Author: Aristophanes
Written: 411 BCE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
LYSISTRATA.
CALONICÉ.
MYRRHINÉ.
LAMPITO.
STRATYLLIS.
A MAGISTRATE.
CINESIAS.
A CHILD.
HERALD OF THE LACEDAEMONIANS.
ENVOYS OF THE LACEDAEMONIANS.
POLYCHARIDES.
MARKET LOUNGERS.
A SERVANT.
AN ATHENIAN CITIZEN.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN.
CHORUS OF WOMEN.
SCENE: In a public square at Athens; afterwards before the gates of the
Acropolis, and finally within the precincts of the citadel.
LYSISTRATA (_alone_). Ah! if only they had been invited to a Bacchic
revelling, or a feast of Pan or Aphrodité or Genetyllis, why! the
streets would have been impassable for the thronging tambourines! Now
there's never a woman here-ah! except my neighbour Calonicé, whom I see
approaching yonder.... Good day, Calonicé.
CALONICÉ. 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! Calonicé, my heart is on fire; I blush for our sex. Men
_will_ have it we are tricky and sly....
CALONICÉ. And they are quite right, upon my word!
LYSISTRATA. Yet, look you, when the women are summoned to meet for a
matter of the last importance, they lie abed instead of coming.
CALONICÉ. Oh! they will come, my dear; but 'tis 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.
CALONICÉ. And why _do_ you summon us, dear Lysistrata? What is it all
about?
LYSISTRATA. About a big affair.
CALONICÉ. And is it thick too?
LYSISTRATA. Yes indeed, both big and great.
CALONICÉ. And we are not all on the spot!
LYSISTRATA. 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 of many sleepless nights.
CALONICÉ. 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!
CALONICÉ. By 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....
CALONICÉ. That would be a noble deed truly!
LYSISTRATA. To exterminate the Boeotians to a man!
CALONICÉ. 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.
CALONICÉ. 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. Nay, but those are the very sheet-anchors of our
salvation--those yellow tunics, those scents and slippers, those
cosmetics and transparent robes.
CALONICÉ. How so, pray?
LYSISTRATA. There is not a man will wield a lance against another ...
CALONICÉ. Quick, I will get me a yellow tunic from the dyer's.
LYSISTRATA. ... or want a shield.
CALONICÉ. I'll run and put on a flowing gown.
LYSISTRATA. ... or draw a sword.
CALONICÉ. I'll haste and buy a pair of slippers this instant.
LYSISTRATA. Now tell me, would not the women have done best to come?
CALONICÉ. 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
shoreward parts, not one from Salamis.
CALONICÉ. 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.
CALONICÉ. Theagenes wife at any rate is sure to come; she has
actually been to consult Hecaté.... But look! here are some arrivals--and
there are more behind. Ah! ha! now what countrywomen may they be?
LYSISTRATA. They are from Anagyra.
CALONICÉ. Yes! upon my word, 'tis a levy _en masse_ of all the female
population of Anagyra!
MYRRHINÉ. Are we late, Lysistrata? Tell us, pray; what, not a word?
LYSISTRATA. I cannot say much for you, Myrrhiné! you have not bestirred
yourself overmuch for an affair of such urgency.
MYRRHINÉ I could not find my girdle in the dark. However, if the matter
is so pressing, here we are; so speak.
LYSISTRATA. No, but let us wait a moment more, till the women of Boeotia
arrive and those from the Peloponnese.
MYRRHINÉ Yes, that is best.... Ah! here comes Lampito.
LYSISTRATA. 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. 'Tis because I do
gymnastics and practise the kick dance.
LYSISTRATA. And what superb bosoms!
LAMPITO. La! you are feeling me as if I were a beast for sacrifice.
LYSISTRATA. And this young woman, what countrywoman is she?
LAMPITO. She is a noble lady from Boeotia.
LYSISTRATA. Ah! my pretty Boeotian friend, you are as blooming as a
garden.
CALONICÉ. Yes, on my word! and the garden is so prettily weeded too!
LYSISTRATA. And who is this?
LAMPITO. 'Tis an honest woman, by my faith! she comes from Corinth.
LYSISTRATA. 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.
LYSISTRATA. With pleasure, my dear.
MYRRHINÉ. What is the most important business you wish to inform us
about?
LYSISTRATA. I will tell you. But first answer me one question.
MYRRHINÉ. What is that?
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 undertake, there
is not one of you whose husband is not abroad at this moment.
CALONICÉ. Mine has been the last five months in Thrace--looking after
Eucrates.
LYSISTRATA. 'Tis seven long months since mine left me for Pylos.
LAMPITO. As for mine, if he ever does return from service, he's no sooner
back 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-long
_godemiche_ 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?
MYRRHINÉ. 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.
CALONICÉ. 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....
MYRRHINÉ. Refrain from what? tell us, tell us!
LYSISTRATA. But will you do it?
MYRRHINÉ. We will, we will, though we should die of it.
LYSISTRATA. We must refrain from the male organ 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?
MYRRHINÉ. No, I will not do it; let the War go on.
LYSISTRATA. And you, my pretty flat-fish, who declared just now they
might split you in two?
CALONICÉ. 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, my dear, dear
Lysistrata!
LYSISTRATA. And you?
MYRRHINÉ. 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 conjure you.
LAMPITO. 'Tis a hard thing, by the two goddesses it is! for a woman
to sleep alone without ever a standing weapon in her bed. But there,
Peace must come first.
LYSISTRATA. Oh, my dear, my dearest, best friend, you are the only one
deserving the name of woman!
CALONICÉ. 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 with our "mottes" nicely
plucked smooth; then their tools will stand like mad and they will 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.
CALONICÉ. But, poor devils, suppose our husbands go away and leave us.
LYSISTRATA. Then, as Pherecrates says, we must "flay a skinned dog,"
that's all.
CALONICÉ. Bah! 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.
CALONICÉ. But if they beat us?
LYSISTRATA. Then yield to their wishes, but with a bad grace; there is no
pleasure 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.
CALONICÉ. Very well, if you _will_ 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 hear
reason.
LAMPITO. Nay, impossible, so long as they have their trusty ships and the
vast treasures stored in the temple of Athené.
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! so 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 Usheress? 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.
CALONICÉ. 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.
CALONICÉ. No, Lysistrata, one cannot swear peace over a buckler, surely.
LYSISTRATA. What other oath do you prefer?
CALONICÉ. Let's take a white horse, and sacrifice it, and swear on its
entrails.
LYSISTRATA. But where get a white horse from?
CALONICÉ. 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.
CALONICÉ. Ah! my dears, what a noble big bowl! what a delight 'twill 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!
CALONICÉ. Oh! the fine red blood! how well it flows!
LAMPITO. And what a delicious savour, by the goddesses twain!
LYSISTRATA. Now, my dears, let me swear first, if you please.
CALONICÉ. No, by the goddess of love, let us decide that by lot.
LYSISTRATA. Come then, Lampito, and all of you, put your hands to the
bowl; and do you, Calonicé, repeat in the name of all 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...._"
CALONICÉ. _I will have naught to do whether with lover or husband...._
LYSISTRATA. _Albeit he come to me with stiff and standing tool...._
CALONICÉ. _Albeit he come to me with stiff and standing tool...._ Oh!
Lysistrata, I cannot bear it!
LYSISTRATA. _I will live at home in perfect chastity...._
CALONICÉ. _I will live at home in perfect chastity...._
LYSISTRATA. _Beautifully dressed and wearing a saffron-coloured gown...._
CALONICÉ. _Beautifully dressed and wearing a saffron-coloured gown...._
LYSISTRATA. _To the end I may inspire my husband with the most ardent
longings._
CALONICÉ. _To the end I may inspire my husband with the most ardent
longings._
LYSISTRATA. _Never will I give myself voluntarily...._
CALONICÉ. _Never will I give myself voluntarily...._
LYSISTRATA. _And if he has me by force...._
CALONICÉ. _And if he has me by force...._
LYSISTRATA. _I will be cold as ice, and never stir a limb...._
CALONICÉ. _I will be cold as ice, and never stir a limb...._
LYSISTRATA. _I will not lift my legs in air...._
CALONICÉ. _I will not lift my legs in air...._
LYSISTRATA. _Nor will I crouch with bottom upraised, like carven lions on
a knife-handle_.
CALONICÉ. _Nor will I crouch with bottom upraised, like carven lions on a
knife-handle_.
LYSISTRATA. _An if I keep my oath, may I be suffered to drink of this
wine._
CALONICÉ. _An 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_.
CALONICÉ. _But if I break it, let my bowl be filled with water_.
LYSISTRATA. Will ye all take this oath?
MYRRHINÉ. Yes, yes!
LYSISTRATA. Then lo! I immolate the victim. (_She drinks._)
CALONICÉ. Enough, enough, my dear; now let us all drink in turn to cement
our friendship.
LAMPITO. Hark! what do those cries mean?
LYSISTRATA. 'Tis what I was telling you; the women have just occupied the
Acropolis. So now, Lampito, do you return to Sparta to organize the plot,
while your comrades here remain as hostages. For ourselves, let us away
to join the rest in the citadel, and let us push the bolts well home.
CALONICÉ. 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.
CALONICÉ. Yes, yes, by the goddess of love! let us keep up our old-time
repute for obstinacy and spite.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Go easy, Draces, go easy; why, your shoulder is
all chafed by these plaguey heavy olive stocks. But forward still,
forward, man, as needs must. 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! Come, Philurgus man, let's hurry thither; let's lay our
faggots all about the citadel, and on the blazing pile burn with our
hands these vile conspiratresses, one and all--and Lycon's wife,
Lysistrata, first and foremost! Nay, by Demeter, never will I let 'em
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! 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. But look ye, to finish our
toilsome climb, we have only this last steep bit left to mount. Verily
'tis no easy job without beasts of burden, and how these logs do bruise
my shoulder! Still let us on, and blow up our fire and see it does not go
out just as we reach our destination. Phew! phew! (_blows the fire_). Oh!
dear! what a dreadful smoke! it bites my eyes like a mad dog. It is
Lemnos 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! (_blows the fire_). Oh! dear! what a confounded
smoke!--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 'em. Ye
gods! what a smoke! Pfaugh! Is there never a Samos general will help me
unload my burden?--Ah! it shall not gall my shoulder any more.
(_Tosses down his 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!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Oh! my dears, methinks I see fire and smoke; can it
be a conflagration? Let us hurry all we can. Fly, fly, Nicodicé, ere
Calycé and Crityllé 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. News has been brought us that a company of old, doddering
greybeards, loaded with enormous faggots, 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, Athené, and if any man hurl against them lighted
firebrands, aid us to carry water to extinguish them.
STRATYLLIS. Let me be, I say. Oh! oh! (_She calls for help._)
CHORUS OF WOMEN. What is this I see, ye wretched old men? Honest and
pious folk ye cannot be who act so vilely.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Ah, ha! here's something new! a swarm of women stand
posted outside to defend the gates!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Ah! ah! we frighten you, do we; we seem a mighty host,
yet you do not see the ten-thousandth part of our sex.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Ho, Phaedrias! shall we stop their cackle? Suppose one
of us were to break a stick across their backs, eh?
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.
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.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Come on then; I wait you with unflinching foot, and I
will snap off your testicles like a bitch.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Silence! ere my stick has cut short your days.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Now, just you dare to touch Stratyllis with the tip of
your finger!
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. And if I batter you to pieces with my fists, what will
you do?
CHORUS OF WOMEN. I will tear out your lungs and entrails with my teeth.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Oh! what a clever poet is Euripides! how well he says
that woman is the most shameless of animals.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Let's pick up our water-jars again, Rhodippé.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Ah! accursed harlot, what do you mean to do here with
your water?
CHORUS OF WOMEN. And you, old death-in-life, with your fire? Is it to
cremate yourself?
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. I am going to build you a pyre to roast your female
friends upon.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. And I,--I am going to put out your fire.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. You put out my fire--you!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Yes, you shall soon see.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. I don't know what prevents me from roasting you with
this torch.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. I am getting you a bath ready to clean off the filth.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. A bath for me, you dirty slut, you!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Yes, indeed, a nuptial bath--he, he!
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Do you hear that? What insolence!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. I am a free woman, I tell you.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. I will make you hold your tongue, never fear!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Ah, ha! you shall never sit more amongst the
heliasts.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Burn off her hair for her!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Water, do your office! (_The women pitch the water in
their water-pots over the old men._)
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Was it hot?
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Hot, great gods! Enough, enough!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. I'm watering you, to make you bloom afresh.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Alas! I am too dry! Ah, me! how I am trembling with
cold!
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,
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 lo!
his wife, more than half drunk, was screaming on the house-roof: "Weep,
weep for Adonis!"--while that infamous _Mad Ox_ was bellowing away
on his side.--Do ye not blush, ye women, for your wild and uproarious
doings?
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 'tis well done too, by Poseidon! 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, t'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 a 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 'em, and lo! the
women clap to 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! (_addressing one of his attendant officers_) what
are you gaping at the crows about? looking for a tavern, I suppose, eh?
Come, crowbars here, and force open the gates. I will put a hand to the
work myself.
LYSISTRATA. 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. 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!
MAGISTRATE (_to the officer_). How now, are you afraid? Seize her, I tell
you, round the body. Two of you at her, and have done with it!
FIRST WOMAN. By Pandrosos! if you lay a hand on her, I'll trample you
underfoot till you shit your guts!
MAGISTRATE. Oh, there! my guts! Where is my other officer? Bind that minx
first, who speaks so prettily!
SECOND WOMAN. By Phoebé, if you touch her with one finger, you'd better
call quick for a surgeon!
MAGISTRATE. What do you mean? Officer, where are you got to? Lay hold of
her. Oh! but I'm going to stop your foolishness for you all!
THIRD WOMAN. By the Tauric Artemis, if you go near her, I'll pull out
your hair, scream as you like.
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!
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 officers._) Enough, enough! now retire, never rob the
vanquished!
MAGISTRATE. Here's a fine exploit 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!
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Sir, sir! what use of 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!
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. 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? Question them; be cautious and not
too credulous. 'Twould be culpable negligence not to pierce the mystery,
if we may.
MAGISTRATE (_addressing the women_). I would ask you first why ye 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. 'Twas to find occasion to steal that
Pisander and all the other agitators were for ever 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, just we.
MAGISTRATE. What a sorry business!
LYSISTRATA. Yes, we're going to save you, whether you will or no.
MAGISTRATE. Oh! the impudence of the creatures!
LYSISTRATA. You seem annoyed! but there, you've got to come to it.
MAGISTRATE. But 'tis the very height of iniquity!
LYSISTRATA. We're going to save you, my 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. Listen, and never a movement, please!
MAGISTRATE. Oh! it is too much for me! I cannot keep my temper!
A WOMAN. Then look out for yourself; you have more to fear than we have.
MAGISTRATE. Stop your croaking, old crow, you! (_To Lysistrata._) Now
you, say your say.
LYSISTRATA. Willingly. All the long time the War has lasted, we have
endured in modest silence all you men did; we never allowed ourselves 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 to-day's Assembly did they vote
Peace?--But, "Mind your own business!" the husband would growl, "Hold
your tongue, do!" And I would say no more.
A WOMAN. 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, do; 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! 'tis too much! The insolence of
the creatures! Silence, I say.
LYSISTRATA. Silence yourself!
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. Then take this basket; put on a
girdle, card wool, munch beans. The War shall be women's business.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Lay aside your water-pots, we will guard them, we will
help our friends and companions. 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. 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 bosoms and all our person. If only we may stir so amorous a
lust among the men that their tools stand stiff 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.
A WOMAN. That will be something gained, anyway, by the Paphian goddess,
it will!
LYSISTRATA. Now we see 'em, mixed up with saucepans and kitchen stuff,
armed to the teeth, looking like wild Corybantes!
MAGISTRATE. Why, of course; that's how brave men should do.
LYSISTRATA. Oh! but what a funny sight, to behold a man wearing a
Gorgon's-head buckler coming along to buy fish!
A WOMAN. 'Tother day in the Market I saw a phylarch with flowing
ringlets; he was a-horseback, and was pouring into his helmet the broth
he had just bought at an old dame's stall. 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. 'Tis 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 off the War, we shall send embassies hither and thither and
everywhere, to disentangle matters.
MAGISTRATE. And 'tis 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--'tis 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, 'tis 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 erect his organ ...
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._)
FIRST WOMAN. And this one too. (_Drenching him with water._)
SECOND WOMAN. And these fillets. (_Drenching him with water._)
LYSISTRATA. What do you lack more? 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.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Awake, friends of freedom; let us hold ourselves aye
ready to act. I suspect a mighty peril; I foresee another Tyranny like
Hippias'. I am sore afraid the Laconians assembled here with
Cleisthenes 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. 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.
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; 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 was bearer of the sacred vessels; at ten, I pounded
barley for the altar of Athené; next, clad in a robe of yellow silk, I
was _little bear_ to Artemis at the Brauronia; presently, grown a
tall, handsome maiden, they put a necklace of dried figs about my neck,
and I was Basket-Bearer. 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. Outrage upon outrage! things are going from bad to
worse. Let us punish the minxes, every one of us that has a man's
appendages 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. If we give them the least hold over us,
'tis all up! their audacity will know no bounds! We shall see them
building ships, and fighting sea-fights, like Artemisia; nay, 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 e'en fit collars to all these willing necks.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. 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 tunics, and quick's the word;
women must scent the savour 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 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. 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 Hecaté, 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 someone gives you a neat trip-up and breaks your neck for you!
CHORUS OF WOMEN (_addressing Lysistrata_). You, Lysistrata, you who are
leader of our glorious enterprise, why do I see you coming towards me
with so gloomy an air?
LYSISTRATA. 'Tis the behaviour of these naughty women, 'tis the female
heart and female weakness so discourages me.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Tell us, tell us, what is it?
LYSISTRATA. I only tell the simple truth.
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.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Nay, never seek to hide any ill that has befallen our
cause.
LYSISTRATA. To blurt it out in a word--we are in heat!
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.
Look! there goes one, trying to get out! Halloa there! whither away so
fast?
FIRST WOMAN. I want to go home; I have some Miletus 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 forsooth!
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? Ah! what have you got
there so hard?
THIRD WOMAN. A male child.
LYSISTRATA. No, no, by Aphrodité! nothing of the sort! Why, it feels like
something hollow--a pot or a kettle. Oh! you baggage, 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 confounded 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?
FIRST 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, which doth thunder in the skies, shall set above
what was erst below...."
CHORUS OF WOMEN. What! shall the men be underneath?
LYSISTRATA. "But if dissension do arise among the swallows, and they take
wing from the holy Temple, 'twill be said there is never a more wanton
bird in all the world."
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Ye gods! the prophecy is clear. Nay, never let us be
cast down by calamity! let us be brave to bear, and go back to our posts.
'Twere shameful indeed not to trust the promises of the Oracle.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. 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,
kept a dog 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. You dear old woman, I would fain kiss you.
A WOMAN. I will set you crying without onions.
OLD MAN. ... And give you a sound kicking.
OLD WOMAN. Ah, ha! what a dense forest you have there! (_Pointing._)
OLD MAN. So was Myronides one of the best-bearded of men o' this side;
his backside was all black, and he terrified his enemies as much as
Phormio.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. 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 'em. He
had a holy horror of ill-conditioned fellows, but he was mighty tender
towards women.
A WOMAN. Suppose I up and broke your jaw for you!
AN OLD MAN. I am not a bit afraid of you.
A WOMAN. Suppose I let fly a good kick at you?
OLD MAN. I should see your backside then.
WOMAN. You would see that, for all my age, it is very well attended to,
and all fresh singed smooth.
LYSISTRATA. Ho there! come quick, come quick!
FIRST WOMAN. 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 emprise.
FIRST WOMAN. Where is he, this unknown foe?
LYSISTRATA. Yonder--beside the Temple of Demeter.
FIRST WOMAN. Yes, indeed, I see him; but who is it?
LYSISTRATA. Look, look! does any of you recognize him?
FIRST WOMAN. I do, I do! 'tis 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.
MYRRHINÉ. Have no fear, I undertake the work.
LYSISTRATA. Well, I will stay here to help you cajole the man and set his
passions aflame. The rest of you, withdraw.
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. Yes, no doubt about it, a man!
LYSISTRATA. Begone!
CINESIAS. But who are you that thus repulses me?
LYSISTRATA. The sentinel of the day.
CINESIAS. By all the gods, call Myrrhiné hither.
LYSISTRATA. Call Myrrhiné hither, quotha? And pray, who are you?
CINESIAS. I am her husband, Cinesias, son of Peon.
LYSISTRATA. Ah! good day, my dear friend. Your name is not unknown
amongst us. Your wife has it for ever on her lips; and she never touches
an egg or an apple without saying: "'Twill be for Cinesias."
CINESIAS. Really and truly?
LYSISTRATA. Yes, indeed, by Aphrodité! 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! I beseech you, go and call her to me.
LYSISTRATA. And what will you give me for my trouble?
CINESIAS.
This, if you like (_handling his tool_). I will give you what I have
there!
LYSISTRATA. Well, well, I will tell her to come.
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. Desire is eating out my heart!
MYRRHINÉ. I love him, oh! I love him; but he won't let himself be loved.
No! I shall not come.
CINESIAS. Myrrhiné, my little darling Myrrhiné, what are you saying? Come
down to me quick.
MYRRHINÉ. No indeed, not I.
CINESIAS. I call you, Myrrhiné, Myrrhiné; will you not come?
MYRRHINÉ. Why should you call me? You do not want me.
CINESIAS. Not want you! Why, my weapon stands stiff with desire!
MYRRHINÉ. Good-bye.
CINESIAS. Oh! Myrrhiné, Myrrhiné, in our child's name, hear me; at any
rate hear the child! Little lad, call your mother.
CHILD. Mammy, mammy, mammy!
CINESIAS. There, listen! Don't you pity the poor child? It's six days now
you've never washed and never fed the child.
MYRRHINÉ. Poor darling, your father takes mighty little care of you!
CINESIAS. Come down, dearest, come down for the child's sake.
MYRRHINÉ. Ah! what a thing it is to be a mother! Well, well, we must come
down, I suppose.
CINESIAS. Why, how much younger and prettier she looks! And how she looks
at me so lovingly! Her cruelty and scorn only redouble my passion.
MYRRHINÉ. 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?
MYRRHINÉ. Hands off, sir!
CINESIAS. Everything is going to rack and ruin in the house.
MYRRHINÉ. 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?
MYRRHINÉ. Precious little.
CINESIAS. And Aphrodite, whose mysteries you have not celebrated for so
long? Oh! won't you come back home?
MYRRHINÉ. No, at least, not till a sound Treaty put an end to the War.
CINESIAS. Well, if you wish it so much, why, we'll make it, your Treaty.
MYRRHINÉ. Well and good! When that's done, I will come home. Till then, I
am bound by an oath.
CINESIAS. At any rate, let's have a short time together.
MYRRHINÉ. No, no, no! ... all the same I cannot say I don't love you.
CINESIAS. You love me? Then why refuse what I ask, my little girl, my
sweet Myrrhiné.
MYRRHINÉ. You must be joking! What, before the child!
CINESIAS. Manes, carry the lad home. There, you see, the child is gone;
there's nothing to hinder us; let us to work!
MYRRHINÉ. But, miserable man, where, where are we to do it?
CINESIAS. In the cave of Pan; nothing could be better.
MYRRHINÉ. But how to purify myself, before going back into the citadel?
CINESIAS. Nothing easier! you can wash at the Clepsydra.
MYRRHINÉ. But my oath? Do you want me to perjure myself?
CINESIAS. I take all responsibility; never make yourself anxious.
MYRRHINÉ. Well, I'll be off, then, and find a bed for us.
CINESIAS. Oh! 'tis not worth while; we can lie on the ground surely.
MYRRHINÉ. No, no! bad man as you are, I don't like your lying on the bare
earth.
CINESIAS. Ah! how the dear girl loves me!
MYRRHINÉ (_coming back with a bed_). Come, get to bed quick; I am going
to undress. But, plague take it, we must get a mattress.
CINESIAS. A mattress! Oh! no, never mind!
MYRRHINÉ. No, by Artemis! lie on the bare sacking, never! That were too
squalid.
CINESIAS. A kiss!
MYRRHINÉ. Wait a minute!
CINESIAS. Oh! by the great gods, be quick back!
MYRRHINÉ (_coming back with a mattress_). Here is a mattress. Lie down, I
am just going to undress. But, but you've got no pillow.
CINESIAS. I don't want one, no, no.
MYRRHINÉ. But _I_ do.
CINESIAS. Oh! dear, oh, dear! they treat my poor penis for all the world
like Heracles.
MYRRHINÉ (_coming back with a pillow_). There, lift your head, dear!
CINESIAS. That's really everything.
MYRRHINÉ. Is it everything, I wonder.
CINESIAS. Come, my treasure.
MYRRHINÉ. 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.
MYRRHINÉ. Why, you have no blanket.
CINESIAS. Great Zeus! what matter of that? 'tis you I want to fuck.
MYRRHINÉ Never fear--directly, directly! I'll be back in no time.
CINESIAS. The woman will kill me with her blankets!
MYRRHINÉ (_coming back with a blanket_). Now, get up for one moment.
CINESIAS. But I tell you, our friend here is up--all stiff and ready!
MYRRHINÉ. Would you like me to scent you?
CINESIAS. No, by Apollo, no, please!
MYRRHINÉ. Yes, by Aphrodité, but I will, whether you wish it or no.
CINESIAS. Ah! great Zeus, may she soon be done!
MYRRHINÉ (_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 'twill improve when it's well rubbed in. It does not somehow
smack of the marriage bed!
MYRRHINÉ. There, what a scatterbrain I am; if I have not brought Rhodian
perfumes!
CINESIAS. Never mind, dearest, let be now.
MYRRHINÉ. You are joking!
CINESIAS. Deuce take the man who first invented perfumes, say I!
MYRRHINÉ (_coming back with another flask_). Here, take this bottle.
CINESIAS. I have a better all ready for your service, darling. Come, you
provoking creature, to bed with you, and don't bring another thing.
MYRRHINÉ. Coming, coming; I'm just slipping off my shoes. Dear boy, will
you vote for peace?
CINESIAS. I'll think about it. (_Myrrhiné runs away._) I'm a dead man,
she is killing me! She has gone, and left me in torment! I must have
someone to fuck, I must! Ah me! the loveliest of women has choused and
cheated me. Poor little lad (_addressing his penis_), how am I to give
you what you want so badly? Where is Cynalopex? quick, man, get him a
nurse, do!
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? His organ stands stiff and rigid, and
there's never a wench to help him!
CINESIAS. Ye gods in heaven, what pains I suffer!
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Well, there it is; 'tis her doing, that abandoned
hussy!
CINESIAS. Nay, nay! rather say that sweetest, dearest darling.
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 'em round, then drop 'em down crash! and
impale them on the point of his weapon!
A HERALD. Say, where shall I find the Senate and the Prytanes? I am
bearer of despatches.
MAGISTRATE. But are you a man or a Priapus, pray?
HERALD. Oh! but he's mighty simple. I am a herald, of course, I swear I
am, and I come from Sparta about making peace.
MAGISTRATE. But look, you are hiding a lance under your clothes, surely.
HERALD. No, nothing of the sort.
MAGISTRATE. Then why do you turn away like that, and hold your cloak out
from your body? Have you gotten swellings in the groin with your journey?
HERALD. By the twin brethren! the man's an old maniac.
MAGISTRATE. Ah, ha! my fine lad, why I can see it standing, oh fie!
HERALD. I tell you no! but enough of this foolery.
MAGISTRATE. Well, what is it you have there then?
HERALD. A Lacedaemonian 'skytalé.'
MAGISTRATE. Oh, indeed, a 'skytalé,' 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 are half dead with lusting. We simply must have Pellené.
MAGISTRATE. What is the reason of it all? Is it the god Pan's doing?
HERALD. No, but Lampito's and the Spartan women's, acting at her
instigation; they have denied the men all access to their cunts.
MAGISTRATE. But whatever do you do?
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 their cunts till we have all agreed to conclude peace.
MAGISTRATE. Ha, ha! So I see now, 'tis a general conspiracy embracing all
Greece. Go you back to Sparta and bid them send Envoys with plenary
powers to treat for peace. I will urge our Senators myself to name
Plenipotentiaries from us; and to persuade them, why, I will show them
this. (_Pointing to his erect penis._)
HERALD. What could be better? I fly at your command.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. No wild beast is there, no flame of fire, more fierce
and untameable than woman; the panther is less savage and shameless.
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.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Never, never can my hatred cease towards women.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Well, please yourself. Still I cannot bear to leave you
all naked as you are; folks would laugh at me. Come, I am going to put
this tunic on you.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. You are right, upon my word! it was only in my
confounded fit of rage I took it off.
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.
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 me. By Zeus! it has been
hurting my eye this ever so long.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Well, I agree, though your manners are not over and
above pleasant. Oh! what a huge great gnat! just look! It's from
Tricorysus, for sure.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. A thousand thanks! the creature was digging a regular
well in my eye; now it's gone, my tears flow freely.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. I will wipe them for you--bad, naughty man though you
are. Now, just one kiss.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. No--a kiss, certainly not!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Just one, whether you like it or not.
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.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. 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. Is there any, man or woman, 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!
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Ah! here come the Envoys from Sparta with their long
flowing beards; why, you would think they wore a cage between their
thighs. (_Enter the Lacedaemonian Envoys._) Hail to you, first of all,
Laconians; then tell us how you fare.
A LACONIAN. No need for many words; you see what a state we are in.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Alas! the situation grows more and more strained! the
intensity of the thing is just frightful.
LACONIAN. 'Tis beyond belief. But to work! summon your Commissioners, and
let us patch up the best peace we may.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Ah! our men too, like wrestlers in the arena, cannot
endure a rag over their bellies; 'tis an athlete's malady, which only
exercise can remedy.
AN ATHENIAN. Can anybody tell us where Lysistrata is? Surely she will
have some compassion on our condition.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Look! 'tis the very same complaint. (_Addressing the
Athenian._) Don't you feel of mornings a strong nervous tension?
ATHENIAN. Yes, and a dreadful, dreadful torture it is! Unless peace is
made very soon, we shall find no resource but to fuck Clisthenes.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Take my advice, and put on your clothes again; one of
the fellows who mutilated the Hermae might see you.
ATHENIAN. You are right.
LACONIAN. Quite right. There, I will slip on my tunic.
ATHENIAN. Oh! what a terrible state we are in! Greeting to you, Laconian
fellow-sufferers.
LACONIAN (_addressing one of his countrymen_). Ah! my boy, what a thing
it would have been if these fellows had seen us just now when our tools
were on full stand!
ATHENIAN. Speak out, Laconians, what is it brings you here?
LACONIAN. We have come to treat for peace.
ATHENIAN. Well said; we are of the same mind. Better call Lysistrata
then; she is the only person will bring us to terms.
LACONIAN. Yes, yes--and Lysistratus into the bargain, if you will.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN. Needless to call her; she has heard your voices, and
here she comes.
ATHENIAN. Hail, boldest and bravest of womankind! The time is come to
show yourself in turn uncompromising and conciliatory, exacting and
yielding, haughty and condescending. Call up all your skill and
artfulness. Lo! the foremost men in Hellas, seduced by your fascinations,
are agreed to entrust you with the task of ending their quarrels.
LYSISTRATA. 'Twill be an easy task--if only they refrain from mutual
indulgence in masculine love; if they do, I shall know the fact at once.
Now, where is the gentle goddess Peace? Lead hither the Laconian Envoys.
But, look you, no roughness or violence; our husbands always behaved so
boorishly. Bring them to me with smiles, as women should. If any
refuse to give you his hand, then catch him by the penis and draw him
politely forward. Bring up the Athenians too; you may take them just how
you will. Laconians, approach; and you, Athenians, on my other side. Now
hearken all! I am but a woman; but I have good common sense; Nature has
dowered me with discriminating judgment, which I have yet further
developed, thanks to the wise teachings of my father and the elders of
the city. First I must bring a reproach against you that applies equally
to both sides. At Olympia, and Thermopylae, and Delphi, and a score of
other places too numerous to mention, you celebrate before the same
altars ceremonies common to all Hellenes; yet you go cutting each other's
throats, and sacking Hellenic cities, when all the while the Barbarian is
yonder threatening you! That is my first point.
ATHENIAN. Ah, ah! concupiscence is killing me!
LYSISTRATA. Now 'tis to you I address myself, Laconians. Have you
forgotten how Periclides, your own countryman, sat a suppliant
before our altars? How pale he was in his purple robes! He had come to
crave an army of us; 'twas the time when Messenia was pressing you sore,
and the Sea-god was shaking the earth. Cimon marched to your aid at the
head of four thousand hoplites, and saved Lacedaemon. And, after such a
service as that, you ravage the soil of your benefactors!
ATHENIAN. They do wrong, very wrong, Lysistrata.
LACONIAN. We do wrong, very wrong. Ah! great gods! what lovely thighs she
has!
LYSISTRATA. And now a word to the Athenians. Have you no memory left of
how, in the days when ye wore the tunic of slaves, the Laconians came,
spear in hand, and slew a host of Thessalians and partisans of Hippias
the Tyrant? They, and they only, fought on your side on that eventful
day; they delivered you from despotism, and thanks to them our Nation
could change the short tunic of the slave for the long cloak of the free
man.
LACONIAN. I have never seen a woman of more gracious dignity.
ATHENIAN. I have never seen a woman with a finer cunt!
LYSISTRATA. Bound by such ties of mutual kindness, how can you bear to be
at war? Stop, stay the hateful strife, be reconciled; what hinders you?
LACONIAN. We are quite ready, if they will give us back our rampart.
LYSISTRATA. What rampart, my dear man?
LACONIAN. Pylos, which we have been asking for and craving for ever so
long.
ATHENIAN. In the Sea-god's name, you shall never have it!
LYSISTRATA. Agree, my friends, agree.
ATHENIAN. But then what city shall we be able to stir up trouble in?
LYSISTRATA. Ask for another place in exchange.
ATHENIAN. Ah! that's the ticket! Well, to begin with, give us Echinus,
the Maliac gulf adjoining, and the two legs of Megara.
LACONIAN. Oh! surely, surely not all that, my dear sir.
LYSISTRATA. Come to terms; never make a difficulty of two legs more or
less!
ATHENIAN. Well, I'm ready now to off coat and cultivate my land.
LACONIAN. And I too, to dung it to start with.
LYSISTRATA. That's just what you shall do, once peace is signed. So, if
you really want to make it, go consult your allies about the matter.
ATHENIAN. What allies, I should like to know? Why, we are _all_ on the
stand; not one but is mad to be fucking. What we all want, is to be abed
with our wives; how should our allies fail to second our project?
LACONIAN. And ours the same, for certain sure!
ATHENIANS. The Carystians first and foremost, by the gods!
LYSISTRATA. Well said, indeed! Now be off to purify yourselves for
entering the Acropolis, where the women invite you to supper; we will
empty our provision baskets to do you honour. At table, you will exchange
oaths and pledges; then each man will go home with his wife.
ATHENIAN. Come along then, and as quick as may be.
LACONIAN. Lead on; I'm your man.
ATHENIAN. Quick, quick's the word, say I.
CHORUS OF WOMEN. Embroidered stuffs, and dainty tunics, and flowing
gowns, and golden ornaments, everything I have, I offer them you with all
my heart; take them all for your children, for your girls, against they
are chosen "basket-bearers" to the goddess. I invite you every one to
enter, come in and choose whatever you will; there is nothing so well
fastened, you cannot break the seals, and carry away the contents. Look
about you everywhere ... you won't find a blessed thing, unless you have
sharper eyes than mine. And if any of you lacks corn to feed his
slaves and his young and numerous family, why, I have a few grains of
wheat at home; let him take what I have to give, a big twelve-pound loaf
included. So let my poorer neighbours all come with bags and wallets; my
man, Manes, shall give them corn; but I warn them not to come near my
door, or--beware the dog!
A MARKET-LOUNGER. I say, you, open the door!
A SLAVE. Go your way, I tell you. Why, bless me, they're sitting down
now; I shall have to singe 'em with my torch to make 'em stir! What an
impudent lot of fellows!
MARKET-LOUNGER. I don't mean to budge.
SLAVE. Well, as you _must_ stop, and I don't want to offend you--but
you'll see some queer sights.
MARKET-LOUNGER. Well and good, I've no objection.
SLAVE. No, no, you must be off--or I'll tear your hair out, I will; be
off, I say, and don't annoy the Laconian Envoys; they're just coming out
from the banquet-hall.
AN ATHENIAN. Such a merry banquet I've never seen before! The Laconians
were simply charming. After the drink is in, why, we're all wise men,
all. It's only natural, to be sure, for sober, we're all fools. Take my
advice, my fellow-countrymen, our Envoys should always be drunk. We go to
Sparta; we enter the city sober; why, we must be picking a quarrel
directly. We don't understand what they say to us, we imagine a lot they
don't say at all, and we report home all wrong, all topsy-turvy. But,
look you, to-day it's quite different; we're enchanted whatever happens;
instead of Clitagoras, they might sing us Telamon, and we should
clap our hands just the same. A perjury or two into the bargain, la! what
does that matter to merry companions in their cups?
SLAVE. But here they are back again! Will you begone, you loafing
scoundrels.
MARKET-LOUNGER. Ah ha! here's the company coming out already.
A LACONIAN. My dear, sweet friend, come, take your flute in hand; I would
fain dance and sing my best in honour of the Athenians and our noble
selves.
AN ATHENIAN. Yes, take your flute, i' the gods' name. What a delight to
see him dance!
CHORUS OF LACONIANS. Oh Mnemosyné! inspire these men, inspire my muse who
knows our exploits and those of the Athenians. With what a godlike ardour
did they swoop down at Artemisium on the ships of the Medes! What a
glorious victory was that! For the soldiers of Leonidas, they were
like fierce wild-boars whetting their tushes. The sweat ran down their
faces, and drenched all their limbs, for verily the Persians were as many
as the sands of the seashore. Oh! Artemis, huntress queen, whose arrows
pierce the denizens of the woods, virgin goddess, be thou favourable to
the Peace we here conclude; through thee may our hearts be long united!
May this treaty draw close for ever the bonds of a happy friendship! No
more wiles and stratagems! Aid us, oh! aid us, maiden huntress!
LYSISTRATA. All is for the best; and now, Laconians, take your wives away
home with you, and you, Athenians, yours. May husband live happily with
wife, and wife with husband. Dance, dance, to celebrate our bliss, and
let us be heedful to avoid like mistakes for the future.
CHORUS OF ATHENIANS Appear, appear, dancers, and the Graces with you! Let
us invoke, one and all, Artemis, and her heavenly brother, gracious
Apollo, patron of the dance, and Dionysus, whose eye darts flame, as he
steps forward surrounded by the Maenad maids, and Zeus, who wields the
flashing lightning, and his august, thrice-blessed spouse, the Queen of
Heaven! These let us invoke, and all the other gods, calling all the
inhabitants of the skies to witness the noble Peace now concluded under
the fond auspices of Aphrodité. Io Paean! Io Paean! dance, leap, as in
honour of a victory won. Evoé! Evoé! And you, our Laconian guests, sing
us a new and inspiring strain!
CHORUS OF LACONIANS. Leave once more, oh! leave once more the noble
height of Taygetus, oh! Muse of Lacedaemon, and join us in singing the
praises of Apollo of Amyclae, and Athena of the Brazen House, and the
gallant twin sons of Tyndarus, who practise arms on the banks of Eurotas
river. Haste, haste hither with nimble-footed pace, let us sing
Sparta, the city that delights in choruses divinely sweet and graceful
dances, when our maidens bound lightly by the river side, like frolicsome
fillies, beating the ground with rapid steps and shaking their long locks
in the wind, as Bacchantes wave their wands in the wild revels of the
Wine-god. At their head, oh! chaste and beauteous goddess, daughter of
Latona, Artemis, do thou lead the song and dance. A fillet binding thy
waving tresses, appear in thy loveliness; leap like a fawn; strike thy
divine hands together to animate the dance, and aid us to renown the
valiant goddess of battles, great Athené of the Brazen House!