The Comedies, Vol. 1 E-Book

- Aristophanes

• Herausgeber: Jazzybee Verlag
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Seitenzahl: 734

Beschreibung

The so-called old comedy, of which Aristophanes is the only surviving representative, flourished at the time of the Peloponnesian War which shook Greek civilization. There is no good single modern analogue of the old comedy. It is a blend of Shakespeare's 'MidsummerA Night's Dream' with Bernard Shaw. It is extravaganza combined with the dramatic criticism of ideas and set off with occasional flights of true poetry. So at least it appears in Aristophanes, who in native genius and spontaneous mastery of expression ranks with the four or five supreme poets of Greece. This is volume one out of two and includes: The Acharnians The Knights The Clouds The Wasps Peace The Birds This edition also features more than 2000 notes.

Leseprobe

The Comedies

Vol. 1

ARISTOPHANES

The Comedies, Vol. 1, Aristophanes

Jazzybee Verlag Jürgen Beck

86450 Altenmünster, Loschberg 9

Deutschland

ISBN: 9783849648343

www.jazzybee-verlag.de

[email protected]

CONTENTS

Translator’s Preface.1

The Acharnians.1

The Knights.1

The Clouds.1

The Wasps.1

Peace. 1

The Birds.1

Endnotes:1

 

TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE.

In the present English version of the Comedies of Aristophanes, the text adopted is that of Dindorf, as revised for the edition recently published by Didot, which it may here be observed is a great improvement on that contained in his Poetæ Scenici. The translator’s aim has been to render the very words of Aristophanes into English as closely and exactly as the idioms of the two languages admit, and in illustrating his author the most approved commentators and versions have been diligently consulted. Any other mode of proceeding would have been inconsistent with the profession of a new and literal translation. Loose paraphrases of difficult Greek authors,—of which the world has more than enough already,—would be any thing but new, while an attempt to improve the author by substituting modern conceits, or fanciful interpretations, whenever the quaintness or freedom of the original appeared likely to offend the reader, would be inconsistent with his professed object. He has endeavoured to give what Aristophanes actually wrote, as far as could be accomplished in English words, excepting in passages of extreme indelicacy, [vi] which are necessarily paraphrased. The obscurity which sometimes arises in the English text from a strictly literal rendering, has been obviated by explanatory notes, and by extracts from English and German metrical versions, in which the thoughts are expanded and freely expressed. The metrical extracts are mostly taken from Frere, Walsh, Carey, and Wheelwright, and from the excellent German versions of Voss and Droysen. The latter of these has afforded most valuable assistance throughout. That of Voss has been less available, being so absolutely literal as often to be more difficult than the Greek itself. Droysen, on the contrary, being expressed in easy idiomatic language, may be understood by any one who can read German at all. In conclusion, it only remains to observe, that three of the plays now offered to the public, the Lysistrata, Thesmophoriazusæ, and Ecclesiazusæ, have never before appeared in English prose.

W. J. H.

St. John’s College.

THE ACHARNIANS.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

DICÆOPOLIS.

HERALD.

PRYTANES.

AMPHITHEÜS.

AMBASSADORS.

PSEUDARTABAS.

THEORUS.

CHORUS OF ACHARNIANS.

WIFE OF DICÆOPOLIS.

DAUGHTER OF DICÆOPOLIS.

SERVANT OF EURIPIDES.

EURIPIDES.

LAMACHUS.

MEGARIAN.

DAUGHTERS OF THE MEGARIAN.

SYCOPHANT.

BŒOTIAN.

NICHARCHUS.

MESSENGERS.

HUSBANDMEN.

PARANYMPH.

Scene.—At first the General Assembly, at the Pnyx; afterwards the house of Dicæopolis, in the country.

THE ARGUMENT.

This Comedy takes its name from the natives of Acharnæ, who constitute the Chorus. In order of time, it is the first entire play which has come down to us. It was brought out in January, bc 425, Ol. lxxxviii. 4, at the Lenæan feast of Bacchus, in the sixth year of the Peloponnesian war. It obtained the first prize, the Χειμαζόμενοι of Cratinus the second, and the Νουμηνία of Eupolis the third. Musgrave and Scaliger, deceived by the corrupt reading, Εὐθυμένους, in the argument, have ascribed it to bc 437, although the play itself, vs. 266, mentions the sixth year of the war, and quotes the Philoctetes of Euripides, vs. 424; and although the archonship of this Euthymenes is referred to as a distant date, vs. 67.—See Clinton’s Fast. Hell. p. 69, second edition.

The plot is simply this:—Dicæopolis, an Athenian citizen, but an Acharnian by birth, tired at the continuance and miseries of the war, determines, if he cannot persuade the Athenians to adopt his measures, to make a peace for himself and family. The Athenians, elated by success, and urged on by the factious demagogues of the day, refuse to hear of it. Dicæopolis, therefore, despatches Amphitheüs to Sparta, on his own account. A private peace is concluded, and its happy results are enumerated with all the festivity and license conceded to the old Comedy. For the political importance of Acharnæ, see Thucydides, book ii. c. xix. xx; and for other particulars, Anacharsis’ Travels, vol. iv. 314, &c., octavo edition. As tending to elucidate many passages, it may be observed, that Acharnæ abounded in charcoal works. This was the author’s third play, the two preceding it, the Δαιταλεῖς (bc 427, under the name of Philonicles), and Βαβυλώνιοι (bc 426, at the Great Dionysia, under the name of Callistratus), not having come down to us entire.

Dicæopolis (soïus).

How many things truly have I been vexed at in my heart; and with how few have I been pleased, how very few, some four! while the things I have suffered are countless. Come, let me see; at what was I pleased that was worthy of exultation? I know at what I was gladdened in my heart when I saw it,—at the five talents which Cleon disgorged. How I was transported at this, and for this deed I love the Knights, for it was worthy of Greece! But then again I suffered another woe, a tragic one; just when Endnote 002 I was gaping with expectation for Æschylus, the herald proclaimed, “Theognis, Endnote 003 introduce your Chorus.” You can’t think how this agitated my heart! But then again I was pleased, when at length Dexitheus entered, after Moschus, Endnote 004 to sing a Bœotian strain. And this year I almost died, and stared my eyes asquint at the sight, when Chæris strutted forward to chaunt the Orthian strain. But never at any time since I began to wash, have I been so tormented in my eyebrows by dust as now, when, the regular morning assembly being come, the Pnyx here is empty, while the members in the market-place gossip, and shift up and down to avoid the vermilion’d rope. Endnote 005 Neither have the Prytanes arrived; and when they arrive too late, you can’t think Endnote 006 how they will jostle each other for the first seat Endnote 007 rushing down in a body. But how peace is to be made, they take  no heed. O city, city! While I, always coming first to the assembly, take my seat; and there being alone, groan, gape, stretch and yawn, Endnote 008 break wind, puzzle, scribble, pluck my hairs, calculate, looking towards the country, anxious for peace, disgusted with the city, and longing for my own farm, which never at any time said, “Buy coals,” or “vinegar,” or “oil;” or knew the word “buy,”—but of itself produced all things, and the “buy” was absent. Now therefore I have come thoroughly prepared to bawl, interrupt, rail at the orators, if any one talk of any thing but peace. But see here come our Prytanes at noon! Did I not say so? Exactly as I said, every man of them is jostling for the first seat.

Herald, Amphitheüs, Dicæopolis, Prytanes, Ambassadors.

Her.

Advance to the front; advance, that ye may be within the purified Endnote 009 ground.

Amp.

Has any one spoken yet?

Her.

Who wishes to speak?

Amp.

I.

Her.

Who are you?

Amp.

Amphitheüs.

Her.

Not a man?

Amp.

No; but an immortal. For Amphitheüs was son of Ceres and Triptolemus; and of him was born Celeüs; and Celeüs married my grandmother Phænarete, of whom was born Lucinus; and from him I, an immortal, am descended; and to me alone the gods intrusted to make peace with the Lacedæmonians. Yet, immortal as I am, sirs, I have no travelling allowance, for the Prytanes grant Endnote 010 none.

Her.

Ho, Tipstaffs!

Amp.

Triptolemus and Celeüs, will you allow me to be treated thus?

Dic.

Mr. Prytanes, you wrong the assembly in ordering the man to be led away, Endnote 011 who was wishing to make peace for us, and hang up our bucklers. [Amphitheüs is ejected by force.]

Her.

Sit down, and hold your tongue.

Dic.

By Apollo, will I not, unless you bring forward a motion for peace.

Her.

The ambassadors from the king.

Dic.

What king? Endnote 012 I am aweary of ambassadors, and their peacocks, Endnote 013 and their quackeries. [Enter ambassadors gorgeously dressed out.]

Her.

Silence!

Dic.

Bah! Ecbatana, what a dress!

Amb.

You sent us to the great king, with a salary of two drachmæ a day, in the archonship of Euthymenes. Endnote 014

Dic.

Ah me! the drachmæ!

Amb.

And in truth we were worn out with wandering about in tents along the plain of the Cayster, being half killed with reclining luxuriously on our close carriages.

Dic.

Why, did I get off well, who lay upon litter Endnote 015 beside the battlements?

Amb.

And being entertained with hospitality, we drank against our wills, from cups of glass and golden chalices, sweet unmixed wine.

Dic.

city of Cranaus! perceivest thou the mockery of the ambassadors?

Amb.

For the Barbarians esteem those only men, who have the greatest power to eat and drink.

Dic.

While we consider wenchers and debauchees as such. Endnote 016

Amb.

Howbeit, on the fourth year we arrived at the palace; but he had gone to ease himself, having taken an army; and for eight months he eased himself upon the golden mountains.

Dic.

When did the effects of the medicine wear off?

Amb.

At the full of the moon, and then he returned home  Then he entertained us, and served up to us whole oxen from the baking pot.

Dic.

And who ever beheld baked oxen? What impostures!

Amb.

And, by Jupiter, he served up to us a bird thrice the size of Cleonymus: Endnote 017 its name was Cheat.

Dic.

For this reason then you ‘cheated’ us in taking two drachmæ.

Amb.

And now we have brought with us Pseudartabas, the King’s Eye.

Dic.

Would that a crow would strike and knock thine out, ambassador.

Her.

The King’s Eye!

Pseudartabas, the King’s Eye.

Dic.

King Hercules! By the gods, man, do you look like a man of war, or, while doubling a promontory, are you looking out for a dry-dock? A rowlock-leather you have, I ween, about your eye below.

Amb.

Come now, Pseudartabas, declare what the king sent you to say to the Athenians.

King’s Eye.

Iartaman exarx’ anapissonai satra. Endnote 018

Amb.

Do you understand what he says?

Dic.

By Apollo, not I.

Amb.

He says the king will send you gold. Now say gold’ louder, and distinctly.

King’s Eye.

Ou lepsi cruso chaunoproct’ iaonau. Endnote 019

Dic.

wretched me! how distinctly!

Amb.

What, then, says he?

Dic.

Ask what he says?—he says the Ionians are gaping fools, if they expect gold from the Barbarians.

Amb.

Not so; he speaks of chaldrons Endnote 020 of gold.

Dic.

What Endnote 021 chaldrons? Truly you are a great impostor. But go to; I will examine this man myself. Come now, tell me clearly, in the presence of this ambassador, lest I dip you in a Sardian Endnote 022 dye; will the great king send us any gold? [Pseudartabas gives a nod of dissent.] Are we then heedlessly gulled by our ambassador? [Pseudartabas gives a nod of assent.] These fellows nodded assent at least in Greek, and they are certainly from this very country: and of the two eunuchs, this here one I know, who he is—Clisthenes, the son of Sibyrtius. O thou who hast a hot-tempered rump shaven, Endnote 023 with such a beard as this, hast thou come to us dressed as a eunuch? But whoever is this? Surely it is not Straton?

Her.

Silence: be seated. The senate invites the King’s Eye to the Prytaneum. [Exeunt Pseudartabas and attendants.]

Dic.

Is not this, pray, as bad as hanging? And then do I, forsooth, tarry here? while the door never Endnote 024 restrains them from entertaining guests. I will do a dread and mighty deed. Where is Amphitheüs?

Amp.

See, here he is. [Enter Amphitheüs.]

Dic.

For me alone, and for my children, and my wife, take these eight drachmæ, and make peace with the Lacedæmonians. But do you Endnote 025 send your embassies, and gape away. [Exit Amphitheüs.]

Her.

Let Theorus come forth, who has returned from Sitacles.

Theorus.

Theor.

Here am I!

Dic.

This is another impostor, who is summoned.

Theor.

We would not have been a long time in Thrace—

Dic.

By Jove, you wouldn’t, if you did not receive a long salary.

Theor.

Had not Zeus covered the whole of Thrace with snow and congealed the rivers, about the very time when Theognis Endnote 026 here was contending for the prize. During this time I was drinking with Sitacles. And, in truth, he was marvellously fond of the Athenians, and of you he was a sincere lover, so that he was even in the habit of writing on the walls Endnote 027 “Pretty Athenians.” And his son, Endnote 028 whom we had made an Athenian citizen, was desirous of eating Apaturian Endnote 029 sausages, and entreated his father to aid his country. And he swore with a libation, that he would lend his assistance, with so great a host, that the Athenians should exclaim, “What a swarm of locusts Endnote 030 approaches!”

Dic.

May I die the worst of deaths, if I believe one jot of this, which you have said here, except the locusts.

Theor.

And now he has sent you the most warlike tribe of the Thracians.

Dic.

This is now evident.

Theor.

Come hither, you Thracians, whom Theorus brought.

Thracian Odomanti.

Dic.

What plague have we here?

Theor.

A band of the Odomanti. Endnote 031

Dic.

What Odomanti? Endnote 032 Tell me, what means this? How came the Odomanti to resemble lewd Athenians?

Theor.

If one give them two drachmæ as their pay, they will overrun with light-armed troops the whole of Bœotia.

Dic.

Two drachmæ to these lewd fellows! With reason might our topmost rowers groan, the safeguards of the state. [Thracians attack Dicæopolis and rob him.] Ah me, unhappy man, I am undone! being robbed of my garlic by the Odomanti. Will you not lay down my garlic?

Theor.

Wretched man! Don’t approach Endnote 033 these fellows when primed with garlic.

Dic.

Do the Prytanes suffer me to be treated thus in my own country, and that too at the hands of Barbarians? I forbid you to hold an assembly Endnote 034 for the Thracians on the subject of pay, and acquaint you that there is an omen from the sky, Endnote 035 and that a drop of rain has struck me.

Her.

The Thracians will retire, and present themselves the day after Endnote 036 to-morrow; for the Prytanes Endnote 037 dismiss the assembly. [Exeunt Theorus, Herald, &c.]

Dic.

Ah me, unhappy man! what an olio have I lost! But here’s Amphitheüs from Lacedæmon. Hail, Amphitheüs! [Enter Amphitheüs.]

Amp.

Not yet, until I cease running; for I am obliged to escape from the Acharnians by flight.

Dic.

What’s the matter?

Amp.

I was hastening hitherward, bringing you a peace, but certain seniors of Acharnæ got scent of me, sturdy old fellows, tough as oak, inflexible, Marathon men, stout as maple. Then all of them lifted up their voices—“Abandoned villain! do you bring a peace, when our vines are cut?” And they set a gathering some stones into their cloaks. But I fled, while they pursued and bellowed.

Dic.

Then let them bellow. Endnote 038 But bringest thou the aforesaid peace?

Amp.

Aye marry, here are three samples. These are for five years. Take and taste.

Dic.

Bah!

Amp.

What’s the matter?

Dic.

They please me not, because they smell of pitch and naval preparations. Endnote 039

Amp.

At least take and taste this, which is for ten years.

Dic.

This too smells very sharply of embassies to our towns, as it were of delay amongst the allies.

Amb.

Well, this is for thirty Endnote 040 years, both by land and sea.

Dic.

Dionysia! These truly smell of ambrosia and nectar, and not to have in readiness provision for three Endnote 041 days; and they say openly, “Go where thou wilt.” These I receive, I make libation with, and will drink up, bidding a long farewell to the Acharnians. And I, freed from war and toils, will go within and celebrate the rural Dionysia. Endnote 042 [Exit Dicæopolis.]

Amp.

While Endnote 043 I will escape from the Acharnians. [Exit Amphitheüs.]

Chorus.

Cho.

Follow, each of you, this way, pursue, and inquire after the man from all the travellers; for ’tis worthy of our city to seize this fellow. But declare to me, if any one knows where in the world he that bears the peace has turned. He is fled away; he is vanished and gone. Alas my years, wretched man that I am! In the days of my youth, when, bearing a load of coals, I followed Phayllus in the race, this truce-bearer would not have so easily escaped, when pursued by me; neither would he have so nimbly slipped off. But now, since at length my shin is stiffened, and the legs of the aged Lacratides are wearied, he is gone. He must be pursued; for never let Endnote 044 him laugh at us, nor one who, by having escaped the Acharnians, old men as we are, made peace, O Jove and ye gods, with our foes, against whom, on account of my estates, hostile war is increased by me; and I will not give over until, like a rush, I stick right into them sharp, painful, up to the hilt, so that they may never again trample on my vines. We must seek for the fellow, and look towards Ballene, Endnote 045 and pursue him from land to land, Endnote 046 until at length he be found: for I could not be surfeited with pelting him with stones.

Dicæopolis, Endnote 047 his Daughter, and Wife.

Dic.

Use no ill-omened words: use no ill-omened words.

Cho.

Silence, each of you. Did you hear, friends, the proclamation of silence? This is the very person whom we are seeking for. Hither, each of you; get out of his way; for the man, as it seems, is coming out to sacrifice.

Dic.

Use no ill-omened words: use no ill-omened words.  Let the basket-bearer advance a little forward. Let Xanthias set up the Phallus erect.

Wife.

Do you, my daughter, put down the basket, that we may commence the rites.

Daugh.

Mother, reach here the soup-ladle, that I may pour some soup upon this pan-cake.

Dic.

Well, now ’tis right, O sovereign Bacchus, that I, having led this procession agreeably to thee, and having sacrificed with my household, should celebrate the rural Dionysia happily, having been freed from military service; and that my peace for thirty years turn out well.

Wife.

Come, daughter, take care that, pretty as you are, you bear the basket prettily, with a verjuice face. How blest the man who shall wed you, and beget upon you pussies to—stink no less than you, as soon as it is dawn. Proceed, and in the crowd take especial care, that no one secretly nibbles off your golden ornaments.

Dic.

Xanthias, Endnote 048 you two must hold the Phallus erect behind the basket-bearer, and I following will sing the Phallic hymn; and do you, wife, look at me from the house-top. [Exeunt wife and daughter.] Proceed, O Phales, companion of Bacchus, fellow-reveller, roaming by night, friend of love and lechery: in the sixth year I address you, having come with delight to my township, having made for myself a peace, and being freed from troubles and battles and Lamachi. Endnote 049 For it is far sweeter, O Phales, Phales! having found a pretty woodgatherer, Strymodorus’ Thracian maid, purloining wood from Phelleus, Endnote 050 to catch her by the waist and lift her up, and throw her down and roll her in the grass. O Phales, Phales! if with us you quaff your cups, in the morning, after your sick head-ache, you shall gulp down a bowl—of peace; and my shield shall be hung up amidst the sparks.

Cho.

This is the very fellow, this: pelt, pelt, pelt, pelt; strike, strike the wretch, each of you; will you not pelt? will you not pelt? [Chorus pelts him.]

Dic.

Hercules! what’s this? You ’ll smash my pitcher.

Cho.

Nay, rather, we will stone you to death, rascally fellow.

Dic.

For what cause, Acharnian seniors?

Cho.

Do you ask this? You are shameless and abominable, O betrayer of your country, who, having made a peace without us, Endnote 051 canst look me in the face.

Dic.

But ye do not know wherefore I made the peace: hear me.

Cho.

Shall we hear you? You shall perish; we will overwhelm you with stones.

Dic.

By no means, before you hear me; come, have patience, good sirs.

Cho.

I will not be patient; nor do thou utter a word to me, for I hate thee still more than Cleon, whom I will Endnote 052 cut up into shoe-soles for the Knights. I ’ll not hearken to you uttering long speeches, who have made a peace with the Lacedæmonians; but will punish you.

Dic.

Good sirs, leave the Lacedæmonians out of the question; and hear my peace, if I have rightly made it.

Cho.

How can you any more talk of “rightly,” if once you have made peace with those, with whom neither altar, nor pledge, nor oath Endnote 053 holds good?

Dic.

I know that the Lacedæmonians, against whom we are excessively vehement, are not the causes of all our troubles.

Cho.

Not of all, you villain? Hast thou the audacity, pray, openly to say this to us? Then shall I spare you?

Dic.

Not of all, not of all; but I here, who address you, could prove abundantly that they have even been injured in some cases.

Cho.

This expression is dreadful and heart-troubling, if you shall dare to speak to us in defence of our foes.

Dic.

And if I speak not what is just, and am not approved of by the people, I shall be ready to speak with this neck of mine over a chopping-block.

Cho.

Tell me, fellow-tribesmen, why spare we our stones, so as not to card Endnote 054 this fellow into a scarlet rag?

Dic.

How again a black burning coal has blazed up within you! Will you not hear, will you not hear, pray, Endnote 055 O sons of the Acharnians?

Cho.

Assuredly we will not hear you.

Dic.

Then I shall suffer dreadful things.

Cho.

May I utterly perish if I hear you.

Dic.

By no means, O Acharnians.

Cho.

Be assured now that you shall die.

Dic.

Then I will sting you; for I will kill in turn the dearest of your friends, since I have hostages of you, whom I will take and butcher. Endnote 056 [Seizes a hamper of charcoal, and dresses it up like a baby.]

Cho.

Tell me, Endnote 057 fellow-tribesmen, what word is this, with which he threatens us Acharnians? Has he shut up within a child of any of those present? or at what is he emboldened?

Dic.

Pelt, if ye will, for I will kill this one. I shall quickly know who of you cares at all for coals.

Cho.

How we are undone! this coal-basket is my fellow tribesman. But do not do what you purpose; by no means, O by no means!

Dic.

Be assured that I will kill him: Endnote 058 cry on, for I will not hear you.

Cho.

Will you then kill this my companion in age, the friend of colliers?

Dic.

But you did not just now give ear to me when I spoke.

Cho.

Well now, if it seems good to you, say that the Lacedæmonians themselves are dear to your mind; for never will I betray this little coal-basket.

Dic.

First, then, Endnote 059 empty your stones upon the ground.

Cho.

See, they’re on the ground; and do you in turn lay down your sword.

Dic.

But see that some stones are not lying in ambush somewhere in your cloaks. Endnote 060

Cho.

They have been shook out on the ground. Don’t you see it shaking? No excuses; lay down your weapon; since this is shaken with the whirl in the dance.

Dic.

So then you were all of you going Endnote 061 to raise a war-cry, and the coals of Parnes all but met with their death, and that too on account of the unnatural conduct of their fellow-tribesmen; and under the influence of fear the coal-basket, like a cuttle-fish, squirted upon me abundant coal-dust. For it is a sad thing that the mind of men should be naturally harsh, Endnote 062 so as to pelt and shout and be willing to hear nothing which offers half and half, while I am willing to say over a chopping-block all that I say in behalf of the Lacedæmonians; and yet I love my life.

Cho.

Why then don’t you bring out the chopping-block and state, you wretch, whatever is this weighty matter which you have in hand? for an earnest desire strongly possesses me to know what you have in your mind. But place here the chopping-block and begin to speak, as you yourself determined the punishment. [Exit Dicæopolis, and re-enter with a chopping-block.]

Dic.

Lo, behold! here is the chopping-block, and the man who is to speak, see here! as small as this! Of Endnote 063 a surety I’ll not fit myself with a shield, by Jupiter, but will speak in behalf of the Lacedæmonians what seems good to me. And yet I greatly fear, for I know the humour of the rustics to be wondrous tickled, if any quack praise them and their city, right or wrong: and there unknowingly they are bought and sold.5 Of the elders again I know the mind, that they look  to nothing else except vexing with their vote; and I know what I suffered myself at the hands of Cleon, on account of my last Endnote 064 year’s comedy. For he dragged me into the senate-house, and calumniated me, and spoke lies against me, and roared like the torrent Cycloboros, and drenched me so that I almost perished altogether, getting into dirty quarrels. Now, therefore, in the first place permit me. ere I speak, to clothe myself like a most wretched man.

Cho.

Why shuffle in this way, and deal subtilly, and contrive delays? Borrow, for all I care, from Hieronymus Endnote 065 some helmet of Pluto dark with rough thick hair, and then exhibit Sisyphus’s wiles, since this trial will not admit of any excuse. Endnote 066

Dic.

Then ’tis time for me to take a bold heart, and I must repair to Euripides.—Slave, slave! [Knocks at the door.]

Servant of Euripides.

Serv. of Eur.

Who’s that?

Dic.

Is Euripides within?

Serv. of Eur.

Not within, he is within, if you have any sense.

Dic.

How within, and then not within?

Serv. of Eur.

Rightly, old man. His mind, collecting scraps of poetry abroad, is not within, while he himself within is making tragedy with his legs lying up. Endnote 067

Dic.

Thrice happy Euripides! when your servant interprets Endnote 068 so wisely. Call him out.

Serv. of Eur.

It is impossible.

Dic.

Still you must; for I won’t go away, but will knock  at the door. Euripides, dear little Euripides, Endnote 069 hearken if ever you did to any man. Dicæopolis of Collidæ calls you—I.

Euripides (from within).

Eur.

I have no leisure.

Dic.

Yet be wheeled out.

Eur.

It is impossible.

Dic.

Yet, however, do.

Eur.

Well then, I will be wheeled out; but I have no leisure to descend. [Euripides is wheeled in.]

Dic.

Euripides!

Eur.

What sayest thou?

Dic.

You make verses with your legs lying up, when you might with them down. No Endnote 070 wonder you make your characters lame. But why wear you the rags from tragedy, a piteous attire? No wonder you make your characters beggars. Come, I beseech you by your knees, Euripides, give me some little rag from your old drama, Endnote 071 for I must speak a lengthy speech to the chorus; and if I speak it badly it brings me death.

Eur.

What rags? those in which Æneus here, the wretched old man, contended? [Points to a suit of rags.]

Dic.

They were not Æneus’s, but a still more wretched man’s.

Eur.

The rags of the blind Phœnix?

Dic.

Not Phœnix’s, no; there was another more miserable than Phœnix.

Eur.

What ragged garments does the man require? What! do you mean the rags of the beggar Philoctetes?

Dic.

No; but of one far, far more beggarly than he.

Eur.

What! do you wish for the squalid garments which Bellerophon, this lame fellow, wore?

Dic.

Not Bellerophon; yet he too, whom I mean, was lame, an importunate beggar, and the deuce at talking.

Eur.

I know the man—Telephus of Mysia.

Dic.

Aye, Telephus: give me, I entreat you, his swaddling-clothes.

Eur.

Slave, give him the rags of Telephus: they lie above the Thyestean rags, between Endnote 072 those of Ino and his.

Serv.

Well! take them.

Dic.

Jupiter, that seest through Endnote 073 and beholdest all things on every side, grant me to dress myself like a most wretched man. Endnote 074 [Puts on the old coat.] Euripides, since you have freely given me these, give me also those things which go with the rags—the little Mysian cap about my head. “For Endnote 075 to-day ’tis needful that I seem to be a beggar; to be indeed what I am, but not to appear so.” The spectators must know who I am; but the chorus, on the other hand, must stand by like fools, that I may fillip them with quibbles. Endnote 076

Eur.

I will give it; for you devise subtleties with a sagacious intellect.

Dic.

Mayest thou be happy! but to Telephus, Endnote 077 what I wish him. Bravo! How I am filled now with quibbles! But still I want the beggar’s stick.

Eur.

Take this, and begone from my stone dwelling.

Dic.

My soul,—for thou seest how I am driven away from his house, though in want of many articles of dress,—now be thou importunate, teasing, and earnest in prayer. Euripides, give me a little basket burnt through with a lamp.

Eur.

What need, unhappy man, possesses you for this wicker-work?

Dic.

No need, but still I wish to take it.

Eur.

Know that thou art troublesome, and begone from my house.

Dic.

Alas! Mayest thou be happy, as once thy mother!

Eur.

Now leave me.

Dic.

Nay, grant me only one little cup whose rim is knocked off!

Eur.

Take it, and be damned! Endnote 078 know that you are troublesome to the house.

Dic.

By Jove, (aside,) you know not yet what ills you work yourself.—But, sweetest Euripides, give me only this, a little pipkin stopped up as to its chinks with sponge.

Eur.

Fellow, you will rob me of my tragedy. Endnote 079 Take this and depart.

Dic.

I am going: and yet what shall I do? for I need one thing, which, if I obtain not, I am undone. Hear, sweetest Euripides! If I obtain this, I will depart, and will not come any more. Give me some withered green-stuff for my little basket.

Eur.

You will ruin me. Here they are. My dramas are vanished!

Dic.

Well, I’ll beg no more, but will be gone; for I am exceeding troublesome, Endnote 080 “not considering that the chiefs abhor  me.” Ah me, unhappy! how I am undone! I have forgotten that on which all my affairs depend. Sweetest and dearest little Euripides! may I perish most miserably, if I ask for any thing any more, but one thing only, this only one, this only one. Give me the chervil you got from your mother. Endnote 081

Eur.

The fellow becomes insolent: shut the door. Endnote 082 [Ex eunt Euripides and his slave.]

Dic.

Heart of mine! we must proceed sans chervil. Do you know how great is the contest you will soon have to encounter, about to speak in behalf of the Lacedæmonians? Proceed then, my heart! there is the starting-place! Do you stand? Will you not go, after having imbibed Euripides?—I commend you. Come now, unhappy heart! go there, and then, there offer your head, and say what seems you good. Dare:—go: advance. Endnote 083 Well done, heart! [Lays his head on the chopping-block.]

Chorus.

Cho.

What will you do? What will you say? Know now that you are a shameless and an iron-hearted man, who, having offered your neck to the state, alone are going to contradict them all. The man does not tremble at the cause. Come now, since you yourself make the choice, say on.

Dic.

Take it not ill of me, spectators, if, being a beggar, Endnote 084 I am yet about to speak amongst the Athenians on the subject of their state, in comic verse, for even comedy knows what is  right: and my words will be severe, but just. For Cleon shall not now Endnote 085 calumniate me, that I slander the state in the presence of strangers; for we are by ourselves, and the contest is in the Lenæum; Endnote 086 and as yet strangers are not present; for neither is the tribute come in, nor the allies from the states. But now we are winnowed clean; for the sojourners I call the chaff of the citizens. I hate the Lacedæmonians exceedingly, and may Neptune, the god of Tænarus, with an earthquake, Endnote 087 shake and throw down on all of them their houses; for my vines have been cut down as well as yours. But,—for those who are present at my speech are friends, why do we thus accuse the Lacedæmonians? For men of us,—I do not mean the state, bear this in mind, that I do not mean the state, but certain rascally fellows, base coin, unfranchised, and counterfeit, and alien-citizens, were in the habit of informing against the small cloaks of the Megarians: Endnote 088 and if any where they were to see a cucumber, or a leveret, or a sucking-pig, or garlic, or salt in lumps, Endnote 089 these were Megarian, and were confiscated the same day. And these, indeed, are trifles, and customary. Endnote 090 But certain young men, drunk with playing at the cottabus, went to Megara and stole away the courtesan Simætha; and then the Megarians, excited by their griefs, stole away in return two harlots from Aspasia; Endnote 091 and hence the beginning of the war broke out for all the Greeks from three strumpets. Then Pericles, the Olympian, in his ire, lightened, thundered, utterly confounded Greece, enacted laws, written like catches, “That the Megarians should neither remain in our territory, nor in our markets,  nor on the sea, nor on the mainland.” Endnote 092 Then the Megarians, when now they were gradually famishing, entreated the Lacedæmonians that the decree which had been made on account of the strumpets might be changed through their intervention; and we were not willing, though they often entreated us. And after this now there was a clatter of bucklers. Some one will observe, we ought not: but tell us what we ought to have done. Come, if some Lacedæmonian sailed out with his ship and informed against and sold a little Seriphian dog, would you have sat still at home? Far from it, certainly. Most assuredly you would have launched immediately three hundred vessels, and the city would have been full of the din of soldiery, of shouting about the election of a Trierarch, pay being issued, figure-heads getting gilded, piazzas groaning, provisions getting measured out, of wine-skins, of oar-leathers, of people buying jars, of garlic, olives, onions in nets, chaplets, sprats, flute-girls, and black eyes. And the dockyard again had been filled with spars getting cut into oars, wooden pins sounding, bottom-oars getting furnished with thongs, boatswain’s flutes, fifes, whistlings. I know that you would have done this, “and do we not imagine that Telephus Endnote 093 will do the like? Then there is no sense in us.”

1 Sem. Chor. Endnote 094

What, really, you rogue and blackguard? Have you the audacity to say this of us, you beggar? And if any of us has been an informer, do you upbraid us with it?

2 Sem. Chor.

Yea, by Neptune, and he says too, what he does say, all justly; and about none of them does he tell lies.

1 Sem. Chor.

Then, if it was just, ought this fellow to mention it? But neither shall you dare to say this with impunity. Endnote 095

2 Sem. Chor.

Hollo you! whither are you running? will you not stop? Since if you strike this man, you yourself shall quickly be raised aloft! Endnote 096

1 Sem. Chor.

Ho, Lamachus! thou who lookest lightning, help us, thou with the Gorgon crest, having appeared!—Ho, Lamachus! friend! fellow-tribesman! let every one assist with speed, if any there be a Taxiarch or engineer, for I am seized by the middle.

Lamachus.

Lam.

Whence heard I the warrior cry? Whither must I render assistance? whither send in tumult? Who roused the Gorgon from my shield’s cover?

Dic. (affecting to be terrified,)

hero Lamachus! what crests and cohorts!

Chor.

Lamachus! has not this fellow for a long time been speaking evil of our whole city?

Lam.

You there! do you, you beggar, dare say this?

Dic.

hero Lamachus! yet pardon me, if, a beggar, I have spoken, and babbled any thing.

Lam.

What have you said of us? Will you not tell?

Dic.

I don’t know as yet, for I am dizzy in my head through fear of your arms. But, I entreat you, remove from me the bugbear. Endnote 097

Lam.

Very well! [Turns away the shield from him.]

Dic.

Now place it for me upside down. Endnote 098

Lam.

There it lies. [Puts the shield upside down before him.]

Dic.

Come now, give me the feather Endnote 099 out of your helmet.

Lam.

Here’s a feather for you.

Dic.

Now take hold of my head, that I may vomit, for my stomach’s turned at the crests.

Lam.

Hollo you! what are you going to do? Are you about to cause a vomit with the feather?

Dic.

Why, is it a feather? Tell me, what bird’s? Is it a braggadocio’s? Endnote 100

Lam.

Woe for you, assuredly you shall Endnote 101 die. [A scuffle, in which Lamachus is foiled.]

Dic.

By no means, Lamachus; for it is not a matter for such strength as yours. But if you are strong, why don’t you give a proof of it? for you are well armed.

Lam.

You say this of your general, you beggar?

Dic.

Why, am I a beggar?

Lam.

Then what are you?

Dic.

Ask me who?—a good citizen, no stickler for office, but, since what time the war commenced, a son of Mars; while you, since what time the war commenced, a Mr. Placeman.

Lam.

For they elected me.

Dic.

Aye, Endnote 102 three cuckoos. Therefore, being disgusted at this, I made peace, when I saw hoary-headed men in the ranks, but striplings, such as you, Endnote 103 shirking the service; Endnote 104 some in Thrace, with an allowance of three drachmæ, Tisameno-Phænippi; Endnote 105 Panourg-Hipparchidæ; others with Chares; others among the Chaonians, Gereto-Theodori;  Diomei-Alazones; others at Camarina, Endnote 106 and at Gela, and at Catagela! Endnote 107

Lam.

For they were elected.

Dic.

But what’s the reason that you somehow or other always receive pay, while none of these present gets any? Prithee, Marilades, you with the grey head, have you ever been on an embassy? [touches his pocket.] See! he shakes his head; and yet he is temperate and hard-working. What, pray, says Dracyllus, or Euphorides, or Prinides? Has any among you knowledge of Ecbatana, or the Chaonians? They say no. But the son of Cæsyra Endnote 108 and Lamachus know them; whom lately, on account of their shot and debts, like those who pour out their dirty wash-water of an evening, all their friends exhorted, Endnote 109 “Get out of the way.”

Lam.

democracy! Is this then to be endured?

Dic.

Certainly not, unless Lamachus gets paid for it.

Lam.

Well then, I will ever wage war with the Peloponnesians, and will harass them in every way, both with ships and land forces, to the best of my power.

Dic.

I, on the other hand, give notice to all the Peloponnesians, and Megarians, and Bœotians, to sell, to traffic with me, but not with Lamachus. Endnote 110 [Exeunt omnes.]

Chor.

The man prevails with his arguments, and makes converts of the people on the subject of the peace. But let us strip and follow with our Anapæsts.

Parabasis.

From the time that our instructor has presided over the comic choruses, he never yet came forward to the spectators to tell how clever he is. But being calumniated Endnote 111 among the hasty-deciding Athenians by his enemies, that he ridicules our state and insults the democratic party, he wants now to make his defence before the changeful Athenians. Now your poet says he is worthy of much good treatment at your hands, in that he put an end to your being neatly cajoled by strangers’ words, Endnote 112 and to your delighting in flattery, and to your being gaping-mouthed cockneys. Endnote 113 And formerly the ambassadors from the cities, trying to cajole you, used first to call you “violet crowned;” Endnote 114 and as often as any one said this, immediately, by reason of the “crowns,” you sat on the tips of your—bums. Endnote 115 And as often as any one soft-sawdered you and called you “sleek Athens,” he used to obtain all his wish through the “sleekness,” for having attached to you the glory of an anchovy. Endnote 116 By having done this, he has been the cause to you of many advantages, and from having made known to you how the people in the cities live under a democracy. Endnote 117  Accordingly now from the cities they have come, bringing in to you tribute, desiring to see the best of poets, who had the hardihood to say amongst the Athenians what is just. And so far already has the fame of his daring reached, when even the King, questioning the embassy of the Lacedæmonians, first asked them whether of the two had the superiority at sea; and then about this poet, Endnote 118 which of the two he plentifully abused. For he said that those people must have become far better, and would be far superior in war, who had him as an adviser. For this reason the Lacedæmonians make you proposals of peace, and demand back Ægina. And for that island Endnote 119 they do not care, but only that they may dispossess this poet. But do you therefore never give him up, inasmuch as he will represent in his comedies what is right. And he says he will teach you many good points, so that you be fortunate, not by wheedling you, nor yet by offering bribes, nor yet by cheating a little, nor yet by playing the villain, nor yet by besprinkling you with praise, but by teaching what is best. Wherefore let Cleon cunningly devise, and contrive every thing against me: for that which is good, and that which is just with me, shall be my ally; and never will I be found, like him, a cowardly and effeminate minister of the state. Come hither, ardent, eager, Acharnian Muse, having the strength of fire, like as the sparks, roused by the favouring fan, bounce from the oaken ashes, when our small fry are lying in readiness, while others mix up the sparkling Endnote 120 Thasian pickle, and others knead the bread. Come thus to me, your fellow-tribesman, with a pompous, vehement, rustic melody.

We aged veterans blame the city; for we are not cherished in our old age in a manner worthy of those our naval victories, but we suffer hardships at your hands, who having cast aged heroes into suits, suffer us to be laughed at by stripling  orators, being nothing but dumb and crack-voiced, whose preserving Neptune is the staff we bear. And babbling through age, we take our stand at the bar, Endnote 121 not seeing any thing but the mist of Justice. While he, eager to have a stripling Endnote 122 act as junior counsel to himself, strikes quickly, Endnote 123 engaging him with periods well-rounded; and then he drags into court the aged Tithonus, and interrogates him, setting word-traps, rending and troubling and confounding him. But he mumbles through old age, and then, cast in his suit, departs. Then he whines, and weeps, and says to his friends, “I depart, having incurred as a fine that wherewith I was to have bought a coffin.” Endnote 124 How is this fitting, to ruin an old man, a hoary warrior, at the clepsydra, who has laboured much with you, and wiped off the heated sweat, manly, indeed, and copious, who acted the warrior’s part at Marathon, for the city’s sake? Then, when we were at Marathon, we were the pursuers, Endnote 125 but now we are pursued by very knavish men; and are taken besides. What will Marpsias reply to this? Endnote 126

For how is it fitting that a man bent double, such as Thucydides, Endnote 127  should perish, entangled in the Scythian wilderness, this Cephisodemus, the prattling advocate? Wherefore I pitied him, and wiped my eyes, when I saw an aged man confounded by an archer-fellow; who, by Ceres, when he was Thucydides, would not readily have put up with even Ceres herself; but first he would have floored in wrestling ten Evathli, and with bawling would have silenced three thousand Archers, and would have out-constabled Endnote 128 the relations of the father himself of Cephisodemus. But, since you do not suffer the aged to get any sleep, decree that the indictments be separate, so that the advocate of the old man may be old and toothless; but the young men’s, lewd and prating, and the son of Clinias. Endnote 129 And henceforth it is the old man’s Endnote 130 business to banish, and, if one be brought to trial, to fine the old, and the young man’s business to banish and fine the young.

Dicæopolis (coming from his house).

Dic.

These are the boundaries of my market-place. Here it is allowable for all the Peloponnesians, and Megarians, and Bœotians to traffic, on condition that Endnote 131 they sell to me, and not to Lamachus. But as clerks of the market Endnote 132 I appoint these three, who have obtained the office by lot,—thongs from Mangetown. Here let neither any sycophant enter, nor any other that is a man of Phasis. Endnote 133 But I will go to fetch the pillar, Endnote 134  upon which I have inscribed the peace, that I may set it up in the market-place open to view. [Exit Dicæopolis.]

Enter Megarian and Daughters. Endnote 135

Meg.

Market of Athens, hail! beloved of the Megarians! By the god of friendship, I longed for you, as for a mother. But, O unhappy daughters of a miserable father, get Endnote 136 up to the barley-cake, if any where you find it. Hear, pray; let your bellies Endnote 137 give attention. Whether do you wish to be sold, or miserably starve?

Daugh.

To be sold! to be sold!

Meg.

I also myself say yes. But who so simple as to buy you, an evident loss? However, I have a certain Megarian device; for I will dress you up as hogs and say I am bringing them for sale. Put on these hog’s hoofs, and take care that you appear to be the offspring of a noble sow; since, by Mercury, if you shall come home, you shall miserably experience Endnote 138 excess of hunger. Put on also these little snouts, and then enter thus into the sack. But take care that you grunt and cry coï, and utter the voice of the pigs of the Mysteries. Endnote 139 While I will call Dicæopolis, to see where he is. Endnote 140 Dicæopolis! do you wish to buy some little pigs?

Dicæopolis.

Dic.

What! a Megarian?

Meg.

We have come to traffic.

Dic.

How fares it with you? Endnote 141

Meg.

We are always hungering one against the other by the fire-side.

Dic.

By Jove, but that’s jolly, if a piper be present. But what else are you Megarians about now?

Meg.

Just what we are doing. Endnote 142 When I set out from thence, the committee were contriving this for the state, how we might most quickly and most miserably perish!

Dic.

Then you will soon get rid of your troubles.

Meg.

Certainly.

Dic.

But what else is going on at Megara? What is the price Endnote 143 of grain?

Meg.

With us, of a high price, like the gods.

Dic.

Do you then bring Endnote 144 salt?

Meg.

Have you not the command of it?

Dic.

Nor yet garlic?

Meg.

What garlic?—the heads of which you always grub up with a stake, like field-mice, whenever you make your inroads.

Dic.

What then do you bring?

Meg.

Why, pigs for the mysteries.

Dic.

You say well: show them.

Meg.

But indeed they are fine ones. Take one up, if you will. How fat and sleek!

Dic.

What is this?

Meg.

A pig, by Jove!

Dic.

What say you? What country pig is this?

Meg.

Of Megara. Or is not this a pig?

Dic.

It does not seem so to me.

Meg.

Is it not shameful? See the incredulity of the man He says this is not a pig. But sooth, if you will, make a wager with me now for salt flavoured with thyme, if this is not a pig after the usage of the Greeks. Endnote 145

Dic.

Yet at least it is a woman’s. Endnote 146

Meg.

’Tis mine, by Diocles! Whose do you suppose they are? Do you wish to hear them speak?

Dic.

By the gods I do.

Meg.

Speak quickly now, piggy. Devil take you, Endnote 147 you must not be silent. By Mercury, I will carry you home again!

Daugh.

Coï, coï.

Meg.

Is this a pig?

Dic.

Aye, now it seems a pig, but when grown up it will be a sow.

Meg.

Within five years, be well assured, it will be like to its mother.

Dic.

But this one here is not fit for sacrifice.

Meg.

Why not? How is it not fit for sacrifice?

Dic.

It has not a tail.

Meg.

For it is young: but when grown up to pig’s estate, it will have a great thick red one. But if you like to bring it up, here’s a fine pig for you!

Dic.

How similar this one is to the other.

Meg.

For it is of the same mother, Endnote 148 and of the same father. But when it is grown fat and hairy, it will be a very fine pig to sacrifice to Venus.

Dic.

But pig is not sacrificed to Venus.

Meg.

Not a pig to Venus? Yea, to her only of the gods. And the flesh too of these pigs is sweetest when it is pierced with a spit. Endnote 149

Dic.

Can they feed now without their mother?

Meg.

Aye, by Neptune, and without their father too

Dic.

But what do they like best to eat?

Meg.

Whatever you give them. Ask them yourself.

Dic.

Pig! Pig!

Dauch.

Coï, coï.

Dic.

Can you eat chick-pease?

Daugh.

Coï, coï, coï.

Dic.

What then? Early Endnote 150 figs?

Daugh.

Coï, coï.

Dic. Endnote 151

How sharply you squeak at the figs! Let some one bring in some figs from within for the little pigs. Endnote 152 Will they eat them? Bless me! How they do munch them, much-esteemed Hercules! Of what country are the pigs? How Endnote 153 Tragasean they look. But they have not perhaps Endnote 154 eaten up all the figs.

Meg.

No—for I took up this one of them.

Dic.

By Jove, the beasts are fine ones! For how much shall I buy Endnote 155 your little grunters of you? Say.

Meg.

The one for a bunch of garlic; the other, if you will, for a single chœnix of salt.

Dic.

I’ll buy them of you. Wait you here.

Meg.

Aye, aye, Endnote 156 sir. [Exit Dicæopolis.] Mercury, thou god of traffic, grant me to sell my wife in this way, and my mother too!

Informer.

Inf.

Fellow! of what country are you?

Meg.

A pig-merchant of Megara.

Inf.

Then I will inform against these little pigs and you, as enemies.

Meg.

The very Endnote 157 thing! Again it comes, whence the beginning of our woes took its rise.

Inf.

You shall Megarize to your cost. Will you not let go the sack?

Meg.

Dicæopolis! Dicæopolis! I am informed against by some one.

Dicæopolis.

Dic.

Who is he that informs against you? Clerks of the market, will you not exclude the informers? What has come into your head, pray, Endnote 158 that you lay Endnote 159 informations without a wick?

Inf.

What! shall I not inform against our foes?

Dic.

Aye, to your cost, if you will not run elsewhere and play the informer. [Exit Informer.]

Meg.

What an evil is this in Athens!

Dic.

Be of good heart, Megarian. Come, take this garlic here, and the salt, at which price you sold your pigs, and fare thee well!

Meg.

But to fare well is not in fashion with us. Endnote 160

Dic.

On my own head then be the impertinence.

Meg.

My little grunters, make the attempt, even without your father, to eat the cake to your salt, Endnote 161 if any one offer it. [Exeunt omnes.]

Cho.

The man is prosperous! Have you not heard how the measure Endnote 162 succeeds? For the man will reap the benefit, sitting in the market-place. And if any Ctesias enter, or other informer, he shall sit down in tears. Neither shall any other man injure you by cheating you in the purchase of provisions. Neither shall Prepis wipe upon you his lewdness. Endnote 163 Nor shall you jostle with Cleonymus; but shall pass through with a clean cloak. And Hyperbolus, when he meets with you, shall not involve you in lawsuits. Nor yet, again,  shall Cratinus, when he falls in with you in the market-place, walk up to you with his head close shaven, Endnote 164 the very rascally Artemo, the man so very rapid in his music, stinking beastly of his Tragasean father in his arm-pits. Endnote 165 Neither, again, shall the most villanous Pauson jeer you; nor Lysistratus in the forum, the disgrace of Cholargeus, he who is double-dyed in villany, shivering and starving continually more than thirty days Endnote 166 each month.

Bœotian (with pipers and attendants).

Bœot.

Let Hercules be witness, I am wretchedly tired in my neck. Ismenias, do you lay down the penny-royal gently. But you, as many flute-players Endnote 167 as are present from Thebes, with your bone pipes play “the dog’s backside.”

Dic.

(coming out of his house). Go to the devil! Won’t you get away from my doors, you wasps? Whence have the bumble-bees of Chæris (the devil take them!) flown to my doors? Endnote 168 [Exeunt pipers.]

Bœot.

With pleasure, stranger, by Iolaus. For playing behind me from Thebes, they have shaken off the blossoms of the penny-royal on the ground. But, if you like, purchase some of the fowls or locusts, Endnote 169 which I bring.

Dic.

Hail, my roll-eating little Bœotian! What are you bringing?

Bœot.

Absolutely whatever is good amongst the Bœotians: origanum, penny-royal, rush-mats, wicks, ducks, jackdaws, woodcocks, coots, sand-pipers, divers.

Dic.

Then you have come to the market, as if a tempest of birds.

Bœot.

Moreover I bring geese, hares, foxes, moles, hedge-hogs, cats, beavers, ferrets, otters, Copaïc eels.

Dic.

thou that bringest a fish most delightful to men! if you are bearing the eels, permit me to address them.

Bœot.

“Eldest Endnote 170 of fifty Copaïc daughters,” come forth, and be civil to this Endnote 171 stranger.

Dic.

dearest thou, and long desired! Thou hast come longed for indeed by the comic chorusses, and dear to Morychus. Endnote 172 Attendants, bring out for me the brazier and the fan hither. [Servants crowd round the eel.] Look, my boys, at the splendid eel, which has come at length in the sixth year, longed for. Address it, my children, and I will furnish you with coals for this stranger’s sake. But carry it in: for not even when dead may I ever be bereft of you stewed in beet. Endnote 173

Bœot.

But how shall I have a recompense for this?

Dic.

This one, perhaps, you will give me as my market toll. But if you are for selling any of these others, say on.

Bœot.

All these will I.

Dic.

Come, for how much, say you? Or will you take home other wares from hence?

Bœot.

Aye, whatever there is at Athens, and not among the Bœotians.

Dic.

Will you buy and take with you Phaleric anchovies, or crockery?

Bœot.

Anchovies or crockery? We have them at home. Let me have whatever is not amongst us, but is, on the contrary, abundant here.

Dic.

Then I know your wants: bring out an informer, having packed him up like crockery.

Bœot.

By the two gods, Endnote 174 I should certainly get even a large profit, if I took him with me, like an ape full of much mischief.

Dic.

And see! here comes Nicarchus to lay informations.

Nicarchus.

Bœot.

He is small in stature.

Dic.

But all there is of him is bad.

Nic.

Whose are these wares?

Bœot.

Mine here, Endnote 175 from Thebes, be Jove my witness.

Nic.

I then here inform against them as an enemy’s.

Bœot.

What ails you Endnote 176 then that you have commenced war and battle with the little birds?

Nic.

I will inform against you too, as well as these.

Bœot.

In what way having been injured?

Nic.

I will tell you, for the good of the bystanders. You are importing wicks Endnote 177 from the enemy.

Dic.

And so, forsooth, you are for informing against a wick?

Nic.

Yes; for this wick might set fire to the dock-yard.

Dic.

A wick a dockyard? Oh! oh!—As how?

Nic.

A Bœotian might stick it in a tom-tailor, Endnote 178 and kindle it and send it into the dockyard through a sewer, having watched for a mighty wind. And if the fire were once to catch the ships, they would be immediately in a blaze.

Dic.

Abandoned miscreant! would they be in a blaze from a tom-tailor and a wick? [Beats him.]

Nic.

I call you all to witness!

Dic.

Stop his mouth! Give me some straw, that I may  take and pack him up like crockery, lest he get broken in the carriage. Endnote 179 [Throws him down and packs him up.]

Cho.

Pack up well, good sir, the stranger’s Endnote 180 merchandise in such a manner, that he may not break it in carrying it.

Dic.

This shall be my care; for of a truth it rings Endnote 181 loud, and cracked, and hateful to the gods besides.

Cho.

Whatever will he make of it?

Dic.

It will be a vessel good for all work; a mixer for mischiefs; a pestle for law-suits; a lamp to inform against Endnote 182 those liable to give in an account; and a cup to mix up troubles in.

Cho.

But how could any one confidently use such a vessel in his house, always making such a jar?

Dic.

It is strong, good sir, so that it would never break, if it were suspended by the feet, head downwards. [Lifts him up by the legs.]

Cho.

It’s all right now.

Bœot.

Marry, I am going to make a harvest. Endnote 183

Cho.

But, best of strangers, with this man on your side, take and make an attack, where’er you please, upon every informer. Endnote 184

Dic.

At last I’ve packed him up, and be damned to him! Bœotian, take and bear off your crockery.

Bœot.

Stoop your neck as you go, Ismenias.

Dic.

And take care that you carry him with caution. At Endnote 185 all events you ’ll carry a shaky piece of goods.—Yet still up with it. And if you make any gain by carrying this merchandise, you ’ll be a happy man, as far Endnote 186 as informers are concerned. [Exit Bœotian carrying the informer on his back.]

Servant of Lamachus.

Serv.

Dicæopolis!

Dic.

What is the matter! Why do you call me?

Serv.

Why? Lamachus requested you to let him have for this here drachma some of your thrushes for the feast of Pitchers. But requested you to let him have a Copaïc eel for three drachmæ.

Dic.

Who may this Lamachus be that requests the eel?

Serv.

The dreaded one, he with the shield of tough bull’s-hide, who brandishes the Gorgon, waving three over-shadowing crests.

Dic.

I would not, by Jove, if even he were to give me his buckler. Let him wave Endnote 187 his crests at salt-fish. But should he make a great din, I will call the Market-clerks. And I will take this merchandise for myself, and enter to the accompaniment of thrushes’ wings Endnote 188 and blackbirds. [Exeunt omnes.]

Cho.

You have seen, oh! you have seen, city at large, the prudent man, the very wise, what articles of merchandise he is able to deal in, by having made peace; of which some are useful in the house, others again are suitable to eat up warm. All good things are spontaneously provided for him. Never will I welcome War Endnote 189 to my house, nor yet shall he ever at my house chaunt “The Harmodius,” seated as a guest; because he is a fellow quarrelsome over his cups, who, having  made a furious assault upon us, possessed of every blessing, perpetrated all evils, and overturned, and squandered, and fought; and, moreover, when I frequently invited him: “Drink, sit down, take this cup of friendship,”—so much the more burnt our vine-props in the fire, and in our despite poured out the wine from our vines. * * * to a feast; at the Endnote 190 same time also he is highly elated, and, as a proof of his good fare, threw out these feathers Endnote 191 before his doors.

Reconciliation, Endnote 192 companion of the beautiful Venus and the dear Graces, I never knew you had so fair a face! Would Endnote 193 that some Cupid, with a chaplet of flowers, like the Endnote 194 one in the picture, would take and join together me and thee! or, do you consider me peradventure a very old man? Yet, if I gained you, I fancy I could add three things beside: first, I would plant a long row of vines; then, near to this, some young suckers of young fig-trees; and thirdly, I, this old man here, would plant a branch of the cultivated vine; and about your whole estate olives round about, so that you and I may anoint ourselves from them at the New-moons.

Herald.

Her.

“O yez, O yez! according to our national Endnote 195 customs  you must drink the Pitchers at the sound of trumpet; and whosoever shall have first emptied his Pitcher, shall receive the wine-skin of Ctesiphon.” Endnote 196 [Exit Herald.]

Dic.

Slaves, women, did you not hear? What are you about? Do you not hear the Herald? Boil, roast, turn, draw off the hare’s flesh quickly, wreathe the chaplets. Bring the spits, that I may spit the thrushes.

Cho.

I deem you happy for your good counsel, but more, sir, for your present good cheer.

Dic.

What then will ye say, when ye see the thrushes roasting?

Cho.

I believe you say this also rightly. Endnote 197

Dic.

Stir up the fire.

Cho.

Did you hear how cook-like and daintily and dinner-like he serves up to himself?

Husbandman.

Husb.

Ah me, unhappy man!

Dic.

Hercules! who is this?

Husb.

A miserable man.

Dic.

Then go your own way. Endnote 198

Husb.

My dearest sir, measure me out a particle of peace, if it be but for five years, for you only are possessed of peace.

Dic.

What have you suffered?

Husb.

I am undone, having lost my two oxen. Endnote 199

Dic.

Where from?

Husb.

The Bœotians took them off from Phyle.

Dic.

Thrice miserable wretch! then are you dressed in white? Endnote 200

Husb.

And that too, certainly, by Jove, which used to keep me in all kinds of—cow-dung. Endnote 201

Dic.

Then what want you now?

Husb.

I am ruined in my eyes Endnote 202 with weeping for my oxen. But, if you have any regard for Dercetes of Phyle, anoint my eyes quickly with peace.

Dic.

Nay, you rascal, I am not the public physician.

Husb.

Come, I entreat you, if by any means I may recover my oxen.

Dic.

It cannot be: weep to Pittalus’ apprentices.

Husb.

At least Endnote 203 drop for me one drop of peace into this little reed.

Dic.

Not a fraction: go and lament some where.

Husb.

Woe’s me, wretched man! for the oxen which tilled my ground! [Exit Husbandman.]

Cho.

The man has found out something sweet in the peace, and does not seem about to give a share to any one.

Dic.

Pour the honey on the sausage. Fry the cuttle-fish.

Cho.

Did you hear his loud shoutings?

Dic.

Fry the eels.

Cho.

You will kill me with hunger, and your neighbours with savoury smells and bawling, if you shout in this way.

Dic.

Roast these and brown them well.

Paranymph.

Par.

Dicæopolis! Dicæpolis!

Dic.

Who is this?

Par.

A bridegroom sent you these meats from the marriage-feast.

Dic.

Well done he, Endnote 204 whoever he was.

Par.

And he requested you to pour, on account of the meats, into his ointment-box one cyathus of peace, that he might not go on service, but might kiss his wife at home.

Dic.

Take away, take away your meats, and give them not  to me, for I would not pour in any for a thousand drachmæ. But who is this here?

Par.

The bridesmaid wants to say something to you in private from the bride.

Dic.

Come now, what are you for saying? [Bridesmaid whispers in his ear.] How ridiculous, ye gods, is the request of the bride, which she earnestly asks of me, that the bridegroom may stay at home! Endnote 205