                                     420 BC                                 
                                                                            
                                 THE ACHARNIANS                             
                                                                            
                                by Aristophanes                             
                                                                            
                              anonymous translator                          
                                                                            
                                                                            
                                                                            
                                                                            
                                                                            
                                                                            
                                                                            
                                                                            
                                                                            
                CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY                                      
-                                                                           
    DICAEOPOLIS                                                             
    HERALD                                                                  
    AMPHITHEUS                                                              
    AMBASSADORS                                                             
    PSEUDARTABAS                                                            
    THEORUS                                                                 
    DAUGHTER OF DICAEOPOLIS                                                 
    SLAVE OF EURIPIDES                                                      
    EURIPIDES                                                               
    LAMACHUS                                                                
    A MEGARIAN                                                              
    TWO YOUNG GIRLS, daughters of the Megarian                              
    AN INFORMER                                                             
    A BOEOTIAN                                                              
    NICARCHUS                                                               
    SLAVE OF LAMACHUS                                                       
    A HUSBANDMAN                                                            
    A WEDDING GUEST                                                         
    CHORUS OF ACHARNIAN CHARCOAL BURNERS                                    
                                                                            
                            THE ACHARNIANS                                  
                                                                            
    (SCENE:-The Orchestra represents the Pnyx at Athens; in the back-       
    ground are the usual houses, this time three in number, belonging       
    to Dicaeopolis, Euripides, and Lamachus respectively.)                  
-                                                                           
  DICAEOPOLIS (alone)                                                       
    What cares have not gnawed at my heart and how few have been the        
pleasures in my life! Four, to be exact, while my troubles have been        
as countless as the grains of sand on the shore! Let me see! of what        
value to me have been these few pleasures? Ah! I remember that I was        
delighted in soul when Cleon had to cough up those five talents; I was      
in ecstasy and I love the Knights for this deed; "it is an honour to        
Greece." But the day when I was impatiently awaiting a piece by             
Aeschylus, what tragic despair it caused me when the herald called,         
"Theognis, introduce your Chorus!" Just imagine how this blow struck        
straight at my heart! On the other hand, what joy Dexitheus caused          
me at the musical competition, when right after Moschus he played a         
Boeotian melody on the lyre! But this year by contrast! Oh! what            
deadly torture to hear Chaeris perform the prelude in the Orthian           
mode!-Never, however, since I began to bathe, has the dust hurt my          
eyes as it does to-day. Still it is the day of assembly; all should be      
here at daybreak, and yet the Pnyx is still deserted. They are              
gossiping in the market-place, slipping hither and thither to avoid         
the vermilioned rope. The Prytanes even do not come; they will be           
late, but when they come they will push and fight each other for a          
seat in the front row. They will never trouble themselves with the          
question of peace. Oh! Athens! Athens! As for myself, I do not fail to      
come here before all the rest, and now, finding myself alone, I groan,      
yawn, stretch, fart, and know not what to do; I make sketches in the        
dust, pull out my loose hairs, muse, think of my fields, long for           
peace, curse town life and regret my dear country home, which never         
told me to "buy fuel, vinegar or oil"; there the word "buy," which          
cuts me in two, was unknown; I harvested everything at will. Therefore      
I have come to the assembly fully prepared to bawl, interrupt and           
abuse the speakers, if they talk of anything but peace. (The Orchestra      
begins to fill with people.) But here come the Prytanes, and high time      
too, for it is midday! There, just as I said, they are pushing and          
fighting for the front seats.                                               
  HERALD (officiously)                                                      
    Step forward, step forward; get within the consecrated area.            
  AMPHITHEUS (rising)                                                       
    Has anyone spoken yet?                                                  
  HERALD                                                                    
    Who asks to speak?                                                      
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    I do.                                                                   
  HERALD                                                                    
    Your name?                                                              
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    Amphitheus.                                                             
  HERALD                                                                    
    Are you not a man?                                                      
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    No! I am an immortal! Amphitheus was the son of Ceres and               
Triptolemus; of him was born Celeus, Celeus wedded Phaenerete, my           
grandmother, whose son was Lycinus, and, being born of him I am an          
immortal; it is to me alone that the gods have entrusted the duty of        
treating with the Lacedaemonians. But, citizens, though I am immortal,      
I am dying of hunger; the Prytanes give me nothing.                         
  HERALD (calling)                                                          
    Officers!                                                               
  AMPHITHEUS (as the Scythian policemen seize him)                          
    Oh, Triptolemus and Celeus, do ye thus forsake your own blood?          
  DICAEOPOLIS (rising)                                                      
    Prytanes, in expelling this citizen, you are offering an outrage        
to the Assembly. He only desired to secure peace for us and to sheathe      
the sword.                                                                  
                                  (The Scythians release Amphitheus.)       
  HERALD                                                                    
    Sit down! Silence!                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, by Apollo, I will not, unless you are going to discuss the          
question of peace.                                                          
  HERALD (ignoring this; loudly)                                            
    The ambassadors, who are returned from the Court of the King!           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Of what King? I am sick of all those fine birds, the peacock            
ambassadors and their swagger.                                              
  HERALD                                                                    
    Silence!                                                                
  DICAEOPOLIS (as he perceives the entering ambassadors dressed in the      
                         Persian mode)                                      
    Oh! oh! By Ecbatana, what a costume!                                    
  AMBASSADOR (pompously)                                                    
    During the archonship of Euthymenes, you sent us to the Great King      
on a salary of two drachmae per diem.                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    Ah! those poor drachmae!                                                
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    We suffered horribly on the plains of the Cayster, sleeping             
under tent, stretched deliciously on fine chariots, half dead with          
weariness.                                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    And I was very much at ease, lying on the straw along the               
battlements!                                                                
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    Everywhere we were well received and forced to drink delicious          
wine out of golden or crystal flagons.....                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    Oh, city of Cranaus, thy ambassadors are laughing at thee!              
    AMBASSADOR                                                              
    For great feeders and heavy drinkers are alone esteemed as men          
by the barbarians.                                                          
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    Just as here in Athens, we only esteem the wenchers and pederasts.      
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    At the end of the fourth year we reached the King's Court, but          
he had left with his whole army to take a crap, and for the space of        
eight months he was thus sitting on the can in the midst of the golden      
mountains.                                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    And how long did it take him to close his arse? A month?                
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    After this he returned to his palace; then he entertained us and        
had us served with oxen roasted whole in an oven.                           
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    Who ever saw an ox roasted in an oven? What a lie!                      
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    And one day, by Zeus, he also had us served with a bird three           
times as large as Cleonymus, and called the Hoax.                           
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    And do we give you two drachmae, that you should hoax us thus?          
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    We are bringing to you Pseudartabas, the King's Eye.                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I would a crow might pluck out yours with his beak, you cursed          
ambassador!                                                                 
  HERALD (loudly)                                                           
    The King's Eye!                                                         
    (Enter PSEUDARTABAS, in Persian costume; his mask is one great          
         eye; he is accompanied by two eunuchs.)                            
  DICAEOPOLIS (as he sees kim)                                              
    Good God! Friend, with your great eye, round like the hole through      
which the oarsman passes his sweep, you have the air of a galley            
doubling a cape to gain port.                                               
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    Come, Pseudartabas, give forth the message for the Athenians            
with which you were charged by the Great King.                              
  PSEUDARTABAS                                                              
    I artamane Xarxas apiaona satra.                                        
  AMBASSADOR (to DICAEOPOLIS)                                               
    Do you understand what he says?                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    God, no!                                                                
  AMBASSADOR (to the PRYTANES)                                              
    He says that the Great King will send you gold. (to                     
PSEUDARTABAS) Come, utter the word 'gold' louder and more distinctly.       
  PSEUDARTABAS                                                              
    Thou shalt not have gold, thou gaping-arsed Ionian.                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! God help us, but that's clear enough!                               
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    What does he say?                                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    That the Ionians are gaping-arsed, if they expect to receive            
gold from the barbarians.                                                   
  AMBASSADOR                                                                
    Not so, he speaks of bushels of gold.                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What bushels? You're nothing but a wind-bag; get out of the way; I      
will find out the truth by myself. (to PSEUDARTABAS) Come now,              
answer me clearly, if you do not wish me to dye your skin red. Will         
the Great King send us gold? (PSEUDARTABAS makes a negative sign.)          
Then our ambassadors are seeking to deceive us? (PSEUDARTABAS signs         
affirmatively.) These fellows make signs like any Greek; I am sure          
that they are nothing but Athenians. Oh! ho! I recognize one of             
these eunuchs; it is Clisthenes, the son of Sibyrtius. Behold the           
effrontery of this shaven and provocative arse! How, you big baboon,        
with such a beard do you seek to play the eunuch to us? And this other      
one? Is it not Straton?                                                     
  HERALD                                                                    
    Silence! Sit down! The Senate invites the King's Eye to the             
Prytaneum.                                                                  
                           (The AMBASSADORS and PSEUDARTABAS depart.)       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Is this not sufficient to drive a man to hang himself? Here I           
stand chilled to the bone, whilst the doors of the Prytaneum fly            
wide open to lodge such rascals. But I will do something great and          
bold. Where is Amphitheus? Come and speak with me.                          
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    Here I am.                                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Take these eight drachmae and go and conclude a truce with the          
Lace daemonians for me, my wife and my children; I leave you free,          
my dear Prytanes, to send out embassies and to stand gaping in the          
air.                                                                        
                                             (AMPHITHEUS rushes out.)       
  HERALD                                                                    
    Bring in Theorus, who has returned from the Court of Sitalces.          
  THEORUS (rising; he wears a Thracian costume.)                            
    I am here.                                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    Another humbug!                                                         
  THEORUS                                                                   
    We should not have remained long in Thrace.....                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    ....if you had not been well paid.                                      
  THEORUS                                                                   
    ....if the country had not been covered with snow; the rivers were      
    ice-bound....                                                           
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    That was when Theognis produced his tragedy.                            
  THEORUS                                                                   
    ....during the whole of that time I was holding my own with             
Sitalces cup in hand; and, in truth, he adored you to such a degree         
that he wrote on the walls, "How beautiful are the Athenians!" His          
son, to whom we gave the freedom of the city, burned with desire to         
come here and eat sausages at the feast of the Apaturia; he prayed his      
father to come to the aid of his new country and Sitalces swore on his      
goblet that he would succour us with such a host that the Athenians         
would exclaim, "What a cloud of grasshoppers!                               
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    Damned if I believe a word of what you tell us! Excepting the           
grasshoppers, there is not a grain of truth in it all!                      
  THEORUS                                                                   
    And he has sent you the most warlike soldiers of all Thrace.            
  DICAEOPOLIS (aside)                                                       
    Now we shall begin to see clearly.                                      
  HERALD                                                                    
    Come hither, Thracians, whom Theorus brought.                           
    (A few Thracians are ushered in; they have a most unwarlike             
        appearance; the most striking feature of their costume is the       
        circumcised phallus.)                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What plague have we here?                                               
  THEORUS                                                                   
    The host of the Odomanti.                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Of the Odomanti? Tell me what it means. Who sliced their tools          
like that?                                                                  
  THEORUS                                                                   
    If they are given a wage of two drachmae, they will put all             
Boeotia to fire and sword.                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Two drachmae to those circumcised hounds! Groan aloud, ye people        
of rowers, bulwark of Athens! (The Odomanti steal his sack) Ah!             
great gods! I am undone; these Odomanti are robbing me of my garlic!        
Give me back my garlic.                                                     
  THEORUS                                                                   
    Oh! wretched man! do not go near them; they have eaten garlic.          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Prytanes, will you let me be treated in this manner, in my own          
country and by barbarians? But I oppose the discussion of paying a          
wage to the Thracians; I announce an omen; I have just felt a drop          
of rain.                                                                    
  HERALD                                                                    
    Let the Thracians withdraw and return the day after tomorrow;           
the Prytanes declare the sitting at an end.                                 
                                      (All leave except DICAEOPOLIS.)       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ye gods, what garlic I have lost! But here comes Amphitheus             
returned from Lacedaemon. Welcome, Amphitheus.                              
                        (AMPHITHEUS enters, very much out of breath.)       
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    No, there is no welcome for me and I fly as fast as I can, for I        
am pursued by the Acharnians.                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Why, what has happened?                                                 
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    I was hurrying to bring your treaty of truce, but some old dotards      
from Acharnae got scent of the thing; they are veterans of Marathon,        
tough as oak or maple, of which they are made for sure-rough and            
ruthless. They all started shouting: "Wretch! you are the bearer of         
a treaty, and the enemy has only just cut our vines!" Meanwhile they        
were gathering stones in their cloaks, so I fled and they ran after me      
shouting.                                                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Let 'em shout as much as they please! But have you brought me           
treaty?                                                                     
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    Most certainly, here are three samples to select from, this one is      
five years old; taste it.                                                   
                                     (He hands DICAEOPOLIS a bottle.)       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Faugh!                                                                  
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    What's the matter?                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I don't like it; it smells of pitch and of the ships they are           
fitting out.                                                                
  AMPHITHEUS (handing him another bottle)                                   
    Here is another, ten years old; taste it.                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    It smells strongly of the delegates, who go around the towns to         
chide the allies for their slowness.                                        
  AMPHITHEUS (handing him a third bottle)                                   
    This last is a truce of thirty years, both on sea and land.             
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh! by Bacchus! what a bouquet! It has the aroma of nectar and          
ambrosia; this does not say to us, "Provision yourselves for three          
days." But it lisps the gentle numbers, "Go whither you will." I            
accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the               
Acharnians to limbo. Freed from the war and its ills, I shall               
celebrate the rural Dionysia.                                               
  AMPHITHEUS                                                                
    And I shall run away, for I'm mortally afraid of the Acharnians.        
    (AMPHITHEUS runs off. DICAEOPOLIS goes into his house, carrying         
        his truce. The CHORUS of ACHARNIAN CHARCOAL BURNERS enters, in      
        great haste and excitement.)                                        
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    This way all! Let us follow our man; we will demand him of              
everyone we meet; the public weal makes his seizure imperative. Ho,         
there! tell me which way the bearer of the truce has gone.                  
  CHORUS (singing)                                                          
    He has escaped us, he has disappeared. Damn old age! When I was         
young, in the days when I followed Phayllus, running with a sack of         
coals on my back, this wretch would not have eluded my pursuit, let         
him be as swift as he will.                                                 
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    But now my limbs are stiff; old Lacratides feels his legs are           
weighty and the traitor escapes me. No, no, let us follow him; old          
Acharnians like our selves shall not be set at naught by a                  
scoundrel....                                                               
  CHORUS (singing)                                                          
    ....who has dared, by Zeus, to conclude a truce when I wanted           
the war continued with double fury in order to avenge my ruined lands.      
No mercy for our foes until I have pierced their hearts like sharp          
reed, so that they dare never again ravage my vineyards.                    
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Come, let us seek the rascal; let us look everywhere, carrying our      
stones in our hands; let us hunt him from place to place until we trap      
him; could never, never tire of the delight of stoning him.                 
  DICAEOPOLIS (from within)                                                 
    Peace! profane men!                                                     
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Silence all! Friends, do you hear the sacred formula? Here is           
he, whom we seek! This way, all! Get out of his way, surely he comes        
to offer an oblation.                                                       
                                  (The CHORUS withdraws to one side.)       
  DICAEOPOLIS (comes out with a pot in his hand; he is followed by          
        his wife, his daughter, who carries a basket, and two slaves,       
        who carry the phallus.)                                             
    Peace, profane men! Let the basket-bearer come forward, and thou        
Xanthias, hold the phallus well upright. Daughter, set down the basket      
and let us begin the sacrifice.                                             
  DAUGHTER OF DICAEOPOLIS (putting down the basket and taking               
                 out the sacred cake)                                       
    Mother, hand me the ladle, that I may spread the sauce on the           
cake.                                                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    It is well! Oh, mighty Bacchus, it is with joy that, freed from         
military duty, I and all mine perform this solemn rite and offer            
thee this sacrifice; grant that I may keep the rural Dionysia               
without hindrance and that this truce of thirty years may be                
propitious for me. Come, my child, carry the basket gracefully and          
with a grave, demure face. Happy he who shall be your possessor and         
embrace you so firmly at dawn, that you fart like a weasel. Go              
forward, and have a care they don't snatch your jewels in the crowd.        
Xanthias, walk behind the basket-bearer and hold the phallus well           
erect; I will follow, singing the Phallic hymn; thou, wife, look on         
from the top of the terrace. Forward!                                       
                                                           (He sings)       
    Oh, Phales, companion of the orgies of Bacchus, night reveller,         
god of adultery and of pederasty, these past six years I have not been      
able to invoke thee. With what joy I return to my farmstead, thanks to      
the truce I have concluded, freed from cares, from fighting and from        
Lamachuses! How much sweeter, oh Phales, Phales, is it to surprise          
Thratta, the pretty woodmaid, Strymodorus' slave, stealing wood from        
Mount Phelleus, to catch her under the arms, to throw her, on the           
ground and lay her, Oh, Phales, Phales! If thou wilt drink and              
bemuse thyself with me, we shall to-morrow consume some good dish in        
honour of the peace, and I will hang up my buckler over the smoking         
hearth.                                                                     
       (The procession reaches the place where the CHORUS is hiding.)       
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    That's the man himself. Stone him, stone him, stone him, strike         
the wretch. All, all of you, pelt him, pelt him!                            
  DICAEOPOLIS (using his pot for a shield)                                  
    What is this? By Heracles, you will smash my pot.                       
                           (The daughter and the two slaves retreat.)       
  CHORUS (singing excitedly)                                                
    It is you that we are stoning, you miserable scoundrel.                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    And for what sin, Acharnian elders, tell me that!                       
  CHORUS (singing, with greater excitement)                                 
    You ask that, you impudent rascal, traitor to your country; you         
alone amongst us all have concluded a truce, and you dare to look us        
in the face!                                                                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But you do not know why I have treated for peace. Listen!               
  CHORUS (singing fiercely)                                                 
    Listen to you? No, no, you are about to die, we will annihilate         
you with our stones.                                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But first of all, listen. Stop, my friends.                             
  CHORUS (singing; with intense hatred)                                     
    I will hear nothing; do not address me; I hate you more than I          
do Cleon, whom one day I shall flay to make sandals for the Knights.        
Listen to your long speeches, after you have treated with the               
Laconians? No, I will punish you.                                           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Friends, leave the Laconians out of debate and consider only            
whether I have not done well to conclude my truce.                          
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Done well! when you have treated with a people who know neither         
gods, nor truth, nor faith.                                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    We attribute too much to the Laconians; as for myself, I know that      
they are not the cause of all our troubles.                                 
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Oh, indeed, rascal! You dare to use such language to me and then        
expect me to spare you!                                                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, no, they are not the cause of all our troubles, and I who           
address you claim to be able to prove that they have much to                
complain of in us.                                                          
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    This passes endurance; my heart bounds with fury. Thus you dare to      
defend our enemies.                                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Were my head on the block I would uphold what I say and rely on         
the approval of the people.                                                 
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Comrades, let us hurl our stones and dye this fellow purple.            
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What black fire-brand has inflamed your heart! You will not hear        
me? You really will not, Acharnians?                                        
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    No, a thousand times, no.                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    This is a hateful injustice.                                            
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    May I die if I listen.                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Nay, nay! have mercy, have mercy, Acharnians.                           
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    You shall die.                                                          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Well, blood for blood! I will kill your dearest friend. I have          
here the hostages of Acharnae; I shall disembowel them.                     
                                            (He goes into the house.)       
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Acharnians, what means this threat? Has he got one of our children      
in his house? What gives him such audacity?                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS (coming out again)                                            
    Stone me, if it please you; I shall avenge myself on this. (He          
shows them a basket.) Let us see whether you have any love for your         
coals.                                                                      
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Great Gods! this basket is our fellow-citizen. Stop, stop, in           
heaven's name!                                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I shall dismember it despite your cries; I will listen to nothing.      
  CHORUS (singing; tragically)                                              
    How, will you kill this coal-basket, my beloved comrade?                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Just now you would not listen to me.                                    
  CHORUS (singing; plaintively)                                             
    Well, speak now, if you will; tell us, tell us you have a weakness      
for the Lacedaemonians. I consent to anything; never will I forsake         
this dear little basket.                                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    First, throw down your stones.                                          
  CHORUS (singing; meekly)                                                  
    There I it's done. And you put away your sword.                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Let me see that no stones remain concealed in your cloaks.              
  CHORUS (singing; petulantly)                                              
    They are all on the ground; see how we shake our garments. Come,        
no haggling, lay down your sword; we threw away everything while            
crossing from one side of the Orchestra to the other.                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What cries of anguish you would have uttered had these coals of         
Parnes been dismembered, and yet it came very near it; had they             
perished, their death would have been due to the folly of their             
fellow-citizens. The poor basket was so frightened, look, it has            
shed a thick black dust over me, the same as a cuttle-fish does.            
What an irritable temper! You shout and throw stones, you will not          
hear my arguments-not even when I propose to speak in favour of the         
Lacedaemonians with my head on the block; and yet I cling to life.          
                                            (He goes into the house.)       
  CHORUS (singing; belligerently again)                                     
    Well then, bring out a block before your door, scoundrel, and           
let us hear the good grounds you can give us; I am curious to know          
them. Now mind, as you proposed yourself, place your head on the block      
and speak.                                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS (coming out of his house, carrying a block)                   
    Here is the block; and, though I am but a very sorry speaker, I         
wish nevertheless to talk freely of the Lacedaemonians and without the      
protection of my buckler. Yet I have many reasons for fear. I know our      
rustics; they are delighted if some braggart comes, and rightly or          
wrongly, loads both them and their city with praise and flattery; they      
do not see that such toad-eaters are traitors, who sell them for gain.      
As for the old men, I know their weakness; they only seek to overwhelm      
the accused with their votes. Nor have I forgotten how Cleon treated        
me because of my comedy last year; he dragged me before the Senate and      
there he uttered endless slanders against me; it was a tempest of           
abuse, a deluge of lies. Through what a slough of mud he dragged me! I      
almost perished. Permit me, therefore, before I speak, to dress in the      
manner most likely to draw pity.                                            
  CHORUS (singing; querulously)                                             
    What evasions, subterfuges and delays! Wait! here is the sombre         
helmet of Pluto with its thick bristling plume; Hieronymus lends it to      
you; then open Sisyphus' bag of wiles; but hurry, hurry, for                
discussion does not admit of delay.                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    The time has come for me to manifest my courage, so I will go           
and seek Euripides. (Knocking on EURIPIDES' door) Ho! slave, slave!         
  SLAVE (opening the door and poking his head out)                          
    Who's there?                                                            
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Is Euripides at home?                                                   
  SLAVE                                                                     
    He is and he isn't; understand that, if you can.                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What's that? He is and he isn't!                                        
  SLAVE                                                                     
    Certainly, old man; busy gathering subtle fancies here and              
there, his mind is not in the house, but he himself is; perched aloft,      
he is composing a tragedy.                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh, Euripides, you are indeed happy to have a slave so quick at         
redartee! Now, fellow, call your master.                                    
  SLAVE                                                                     
    Impossible! (He slams the door.)                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Too bad. But I will not give up. Come, let us knock at the door         
again. Euripides, my little Euripides, my darling Euripides, listen;        
never had man greater right to your pity. It is Dicaeopolis of the          
Chollidan Deme who calls you. Do you hear?                                  
  EURIPIDES (from within)                                                   
    I have no time to waste.                                                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Very well, have yourself wheeled out here.                              
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Impossible.                                                             
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Nevertheless....                                                        
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Well, let them roll me out; as to coming down, I have not the           
time.                                                                       
    (The eccyclema turns and presents the interior of the house.            
        EURIPIDES is lying on a bed, his slave beside him. On the back      
        wall are hung up tragic costumes of every sort and a multitude      
        of accessories is piled up on the floor.)                           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Euripides....                                                           
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    What words strike my ear?                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    You perch aloft to compose tragedies, when you might just as            
well do them on the ground. No wonder you introduce cripples on the         
stage. And why do you dress in these miserable tragic rags? No              
wonder your heroes are beggars. But, Euripides, on my knees I               
beseech you, give me the tatters of some old piece; for I have to           
treat the Chorus to a long speech, and if I do it badly it is all over      
with me.                                                                    
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    What rags do you prefer? Those in which I rigged out Oeneus on the      
stage, that unhappy, miserable old man?                                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, I want those of some hero still more unfortunate.                   
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Of Phoenix, the blind man?                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, not of Phoenix, you have another hero more unfortunate than         
him.                                                                        
  EURIPIDES (to himself)                                                    
    Now, what tatters does he want? (to DICAEOPOLIS) Do you mean those      
of the beggar Philoctetes?                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, of another far more beggarly.                                       
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Is it the filthy dress of the lame fellow, Bellerophon?                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, not Bellerophon; the one I mean was not only lame and a             
beggar, but boastful and a fine speaker.                                    
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Ah! I know, it is Telephus, the Mysian.                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Yes, Telephus. Give me his rags, I beg of you.                          
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Slave! give him Telephus' tatters; they are on top of the rags          
of Thyestes and mixed with those of Ino. There they are; take them.         
  DICAEOPOLIS (holding up the costume for the audience to see)              
    Oh! Zeus, whose eye pierces everywhere and embraces all, permit me      
to assume the most wretcbed dress on earth. Euripides, cap your             
kindness by giving me the little Mysian hat, that goes so well with         
these tatters. I must to-day have the look of a beggar; "be what I am,      
but not appear to be"; the audience will know well who I am, but the        
Chorus will be fools enough not to, and I shall dupe them with my           
subtle phrases.                                                             
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    I will give you the hat; I love the clever tricks of an                 
ingenious brain like yours.                                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Rest happy, and may it befall Telephus as I wish. Ah, I already         
feel myself filled with quibbles. But I must have a beggar's staff.         
  EURIPIDES (handing him a staff)                                           
    Here you are, and now get away from this porch.                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh, my soul! You see how you are driven from this house, when I         
still need so many accessories. But let us be pressing, obstinate,          
importunate. Euripides, give me a little basket with a lamp lighted         
inside.                                                                     
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Whatever do you want such a thing as that for?                          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I do not need it, but I want it all the same.                           
  EURIPIDES (handing him a basket)                                          
    You importune me; get out of here!                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Alas! may the gods grant you a destiny as brilliant as your             
mother's."                                                                  
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Leave me in peace.                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh, just a little broken cup.                                           
  EURIPIDES (handing him a cup)                                             
    Take it and go and hang yourself. (to himself) What a tiresome          
fellow!                                                                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! you do not know all the pain you cause me. Dear, good               
Euripides, just a little pot with a sponge for a stopper.                   
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Miserable man! You are stealing a whole tragedy. Here, take it and      
be off.                                                                     
                                        (He hands DICAEOPOLIS a pot.)       
    DICAEOPOLIS                                                             
    I am going, but, great gods! I need one thing more; unless I            
have it, am a dead man. Hearken, my little Euripides, only give me          
this and I go, never to return. For pity's sake, do give me a few           
small herbs for my basket.                                                  
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    You wish to ruin me then. Here, take what you want; but it is           
all over with my plays!                                                     
                                           (He hands him some herbs.)       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I won't ask another thing; I'm going. I am too importunate and          
forget that I rouse against me the hate of kings. (He starts to leave,      
then returns quickly) Ah! wretch that I am! I am lost! I have               
forgotten one thing, without which all the rest is as nothing.              
Euripides, my excellent Euripides, my dear little Euripides, may I die      
if I ask you again for the smallest present; only one, the last,            
absolutely the last; give me some of the chervil your mother left           
you in her will.                                                            
  EURIPIDES                                                                 
    Insolent hound! Slave, lock the door! (The eccyclema turns back         
    again.)                                                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh, my soul! we must go away without the chervil. Art thou              
sensible of the dangerous battle we are about to engage upon in             
defending the Lacedaemonians? Courage, my soul, we must plunge into         
the midst of it. Dost thou hesitate and art thou fully steeped in           
Euripides? That's right! do not falter, my poor heart, and let us risk      
our head to say what we hold for truth. Courage and boldly to the           
front. I am astonished at my bravery.                                       
                                           (He approaches the block.)       
  CHORUS (singing; excitedly)                                               
    What do you purport doing? what are you going to say? What an           
impudent fellow! what a brazen heart! to dare to stake his head and         
uphold an opinion contrary to that of us all! And he does not               
tremble to face this peril Come, it is you who desired it, speak!           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Spectators, be not angered if, although I am a beggar, I dare in        
comedy to speak before the people of Athens of the public weal; even        
Comedy can sometimes discern what is right. I shall not please, but         
I shall say what is true. Besides, Cleon shall not be able to accuse        
me of attacking Athens before strangers; we are by ourselves at the         
festival of the Lenaea; the time when our allies send us their tribute      
and their soldiers is not yet here. There is only the pure wheat            
without the chaff; as to the resident aliens settled among us, they         
and the citizens are one, like the straw and the ear.                       
    I detest the Lacedaemonians with all my heart, and may Posidon,         
the god of Taenarus, cause an earthquake and overturn their dwellings!      
My vines too have been cut. But come (there are only friends who            
hear me), why accuse the Laconians of all our woes? Some men (I do not      
say the city, note particularly that I do not say the city), some           
wretches, lost in vices, bereft of honour, who were not even                
citizens of good stamp, but strangers, have accused the Megarians of        
introducing their produce fraudulently, and not a cucumber, a leveret,      
a suckling pig, a clove of garlic, a lump of salt was seen without its      
being said, "Halloa! these come from Megara," and their being               
instantly confiscated. Thus far the evil was not serious and we were        
the only sufferers. But now some young drunkards go to Megara and           
carry off the harlot Simaetha; the Megarians, hurt to the quick, run        
off in turn with two harlots of the house of Aspasia; and so for three      
whores Greece is set ablaze. Then Pericles, aflame with ire on his          
Olympian height, let loose the lightning, caused the thunder to             
roll, upset Greece and passed an edict, which ran like the song, "That      
the Megarians be banished both from our land and from our markets           
and from the sea and from the continent." Meanwhile the Megarians, who      
were beginning to die of hunger, begged the Lacedaemonians to bring         
about the abolition of the decree, of which those harlots were the          
cause; several times we refused their demand; and from that time there      
was horrible clatter of arms everywhere. You will say that Sparta           
was wrong, but what should she have done? Answer that. Suppose that         
a Lacedaemonian had seized a little Seriphian dog on any pretext and        
had sold it, would you have endured it quietly? Far from it, you would      
at once have sent three hundred vessels to sea, and what an uproar          
there would have been through all the city I there it's a band of           
noisy soldiery, here a brawl about the election of a Trierarch;             
elsewhere pay is being distributed, the Pallas figure-heads are             
being regilded, crowds are surging under the market porticos,               
encumbered with wheat that is being measured, wine-skins,                   
oar-leathers, garlic, olives, onions in nets; everywhere are chaplets,      
sprats, flute-girls, black eyes; in the arsenal bolts are being             
noisily driven home, sweeps are being made and fitted with leathers;        
we hear nothing but the sound of whistles, of flutes and fifes to           
encourage the workers. That is what you assuredly would have done, and      
would not Telephus have done the same? So I come to my general              
conclusion; we have no common sense.                                        
  LEADER OF FIRST SEMI-CHORUS                                               
    Oh! wretch! oh! infamous man! You are naught but a beggar and           
yet you dare to talk to us like this! you insult their worships the         
informers!                                                                  
  LEADER OF SECOND SEMI-CHORUS                                              
    By Posidon! he speaks the truth; he has not lied in a single            
detail.                                                                     
  LEADER OF FIRST SEMI-CHORUS                                               
    But though it be true, need he say it? But you'll have no great         
cause to be proud of your insolence!                                        
  LEADER OF SECOND SEMI-CHORUS                                              
    Where are you running to? Don't you move; if you strike this            
man, I shall be at you.                                                     
  FIRST SEMI-CHORUS (bursting into song)                                    
    Oh! Lamachus, whose glance flashes lightning, whose plume               
petrifies thy foes, help! Oh! Lamachus, my friend, the hero of my           
tribe and all of you, both officers and soldiers, defenders of our          
walls, come to my aid; else is it all over with me!                         
           (LAMACHUS comes out of his house armed from head to foot.)       
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Whence comes this cry of battle? where must I bring my aid?             
where must I sow dread? who wants me to uncase my dreadful Gorgon's         
head?                                                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh, Lamachus, great hero! Your plumes and your cohorts terrify me.      
  CHORUS-LEADER                                                             
    This man, Lamachus, incessantly abuses Athens.                          
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    You are but a mendicant and you dare to use language of this sort?      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh, brave Lamachus, forgive a beggar who speaks at hazard.              
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    But what have you said? Let us hear.                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I know nothing about it; the sight of weapons makes me dizzy.           
Oh! I adjure you, take that fearful Gorgon somewhat farther away.           
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    There.                                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Now place it face downwards on the ground.                              
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    It is done.                                                             
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Give me a plume out of your helmet.                                     
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Here is a feather.                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    And hold my head while I vomit; the plumes have turned my stomach.      
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Hah! what are you proposing to do? do you want to make yourself         
vomit with this feather?                                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Is it a feather? what bird's? a braggart's?                             
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Hah! I will rip you open.                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, no, Lamachus! Violence is out of place here! But as you are so      
strong, why did you not circumcise me? You have all the tools you need      
for the operation there.                                                    
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    A beggar dares thus address a general!                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    How? Am I a beggar?                                                     
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    What are you then?                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Who am I? A good citizen, not ambitious; a soldier, who has fought      
well since the outbreak of the war, whereas you are but a vile              
mercenary.                                                                  
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    They elected me....                                                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Yes, three cuckoos did! If I have concluded peace, it was               
disgust that drove me; for I see men with hoary heads in the ranks and      
young fellows of your age shirking service. Some are in Thrace getting      
an allowance of three drachmae, such fellows as Tisamenophaenippus and      
Panurgipparchides. The others are with Chares or in Chaonia, men            
like Geretotheodorus and Diomialazon; there are some of the same            
kidney, too, at Camarina, at Gela, and at Catagela.                         
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    They were elected.                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    And why do you always receive your pay, when none of these              
others ever gets any? Speak, Marilades, you have grey hair; well then,      
have you ever been entrusted with a mission? See! he shakes his             
head. Yet he is an as well as a prudent man. And you, Anthracyllus          
or Euphorides or Prinides, have you knowledge of Ecbatana or                
Chaonia? You say no, do you not? Such offices are good for the son          
of Coesyra and Lamachus, who, but yesterday ruined with debt, never         
pay their shot, and whom all their friends avoid as foot passengers         
dodge the folks who empty their slops out of window.                        
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Oh! in freedom's name! are such exaggerations to be borne?              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Not unless Lamachus gets paid for it.                                   
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    But I propose always to war with the Peloponnesians, both at            
sea, on land and everywhere to make them tremble, and trounce them          
soudly.                                                                     
                                       (He goes back into his house.)       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    For my own part, I make proclamation to all Peloponnesians,             
Megarians and Boeotians, that to them my markets are open; but I debar      
Lamachus from entering them.                                                
                                            (He goes into his house.)       
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Convinced by this man's speech, the folk have changed their view        
and approve him for having concluded peace. But let us prepare for the      
recital of the parabasis.                                                   
                   (The CHORUS moves forward and faces the audience.)       
    Never since our poet presented comedies, has he praised himself         
upon the stage; but, having been slandered by his enemies amongst           
the volatile Athenians, accused of scoffing at his country and of           
insulting the people, to-day he wishes to reply and regain for himself      
the inconstant Athenians. He maintains that he has done much that is        
good for you; if you no longer allow yourselves to be too much              
hoodwinked by strangers or seduced by flattery, if in politics you are      
no longer the ninnies you once were, it is thanks to him. Formerly,         
when delegates from other cities wanted to deceive you, they had but        
to style you, "the people crowned with violets," and at the word            
"violets" you at once sat erect on the tips of your bums. Or if, to         
tickle your vanity, someone spoke of "rich and sleek Athens," in            
return for that "sleekness" he would get anything he wanted, because        
he spoke of you as he would have of anchovies in oil. In cautioning         
you against such wiles, the poet has done you great service as well as      
in forcing you to understand what is really the democratic                  
principle. Thus the strangers, who came to pay their tributes,              
wanted to see this great poet, who had dared to speak the truth to          
Athens. And so far has the fame of his boldness reached that one day        
the Great King, when questioning the Lacedaemonian delegates, first         
asked them which of the two rival cities was the superior at sea,           
and then immediately demanded at which it was that the comic poet           
directed his biting satire. "Happy that city," he added, "if it             
listens to his counsel; it will grow in power, and its victory is           
assured." This is why the Lacedaemonians offer you peace, if you            
will cede them Aegina; not that they care for the isle, but they            
wish to rob you of your poet. As for you, never lose him, who will          
always fight for the cause of justice in his comedies; he promises you      
that his precepts will lead you to happiness, though he uses neither        
flattery, nor bribery, nor intrigue, nor deceit; instead of loading         
you with praise, he will point you to the better way. I scoff at            
Cleon's tricks and plotting; honesty and justice shall fight my cause;      
never will you find me a political poltroon, a prostitute to the            
highest bidder.                                                             
  FIRST SEMI-CHORUS (singing) I invoke thee, Acharnian Muse, fierce         
and fell as the devouring fire; sudden as the spark that bursts from        
the crackling oaken coal when roused by the quickening fan to fry           
little fishes, while others knead the dough or whip the sharp               
Thasian pickle with rapid hand, so break forth, my Muse, and inspire        
thy tribesmen with rough, vigorous, stirring strains.                       
  LEADER OF FIRST SEMI-CHORUS                                               
    We others, now old men and heavy with years, we reproach the city;      
so many are the victories we have gained for the Athenian fleets            
that we well deserve to be cared for in our declining life; yet far         
from this, we are ill-used, harassed with law-suits, delivered over to      
the scorn of stripling orators. Our minds and bodies being ravaged          
with age, Posidon should protect us, yet we have no other support than      
a staff. When standing before the judge, we can scarcely stammer forth      
the fewest words, and of justice we see but its barest shadow, whereas      
the accuser, desirous of conciliating the younger men, overwhelms us        
with his ready rhetoric; he drags us before the judge, presses us with      
questions, lays traps for us; the onslaught troubles, upsets and ruins      
poor old Tithonus, who, crushed with age, stands tongue-tied;               
sentenced to a fine, he weeps, he sobs and says to his friend, "This        
fine robs me of the last trifle that was to have bought my coffin."         
  SECOND SEMI-CHORUS (singing)                                              
    Is this not a scandal? What! the clepsydra is to kill the               
white-haired veteran, who, in fierce fighting, has so oft covered           
himself with glorious sweat, whose valour at Marathon saved the             
country! We were the ones who pursued on the field of Marathon,             
whereas now it is wretches who pursue us to the death and crush us.         
What would Marpsias reply to this?                                          
  LEADER OF SECOND SEMI-CHORUS                                              
    What an injustice that a man, bent with age like Thucydides,            
should be brow-beaten by this braggart advocate, Cephisodemus, who          
is as savage as the Scythian desert he was born in! I wept tears of         
pity when I saw a Scythian maltreat this old man, who, by Ceres,            
when he was young and the true Thucydides, would not have permitted an      
insult from Ceres herself! At that date he would have floored ten           
orators like Euathlus, he would have terrified three thousand               
Scythians with his shouts; he would have pierced the whole line of the      
enemy with his shafts. Ah! but if you will not leave the aged in            
peace, decree that the advocates be matched; thus the old man will          
only be confronted with a toothless greybeard, the young will fight         
with the braggart, the ignoble with the son of Clinias; make law            
that in the future, the old man can only be summoned and convicted          
at the courts by the aged and the young man by the youth.                   
  DICAEOPOLIS (coming out of his house and marking out a square in          
                     front of it)                                           
    These are the confines of my market-place. All Peloponnesians,          
Megarians, Boeotians, have the right to come and trade here,                
provided they sell their wares to me and not to Lamachus. As                
market-inspectors I appoint these three whips of Leprean leather,           
chosen by lot. Warned away are all informers and all men of Phasis.         
They are bringing me the pillar on which the treaty is inscribed and I      
shall erect it in the centre of the market, well in sight of all.           
     (He goes back into the house just as a Megarian enters from the        
         left, carrying a sack on his shoulder and followed by his two      
         little daughters.)                                                 
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Hail! market of Athens, beloved of Megarians. Let Zeus, the patron      
of friendship, witness, I regretted you as a mother mourns her son.         
Come, poor little daughters of an unfortunate father, try to find           
something to eat; listen to me with the full heed of an empty belly.        
Which would you prefer? To be sold or to cry with hunger?                   
  DAUGHTERS                                                                 
    To be sold, to be sold!                                                 
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    That is my opinion too. But who would make so sorry a deal as to        
buy you? Ah! I recall me a Megarian trick; I am going to disguise           
you as little porkers, that I am offering for sale. Fit your hands          
with these hoofs and take care to appear the issue of a sow of good         
breed, for, if I am forced to take you back to the house, by Hermes!        
you will suffer cruelly of hunger! Then fix on these snouts and cram        
yourselves into this sack. Forget not to grunt and to say wee-wee like      
the little pigs that are sacrificed in the Mysteries. I must summon         
Dicaeopolis. Where is be? (Loudly) Dicaeopolis, do you want to buy          
some nice little porkers?                                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS (coming out of his house)                                     
    Who are you? a Megarian?                                                
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    I have come to your market.                                             
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Well, how are things at Megara?                                         
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    We are crying with hunger at our firesides.                             
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    The fireside is jolly enough with a piper. But what else is             
doing at Megara?                                                            
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    What else? When I left for the market, the authorities were taking      
steps to let us die in the quickest manner.                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    That is the best way to get you out of all your troubles.               
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    True.                                                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What other news of Megara? What is wheat selling at?                    
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    With us it is valued as highly as the very gods in heaven!              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Is it salt that you are bringing?                                       
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Aren't you the ones that are holding back the salt?                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Is it garlic then?                                                      
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    What! garlic! do you not at every raid like mice grub up the            
ground with your pikes to pull out every single head?                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What are you bringing then?                                             
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Little sows, like those they immolate at the Mysteries.                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! very well, show me them.                                            
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    They are very fine; feel their weight. See! how fat and fine.           
  DICAEOPOLIS (feeling around in the sack)                                  
    Hey! what's this?                                                       
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    A sow.                                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    A sow, you say? Where from, then?                                       
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    From Megara. What! isn't it a sow then?                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS (feeling around in the sack again)                            
    No, I don't believe it is.                                              
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    This is too much! what an incredulous man! He says it's not a sow;      
but we will stake, if you will, a measure of salt ground up with            
thyme, that in good Greek this is called a sow and nothing else.            
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But a sow of the human kind.                                            
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Without question, by Diocles! of my own breed! Well! What think         
you? would you like to hear them squeal?                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Yes, I would.                                                           
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
 Cry quickly, wee sowlet; squeak up, hussy, or by Hermes! I take you        
back to the house.                                                          
  DAUGHTERS                                                                 
    Wee-wee, wee-wee!                                                       
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Is that a little sow, or not?                                           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Yes, it seems so; but let it grow up, and it will be a fine fat         
thing.                                                                      
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    In five years it will be just like its mother.                          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But it cannot be sacrificed.                                            
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    And why not?                                                            
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    It has no tail.                                                         
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Because it is quite young, but in good time it will have a big          
one, thick and red. But if you are willing to bring it up you will          
have a very fine sow.                                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    The two are as like as two peas.                                        
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    They are born of the same father and mother; let them be fattened,      
let them grow their bristles, and they will be the finest sows you can      
offer to Aphrodite.                                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But sows are not immolated to Aphrodite.                                
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Not sows to Aphrodite! Why, she's the only goddess to whom they         
are offered! the flesh of my sows will be excellent on your spit.           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Can they eat alone? They no longer need their mother?                   
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Certainly not, nor their father.                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What do they like most?                                                 
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Whatever is given them; but ask for yourself.                           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Speak! little sow.                                                      
  DAUGHTERS                                                                 
    Wee-wee, wee-wee!                                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Can you eat chick-pease?                                                
  DAUGHTERS                                                                 
    Wee-wee, wee-wee, wee-wee!                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    And Attic figs?                                                         
  DAUGHTERS                                                                 
    Wee-wee, wee-wee!                                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What sharp squeaks at the name of figs. Come, let some figs be          
brought for these little pigs. Will they eat them? Goodness! how            
they munch them, what a grinding of teeth, mighty Heracles! I               
believe those pigs hail from the land of the Voracians.                     
  MEGARIAN (aside)                                                          
    But they have not eaten all the figs; I took this one myself.           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! what curious creatures! For what sum will you sell them?            
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    I will give you one for a bunch of garlic, and the other, if you        
like, for a quart measure of salt.                                          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I'll buy them. Wait for me here.                                        
                                            (He goes into the house.)       
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    The deal is done. Hermes, god of good traders, grant I may sell         
both my wife and my mother in the same way!                                 
                                                (An INFORMER enters.)       
  INFORMER                                                                  
    Hi! fellow, what country are you from?                                  
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    I am a pig-merchant from Megara.                                        
  INFORMER                                                                  
    I shall denounce both your pigs and yourself as public enemies.         
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Ah! here our troubles begin afresh!                                     
  INFORMER                                                                  
    Let go of that sack. I'll teach you to talk Megarian!                   
  MEGARIAN (loudly)                                                         
    Dicaeopolis, want to denounce me.                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS (from within)                                                 
    Who dares do this thing? (He comes out of his house.)                   
Inspectors, drive out the informers. Ah! you offer to enlighten us          
without a lamp!                                                             
  INFORMER                                                                  
    What! I may not denounce our enemies?                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS (With a threatening gesture)                                  
    Watch out for yourself, and go off pretty quick and denounce            
elsewhere.                                                                  
                                            (The INFORMER runs away.)       
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    What a plague to Athens!                                                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Be reassured, Megarian. Here is the price for your two sowlets,         
the garlic and the salt. Farewell and much happiness!                       
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Ah! we never have that amongst us.                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh, I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing                                 
  MEGARIAN                                                                  
    Farewell, dear little sows, and seek, far from your father, to          
munch your bread with salt, if they give you any.                           
        (He departs and DICAEOPOLIS takes the "sows" into his house.)       
  CHORUS (singing)                                                          
    Here is a man truly happy. See how everything succeeds to his           
wish. Peacefully seated in his market, he will earn his living; woe to      
Ctesias, and all other informers who dare to enter there! You will not      
be cheated as to the value of wares, you will not again see Prepis          
wiping his big arse, nor will Cleonymus jostle you; you will take your      
walks, clothed in a fine tunic, without meeting Hyperbolus and his          
unceasing quibblings, without being accosted on the public place by         
any importunate fellow, neither by Cratinus, shaven in the fashion          
of the adulterers, nor by this musician, who plagues us with his silly      
improvisations, that hyper-rogue Artemo, with his arm-pits stinking as      
foul as a goat, like his father before him. You will not be the butt        
of the villainous Pauson's jeers, nor of Lysistratus, the disgrace          
of the Cholargian deme, who is the incarnation of all the vices, and        
endures cold and hunger more than thirty days in the month.                 
  (A BOEOTIAN enters, followed by his slave, who is carrying a large        
  assortment of articles of food, and by a troop of flute players.)         
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    By Heracles! my shoulder is quite black and blue. Ismenias, put         
the penny-royal down there very gently, and all of you, musicians from      
Thebes, strike up on your bone flutes "The Dog's Arse."                     
  (The Musicians immediately begin an atrocious rendition of a vulgar       
  tune.)                                                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Enough, damn you; get out of here Rascally hornets, away with you!      
Whence has sprung this accursed swarm of Chaeris fellows which comes        
assailing my door?                                                          
                                              (The Musicians depart.)       
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    Ah! by Iolas! Drive them off, my dear host, you will please me          
immensely; all the way from Thebes, they were there piping behind me        
and they have completely stripped my penny-royal of its blossom. But        
will you buy anything of me, some chickens or some locusts?                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! good day, Boeotian. eater of good round loaves. What do you         
bring?                                                                      
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    All that is good in Boeotia, marjoram, penny-royal, rush-mats,          
lampwicks, ducks, jays, woodcocks, water-fowl, wrens, divers.               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    A regular hail of birds is beating down on my market.                   
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    I also bring geese, hares, foxes, moles, hedgehogs, cats, lyres,        
martins, otters and eels from the Copaic lake.                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! my friend, you, who bring me the most delicious of fish, let        
me salute your eels.                                                        
  BOEOTIAN (in tragic style)                                                
    Come, thou, the eldest of my fifty Copaic virgins, come and             
complete the joy of our host.                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS (likewise)                                                    
    Oh! my well-beloved, thou object of my long regrets, thou art here      
at last then, thou, after whom the comic poets sigh, thou, who art          
dear to Morychus. Slaves, hither with the stove and the bellows.            
Look at this charming eel, that returns to us after six long years          
of absence. Salute it, my children; as for myself, I will supply            
coal to do honour to the stranger. Take it into my house; death itself      
could not separate me from her, if cooked with beet leaves.                 
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    And what will you give me in return?                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    It will pay for your market dues. And as to the rest, what do           
you wish to sell me?                                                        
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    Why, everything.                                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    On what terms? For ready-money or in wares from these parts?            
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    I would take some Athenian produce, that we have not got in             
Boeotia,                                                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Phaleric anchovies, pottery?                                            
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    Anchovies, pottery? But these we have. I want produce that is           
wanting with us and that is plentiful here.                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! I have the very thing; take away an informer, packed up             
carefully as crockery-ware.                                                 
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    By the twin gods! I should earn big money, if I took one; I             
would exhibit him as an ape full of spite.                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS (as an informer enters)                                       
    Hah! here we have Nicarchus, who comes to denounce you.                 
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    How small he is!                                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But all pure evil.                                                      
  NICARCHUS                                                                 
    Whose are these goods?                                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Mine, they come from Boeotia, I call Zeus to witness.                   
  NICARCHUS                                                                 
    I denounce them as coming from an enemy's country.                      
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    What! you declare war against birds?                                    
  NICARCHUS                                                                 
    And I am going to denounce you too.                                     
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    What harm have I done you?                                              
  NICARCHUS                                                                 
    I will say it for the benefit of those that listen; you                 
introduce lampwicks from an enemy's country.                                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Then you even denounce a wick.                                          
  NICARCHUS                                                                 
    It needs but one to set an arsenal afire.                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    A wick set an arsenal ablaze! But how, great gods?                      
  NICARCHUS                                                                 
    Should a Boeotian attach it to an insect's wing, and, taking            
advantage of a violent north wind, throw it by means of a tube into         
the arsenal and the fire once get hold of the vessels, everything           
would soon be devoured by the flames.                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! wretch! an insect and a wick devour everything!                     
                                                    (He strikes him.)       
  NICARCHUS (to the CHORUS)                                                 
    You will bear witness, that he mishandles me.                           
  DICAEOPOLIS (to the BOEOTIAN)                                             
    Shut his mouth. Give me some hay; I am going to pack him up like a      
vase, that he may not get broken on the road.                               
                (The INFORMER is bound and gagged and packed in hay.)       
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Pack up your goods carefully, friend; that the stranger may not         
break it when taking it away.                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I shall take great care with it. (He hits the INFORMER on the head      
and a stifled cry is heard.) One would say he is cracked already; he        
rings with a false note, which the gods abhor.                              
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    But what will be done with him?                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    This is a vase good for all purposes; it will be used as a              
vessel for holding all foul things, a mortar for pounding together          
law-suits, a lamp for spying upon accounts, and as a cup for the            
mixing up and poisoning of everything.                                      
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    None could ever trust a vessel for domestic use that has such a         
ring about it.                                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh! it is strong, my friend, and will never get broken, if care is      
taken to hang it head downwards.                                            
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS (to the BOEOTIAN)                                    
    There! it is well packed now!                                           
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    Well then, I will proceed to carry off my bundle.                       
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    Farewell, worthiest of strangers, take this informer, good for          
anything, and fling him where you like.                                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Bah! this rogue has given me enough trouble to pack! Here!              
Boeotian, pick up your pottery.                                             
  BOEOTIAN                                                                  
    Stoop, Ismenias, that I may put it on your shoulder, and be very        
careful with it.                                                            
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    You carry nothing worth having; however, take it, for you will          
profit by your bargain; the informers will bring you luck.                  
  (The BOEOTIAN and his slave depart; DICAEOPOLIS goes into his house;      
  a slave comes out of LAMACHUS' house.)                                    
  SLAVE                                                                     
    Dicaeopolis!                                                            
  DICAEOPOLIS (from within)                                                 
    What's the matter? Why are you calling me?                              
  SLAVE                                                                     
    Lamachus wants to keep the Feast of Cups, and I come by his             
order to bid you one drachma for some thrushes and three more for a         
Copaic eel.                                                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS (coming out)                                                  
    And who is this Lamachus, who demands an eel?                           
  SLAVE (in tragic style)                                                   
    He is the terrible, indefatigable Lamachus, who is always               
brandishing his fearful Gorgon's head and the three plumes which            
o'ershadow his helmet.                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, no, he will get nothing, even though he gave me his buckler.        
Let him eat salt fish while he shakes his plumes, and, if he comes          
here making any din, I shall call the inspectors. As for myself, I          
shall take away all these goods; (in tragic style) I go home on             
thrushes' wings and black-birds' pinions. (He goes into his house.)         
  FIRST SEMI-CHORUS (singing)                                               
    You see, citizens, you see the good fortune which this man owes to      
his prudence, to his profound wisdom. You see how, since he has             
concluded peace, he buys what is useful in the household and good to        
eat hot. All good things flow towards him unsought. Never will welcome      
the god of war in my house; never shall he sing the "Harmodius" at          
my table; he is a sot, who comes feasting with those who are                
overflowing with good things and brings all manner of mischief in           
his train. He overthrows, ruins, rips open; it is vain to make him a        
thousand offers, to say "be seated, pray, and drink this cup, profered      
in all friendship"; he burns our vine-stocks and brutally spills on         
the ground the wine from our vineyards.                                     
  SECOND SEMI-CHORUS (singing)                                              
    This man, on the other hand, covers his table with a thousand           
dishes; proud of his good fortunes, he has had these feathers cast          
before his door to show us how he lives. (A woman appears, bearing the      
attributes of Peace.) Oh, Peace! companion of fair Aphrodite and of         
the sweet Graces, how charming are thy features and yet I never knew        
it! Would that Eros might join me to thee, Eros crowned with roses          
as Zeuxis shows him to us! Do I seem somewhat old to thee? I am yet         
able to make thee a threefold offering; despite my age I could plant a      
long row of vines for you; then beside these some tender cuttings from      
the fig; finally a youn, vinestock, loaded with fruit, and all              
around the field olive trees, to furnish us with oil wherewith to           
anoint us both at the New Moons.                                            
                                                   (A HERALD enters.)       
  HERALD                                                                    
    Oyez, oyez! As was the custom of your forebears, empty a full           
pitcher of wine at the call of the trumpet; he who first sees the           
bottom shall get a wine-skin as round and plump as Ctesiphon's belly.       
  DICAEOPOLIS (coming out of the house; to his family within)               
    Women, children, have you not heard? Faith! do you not heed the         
herald? Quick! let the hares boil and roast merrily; keep them              
turning; withdraw them from the flame; prepare the chaplets; reach          
me the skewers that I may spit the thrushes.                                
  LEADER OF FIRST SEMI-CHORUS                                               
    I envy you your wisdom and even more your good cheer.                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What then will you say when you see the thrushes roasting?              
  LEADER OF FIRST SEMI-CHORUS                                               
    Ah! true indeed!                                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Slave! stir up the fire.                                                
  LEADER OF FIRST SEMI-CHORUS                                               
    See, how he knows his business, what a perfect cook! How well he        
understands the way to prepare a good dinner!                               
                                      (A HUSBANDMAN enters in haste.)       
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    Ah! woe is me!                                                          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Heracles! What have we here?                                            
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    A most miserable man.                                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Keep your misery for yourself.                                          
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    Ah! friend! since you alone are enjoying peace, grant me a part of      
your truce, were it but five years.                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What has happened to you?                                               
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    I am ruined; I have lost a pair of steers.                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    How?                                                                    
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    The Boeotians seized them at Phyle.                                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! poor wretch! and do you still wear white?                           
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    Their dung made my wealth.                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What can I do in the matter?                                            
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    Crying for my beasts has lost me my eyesight. Ah! if you care           
for poor Dercetes of Phyle, anoint mine eyes quickly with your balm of      
peace.                                                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But, my poor fellow, I do not practise medicine.                        
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    Come, I adjure you; perhaps I shall recover my steers.                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Impossible; away, go and whine to the disciples of Pittalus.            
  HUSBANDMAN                                                                
    Grant me but one drop of peace; pour it into this little reed.          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    No, not a particle; go and weep somewhere else.                         
  HUSBANDMAN (as he departs)                                                
    Oh! oh! oh! my poor beasts!                                             
  LEADER OF SECOND SEMI-CHORUS                                              
    This man has discovered the sweetest enjoyment in peace; he will        
share it with none.                                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS (to a slave)                                                  
    Pour honey over this tripe; set it before the fire to dry.              
  LEADER OF SECOND SEMI-CHORUS                                              
    What lofty tones he uses! Did you hear him?                             
  DICAEOPOLIS (to the slaves inside the house)                              
    Get the eels on the gridiron!                                           
  LEADER OF SECOND SEMI-CHORUS                                              
    You are killing me with hunger; your smoke is choking your              
neighbours, and you split our ears with your bawling.                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Have this fried and let it be nicely browned.                           
    (He goes back into the house. A WEDDING GUEST enters, carrying a        
    package.)                                                               
  WEDDING GUEST                                                             
    Dicaeopolis! Dicaeopolis!                                               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Who are you?                                                            
  WEDDING GUEST                                                             
    A young bridegroom sends you these viands from the marriage feast.      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Whoever he be, I thank him.                                             
  WEDDING GUEST                                                             
    And in return, he prays you to pour a glass of peace into this          
vase, that he may not have to go to the front and may stay at home          
to make love to his young wife.                                             
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Take back, take back your viands; for a thousand drachmae I             
would not give a drop of peace. (A young woman enters) But who is she?      
  WEDDING GUEST                                                             
    She is the matron of honour; she wants to say something to you          
from the bride privately.                                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Come, what do you wish to say? (The MATRON OF HONOUR whispers in        
his ear.) Ah! what a ridiculous demand! The bride burns with longing        
to keep her husband's tool at home. Come! bring hither my truce; to         
her alone will I give some of it, for she is a woman, and, as such,         
should not suffer under the war. Here, friend, hand me your vial.           
And as to the manner of applying this balm, tell the bride, when a          
levy of soldiers is made, to rub some in bed on her husband, where          
most needed. (The MATRON OF HONOUR and the WEDDING GUEST depart.)           
There, slave, take away my truce! Now, quick, bring me the                  
wine-flagon, that I may fill up the drinking bowls!                         
                                 (The slave leaves. A HERALD enters.)       
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS (in tragic style)                                    
    I see a man, "striding along apace, with knitted brows; he seems        
to us the bearer of terrible tidings."                                      
  HERALD (in tragic style)                                                  
    Oh! toils and battles and Lamachuses!                                   
                                       (He knocks on LAMACHUS' door.)       
  LAMACHUS (from within; in tragic style)                                   
    What noise resounds around my dwelling, where shines the glint          
of arms.                                                                    
                                         (He comes out of his house.)       
  HERALD                                                                    
    The Generals order you forthwith to take your battalions and            
your plumes, and, despite the snow, to go and guard our borders.            
They have learnt that a band of Boeotians intend taking advantage of        
the Feast of Cups to invade our country.                                    
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Ah! the Generals! they are numerous, but not good for much! It's        
cruel, not to be able to enjoy the feast!                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Oh! warlike host of Lamachus!                                           
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Wretch! do you dare to jeer me?                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Do you want to fight this four-winged Geryon?                           
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Oh! oh! what fearful tidings!                                           
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Ah! ah! I see another herald running up; what news does he bring        
me?                                                                         
                                             (Another HERALD enters.)       
  HERALD                                                                    
    Dicaeopolis!                                                            
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What is the matter?                                                     
  HERALD                                                                    
    Come quickly to the feast and bring your basket and your cup; it        
is the priest of Bacchus who invites you. But hasten, the guests            
have been waiting for you a long while. All is ready-couches,               
tables, cushions, chaplets, perfumes, dainties and whores to boot;          
biscuits, cakes, sesamebread, tarts, lovely dancing women, and the          
"Harmodius." But come with all speed.                                       
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Oh! hostile gods!                                                       
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    This is not astounding; you have chosen this great ugly Gorgon's        
head for your patron. (To a slave) You, shut the door, and let someone      
get ready the meal.                                                         
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Slave! slave! my knapsack!                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Slave! slave! a basket!                                                 
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Take salt and thyme, slave, and don't forget the onions.                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Get some fish for me; I cannot bear onions.                             
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Slave, wrap me up a little stale salt meat in a fig-leaf.               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    And for me some nice fat tripe in a fig-leaf; I will have it            
cooked here.                                                                
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Bring me the plumes for my helmet.                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Bring me wild pigeons and thrushes.                                     
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    How white and beautiful are these ostrich feathers!                     
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    How fat and well browned is the flesh of this wood-pigeon!              
  LAMACHUS (to DICAEOPOLIS)                                                 
    My friend, stop scoffing at my armour.                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS (to LAMACHUS)                                                 
    My friend, stop staring at my thrushes.                                 
  LAMACHUS (to his slave)                                                   
    Bring me the case for my triple plume.                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS (to his slave)                                                
    Pass me over that dish of hare.                                         
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Alas! the moths have eaten the hair of my crest.                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Shall I eat my hare before dinner?                                      
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    My friend, will you kindly not speak to me?                             
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    I'm not speaking to you; I'm scolding my slave. (To the slave)          
Shall we wager and submit the matter to Lamachus, which of the two          
is the best to eat, a locust or a thrush?                                   
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Insolent hound!                                                         
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    He much prefers the locusts.                                            
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Slave, unhook my spear and bring it to me.                              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Slave, slave, take the sausage from the fire and bring it to me.        
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Come, let me draw my spear from its sheath. Hold it, slave, hold        
it tight.                                                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    And you, slave, grip well hold of the skewer.                           
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Slave, the bracings for my shield.                                      
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Pull the loaves out of the oven and bring me these bracings of          
my stomach.                                                                 
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    My round buckler with the Gorgon's head.                                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    My round cheese-cake.                                                   
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    What clumsy wit!                                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    What delicious cheese-cake!                                             
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Pour oil on the buckler. Hah! hah I can see reflected there an old      
    man who will be accused of cowardice.                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Pour honey on the cake. Hah! hah! hah! I can see an old man who         
makes Lamachus of the Gorgon's head weep with rage.                         
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Slave, full war armour.                                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Slave, my beaker; that is my armour.                                    
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    With this I hold my ground with any foe.                                
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    And I with this in any drinking bout.                                   
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Fasten the strappings to the buckler.                                   
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Pack the dinner well into the basket.                                   
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Personally I shall carry the knapsack.                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Personally I shall carry the cloak.                                     
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Slave, take up the buckler and let's be off. It is snowing! God         
help us! A wintry business!                                                 
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Take up the basket, mine's a festive business.                          
                                (They depart in opposite directions.)       
  LEADER OF THE CHORUS                                                      
    We wish you both joy on your journeys, which differ so much. One        
goes to mount guard and freeze, while the other will drink, crowned         
with flowers, and then lie with a young beauty till he gets his tool        
all sore.                                                                   
  CHORUS (singing)                                                          
    I say it freely; may Zeus confound Antimachus, the poet-historian,      
the son of Psacas! When Choregus at the Lenaea, alas! alas! he              
dismissed me dinnerless. May I see him devouring with his eyes a            
cuttle-fish, just served, well cooked, hot and properly salted; and         
the moment that he stretches his hand to help himself, may a dog seize      
it and run off with it. Such is my first wish. I also hope for him a        
misfortune at night. That returning all-fevered from horse practice,        
he may meet an Orestes, mad with drink, who will crack him over the         
head; that wishing to seize a stone, he, in the dark, may pick up a         
fresh turd, hurl, miss him and hit Cratinus.                                
                                      (The slave of LAMACHUS enters.)       
  SLAVE OF LAMACHUS (knocking on the door of LAMACHUS' house, in            
                    tragic style)                                           
    Captives present within the house of Lamachus, water, water in a        
little pot! Make it warm, get ready cloths, cerate, greasy wool and         
bandages for his ankle. In leaping a ditch, the master has hurt             
himself against a stake; he has dislocated and twisted his ankle,           
broken his head by falling on a stone, while his Gorgon shot far            
away from his buckler. His mighty braggadocio plume rolled on the           
ground; at this sight he uttered these doleful words, "Radiant star, I      
gaze on thee for the last time; my eyes close to all light, I die."         
Having said this, he falls into the water, gets out again, meets            
some runaways and pursues the robbers with his spear at their               
backsides. But here he comes, himself. Get the door open.                   
                        (In this final scene all the lines are sung.)       
  LAMACHUS (limping in with the help of two soldiers and singing a          
           song of woe)                                                     
    Oh! heavens! oh! heavens! What cruel pain! I faint, I tremble!          
Alas! I die! the foe's lance has struck me! But what would hurt me          
most would be for Dicaeopolis to see me wounded thus and laugh at my        
ill-fortune.                                                                
  DICAEOPOLIS (enters with two courtesans, singing gaily)                   
    Oh! my gods! what breasts! Swelling like quinces! Come, my              
treasures, give me voluptuous kisses Glue your lips to mine. Haha! I        
was the first to empty my cup.                                              
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Oh! cruel fate! how I suffer! accursed wounds!                          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Hah! hah! Hail! Lamachippus!                                            
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Woe is me!                                                              
  DICAEOPOLIS (to the one girl)                                             
    Why do you kiss me?                                                     
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Ah, wretched me!                                                        
  DICAEOPOLIS (to the other girl)                                           
    And why do you bite me?                                                 
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    'Twas a cruel score I was paying back!                                  
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Scores are not evened at the Feast of Cups!                             
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Oh Oh! Paean, Paean!                                                    
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    But to-day is not the feast of Paean.                                   
  LAMACHUS (to the soldiers)                                                
    Oh take hold of my leg, do; ah I hold it tenderly, my friends!          
  DICAEOPOLIS (to the girls)                                                
    And you, my darlings, take hold of my tool, both of you!                
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    This blow with the stone makes me dizzy; my sight grows dim.            
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    For myself, I want to get to bed; I've got an erection and I            
want to make love in the dark.                                              
  LAMACHUS                                                                  
    Carry me to the surgeon Pittalus. Put me in his healing hands!          
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Take me to the judges. Where is the king of the feast? The              
wine-skin is mine!                                                          
  LAMACHUS (as he is being carried away)                                    
    That spear has pierced my bones; what torture I endure!                 
  DICAEOPOLIS (to the audience)                                             
    You see this empty cup! I triumph! I triumph!                           
  CHORUS                                                                    
    Old man, I come at your bidding! You triumph! you triumph!              
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Again I have brimmed my cup with umnixed wine and drained it at         
a draught!                                                                  
  CHORUS                                                                    
    You triumph then, brave champion; thine is the wine-skin!               
  DICAEOPOLIS                                                               
    Follow me, singing "Triumph! Triumph!"                                  
  CHORUS                                                                    
    Aye! we will sing of thee, thee and thy sacred wine-skin, and we        
all, as we follow thee, will repeat in thine honour, "Triumph,              
Triumph!                                                                    
-                                                                           
                                   -THE END-                                
                                                                            
                                                                            

