Lysistrata: Ah! if only they had
been invited to a Bacchic revelling, or a feast of Pan or Aphrodite
or Genetyllis, why! the streets would have been impassable for the
thronging tambourines! Now there's never a woman here-ah! except my
neighbour Cleonice, whom I see approaching yonder.... Good day,
Cleonice.
Cleonice: Good day, Lysistrata; but
pray, why this dark, forbidding face, my dear? Believe me, you don't
look a bit pretty with those black lowering brows.
Lysistrata: Oh, Cleonice, my heart
is on fire; I blush for our sex. Men will have it we are tricky and
sly....
Cleonice: And they are quite right,
upon my word!
Lysistrata: Yet, look you, when the
women are summoned to meet for a matter of the greatest importance,
they lie in bed instead of coming.
Cleonice: Oh! they will come, my
dear; but it's not easy, you know, for women to leave the house. One
is busy pottering about her husband; another is getting the servant
up; a third is putting her child asleep or washing the brat or
feeding it.
Lysistrata: But I tell you, the
business that calls them here is far and away more urgent.
Cleonice: And why do you summon us,
dear Lysistrata? What is it all about?
Lysistrata: About a big thing.
Cleonice (taking this in a
different sense; with great interest): And is it thick too?
Lysistrata: Yes, very thick.
Cleonice: And we are not all on the
spot! Imagine!
Lysistrata (wearily): Oh! if
it were what you suppose, there would be never an absentee. No, no,
it concerns a thing I have turned about and about this way and that
so many sleepless nights.
Cleonice (still unable to be
serious): It must be something mighty fine and subtle for you to
have turned it about so!
Lysistrata: So fine, it means just
this, Greece saved by the women!
Cleonice: By the women! Why, its
salvation hangs on a poor thread then!
Lysistrata: Our country's fortunes
depend on us-it is with us to undo utterly the Peloponnesians.
Cleonice: That would be a noble deed
truly!
Lysistrata: To exterminate the
Boeotians to a man!
Cleonice: But surely you would spare
the eels.
Lysistrata: For Athens' sake I will
never threaten so fell a doom; trust me for that. However, if the
Boeotian and Peloponnesian women join us, Greece is saved.
Cleonice: But how should women
perform so wise and glorious an achievement, we women who dwell in
the retirement of the household, clad in diaphanous garments of
yellow silk and long flowing gowns, decked out with flowers and shod
with dainty little slippers?
Lysistrata: Ah, but those are the
very sheet-anchors of our salvation-those yellow tunics, those
scents and slippers, those cosmetics and transparent robes.
Cleonice: How so, pray?
Lysistrata: There is not a man will
wield a lance against another...
Cleonice: Quick, I will get me a
yellow tunic from the dyer's.
Lysistrata: ...or want a shield.
Cleonice: I'll run and put on a
flowing gown.
Lysistrata: ...or draw a sword.
Cleonice: I'll haste and buy a pair
of slippers this instant.
Lysistrata: Now tell me, would not
the women have done best to come?
Cleonice: Why, they should have
flown here!
Lysistrata: Ah! my dear, you'll see
that like true Athenians, they will do everything too late.... Why,
there's not a woman come from the shore, not one from Salamis.
Cleonice: But I know for certain
they embarked at daybreak.
Lysistrata: And the dames from
Acharnae! why, I thought they would have been the very first to
arrive.
Cleonice: Theagenes' wife at any
rate is sure to come; she has actually been to consult Hecate....
But look! here are some arrivals-and there are more behind. Ah! ha!
now what countrywomen may they be?
Lysistrata: They are from Anagyra.
Cleonice: Yes! upon m word, 'tis a
levy en masse of all the female population of Anagyra! (Myrrhine
enters, followed by other women.)
Myrrhine: Are we late, Lysistrata?
Tell us, pray; what, not a word?
Lysistrata: I cannot say much for
you, Myrrhine! you have not bestirred yourself overmuch for an
affair of such urgency.
Myrrhine: I could not find my girdle
in the dark. However, if the matter is so pressing, here we are; so
speak.
Cleonice: No, let's wait a moment
more, till the women of Boeotia arrive and those from the
Peloponnese.
Lysistrata: Yes, that is best....
Ah! here comes Lampito. (Lampito, a husky Spartan damsel, enters
with three others, two from Boeotia and one from Corinth.) Good
day, Lampito, dear friend from Lacedaemon. How well and handsome you
look! what a rosy complexion! and how strong you seem; why, you
could strangle a bull surely!
Lampito: Yes, indeed, I really think
I could. It's because I do gymnastics and practise the
bottom-kicking dance.
Cleonice (opening Lampito's robe
and baring her bosom): And what superb breasts!
Lampito: La! you are feeling me as
if I were a beast for sacrifice.
Lysistrata: And this young woman,
where is she from?
Lampito: She is a noble lady from
Boeotia.
Lysistrata: Ah! my pretty Boeotian
friend, you are as blooming as a garden.
Cleonice (making another
inspection): Yes, on my word! and her "garden" is so thoroughly
weeded too!
Lysistrata (pointing to the
Corinthian): And who is this?
Lampito: 'Tis an honest woman, by my
faith! she comes from Corinth.
Cleonice: Oh! honest, no doubt
then-as honesty goes at Corinth.
Lampito: But who has called together
this council of women, pray?
Lysistrata: I have.
Lampito: Well then, tell us what you
want of us.
Cleonice: Yes, please tell us! What
is this very important business you wish to inform us about?
Lysistrata: I will tell you. But
first answer me one question.
Cleonice: Anything you wish.
Lysistrata: Don't you feel sad and
sorry because the fathers of your children are far away from you
with the army? For I'll wager there is not one of you whose husband
is not abroad at this moment.
Cleonice: Mine has been the last
five months in Thrace-looking after Eucrates.
Myrrhine: It's seven long months
since mine left for Pylos.
Lampito: As for mine, if he ever
does return from service, he's no sooner home than he takes down his
shield again and flies back to the wars.
Lysistrata: And not so much as the
shadow of a lover! Since the day the Milesians betrayed us, I have
never once seen an eight-inch gadget even, to be a leathern
consolation to us poor widows.... Now tell me, if I have discovered
a means of ending the war, will you all second me?
Cleonice: Yes verily, by all the
goddesses, I swear I will, though I have to put my gown in pawn, and
drink the money the same day.
Myrrhine: And so will I, though I
must be split in two like a flat-fish, and have half myself removed.
Lampito: And I too; why to secure
peace, I would climb to the top of Mount Taygetus.
Lysistrata: Then I will out with it
at last, my mighty secret! Oh! sister women, if we would compel our
husbands to make peace, we must refrain...
Cleonice: Refrain from what? tell
us, tell us!
Lysistrata: But will you do it?
Myrrhine: We will, we will, though
we should die of it.
Lysistrata: We must refrain from the
male altogether.... Nay, why do you turn your backs on me? Where are
you going? So, you bite your lips, and shake your heads, eh? Why
these pale, sad looks? why these tears? Come, will you do it-yes or
no? Do you hesitate?
Cleonice: I will not do it, let the
war go on.
Myrrhine: Nor will I; let the war go
on.
Lysistrata (to Myrrhine): And
you say this, my pretty flat-fish, who declared just now they might
split you in two?
Cleonice: Anything, anything but
that! Bid me go through the fire, if you will,-but to rob us of the
sweetest thing in all the world, Lysistrata darling!
Lysistrata (to Myrrhine): And
you?
Myrrhine: Yes, I agree with the
others; I too would sooner go through the fire.
Lysistrata: Oh, wanton, vicious sex!
the poets have done well to make tragedies upon us; we are good for
nothing then but love and lewdness! But you, my dear, you from hardy
Sparta, if you join me, all may yet be well; help me, second me, I
beg you.
Lampito: 'Tis a hard thing, by the
two goddesses it is! for a woman to sleep alone without ever a
strong male in her bed. But there, peace must come first.
Lysistrata: Oh, my darling, my
dearest, best friend, you are the only one deserving the name of
woman!
Cleonice: But if-which the gods
forbid-we do refrain altogether from what you say, should we get
peace any sooner?
Lysistrata: Of course we should, by
the goddesses twain! We need only sit indoors with painted cheeks,
and meet our mates lightly clad in transparent gowns of Amorgos
silk, and perfectly depilated; they will get their tools up and be
wild to lie with us. That will be the time to refuse, and they will
hasten to make peace, I am convinced of that!
Lampito: Yes, just as Menelaus, when
he saw Helen's naked bosom, threw away his sword, they say.
Cleonice: But, oh dear, suppose our
husbands go away and leave us.
Lysistrata: Then, as Pherecrates
says, we must "flay a skinned dog," that's all.
Cleonice: Fiddlesticks! these
proverbs are all idle talk.... But if our husbands drag us by main
force into the bedchamber?
Lysistrata: Hold on to the door
posts.
Cleonice: But if they beat us?
Lysistrata: Then yield to their
wishes, but with a bad grace; there is no pleasure in it for them,
when they do it by force. Besides, there are a thousand ways of
tormenting them. Never fear, they'll soon tire of the game; there's
no satisfaction for a man, unless the woman shares it.
Cleonice: Very well, if you must
have it so, we agree.
Lampito: For ourselves, no doubt we
shall persuade our husbands to conclude a fair and honest peace; but
there is the Athenian populace, how are we to cure these folk of
their warlike frenzy?
Lysistrata: Have no fear; we
undertake to make our own people listen to reason.
Lampito: That's impossible, so long
as they have their trusty ships and the vast treasures stored in the
temple of Athene.
Lysistrata: Ah! but we have seen to
that; this very day the Acropolis will be in our hands. That is the
task assigned to the older women; while we are here in council, they
are going, under pretence of offering sacrifice, to seize the
citadel.
Lampito: Well said indeed!
everything is going for the best.
Lysistrata: Come, quick, Lampito,
and let us bind ourselves by an inviolable oath.
Lampito: Recite the terms; we will
swear to them.
Lysistrata: With pleasure. Where is
our Scythian policewoman? Now, what are you staring at, pray? Lay
this shield on the earth before us, its hollow upwards, and someone
bring me the victim's inwards.
Cleonice: Lysistrata, say, what oath
are we to swear?
Lysistrata: What oath? Why, in
Aeschylus, they sacrifice a sheep, and swear over a buckler; we will
do the same.
Cleonice: No, Lysistrata, one cannot
swear peace over a buckler, surely.
Lysistrata: What other oath do you
prefer?
Cleonice: Let's take a white horse,
and sacrifice it, and swear on its entrails.
Lysistrata: But where shall we get a
white horse?
Cleonice: Well, what oath shall we
take then?
Lysistrata: Listen to me. Let's set
a great black bowl on the ground; let's sacrifice a skin of Thasian
wine into it, and take oath not to add one single drop of water.
Lampito: Ah! that's an oath pleases
me more than I can say.
Lysistrata: Let them bring me a bowl
and a skin of wine.
Cleonice: Ah! my dears, what a noble
big bowl! what fun it will be to empty it
Lysistrata: Set the bowl down on the
ground, and lay your hands on the victim. ....Almighty goddess,
Persuasion, and thou, bowl, boon comrade of joy and merriment,
receive this our sacrifice, and be propitious to us poor women!
Cleonice (as Lysistrata pours the
wine into the bowl): Oh! the fine red blood! how well it flows!
Lampito: And what a delicious
bouquet, by Castor!
Cleonice: Now, my dears, let me
swear first, if you please.
Lysistrata: No, by Aphrodite, unless
it's decided by lot. But come, then, Lampito, and all of you, put
your hands to the bowl; and do you, Cleonice, repeat for all the
rest the solemn terms I am going to recite. Then you must all swear,
and pledge yourselves by the same promises,-I will have naught to do
whether with lover or husband...
Cleonice (faintly): I will
have naught to do whether with lover or husband...
Lysistrata: Albeit he come to me
with an erection...
Cleonice (her voice quavering):
Albeit he come to me with an erection... (in despair) Oh!
Lysistrata, I cannot bear it!
Lysistrata (ignoring this
outburst): I will live at home unbulled...
Cleonice: I will live at home
unbulled...
Lysistrata: Beautifully dressed and
wearing a saffron-coloured gown
Cleonice: Beautifully dressed and
wearing a saffron-coloured gown...
Lysistrata: To the end I may inspire
my husband with the most ardent longings.
Cleonice: To the end I may inspire
my husband with the most ardent longings.
Lysistrata: Never will I give myself
voluntarily...
Cleonice: Never will I give myself
voluntarily...
Lysistrata: And if he has me by
force...
Cleonice: And if he has me by
force...
Lysistrata: I will be cold as ice,
and never stir a limb...
Cleonice: I will be cold as ice, and
never stir a limb...
Lysistrata: I will neither extend my
Persian slippers toward the ceiling...
Cleonice: I will neither extend my
Persian slippers toward the ceiling...
Lysistrata: Nor will I crouch like
the carven lions on a knife-handle.
Cleonice: Nor will I crouch like the
carven lions on a knife-handle.
Lysistrata: And if I keep my oath,
may I be suffered to drink of this wine.
Cleonice (more courageously):
And if I keep my oath, may I be suffered to drink of this wine.
Lysistrata: But if I break it, let
my bowl be filled with water.
Cleonice: But if I break it, let my
bowl be filled with water.
Lysistrata: Will you all take this
oath?
All: We do.
Lysistrata: Then I'll now consume
this remnant. (She drinks.)
Cleonice (reaching for the cup):
Enough, enough, my dear; now let us all drink in turn to cement our
friendship. (They pass the cup around and all drink. A great
commotion is heard off stage.)
Lampito: Listen! what do those cries
mean?
Lysistrata: It's what I was telling
you; the women have just occupied the Acropolis. So now, Lampito,
you return to Sparta to organize the plot, while your comrades here
remain as hostages. For ourselves, let us go and join the rest in
the citadel, and let us push the bolts well home.
Cleonice: But don't you think the
men will march up against us?
Lysistrata: I laugh at them. Neither
threats nor flames shall force our doors; they shall open only on
the conditions I have named.
Cleonice: Yes, yes, by Aphrodite;
otherwise we should be called cowardly and wretched women. (She
follows Lysistrata out.)
The scene shifts to the entrance of the
Acropolis. The Chorus of Old Men slowly enters, carrying sticks and
pots of fire.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Go
easy, Draces, go easy; why, your shoulder is all chafed by these
damned heavy olive stocks. But forward still, forward, man, as needs
must.
First Semi-Chorus of Old Men (singing):
What unlooked-for things do happen, to be sure, in a long life! Ah!
Strymodorus, who would ever have thought it? Here we have the women,
who used, for our misfortune, to eat our bread and live in our
houses, daring nowadays to lay hands on the holy image of the
goddess, to seize the Acropolis and draw bars and bolts to keep any
from entering!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Come, Philurgus, man, let's hurry there; let's lay our sticks all
about the citadel, and on the blazing pile burn with our hands these
vile conspiratresses, one and all-and Lycon's wife first and
foremost!
Second Semi-Chorus of Old Men (singing):
Nay, by Demeter, never will I let them laugh at me, whiles I have a
breath left in my body. Cleomenes himself, the first who ever seized
our citadel, had to quit it to his sore dishonour; spite his
Lacedaemonian pride, he had to deliver me up his arms and slink off
with a single garment to his back. My word! but he was filthy and
ragged! and what an unkempt beard, to be sure! He had not had a bath
for six long years!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Oh!
but that was a mighty siege! Our men were ranged seventeen deep
before the gate, and never left their posts, even to sleep. These
women, these enemies of Euripides and all the gods, shall I do
nothing to hinder their inordinate insolence? else let them tear
down my trophies of Marathon.
First Semi-Chorus of Old Men (singing):
But look, to finish this toilsome climb only this last steep bit is
left to mount. Truly, it's no easy job without beasts of burden, and
how these logs do bruise my shoulder! Still let us carry on, and
blow up our fire and see it does not go out just as we reach our
destination. Phew! phew! (Blowing the fire) Oh! dear! what a
dreadful smoke!
Second Semi-Chorus of Old Men (singing):
It bites my eyes like a mad dog. It is Lemnian fire for sure, or it
would never devour my eyelids like this. Come on, Laches, let's
hurry, let's bring succour to the goddess; it's now or never! Phew!
phew! (Blowing the fire) Oh dear! what a confounded smoke!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
There now, there's our fire all bright and burning, thank the gods!
Now, why not first put down our loads here, then take a vine-branch,
light it at the brazier and hurl it at the gate by way of
battering-ram? If they don't answer our summons by pulling back the
bolts, then we set fire to the woodwork, and the smoke will choke
them. Ye gods! what a smoke! Pfaugh! Is there never a Samian general
will help me unload my burden?-Ah! it shall not gall my shoulder any
more. (Setting down the wood) Come, brazier, do your duty,
make the embers flare, that I may kindle a brand; I want to be the
first to hurl one. Aid me, heavenly Victory; let us punish for their
insolent audacity the women who have seized our citadel, and may we
raise a trophy of triumph for success! (They begin to build a
fire. The CHORUS OF WOMEN now enters, carrying pots of water.)
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Oh!
my dears, methinks I see fire and smoke; can it be a conflagration?
Let us hurry all we can.
First Semi-Chorus of Women (singing):
Fly, fly, Nicodice, ere Calyce and Critylle perish in the fire, or
are stifled in the smoke raised by these accursed old men and their
pitiless laws. But, great gods, can it be I come too late? Rising at
dawn, I had the utmost trouble to fill this vessel at the fountain.
Oh! what a crowd there was, and what a din! What a rattling of
water-pots! Servants and slave-girls pushed and thronged me!
However, here I have it full at last; and I am running to carry the
water to my fellow-townswomen, whom our foes are plotting to burn
alive.
Second Semi-Chorus of Women (singing):
News has been brought us that a company of old, doddering
grey-beards, loaded with enormous sticks, as if they wanted to heat
a furnace, have taken the field, vomiting dreadful threats, crying
that they must reduce to ashes these horrible women. Suffer them
not, oh! goddess, but, of thy grace, may I see Athens and Greece
cured of their warlike folly. 'Tis to this end, oh! thou guardian
deity of our city, goddess of the golden crest, that they have
seized thy sanctuary. Be their friend and ally, Athene, and if any
man hurl against them lighted firebrands, aid us to carry water to
extinguish them.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: What
is this I see, ye wretched old men? Honest and pious folk ye cannot
be who act so vilely.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Ah,
ha! here's something new! a swarm of women stand posted outside to
defend the gates!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Fart
at us, would you? we seem a mighty host, yet you do not see the
ten-thousandth part of our sex.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Ho,
Phaedrias! shall we stop their cackle? Suppose one of us were to
break a stick across their backs, eh?
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Let
us set down our water-pots on the ground, to be out of the way, if
they should dare to offer us violence.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Let
someone knock out two or three teeth for them, as they did to
Bupalus; they won't talk so loud then.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Come
on then; I wait you with unflinching foot, and no other bitch will
ever grab your balls.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Silence! or my stick will cut short your days.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Now,
just you dare to touch Stratyllis with the tip of your finger!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: And
if I batter you to pieces with my fists, what will you do?
Leader of the Chorus of Women: I
will tear out your lungs and entrails with my teeth.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Oh!
what a clever poet is Euripides! how well he says that woman is the
most shameless of animals.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Let's
pick up our water-jars again, Rhodippe.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: You
damned women, what do you mean to do here with your water?
Leader of the Chorus of Women: And
you, old death-in-life, with your fire? Is it to cremate yourself?
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: I
am going to build you a pyre to roast your female friends upon.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: And
I,-I am going to put out your fire.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: You
put out my fire-you?
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Yes,
you shall soon see.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: I
don't know what prevents me from roasting you with this torch.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: I am
getting you a bath ready to clean off the filth.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: A
bath for me, you dirty slut?
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Yes,
indeed, a nuptial bath-tee heel
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men (turning
to his followers): Do you hear that? What insolence!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: I am
a free woman, I tell you.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: I
will make you hold your tongue, never fear!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Ah
ha! you shall never sit any more amongst the Heliasts.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men (to
his torch): Burn off her hair for her!
Leader of the Chorus of Women (to
her pot): Achelous, do your duty! (The women pitch the water
in their water-pots over the old men.)
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Oh,
dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Was
it hot?
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Hot, great gods! Enough, enough!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: I'm
watering you, to make you bloom afresh.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Alas! I am too dry! Ah, me how! how I am trembling with cold! (A
Magistrate enters, with a few Scythian policemen.)
Magistrate: These women, have they
made din enough, I wonder, with their tambourines? bewept Adonis
enough upon their terraces? I was listening to the speeches last
assembly day, and Demostratus, whom heaven confound! was saying we
must all go over to Sicily-and lo! his wife was dancing round
repeating: "Alas! alas! Adonis, woe is me for Adonis!" Demostratus
was saying we must levy hoplites at Zacynthus-and there was his
wife, more than half drunk, screaming on the house-roof: "Weep, weep
for Adonis!"-while that infamous Mad Ox was bellowing away on his
side.-Do you not blush, you women, for your wild and uproarious
doings?
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: But
you don't know all their effrontery yet! They abused and insulted
us; then soused us with the water in their water-pots, and have set
us wringing out our clothes, for all the world as if we had bepissed
ourselves.
Magistrate: And well done too, by
Posidon! We men must share the blame of their ill conduct; it is we
who teach them to love riot and dissoluteness and sow the seeds of
wickedness in their hearts. You see a husband go into a shop: "Look
you, jeweller," says he, "you remember the necklace you made for my
wife. Well, the other evening, when she was dancing, the catch came
open. Now, I am bound to start for Salamis; will you make it
convenient to go up to-night to make her fastening secure?" Another
will go to the cobbler, a great, strong fellow, with a great, long
tool, and tell him: "The strap of one of my wife's sandals presses
her little toe, which is extremely sensitive; come in about midday
to supple the thing and stretch it." Now see the results. Take my
own case-as a Magistrate I have enlisted rowers; I want money to pay
them, and the women slam the door in my face. But why do we stand
here with arms crossed? Bring me a crowbar; I'll chastise their
insolence!-Ho! there, my fine fellow! (to one of the Scythians)
what are, you gaping at the crows for? looking for a tavern, I
suppose, eh? Come on, bring crowbars here, and force open the gates.
I will put a hand to the work myself.
Lysistrata (opening the gate and
walking out): No need to force the gates; I am coming out-here I
am. And why bolts and bars? What we want here is not bolts and bars
and locks, but common sense.
Magistrate (jumping nervously,
then striving manfully to regain his dignity): Really, my fine
lady! Where is my officer? I want him to tie that woman's hands
behind her back.
Lysistrata: By Artemis, the virgin
goddess! if he touches me with the tip of his finger, officer of the
public peace though he be, let him look out for himself! (The
first Scythian relieves himself in terror.)
Magistrate (to another officer):
How now, are you afraid? Seize her, I tell you, round the body. Two
of you at her, and have done with it!
Cleonice: By Pandrosos! if you lay a
hand on her, Ill trample you underfoot till the crap comes out of
you! (The second Scythian relieves himself in terror.)
Magistrate: Look at the mess you've
made! Where is there another officer? (To the third Scythian)
Bind that minx first, the one who speaks so prettily!
Myrrhine: By Phoebe, if you touch
her with one finger, you'd better call quick for a surgeon! (The
third Scythian relieves himself in terror.)
Magistrate: What's that? Where's the
officer? (To the fourth Scythian) Lay hold of her. Oh! but
I'm going to stop your foolishness for you all
Cleonice: By the Tauric Artemis, if
you go near her, I'll pull out your hair, scream as you like. (The
fourth Scythian relieves himself in terror.)
Magistrate: Ah! miserable man that I
am! My own officers desert me. What ho! are we to let ourselves be
bested by a mob of women? Ho! Scythians mine, close up your ranks,
and forward!
Lysistrata: By the holy goddesses!
you'll have to make acquaintance with four companies of women, ready
for the fray and well armed to boot.
Magistrate: Forward, Scythians, and
bind them! (The Scythians advance reluctantly.)
Lysistrata: Forward, my gallant
companions; march forth, ye vendors of grain and eggs, garlic and
vegetables, keepers of taverns and bakeries, wrench and strike and
tear; come, a torrent of invective and insult! (They beat the
Scythians who retire in haste.) Enough, enough now retire, never
rob the vanquished! (The women withdraw.)
Magistrate: How unfortunate for my
officers!
Lysistrata: Ah, ha! so you thought
you had only to do with a set of slave-women! you did not know the
ardour that fills the bosom of free-born dames.
Magistrate: Ardour! yes, by Apollo,
ardour enough-especially for the wine-cup!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Sir, sir what good are words? they are of no avail with wild beasts
of this sort. Don't you know how they have just washed us down-and
with no very fragrant soap!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: What
would you have? You should never have laid rash hands on us. If you
start afresh, I'll knock your eyes out. My delight is to stay at
home as coy as a young maid, without hurting anybody or moving any
more than a milestone; but 'ware the wasps, if you go stirring up
the wasps' nest!
Chorus of Old Men (singing):
Ah! great gods! how get the better of these ferocious creatures?
'tis past all bearing! But come, let us try to find out the reason
of the dreadful scourge. With what end in view have they seized the
citadel of Cranaus, the sacred shrine that is raised upon the
inaccessible rock of the Acropolis?
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men (to
the Magistrate): Question them; be cautious and not too
credulous. It would be culpable negligence not to pierce the
mystery, if we may.
Magistrate (addressing the women):
I would ask you first why you have barred our gates.
Lysistrata: To seize the treasury;
no more money, no more war.
Magistrate: Then money is the cause
of the war?
Lysistrata: And of all our troubles.
It was to find occasion to steal that Pisander and all the other
agitators were forever raising revolutions. Well and good! but
they'll never get another drachma here.
Magistrate: What do you propose to
do then, pray?
Lysistrata: You ask me that! Why, we
propose to administer the treasury ourselves.
Magistrate: You do?
Lysistrata: What is there in that to
surprise you? Do we not administer the budget of household expenses?
Magistrate: But that is not the same
thing.
Lysistrata: How so-not the same
thing?
Magistrate: It is the treasury
supplies the expenses of the war.
Lysistrata: That's our first
principle-no war!
Magistrate: What! and the safety of
the city?
Lysistrata: We will provide for
that.
Magistrate: You?
Lysistrata: Yes, we!
Magistrate: What a sorry business!
Lysistrata: Yes, we're going to save
you, whether you like it or not.
Magistrate: Oh! the impudence of the
creatures!
Lysistrata: You seem annoyed! but it
has to be done, nevertheless.
Magistrate: But it's the very height
of iniquity!
Lysistrata (testily): We're
going to save you, my good man.
Magistrate: But if I don't want to
be saved?
Lysistrata: Why, all the more
reason!
Magistrate: But what a notion, to
concern yourselves with questions of peace and war!
Lysistrata: We will explain our
idea.
Magistrate: Out with it then; quick,
or... (threatening her).
Lysistrata (sternly): Listen,
and never a movement, please!
Magistrate (in impotent rage):
Oh! it is too much for me! I cannot keep my temper!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Then
look out for yourself; you have more to fear than we have.
Magistrate: Stop your croaking, you
old crow! (To Lysistrata) Now you, say what you have to say.
Lysistrata: Willingly. All the long
time the war has lasted, we have endured in modest silence all you
men did; you never allowed us to open our lips. We were far from
satisfied, for we knew how things were going; often in our homes we
would hear you discussing, upside down and inside out, some
important turn of affairs. Then with sad hearts, but smiling lips,
we would ask you: Well, in today's Assembly did they vote
peace?-But, "Mind your own business!" the husband would growl, "Hold
your tongue, please!" And we would say no more.
Cleonice: I would not have held my
tongue though, not I!
Magistrate: You would have been
reduced to silence by blows then.
Lysistrata: Well, for my part, I
would say no more. But presently I would come to know you had
arrived at some fresh decision more fatally foolish than ever. "Ah!
my dear man," I would say, "what madness next!" But he would only
look at me askance and say: "Just weave your web, please; else your
cheeks will smart for hours. War is men's business!"
Magistrate: Bravo! well said indeed!
Lysistrata: How now, wretched man?
not to let us contend against your follies was bad enough! But
presently we heard you asking out loud in the open street: "Is there
never a man left in Athens?" and, "No, not one, not one," you were
assured in reply. Then, then we made up our minds without more delay
to make common cause to save Greece. Open your ears to our wise
counsels and hold your tongues, and we may yet put things on a
better footing.
Magistrate: You put things indeed!
Oh! this is too much! The insolence of the creatures!
Lysistrata: Be still!
Magistrate: May I die a thousand
deaths ere I obey one who wears a veil!
Lysistrata: If that's all that
troubles you, here, take my veil, wrap it round your head, and hold
your tongue.
Cleonice: Then take this basket; put
on a girdle, card wool, munch beans. The war shall be women's
business.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Lay
aside your water-pots, we will guard them, we will help our friends
and companions.
Chorus of Women (singing):
For myself, I will never weary of the dance; my knees will never
grow stiff with fatigue. I will brave everything with my dear
allies, on whom Nature has lavished virtue, grace, boldness,
cleverness, and whose wisely directed energy is going to save the
State.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Oh!
my good, gallant Lysistrata, and all my friends, be ever like a
bundle of nettles; never let your anger slacken; the winds of
fortune blow our way.
Lysistrata: May gentle Love and the
sweet Cyprian Queen shower seductive charms on our breasts and our
thighs. If only we may stir so amorous a feeling among the men that
they stand as firm as sticks, we shall indeed deserve the name of
peace-makers among the Greeks.
Magistrate: How will that be, pray?
Lysistrata: To begin with, we shall
not see you any more running like mad fellows to the Market holding
lance in fist.
Cleonice: That will be something
gained, anyway, by the Paphian goddess, it will!
Lysistrata: Now we see them, mixed
up with saucepans and kitchen stuff, armed to the teeth, looking
like wild Corybantes!
Magistrate: Why, of course; that's
what brave men should do.
Lysistrata: Oh! but what a funny
sight, to behold a man wearing a Gorgon's-bead buckler coming along
to buy fish!
Cleonice: The other day in the
Market I saw a phylarch with flowing ringlets; he was on horseback,
and was pouring into his helmet the broth he had just bought at an
old dame's still. There was a Thracian warrior too, who was
brandishing his lance like Tereus in the play; he had scared a good
woman selling figs into a perfect panic, and was gobbling up all her
ripest fruit-
Magistrate: And how, pray, would you
propose to restore peace and order in all the countries of Greece?
Lysistrata: It's the easiest thing
in the world!
Magistrate: Come, tell us how; I am
curious to know.
Lysistrata: When we are winding
thread, and it is tangled, we pass the spool across and through the
skein, now this way, now that way; even so, to finish of the war, we
shall send embassies hither and thither and everywhere, to
disentangle matters.
Magistrate: And is it with your
yarn, and your skeins, and your spools, you think to appease so many
bitter enmities, you silly women?
Lysistrata: If only you had common
sense, you would always do in politics the same as we do with our
yarn.
Magistrate: Come, how is that, eh?
Lysistrata: First we wash the yarn
to separate the grease and filth; do the same with all bad citizens,
sort them out and drive them forth with rods-they're the refuse of
the city. Then for all such as come crowding up in search of
employments and offices, we must card them thoroughly; then, to
bring them all to the same standard, pitch them pell-mell into the
same basket, resident aliens or no, allies, debtors to the State,
all mixed up together. Then as for our Colonies, you must think of
them as so many isolated hanks; find the ends of the separate
threads, draw them to a centre here, wind them into one, make one
great hank of the lot, out of which the public can weave itself a
good, stout tunic.
Magistrate: Is it not a sin and a
shame to see them carding and winding the State, these women who
have neither art nor part in the burdens of the war?
Lysistrata: What! wretched man! why,
it's a far heavier burden to us than to you. In the first place, we
bear sons who go off to fight far away from Athens.
Magistrate: Enough said! do not
recall sad and sorry memories!
Lysistrata: Then secondly, instead
of enjoying the pleasures of love and making the best of our youth
and beauty, we are left to languish far from our husbands, who are
all with the army. But say no more of ourselves; what afflicts me is
to see our girls growing old in lonely grief.
Magistrate: Don't the men grow old
too?
Lysistrata: That is not the same
thing. When the soldier returns from the wars, even though he has
white hair, he very soon finds a young wife. But a woman has only
one summer; if she does not make hay while the sun shines, no one
will afterwards have anything to say to her, and she spends her days
consulting oracles that never send her a husband.
Magistrate: But the old man who can
still get an erection...
Lysistrata: But you, why don't you
get done with it and die? You are rich; go buy yourself a bier, and
I will knead you a honey-cake for Cerberus. Here, take this garland.
(Drenching him with water.)
Cleonice: And this one too. (Drenching
him with water.)
Myrrhine: And these fillets. (Drenching
him with water.)
Lysistrata: What else do you need?
Step aboard the boat; Charon is waiting for you, you're keeping him
from pushing off.
Magistrate: To treat me so scurvily!
What an insult! I will go show myself to my fellow-magistrates just
as I am.
Lysistrata: What! are you blaming us
for not having exposed you according to custom? Nay, console
yourself; we will not fail to offer up the third-day sacrifice for
you, first thing in the morning. (She goes into the Acropolis,
with Cleonice and Myrrhine.)
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Awake, friends of freedom; let us hold ourselves aye ready to act.
Chorus of Old Men (singing):
I suspect a mighty peril; I foresee another tyranny like Hippias'. I
am sore afraid the Laconians assembled here with Clisthenes have, by
a stratagem of war, stirred up these women, enemies of the gods, to
seize upon our treasury and the funds whereby I lived.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Is
it not a sin and a shame for them to interfere in advising the
citizens, to prate of shields and lances, and to ally themselves
with Laconians, fellows I trust no more than I would so many
famished wolves? The whole thing, my friends, is nothing else but an
attempt to re-establish tyranny. But I will never submit; I will be
on my guard for the future; I will always carry a blade hidden under
myrtle boughs; I will post myself in the public square under arms,
shoulder to shoulder with Aristogiton; and now, to make a start, I
must just break a few of that cursed old jade's teeth yonder.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Nay,
never play the brave man, else when you go back home, your own
mother won't know you. But, dear friends and allies, first let us
lay our burdens down.
Chorus of Women (singing):
Then, citizens all, hear what I have to say. I have useful counsel
to give our city, which deserves it well at my hands for the
brilliant distinctions it has lavished on my girlhood. At seven
years of age, I carried the sacred vessels; at ten, I pounded barley
for the altar of Athene; next, clad in a robe of yellow silk, I
played the bear to Artemis at the Brauronia; presently, when I was
grown up, a tall, handsome maiden, they put a necklace of dried figs
about my neck, and I was one of the Canephori.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: So
surely I am bound to give my best advice to Athens. What matters
that I was born a woman, if I can cure your misfortunes? I pay my
share of tolls and taxes, by giving men to the State. But you, you
miserable greybeards, you contribute nothing to the public charges;
on the contrary, you have wasted the treasure of our forefathers, as
it was called, the treasure amassed in the days of the Persian Wars.
You pay nothing at all in return; and into the bargain you endanger
our lives and liberties by your mistakes. Have you one word to say
for yourselves?... Ah! don't irritate me, you there, or I'll lay my
slipper across your jaws; and it's pretty heavy.
Chorus of Old Men (singing):
Outrage upon outrage! things are going from bad to worse. Let us
punish the minxes, every one of us that has balls to boast of. Come,
off with our tunics, for a man must savour of manhood; come, my
friends, let us strip naked from head to foot. Courage, I say, we
who in our day garrisoned Lipsydrion; let us be young again, and
shake off eld.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: If
we give them the least hold over us, that's the end! their audacity
will know no bounds! We shall see them building ships, and fighting
sea-fights, like Artemisia; and, if they want to mount and ride as
cavalry, we had best cashier the knights, for indeed women excel in
riding, and have a fine. firm seat for the gallop. Just think of all
those squadrons of Amazons Micon has painted for us engaged in
hand-to-hand combat with men. Come then, we must now fit collars to
all these willing necks.
Chorus of Women (singing): By
the blessed goddesses, if you anger me, I will let loose the beast
of my evil passions, and a very hailstorm of blows will set you
yelling for help. Come, dames, off with your tunics, and quick's the
word; women must smell the smell of women in the throes of
passion.... Now just you dare to measure strength with me, old
greybeard, and I warrant you you'll never eat garlic or black beans
any more. No, not a word! my anger is at boiling point, and I'll do
with you what the beetle did with the eagle's eggs.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: I
laugh at your threats, so long as I have on my side Lampito here,
and the noble Theban, my dear Ismenia.... Pass decree on decree, you
can do us no hurt, you wretch abhorred of all your fellows. Why,
only yesterday, on occasion of the feast of Hecate, I asked my
neighbours of Boeotia for one of their daughters for whom my girls
have a lively liking -a fine, fat eel to wit; and if they did not
refuse, all along of your silly decrees! We shall never cease to
suffer the like, till some one gives you a neat trip-up and breaks
your neck for you! (To Lysistrata as she comes out from the
Acropolis) You, Lysistrata, you who are leader of our glorious
enterprise, why do I see you coming towards me with so gloomy an
air?
Lysistrata: It's the behaviour of
these naughty women, it's the female heart and female weakness that
so discourage me.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Tell
us, tell us, what is it?
Lysistrata: I only tell the simple
truth.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: What
has happened so disconcerting? Come, tell your friends.
Lysistrata: Oh! the thing is so hard
to tell-yet so impossible to conceal.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Never
seek to hide any ill that has befallen our cause.
Lysistrata: To blurt it out in a
word-we want laying!
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Oh!
Zeus, oh! Zeus!
Lysistrata: What use calling upon
Zeus? The thing is even as I say. I cannot stop them any longer from
lusting after the men. They are all for deserting. The first I
caught was slipping out by the postern gate near the cave of Pan;
another was letting herself down by a rope and pulley; a third was
busy preparing her escape; while a fourth, perched on a bird's back,
was just taking wing for Orsilochus' house, when I seized her by the
hair. One and all, they are inventing excuses to be off home. (Pointing
to the gate) Look! there goes one, trying to get out! Halloa
there! whither away so fast?
First Woman: I want to go home; I
have some Milesian wool in the house, which is getting all eaten up
by the worms.
Lysistrata: Bah! you and your worms!
go back, I say!
First Woman: I will return
immediately, I swear I will by the two goddesses! I only have just
to spread it out on the bed.
Lysistrata: You shall not do
anything of the kind! I say, you shall not go.
First Woman: Must I leave my wool to
spoil then?
Lysistrata: Yes, if need be.
Second Woman: Unhappy woman that I
am! Alas for my flax! I've left it at home unstript!
Lysistrata: So, here's another
trying to escape to go home and strip her flax!
Second Woman: Oh! I swear by the
goddess of light, the instant I have put it in condition I will come
straight back.
Lysistrata: You shall do nothing of
the kind! If once you began, others would want to follow suit.
Third Woman: Oh! goddess divine,
Ilithyia, patroness of women in labour, stay, stay the birth, till I
have reached a spot less hallowed than Athene's mount!
Lysistrata: What mean you by these
silly tales?
Third Woman: I am going to have a
child-now, this minute!
Lysistrata: But you were not
pregnant yesterday!
Third Woman: Well, I am to-day. Oh!
let me go in search of the midwife, Lysistrata, quick, quick!
Lysistrata: What is this fable you
are telling me? (Feeling her stomach) Ah! what have you got
there so hard?
Third Woman: A male child.
Lysistrata: No, no, by Aphrodite!
nothing of the sort! Why, it feels like something hollow-a pot or a
kettle. (Opening her robe) Oh! you silly creature, if you
have not got the sacred helmet of Pallas-and you said you were with
child!
Third Woman: And so I am, by Zeus, I
am!
Lysistrata: Then why this helmet,
pray?
Third Woman: For fear my pains
should seize me in the Acropolis; I mean to lay my eggs in this
helmet, as the doves do.
Lysistrata: Excuses and pretences
every word! the thing's as clear as daylight. Anyway, you must stay
here now till the fifth day, your day of purification.
Third Woman: I cannot sleep any more
in the Acropolis, now I have seen the snake that guards the temple.
Fourth Woman: Ah! and those awful
owls with their dismal hooting! I cannot get a wink of rest, and I'm
just dying of fatigue.
Lysistrata: You wicked women, have
done with your falsehoods! You want your husbands, that's plain
enough. But don't you think they want you just as badly? They are
spending dreadful nights, oh! I know that well enough. But hold out,
my dears, hold out! A little more patience, and the victory will be
ours. An oracle promises us success, if only we remain united. Shall
I repeat the words?
Third Woman: Yes, tell us what the
oracle declares.
Lysistrata: Silence then!
Now-"Whenas the swallows, fleeing before the hoopoes, shall have all
flocked together in one place, and shall refrain them from all
amorous commerce, then will be the end of all the ills of life; yea,
and Zeus, who doth thunder in the skies, shall set above what was
erst below...."
Third Woman: What! shall the men be
underneath?
Lysistrata: "But if dissension do
arise among the swallows, and they take wing from the holy temple,
it will be said there is never a more wanton bird in all the world."
Third Woman: Ye gods! the prophecy
is clear.
Lysistrata: Nay, never let us be
cast down by calamity! let us be brave to bear, and go back to our
posts. It would be shameful indeed not to trust the promises of the
oracle. (They all go back into the Acropolis.)
Chorus of Old Men (singing):
I want to tell you a fable they used to relate to me when I was a
little boy. This is it: Once upon a time there was a young man
called Melanion, who hated the thought of marriage so sorely that he
fled away to the wilds. So he dwelt in the mountains, wove himself
nets, and caught hares. He never, never came back, he had such a
horror of women. As chaste as Melanion, we loathe the jades just as
much as he did.
An Old Man (beginning a brief
duet with one of the women): You dear old woman, I would fain
kiss you.
Woman: I will set you crying without
onions.
Old Man: And give you a sound
kicking.
Woman (pointing): Ah, ha!
what a dense forest you have there!
Old Man: So was Myronides one of the
bushiest of men of this side; his backside was all black, and he
terrified his enemies as much as Phormio.
Chorus of Women (singing): I
want to tell you a fable too, to match yours about Melanion. Once
there was a certain man called Timon, a tough customer, and a
whimsical, a true son of the Furies, with a face that seemed to
glare out of a thorn-bush. He withdrew from the world because he
couldn't abide bad men, after vomiting a thousand curses at them. He
had a holy horror of ill-conditioned fellows, but he was mighty
tender towards women.
Woman (beginning another duet):
Suppose I up and broke your jaw for you!
Old Man: I am not a bit afraid of
you.
Woman: Suppose I let fly a good kick
at you?
Old Man: I should see your thing
then.
Woman: You would see that, for all
my age, it is very well plucked.
Lysistrata (rushing out of the
Acropolis): Ho there! come quick, come quick!
One of the Women: What is it? Why
these cries?
Lysistrata: A man! a man! I see him
approaching all afire with the flames of love. Oh! divine Queen of
Cyprus, Paphos and Cythera, I pray you still be propitious to our
enterprise.
Woman: Where is he, this unknown
foe?
Lysistrata: Over there-beside the
Temple of Demeter.
Woman: Yes, indeed, I see him; but
who is he?
Lysistrata: Look, look! do any of
you recognize him?
Myrrhine (joyfully): I do, I
do! it's my husband Cinesias.
Lysistrata: To work then! Be it your
task to inflame and torture and torment him. Seductions, caresses,
provocations, refusals, try every means! Grant every favour,-always
excepting what is forbidden by our oath on the wine-bowl.
Myrrhine: Have no fear, I'll do it.
Lysistrata: Well, I shall stay here
to help you cajole the man and set his passions aflame. The rest of
you withdraw.: (Cinesias enters, in obvious and extreme sexual
excitement. A slave follows him carrying an infant.)
Cinesias: Alas! alas! how I am
tortured by spasm and rigid convulsion! Oh! I am racked on the
wheel!
Lysistrata: Who is this that dares
to pass our lines?
Cinesias: It is I.
Lysistrata: What, a man?
Cinesias: Very much so!
Lysistrata: Get out.
Cinesias: But who are you that thus
repulses me?
Lysistrata: The sentinel of the day.
Cinesias: For the gods' sake, call
Myrrhine.
Lysistrata: Call Myrrhine, you say?
And who are you?
Cinesias: I am her husband,
Cinesias, son of Paeon.
Lysistrata: Ah! good day, my dear
friend. Your name is not unknown amongst us. Your wife has it
forever on her lips; and she never touches an egg or an apple
without saying: "This is for Cinesias."
Cinesias: Really and truly?
Lysistrata: Yes, indeed, by
Aphrodite! And if we fall to talking of men, quick your wife
declares: "Oh! all the rest, they're good for nothing compared with
Cinesias."
Cinesias: Oh! please, please go and
call her to me!
Lysistrata: And what will you give
me for my trouble?
Cinesias: Anything I've got, if you
like. (Pointing to the evidence of his condition) I will give
you what I have here!
Lysistrata: Well, well, I will tell
her to come. (She enters the Acropolis.)
Cinesias: Quick, oh! be quick! Life
has no more charms for me since she left my house. I am sad, sad,
when I go indoors; it all seems so empty; my victuals have lost
their savour. And all because of this erection that I can't get rid
of!
Myrrhine (to Lysistrata, over her
shoulder): I love him, oh! I love him; but he won't let himself
be loved. No! I shall not come.
Cinesias: Myrrhine, my little
darling Myrrhine, what are you saying? Come down to me quick.
Myrrhine: No indeed, not I.
Cinesias: I call you, Myrrhine,
Myrrhine; won't you please come?
Myrrhine: Why should you call me?
You do not want me.
Cinesias: Not want you! Why, here I
stand, stiff with desire!
Myrrhine: Good-bye. (She turns,
as if to go.)
Cinesias: Oh! Myrrhine, Myrrhine, in
our child's name, hear me; at any rate hear the child! Little lad,
call your mother.
Child: Mamma, mamma, mamma!
Cinesias: There, listen! Don't you
pity the poor child? It's six days now you've never washed and never
fed the child.
Myrrhine: Poor darling, your father
takes mighty little care of you!
Cinesias: Come down, dearest, come
down for the child's sake.
Myrrhine: Ah! what a thing it is to
be a mother! Well, well, we must come down, I suppose.
Cinesias (as Myrrhine approaches):
Why, how much younger and prettier she looks! And how she looks at
me so lovingly! Her cruelty and scorn only redouble my passion.
Myrrhine (ignoring him; to the
child): You are as sweet as your father is provoking! Let me
kiss you, my treasure, mother's darling!
Cinesias: Ah! what a bad thing it is
to let yourself be led away by other women! Why give me such pain
and suffering, and yourself into the bargain?
Myrrhine (as he is about to
embrace her): Hands off, sir!
Cinesias: Everything is going to
rack and ruin in the house.
Myrrhine: I don't care.
Cinesias: But your web that's all
being pecked to pieces by the cocks and hens, don't you care for
that?
Myrrhine: Precious little.
Cinesias: And Aphrodite, whose
mysteries you have not celebrated for so long? Oh! won't you please
come back home?
Myrrhine: No, least, not till a
sound treaty puts an end to the war.
Cinesias: Well, if you wish it so
much, why, we'll make it, your treaty.
Myrrhine: Well and good! When that's
done, I will come home. Till then, I am bound by an oath.
Cinesias: At any rate, lie with me
for a little while.
Myrrhine: No, no, no! (she
hesitates) but just the same I can't say I don't love you.
Cinesias: You love me? Then why
refuse to lie with me, my little girl, my sweet Myrrhine?
Myrrhine (pretending to be
shocked): You must be joking! What, before the child!
Cinesias (to the slave):
Manes, carry the lad home. There, you see, the child is gone;
there's nothing to hinder us; won't you lie down now?
Myrrhine: But, miserable man, where,
where?
Cinesias: In the cave of Pan;
nothing could be better.
Myrrhine: But how shall I purify
myself before going back into the citadel?
Cinesias: Nothing easier! you can
wash at the Clepsydra.
Myrrhine: But my oath? Do you want
me to perjure myself?
Cinesias: I'll take all
responsibility; don't worry.
Myrrhine: Well, I'll be off, then,
and find a bed for us.
Cinesias: There's no point in that;
surely we can lie on the ground.
Myrrhine: No, no! even though you
are bad, I don't like your lying on the bare earth. (She goes
back into the Acropolis.)
Cinesias (enraptured): Ah!
how the dear girl loves me!
Myrrhine (coming back with a cot):
Come, get to bed quick; I am going to undress. But, oh dear, we must
get a mattress.
Cinesias: A mattress? Oh! no, never
mind about that!
Myrrhine: No, by Artemis! lie on the
bare sacking? never! That would be squalid.
Cinesias: Kiss me!
Myrrhine: Wait a minute! (She
leaves him again.)
Cinesias: Good god, hurry up
Myrrhine (coming back with a
mattress): Here is a mattress. Lie down, I am just going to
undress. But you've got no pillow.
Cinesias: I don't want one either!
Myrrhine: But I do. (She leaves
him again.)
Cinesias: Oh god, oh god, she treats
my tool just like Heracles!
Myrrhine (coming back with a
pillow): There, lift your head, dear! (Wondering what else to
tantalize him with; to herself) Is that all, I wonder?
Cinesias (misunderstanding):
Surely. there's nothing else. Come, my treasure.
Myrrhine: I am just unfastening my
girdle. But remember what you promised me about making peace; mind
you keep your word.
Cinesias: Yes, yes, upon my life I
will.
Myrrhine: Why, you have no blanket!
Cinesias: My god, what difference
does that make? What I want is to make love!
Myrrhine (going out again):
Never fear-directly, directly! I'll be back in no time.
Cinesias: The woman will kill me
with her blankets!
Myrrhine (coming back with a
blanket): Now, get yourself up.
Cinesias (pointing): I've got
this up!
Myrrhine: Wouldn't you like me to
scent you?
Cinesias: No, by Apollo, no, please
don't!
Myrrhine: Yes, by Aphrodite, but I
will, whether you like it or not.(She goes out again.)
Cinesias: God, I wish she'd hurry up
and get through with all this!
Myrrhine (coming back with a
flask of perfume): Hold out your hand; now rub it in.
Cinesias: Oh! in Apollo's name, I
don't much like the smell of it; but perhaps it will improve when
it's well rubbed in. It does not somehow smack of the marriage bed!
Myrrhine: Oh dear! what a
scatterbrain I am; if I haven't gone and brought Rhodian perfumes!
Cinesias: Never mind, dearest, let
it go now.
Myrrhine: You don't really mean
that. (She goes.)
Cinesias: Damn the man who invented
perfumes!
Myrrhine (coming back with
another flask): Here, take this bottle.
Cinesias: I have a better one
allready for you, darling. Come, you provoking creature, to bed with
you, and don't bring another thing.
Myrrhine: Coming, coming; I'm just
slipping off my shoes. Dear boy, will you vote for peace?
Cinesias: I'll think about it. (Myrrhine
runs away.) I'm a dead man, she is killing me! She has gone, and
left me in torment! (in tragic style) I must have someone to
lay, I must! Ah me! the loveliest of women has choused and cheated
me. Poor little lad, how am I to give you what you want so badly?
Where is Cynalopex? quick, man, get him a nurse, do!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Poor, miserable wretch, baulked in your amorousness! what tortures
are yours! Ah! you fill me with pity. Could any man's back and loins
stand such a strain. He stands stiff and rigid, and there's never a
wench to help him!
Cinesias: Ye gods in heaven, what
pains I suffer!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Well, there it is; it's her doing, that abandoned hussy!
Cinesias: No, no! rather say that
sweetest, dearest darling.(He departs.)
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
That dearest darling? no, no, that hussy, say I! Zeus, thou god of
the skies, canst not let loose a hurricane, to sweep them all up
into the air, and whirl them round, then drop them down crash! and
impale them on the point of this man's tool!: (A Spartan Herald
enters; he shows signs of being in the same condition as Cinesias.)
Herald: Say, where shall I find the
Senate and the Prytanes? I am bearer of despatches. (An Athenian
Magistrate enters.)
Magistrate: Are you a man or a
Priapus?
Herald (with an effort at
officiousness): Don't be stupid! I am a herald, of course, I
swear I am, and I come from Sparta about making peace.
Magistrate (pointing): But
look, you are hiding a lance under your clothes, surely.
Herald (embarrassed): No,
nothing of the sort.
Magistrate: Then why do you turn
away like that, and hold your cloak out from your body? Have you got
swellings in the groin from your journey?
Herald: By the twin brethren! the
man's an old maniac.
Magistrate: But you've got an
erection! You lewd fellow!
Herald: I tell you no! but enough of
this foolery.
Magistrate (pointing): Well,
what is it you have there then?
Herald: A Lacedaemonian 'skytale.'
Magistrate: Oh, indeed, a 'skytale,'
is it? Well, well, speak out frankly; I know all about these
matters. How are things going at Sparta now?
Herald: Why, everything is turned
upside down at Sparta; and all the allies have erections. We simply
must have Pellene.
Magistrate: What is the reason of it
all? Is it the god Pan's doing?
Herald: No, it's all the work of
Lampito and the women who are acting at her instigation; they have
kicked the men out from between their thighs.
Magistrate: But what are you doing
about it?
Herald: We are at our wits' end; we
walk bent double, just as if we were carrying lanterns in a wind.
The jades have sworn we shall not so much as touch them till we have
all agreed to conclude peace.
Magistrate: Ah! I see now, it's a
general conspiracy embracing all Greece. Go back to Sparta and bid
them send envoys plenipotentiary to treat for peace. I will urge our
Senators myself to name plenipotentiaries from us; and to persuade
them, why, I will show them my own tool.
Herald: What could be better? I fly
at your command.(They go out in opposite directions.)
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: No
wild beast is there, no flame of fire, more fierce and untamable
than woman; the leopard is less savage and shameless.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: And
yet you dare to make war upon me, wretch, when you might have me for
your most faithful friend and ally.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Never, never can my hatred cease towards women.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Well,
suit yourself. Still I cannot bear to leave you all naked as you
are; folks would laugh at you. Come, I am going to put this tunic on
you.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: You
are right, upon my word! it was only in my confounded fit of rage
that I took it off.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Now
at any rate you look like a man, and they won't make fun of you. Ah!
if you had not offended me so badly, I would take out that nasty
insect you have in your eye for you.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Ah!
so that's what was annoying me so Look, here's a ring, just remove
the insect, and show it to me. By Zeus! it has been hurting my eye
for a long time now.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Well,
I agree, though your manners are not over and above pleasant. Oh I
what a huge great gnat! just look! It's from Tricorythus, for sure.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: A
thousand thanks! the creature was digging a regular well in my eye;
now that it's gone, my tears can flow freely.
Leader of the Chorus of Women: I
will wipe them for you-bad, naughty man though you are. Now, just
one kiss.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: A
kiss? certainly not
Leader of the Chorus of Women: Just
one, whether you like it or not.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Oh!
those confounded women! how they do cajole us! How true the saying:
" 'Tis impossible to live with the baggages, impossible to live
without 'em!" Come, let us agree for the future not to regard each
other any more as enemies; and to clinch the bargain, let us sing a
choric song.
Combined Chorus of Women and Old Men
(singing): We desire, Athenians, to speak ill of no man; but
on the contrary to say much good of everyone, and to do the like. We
have had enough of misfortunes and calamities. If there is any man
or woman who wants a bit of money-two or three minas or so; well,
our purse is full. If only peace is concluded, the borrower will not
have to pay back. Also I'm inviting to supper a few Carystian
friends, who are excellently well qualified. I have still a drop of
good soup left, and a young porker I'm going to kill, and the flesh
will be sweet and tender. I shall expect you at my house to-day; but
first away to the baths with you, you and your children; then come
all of you, ask no one's leave, but walk straight up, as if you were
at home; never fear, the door will be... shut in your faces!
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Ah!
here come the envoys from Sparta with their long flowing beards;
why, you would think they wore pigstyes between their thighs. (Enter
the Laconian Envoys afflicted like their herald.) Hail to you,
first of all, Laconians; then tell us how you fare.
Laconian Envoy: No need for many
words; you can see what a state we are in.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Alas! the situation grows more and more strained! the intensity of
the thing is simply frightful.
Laconian Envoy: It's beyond belief.
But to work! summon your Commissioners, and let us patch up the best
peace we may.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men: Ah!
our men too, like wrestlers in the arena, cannot endure a rag over
their bellies; it's an athlete's malady, which only exercise can
remedy.: (The Magistrate returns; he too now has an evident
reason to desire peace.)
Magistrate: Can anybody tell us
where Lysistrata is? Surely she will have some compassion on our
condition.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men (pointing):
Look! now he has the very same complaint. (To the Magistrate)
Don't you feel a strong nervous tension in the morning?
Magistrate: Yes, and a dreadful,
dreadful torture it is! Unless peace is made very soon, we shall
find no recourse but to make love to Clisthenes.
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Take my advice, and arrange your clothes as best you can; one of the
fellows who mutilated the Hermae might see you.
Magistrate: Right, by Zeus.: (He
endeavours, not too successfully, to conceal his condition.)
Laconian Envoy: Quite right, by the
Dioscuri. There, I will put on my tunic.
Magistrate: Oh! what a terrible
state we are in! Greeting to you, Laconian fellow-sufferers.
Laconian Envoy (addressing one of
his countrymen): Ah! my boy, what a terrible thing it would have
been if these fellows had seen us just now when we were on full
stand!
Magistrate: Speak out, Laconians,
what is it brings you here?
Laconian Envoy: We have come to
treat for peace.
Magistrate: Well said; we are of the
same mind. Better call Lysistrata, then; she is the only person will
bring us to terms.
Laconian Envoy: Yes, yes-and
Lysistratus into the bargain, if you will.
Magistrate: Needless to call her;
she has heard your voices, and here she comes.(She comes out of
the Acropolis.)
Leader of the Chorus of Old Men:
Hail, boldest and bravest of womankind! The time is come to show
yourself in turn uncompromising and conciliatory, exacting and
yielding, haughty and condescending. Call up all your skill and
artfulness. Lo! the foremost men in Hellas, seduced by your
fascinations, are agreed to entrust you with the task of ending
their quarrels.
Lysistrata: It will be an easy
task-if only they refrain from mutual indulgence in masculine love;
if they do, I shall know the fact at once. Now, where is the gentle
goddess Peace? (The goddess, in the form of a beautiful nude girl
is brought in by the Machine.) Lead hither the Laconian envoys.
But, look you, no roughness or violence; our husbands always behaved
so boorishly. Bring them to me with smiles, as women should. If any
refuse to give you his hand, then take hold of his tool. Bring up
the Athenians too; you may lead them either way. Laconians,
approach; and you, Athenians, on my other side. Now hearken all! I
am but a woman; but I have good common sense; Nature has endowed me
with discriminating judgment, which I have yet further developed,
thanks to the wise teachings of my father and the elders of the
city. First I must bring a reproach against you that applies equally
to both sides. At Olympia, and Thermopylae, and Delphi, and a score
of other places too numerous to mention, you celebrate before the
same altars ceremonies common to all Hellenes; yet you go cutting
each other's throats, and sacking Hellenic cities, when all the
while the barbarian yonder is threatening you! That is my first
point.
Magistrate (devouring the goddess
with his eyes): Good god, this erection is killing me!
Lysistrata: Now it is to you I
address myself, Laconians. Have you forgotten how Periclidas, your
own countryman, sat a suppliant before our altars? How pale he was
in his purple robes! He had come to crave an army of us; it was the
time when Messenia was pressing you sore, and the Sea-god was
shaking the earth. Cimon marched to your aid at the head of four
thousand hoplites, and saved Lacedaemon. And, after such a service
as that, you ravage the soil of your benefactors!
Magistrate: They do wrong, very
wrong, Lysistrata.
Laconian Envoy: We do wrong, very
wrong. (Looking at the goddess) Ah! great gods! what a lovely
bottom Peace has!
Lysistrata: And now a word to the
Athenians. Have you no memory left of how, in the days when you wore
the tunic of slaves, the Laconians came, spear in hand, and slew a
host of Thessalians and partisans of Hippias the tyrant? They, and
they only, fought on your side on that eventful day; they delivered
you from despotism, and thanks to them our nation could change the
short tunic of the slave for the long cloak of the free man.
Laconian Envoy (looking at
Lysistrata): I have never see a woman of more gracious dignity.
Magistrate (looking at Peace):
I have never seen a woman with a finer body!
Lysistrata: Bound by such ties of
mutual kindness, how can you bear to be at war? Stop, stay the
hateful strife, be reconciled; what hinders you?
Laconian Envoy: We are quite ready,
if they will give us back our rampart.
Lysistrata: What rampart, my dear
man?
Laconian Envoy: Pylos, which we have
been asking for and craving for ever so long.
Magistrate: In the Sea-god's name,
you shall never have it!
Lysistrata: Agree, my friends,
agree.
Magistrate: But then what city shall
we be able to stir up trouble in?
Lysistrata: Ask for another place in
exchange.
Magistrate: Ah! that's the ticket!
Well, to begin with, give us Echinus, the Maliac gulf adjoining, and
the two legs of Megara.
Laconian Envoy: No, by the Dioscuri,
surely not all that, my dear sir.
Lysistrata: Come to terms; never
make a difficulty of two legs more or less!
Magistrate (his eye on Peace):
Well, I'm ready to strip down and get to work right now. (He
takes off his mantle.)
Laconian Envoy (following out
this idea): And I also, to dung it to start with.
Lysistrata: That's just what you
shall do, once peace is signed. So, if you really want to make it,
go consult your allies about the matter.
Magistrate: What allies, I should
like to know? Why, we are all erected; there's no one who is not mad
to be mating. What we all want is to be in bed with our wives; how
should our allies fail to second our project?
Laconian Envoy: And ours too, for
certain sure!
Magistrate: The Carystians first and
foremost by the gods!
Lysistrata: Well said, indeed! Now
go and purify yourselves for entering the Acropolis, where the women
invite you to supper; we will empty our provision baskets to do you
honour. At table, you will exchange oaths and pledges; then each man
will go home with his wife.
Magistrate: Come along then, and as
quick as may be.
Laconian Envoy: Lead on; I'm your
man.
Magistrate: Quick, quick's the word,
say I. (They follow Lysistrata into the Acropolis.)
Chorus of Women (singing):
Embroidered stuffs, and dainty tunics, and flowing gowns, and golden
ornaments, everything I have, I offer them to you with all my heart;
take them all for your children, for your girls, in case they are
chosen Canephori. I invite you every one to enter, come in and
choose whatever you will; there is nothing so well fastened, you
cannot break the seals, and carry away the contents. Look about you
everywhere. . . you won't find a blessed thing, unless you have
sharper eyes than mine. And if any of you lacks corn to feed his
slaves and his young and numerous family, why, I have a few grains
of wheat at home; let him take what I have to give, a big
twelve-pound loaf included. So let my poorer neighbours all come
with bags and wallets; my man, Manes, shall give them corn; but I
warn them not to come near my door, but-beware the dog!(Another
Magistrate enters, and begins knocking at the gate.)
Second Magistrate: I say, you, open
the door! (To the WOMEN) Go your way, I tell you. (As the
women sit down in front of the gate) Why, bless me, they're
sitting down now; I shall have to singe 'em with my torch to make
'em stir! What impudence! I won't take this. Oh, well, if it's
absolutely necessary, just to please you, we'll have to take the
trouble.
An Athenian: And I'll share it with
you. (He brandishes the torch he is carrying and the CHORUS OF
WOMEN departs. The CHORUS OF OLD MEN follows shortly after.)
Second Magistrate: No, no, you must
be off-or I'll tear your hair out, I will; be off, I say, and don't
annoy the Laconian envoys; they're just coming out from the
banquet-ball.
Athenian: Such a merry banquet I've
never seen before! The Laconians were simply charming. After the
drink is in, why, we're all wise men, every one of us.
Magistrate: It's only natural, to be
sure, for sober, we're all fools. Take my advice, my
fellow-countrymen, our envoys should always be drunk. We go to
Sparta; we enter the city sober; why, we must be picking a quarrel
directly. We don't understand what they say to us, we imagine a lot
they don't say at all, and we report home all wrong, all topsy-urvy.
But, look you, to-day it's quite different; we're enchanted whatever
happens; instead of Clitagora, they might sing us Telamon, and we
should clap our hands just the same. A perjury or two into the
bargain, why! What does that matter to merry companions in their
cups? (The two CHORUSES return.) But here they are back
again! Will you begone, you loafing scoundrels. (The CHORUSES
retire again.)
Athenian: Ah ha! here's the company
coming out already. (Two choruses, one Laconian and one Athenian,
enter, dancing to the music of flutes; they are followed by the
women under the leadership of Lysistrata.)
A Laconian: My dear, sweet friend,
come, take your flute in hand; I would fain dance and sing my best
in honour of the Athenians and our noble selves.
Athenian: Yes, take your flute, in
the gods'name. What a delight to see him dance!
Laconian (dancing and singing):
Oh! Mnemosyne! inspire these men, inspire my muse who knows our
exploits and those of the Athenians. With what a god-like ardour did
they swoop down at Artemisium on the ships of the Medes! What a
glorious victory was that! For the soldiers of Leonidas, they were
like fierce boars whetting their tusks. The sweat ran down their
faces, and drenched all their limbs, for verily the Persians were as
many as the sands of the seashore. Oh! Artemis, huntress queen,
whose arrows pierce the denizens of the woods, virgin goddess, be
thou favourable to the peace we here conclude; through thee may our
hearts be long united! May this treaty draw close for ever the bonds
of a happy friendship! No more wiles and stratagems! Aid us, oh! aid
us, maiden huntress!
Magistrate: All is for the best; and
now, Laconians, take your wives away home with you, and you,
Athenians, yours. May husband live happily with wife, and wife with
husband. Dance, dance, to celebrate our bliss, and let us be heedful
to avoid like mistakes for the future.
Chorus of Athenians (singing):
Appear, appear, dancers, and the Graces with you! Let us invoke, one
and all, Artemis, and her heavenly brother, gracious Apollo, patron
of the dance, and Dionysus, whose eye darts flame, as he steps
forward surrounded by the Maenad maids, and Zeus, who wields the
flashing lightning, and his august, thrice-blessed spouse, the Queen
of Heaven! These let us invoke, and all the other gods, calling all
the inhabitants of the skies to witness the noble Peace now
concluded under the fond auspices of Aphrodite. Io Paean! Io Paean!
dance, leap, as in honour of a victory won. Euoi! Euoi!
Euai! Euai!
Magistrate: And you, our Laconian
guests, sing us a new and inspiring strain!