who is plotting against the womenfolk or who, to injure them, is proposing peace to Euripides and the Medes, or who aspires to usurping the tyranny, plots the return of a tyrant, or unmasks a supposititious child; or if there be a slave who, a confidential party to a wife’s intrigues, reveals them secretly to her husband, or who, entrusted with a message, does not deliver the same faithfully; if there be a lover who fulfils naught of what he has promised a woman, whom he has abused on the strength of his lies, if there be an old woman who seduces the lover of a maiden by dint of her presents and treacherously receives him in her house; if there be a host or hostess who sells false measure, pray the gods that they will overwhelm them with their wrath, both them and their families, and that they may reserve all their favours for you.

  CHORUS. Let us ask the fulfilment of these wishes both for the city and for the people, and may the wisest of us cause her opinion to be accepted. But woe to those women who break their oaths, who speculate on the public misfortune, who seek to alter the laws and the decrees, who reveal our secrets to the foe and admit the Medes into our territory so that they may devastate it! I declare them both impious and criminal. Oh! almighty Zeus! see to it that the gods protect us, albeit we are but women!