PISTHETAERUS. Ha! 'twould seem the news was true; I hear someone coming who talks of wings.

PARRICIDE. Nothing is more charming than to fly; I burn with desire to live under the same laws as the birds; I am bird-mad and fly towards you, for I want to live with you and to obey your laws.

PISTHETAERUS. Which laws? The birds have many laws.

PARRICIDE. All of them; but the one that pleases me most is, that among the birds it is considered a fine thing to peck and strangle one's father.

PISTHETAERUS. Aye, by Zeus! according to us, he who dares to strike his father, while still a chick, is a brave fellow.

PARRICIDE. And therefore I want to dwell here, for I want to strangle my father and inherit his wealth.

PISTHETAERUS. But we have also an ancient law written in the code of the storks, which runs thus, "When the stork father has reared his young and has taught them to fly, the young must in their turn support the father."

PARRICIDE. 'Tis hardly worth while coming all this distance to be compelled to keep my father!

PISTHETAERUS. No, no, young friend, since you have come to us with such willingness, I am going to give you these black wings, as though you were an orphan bird; furthermore, some good advice, that I received myself in infancy. Don't strike your father, but take these wings in one hand and these spurs in the other; imagine you have a cock's crest on your head and go and mount guard and fight; live on your pay and respect your father's life. You're a gallant fellow! Very well, then! Fly to Thrace and fight.[330]

PARRICIDE. By Bacchus! 'Tis well spoken; I will follow your counsel.

PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis acting wisely, by Zeus.

CINESIAS.[331] "On my light pinions I soar off to Olympus; in its capricious flight my Muse flutters along the thousand paths of poetry in turn ..."

PISTHETAERUS. This is a fellow will need a whole shipload of wings.

CINESIAS. ... it is seeking fresh outlet."

PISTHETAERUS. Welcome, Cinesias, you lime-wood man![332] Why have you come here a-twisting your game leg in circles?

CINESIAS. "I want to become a bird, a tuneful nightingale."

PISTHETAERUS. Enough of that sort of ditty. Tell me what you want.

CINESIAS. Give me wings and I will fly into the topmost airs to gather fresh songs in the clouds, in the midst of the vapours and the fleecy snow.

PISTHETAERUS. Gather songs in the clouds?

CINESIAS. 'Tis on them the whole of our latter-day art depends. The most brilliant dithyrambs are those that flap their wings in void space and are clothed in mist and dense obscurity. To appreciate this, just listen.

PISTHETAERUS. Oh! no, no, no!

CINESIAS. By Hermes! but indeed you shall. "I shall travel through thine ethereal empire like a winged bird, who cleaveth space with his long neck...."

PISTHETAERUS. Stop! easy all, I say![333]

CINESIAS. ... as I soar over the seas, carried by the breath of the winds ...

PISTHETAERUS. By Zeus! but I'll cut your breath short.

CINESIAS. ... now rushing along the tracks of Notus, now nearing Boreas across the infinite wastes of the ether." (Pisthetaerus beats him.) Ah! old man, that's a pretty and clever idea truly!

PISTHETAERUS. What! are you not delighted to be cleaving the air?[334]

CINESIAS. To treat a dithyrambic poet, for whom the tribes dispute with each other, in this style![335]

PISTHETAERUS. Will you stay with us and form a chorus of winged birds as slender as Leotrophides[336] for the Cecropid tribe?

CINESIAS. You are making game of me, 'tis clear; but know that I shall never leave you in peace if I do not have wings wherewith to traverse the air.

AN INFORMER. What are these birds with downy feathers, who look so pitiable to me? Tell me, oh swallow with the long dappled wings.[337]

PISTHETAERUS. Oh! but 'tis a perfect invasion that threatens us. Here comes another of them, humming along.

INFORMER. Swallow with the long dappled wings, once more I summon you.

PISTHETAERUS. It's his cloak I believe he's addressing; 'faith, it stands in great need of the swallows' return.[338]

INFORMER. Where is he who gives out wings to all comers?

PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis I, but you must tell me for what purpose you want them.

INFORMER. Ask no questions. I want wings, and wings I must have.

PISTHETAERUS. Do you want to fly straight to Pellen?[339]

INFORMER. I? Why, I am an accuser of the islands,[340] an informer ...

PISTHETAERUS. A fine trade, truly!

INFORMER. ... a hatcher of lawsuits. Hence I have great need of wings to prowl round the cities and drag them before justice.

PISTHETAERUS. Would you do this better if you had wings?

INFORMER. No, but I should no longer fear the pirates; I should return with the cranes, loaded with a supply of lawsuits by way of ballast.

PISTHETAERUS. So it seems, despite all your youthful vigour, you make it your trade to denounce strangers?

INFORMER. Well, and why not? I don't know how to dig.

PISTHETAERUS. But, by Zeus! there are honest ways of gaining a living at your age without all this infamous trickery.

INFORMER. My friend, I am asking you for wings, not for words.

PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis just my words that give you wings.

INFORMER. And how can you give a man wings with your words?

PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis thus that all first start.

INFORMER. All?

PISTHETAERUS. Have you not often heard the father say to young men in the barbers' shops, "It's astonishing how Diitrephes' advice has made my son fly to horse-riding."—"Mine," says another, "has flown towards tragic poetry on the wings of his imagination."

INFORMER. So that words give wings?

PISTHETAERUS. Undoubtedly; words give wings to the mind and make a man soar to heaven. Thus I hope that my wise words will give you wings to fly to some less degrading trade.

INFORMER. But I do not want to.

PISTHETAERUS. What do you reckon on doing then?

INFORMER. I won't belie my breeding; from generation to generation we have lived by informing. Quick, therefore, give me quickly some light, swift hawk or kestrel wings, so that I may summon the islanders, sustain the accusation here, and haste back there again on flying pinions.

PISTHETAERUS. I see. In this way the stranger will be condemned even before he appears.

INFORMER. That's just it.

PISTHETAERUS. And while he is on his way here by sea, you will be flying to the islands to despoil him of his property.

INFORMER. You've hit it, precisely; I must whirl hither and thither like a perfect humming-top.

PISTHETAERUS. I catch the idea. Wait, i' faith, I've got some fine Corcyraean wings.[341] How do you like them?

INFORMER. Oh! woe is me! Why, 'tis a whip!

PISTHETAERUS. No, no; these are the wings, I tell you, that set the top a-spinning.

INFORMER. Oh! oh! oh!

PISTHETAERUS. Take your flight, clear off, you miserable cur, or you will soon see what comes of quibbling and lying. Come, let us gather up our wings and withdraw.

CHORUS. In my ethereal nights I have seen many things new and strange and wondrous beyond belief. There is a tree called Cleonymus belonging to an unknown species; it has no heart, is good for nothing and is as tall as it is cowardly. In springtime it shoots forth calumnies instead of buds and in autumn it strews the ground with bucklers in place of leaves.[342]

Far away in the regions of darkness, where no ray of light ever enters, there is a country, where men sit at the table of the heroes and dwell with them always—save always in the evening. Should any mortal meet the hero Orestes at night, he would soon be stripped and covered with blows from head to foot.[343]

PROMETHEUS. Ah! by the gods! if only Zeus does not espy me! Where is Pisthetaerus?

PISTHETAERUS. Ha! what is this? A masked man!

PROMETHEUS. Can you see any god behind me?

PISTHETAERUS. No, none. But who are you, pray?

PROMETHEUS. What's the time, please?

PISTHETAERUS. The time? Why, it's past noon. Who are you?

PROMETHEUS. Is it the fall of day? Is it no later than that?[344]

PISTHETAERUS. Oh! 'pon my word! but you grow tiresome!

PROMETHEUS. What is Zeus doing? Is he dispersing the clouds or gathering them?[345]

PISTHETAERUS. Take care, lest I lose all patience.

PROMETHEUS. Come, I will raise my mask.

PISTHETAERUS. Ah! my dear Prometheus!

PROMETHEUS. Stop! stop! speak lower!

PISTHETAERUS. Why, what's the matter, Prometheus?

PROMETHEUS. H'sh, h'sh! Don't call me by my name; you will be my ruin, if Zeus should see me here. But, if you want me to tell you how things are going in heaven, take this umbrella and shield me, so that the gods don't see me.

PISTHETAERUS. I can recognize Prometheus in this cunning trick. Come, quick then, and fear nothing; speak on.

PROMETHEUS. Then listen.

PISTHETAERUS. I am listening, proceed!

PROMETHEUS. It's all over with Zeus.

PISTHETAERUS. Ah! and since when, pray?

PROMETHEUS. Since you founded this city in the air. There is not a man who now sacrifices to the gods; the smoke of the victims no longer reaches us. Not the smallest offering comes! We fast as though it were the festival of Demeter.[346] The barbarian gods, who are dying of hunger, are bawling like Illyrians[347] and threaten to make an armed descent upon Zeus, if he does not open markets where joints of the victims are sold.

PISTHETAERUS. What! there are other gods besides you, barbarian gods who dwell above Olympus?

PROMETHEUS. If there were no barbarian gods, who would be the patron of Execestides?[348]

PISTHETAERUS. And what is the name of these gods?

PROMETHEUS. Their name? Why, the Triballi.[349]

PISTHETAERUS. Ah, indeed! 'tis from that no doubt that we derive the word 'tribulation.'[350]

PROMETHEUS. Most likely. But one thing I can tell you for certain, namely, that Zeus and the celestial Triballi are going to send deputies here to sue for peace. Now don't you treat, unless Zeus restores the sceptre to the birds and gives you Basileia[351] in marriage.

PISTHETAERUS. Who is this Basileia?

PROMETHEUS. A very fine young damsel, who makes the lightning for Zeus; all things come from her, wisdom, good laws, virtue, the fleet, calumnies, the public paymaster and the triobolus.

PISTHETAERUS. Ah! then she is a sort of general manageress to the god.

PROMETHEUS. Yes, precisely. If he gives you her for your wife, yours will be the almighty power. That is what I have come to tell you; for you know my constant and habitual goodwill towards men.

PISTHETAERUS. Oh, yes! 'tis thanks to you that we roast our meat.[352]

PROMETHEUS. I hate the gods, as you know.

PISTHETAERUS. Aye, by Zeus, you have always detested them.

PROMETHEUS. Towards them I am a veritable Timon;[353] but I must return in all haste, so give me the umbrella; if Zeus should see me from up there, he would think I was escorting one of the Canephori.[354]

PISTHETAERUS. Wait, take this stool as well.

CHORUS. Near by the land of the Sciapodes[355] there is a marsh, from the borders whereof the odious Socrates evokes the souls of men. Pisander[356] came one day to see his soul, which he had left there when still alive. He offered a little victim, a camel,[357] slit his throat and, following the example of Ulysses, stepped one pace backwards.[358] Then that bat of a Chaerephon[359] came up from hell to drink the camel's blood.

POSIDON.[360] This is the city of Nephelococcygia, Cloud-cuckoo-town, whither we come as ambassadors. (To Triballus.) Hi! what are you up to? you are throwing your cloak over the left shoulder. Come, fling it quick over the right! And why, pray, does it draggle this fashion? Have you ulcers to hide like Laespodias?[361] Oh! democracy![362] whither, oh! whither are you leading us? Is it possible that the gods have chosen such an envoy?

TRIBALLUS. Leave me alone.

POSIDON. Ugh! the cursed savage! you are by far the most barbarous of all the gods.—Tell me, Heracles, what are we going to do?

HERACLES. I have already told you that I want to strangle the fellow who has dared to block us in.

POSIDON. But, my friend, we are envoys of peace.

HERACLES. All the more reason why I wish to strangle him.

PISTHETAERUS. Hand me the cheese-grater; bring me the silphium for sauce; pass me the cheese and watch the coals.[363]

HERACLES. Mortal! we who greet you are three gods.

PISTHETAERUS. Wait a bit till I have prepared my silphium pickle.

HERACLES. What are these meats?[364]

PISTHETAERUS. These are birds that have been punished with death for attacking the people's friends.

HERACLES. And you are seasoning them before answering us?

PISTHETAERUS. Ah! Heracles! welcome, welcome! What's the matter?[365]

HERACLES. The gods have sent us here as ambassadors to treat for peace.

A SERVANT. There's no more oil in the flask.

PISTHETAERUS. And yet the birds must be thoroughly basted with it.[366]

HERACLES. We have no interest to serve in fighting you; as for you, be friends and we promise that you shall always have rain-water in your pools and the warmest of warm weather. So far as these points go we are armed with plenary authority.

PISTHETAERUS. We have never been the aggressors, and even now we are as well disposed for peace as yourselves, provided you agree to one equitable condition, namely, that Zeus yield his sceptre to the birds. If only this is agreed to, I invite the ambassadors to dinner.

HERACLES. That's good enough for me. I vote for peace.

POSIDON. You wretch! you are nothing but a fool and a glutton. Do you want to dethrone your own father?

PISTHETAERUS. What an error! Why, the gods will be much more powerful if the birds govern the earth. At present the mortals are hidden beneath the clouds, escape your observation, and commit perjury in your name; but if you had the birds for your allies, and a man, after having sworn by the crow and Zeus, should fail to keep his oath, the crow would dive down upon him unawares and pluck out his eye.

POSIDON. Well thought of, by Posidon![367]

HERACLES. My notion too.

PISTHETAERUS. (to the Triballian). And you, what's your opinion?

TRIBALLUS. Nabaisatreu.[368]

PISTHETAERUS. D'you see? he also approves. But hear another thing in which we can serve you. If a man vows to offer a sacrifice to some god and then procrastinates, pretending that the gods can wait, and thus does not keep his word, we shall punish his stinginess.

POSIDON. Ah! ah! and how?

PISTHETAERUS. While he is counting his money or is in the bath, a kite will relieve him, before he knows it, either in coin or in clothes, of the value of a couple of sheep, and carry it to the god.

HERACLES. I vote for restoring them the sceptre.

POSIDON. Ask the Triballian.

HERACLES. Hi! Triballian, do you want a thrashing?

TRIBALLUS. Saunaka baktarikrousa.[368]

HERACLES. He says, "Right willingly."

POSIDON. If that be the opinion of both of you, why, I consent too.

HERACLES. Very well! we accord the sceptre.

PISTHETAERUS. Ah! I was nearly forgetting another condition. I will leave Her to Zeus, but only if the young Basileia is given me in marriage.

POSIDON. Then you don't want peace. Let us withdraw.

PISTHETAERUS. It matters mighty little to me. Cook, look to the gravy.

HERACLES. What an odd fellow this Posidon is! Where are you off to? Are we going to war about a woman?

POSIDON. What else is there to do?

HERACLES. What else? Why, conclude peace.

POSIDON. Oh! the ninny! do you always want to be fooled? Why, you are seeking your own downfall. If Zeus were to die, after having yielded them the sovereignty, you would be ruined, for you are the heir of all the wealth he will leave behind.

PISTHETAERUS. Oh! by the gods! how he is cajoling you. Step aside, that I may have a word with you. Your uncle is getting the better of you, my poor friend.[369] The law will not allow you an obolus of the paternal property, for you are a bastard and not a legitimate child.

HERACLES. I a bastard! What's that you tell me?

PISTHETAERUS. Why, certainly; are you not born of a stranger woman?[370] Besides, is not Athen recognized as Zeus' sole heiress? And no daughter would be that, if she had a legitimate brother.

HERACLES. But what if my father wished to give me his property on his death-bed, even though I be a bastard?

PISTHETAERUS. The law forbids it, and this same Posidon would be the first to lay claim to his wealth, in virtue of being his legitimate brother. Listen; thus runs Solon's law: "A bastard shall not inherit, if there are legitimate children; and if there are no legitimate children, the property shall pass to the nearest kin."

HERACLES. And I get nothing whatever of the paternal property?

PISTHETAERUS. Absolutely nothing. But tell me, has your father had you entered on the registers of his phratria?[371]

HERACLES. No, and I have long been surprised at the omission.

PISTHETAERUS. What ails you, that you should shake your fist at heaven? Do you want to fight it? Why, be on my side, I will make you a king and will feed you on bird's milk and honey.

HERACLES. Your further condition seems fair to me. I cede you the young damsel.

POSIDON. But I, I vote against this opinion.

PISTHETAERUS. Then all depends on the Triballian. (To the Triballian.) What do you say?

TRIBALLUS. Big bird give daughter pretty and queen.

HERACLES. You say that you give her?

POSIDON. Why no, he does not say anything of the sort, that he gives her; else I cannot understand any better than the swallows.

PISTHETAERUS. Exactly so. Does he not say she must be given to the swallows?

POSIDON. Very well! you two arrange the matter; make peace, since you wish it so; I'll hold my tongue.

HERACLES. We are of a mind to grant you all that you ask. But come up there with us to receive Basileia and the celestial bounty.

PISTHETAERUS. Here are birds already cut up, and very suitable for a nuptial feast.

HERACLES. You go and, if you like, I will stay here to roast them.

PISTHETAERUS. You to roast them! you are too much the glutton; come along with us.

HERACLES. Ah! how well I would have treated myself!

PISTHETAERUS. Let some bring me a beautiful and magnificent tunic for the wedding.

CHORUS.[372] At Phanae,[373] near the Clepsydra,[374] there dwells a people who have neither faith nor law, the Englottogastors,[375] who reap, sow, pluck the vines and the figs[376] with their tongues; they belong to a barbaric race, and among them the Philippi and the Gorgiases[377] are to be found; 'tis these Englottogastorian Phillippi who introduced the custom all over Attica of cutting out the tongue separately at sacrifices.[378]

A MESSENGER. Oh, you, whose unbounded happiness I cannot express in words, thrice happy race of airy birds, receive your king in your fortunate dwellings. More brilliant than the brightest star that illumes the earth, he is approaching his glittering golden palace; the sun itself does not shine with more dazzling glory. He is entering with his bride at his side[379] whose beauty no human tongue can express; in his hand he brandishes the lightning, the winged shaft of Zeus; perfumes of unspeakable sweetness pervade the ethereal realms. 'Tis a glorious spectacle to see the clouds of incense wafting in light whirlwinds before the breath of the Zephyr! But here he is himself. Divine Muse! let thy sacred lips begin with songs of happy omen.

CHORUS. Fall back! to the right! to the left! advance![380] Fly around this happy mortal, whom Fortune loads with her blessings. Oh! oh! what grace! what beauty! Oh, marriage so auspicious for our city! All honour to this man! 'tis through him that the birds are called to such glorious destinies. Let your nuptial hymns, your nuptial songs, greet him and his Basileia! 'Twas in the midst of such festivities that the Fates formerly united Olympian Here to the King who governs the gods from the summit of his inaccessible throne. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus! Rosy Eros with the golden wings held the reins and guided the chariot; 'twas he, who presided over the union of Zeus and the fortunate Her. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

PISTHETAERUS. I am delighted with your songs, I applaud your verses. Now celebrate the thunder that shakes the earth, the flaming lightning of Zeus and the terrible flashing thunderbolt.

CHORUS. Oh, thou golden flash of the lightning! oh, ye divine shafts of flame, that Zeus has hitherto shot forth! Oh, ye rolling thunders, that bring down the rain! 'Tis by the order of our king that ye shall now stagger the earth! Oh, Hymen! 'tis through thee that he commands the universe and that he makes Basileia, whom he has robbed from Zeus, take her seat at his side. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

PISTHETAERUS. Let all the winged tribes of our fellow-citizens follow the bridal couple to the palace of Zeus[381] and to the nuptial couch! Stretch forth your hands, my dear wife! Take hold of me by my wings and let us dance; I am going to lift you up and carry you through the air.

CHORUS. Oh, joy! Io Paean! Tralala! victory is thine, oh, thou greatest of the gods!

* * * * *

FINIS OF "THE BIRDS"

* * * * *

Footnotes:

[175] Euelpides is holding a jay and Pisthetaerus a crow; they are the guides who are to lead them to the kingdom of the birds.

[176] A stranger, who wanted to pass as an Athenian, although coming originally from a far-away barbarian country.

[177] A king of Thrace, a son of Ares, who married Procn, the daughter of Pandion, King of Athens, whom he had assisted against the Megarians. He violated his sister-in-law, Philomela, and then cut out her tongue; she nevertheless managed to convey to her sister how she had been treated. They both agreed to kill Itys, whom Procn had born to Tereus, and dished up the limbs of his own son to the father; at the end of the meal Philomela appeared and threw the child's head upon the table. Tereus rushed with drawn sword upon the princesses, but all the actors in this terrible scene were metamorphised. Tereus became an Epops (hoopoe), Procn a swallow, Philomela a nightingale, and Itys a goldfinch. According to Anacreon and Apollodorus it was Procn who became the nightingale and Philomela the swallow, and this is the version of the tradition followed by Aristophanes.

[178] An Athenian who had some resemblance to a jay—so says the Scholiast, at any rate.

[179] Literally, to go to the crows, a proverbial expression equivalent to our going to the devil.

[180] They leave Athens because of their hatred of lawsuits and informers; this is the especial failing of the Athenians satirized in 'The Wasps.'

[181] Myrtle boughs were used in sacrifices, and the founding of every colony was started by a sacrifice.

[182] The actors wore masks made to resemble the birds they were supposed to represent.

[183] Fear had had disastrous effects upon Euelpides' internal economy, this his feet evidenced.

[184] The same mishap had occurred to Pisthetaerus.

[185] The Greek word for a wren, [Greek: trochilos], is derived from the same root as [Greek: trechein], to run.

[186] No doubt there was some scenery to represent a forest. Besides, there is a pun intended. The words answering for _forest_ and _door_ ([Greek: hul_e and thura]) in Greek only differ slightly in sound.

[187] Sophocles had written a tragedy about Tereus, in which, no doubt, the king finally appears as a hoopoe.

[188] A [Greek: para prosdokian]; one would expect the question to be "bird or man."—Are you a peacock? The hoopoe resembles the peacock inasmuch as both have crests.

[189] Athens.

[190] The Athenians were madly addicted to lawsuits. (Vide 'The Wasps.')

[191] As much as to say, Then you have such things as anti-dicasts? And Euelpides practically replies, Very few.

[192] His name was Aristocrates; he was a general and commanded a fleet sent in aid of Corcyra.

[193] The State galley, which carried the officials of the Athenian republic to their several departments and brought back those whose time had expired; it was this galley that was sent to Sicily to fetch back Alcibiades, who was accused of sacrilege.

[194] A tragic poet, who was a leper; there is a play, of course, on the Lepreum.

[195] An allusion to Opuntius, who was one-eyed.

[196] The newly-married ate a sesame cake, decorated with garlands of myrtle, poppies, and mint.

[197] From [Greek: polein], to turn.

[198] The Greek words for pole and city ([Greek: polos] and [Greek: polis]) only differ by a single letter.

[199] Boeotia separated Attica from Phocis.

[200] He swears by the powers that are to him dreadful.

[201] As already stated, according to the legend, accepted by Aristophanes, it was Procn who was turned into the nightingale.

[202] The son of Tereus and Procn.

[203] An African bird, that comes to the southern countries of Europe, to Greece, Italy, and Spain; it is even seen in Provence.

[204] Aristophanes amusingly mixes up real birds with people and individuals, whom he represents in the form of birds; he is personifying the Medians here.

[205] Philocles, a tragic poet, had written a tragedy on Tereus, which was simply a plagiarism of the play of the same name by Sophocles. Philocles is the son of Epops, because he got his inspiration from Sophocles' Tereus, and at the same time is father to Epops, since he himself produced another Tereus.

[206] This Hipponicus is probably the orator whose ears Alcibiades boxed to gain a bet; he was a descendant of Callias, who was famous for his hatred of Pisistratus.

[207] This Callias, who must not be confounded with the foe of Pisistratus, had ruined himself.

[208] Cleonymus had cast away his shield; he was as great a glutton as he was a coward.

[209] A race in which the track had to be circled twice.

[210] A people of Asia Minor; when pursued by the Ionians they took refuge in the mountains.

[211] An Athenian barber.

[212] The owl was dedicated to Athen, and being respected at Athens, it had greatly multiplied. Hence the proverb, taking owls to Athens, similar to our English taking coals to Newcastle.

[213] An allusion to the Feast of Pots; it was kept at Athens on the third day of the Anthesteria, when all sorts of vegetables were stewed together and offered for the dead to Bacchus and Athen. This Feast was peculiar to Athens.—Hence Pisthetaerus thinks that the owl will recognize they are Athenians by seeing the stew-pots, and as he is an Athenian bird, he will not attack them.

[214] Nicias, the famous Athenian general.—The siege of Melos in 417 B.C., or two years previous to the production of 'The Birds,' had especially done him great credit. He was joint commander of the Sicilian expedition.

[215] Procn, the daughter of Pandion, King of Athens.

[216] A space beyond the walls of Athens which contained the gardens of the Academy and the graves of citizens who had died for their country.

[217] A town in Western Argolis, where the Athenians had been recently defeated. The somewhat similar word in Greek, [Greek: ornithes], signifies birds.

[218] Epops is addressing the two slaves, no doubt Xanthias and Manes, who are mentioned later on.

[219] It was customary, when speaking in public and also at feasts, to wear a chaplet; hence the question Euelpides puts. The guests wore chaplets of flowers, herbs, and leaves, which had the property of being refreshing.

[220] A deme of Attica. In Greek the word ([Greek: kephalai]) also means heads, and hence the pun.

[221] One of Darius' best generals. After his expedition against the Scythians, this prince gave him the command of the army which he left in Europe. Megabyzus took Perinthos (afterwards called Heraclea) and conquered Thrace.

[222] All Persians wore the tiara, but always on one side; the Great King alone wore it straight on his head.

[223] Noted as the birthplace of Thucydides, a deme of Attica of the tribe of Leontis. Demosthenes tells us it was thirty-five stadia from Athens.

[224] The appearance of the kite in Greece betokened the return of springtime; it was therefore worshipped as a symbol of that season.

[225] To look at the kite, who no doubt was flying high in the sky.

[226] As already shown, the Athenians were addicted to carrying small coins in their mouths.—This obolus was for the purpose of buying flour to fill the bag he was carrying.

[227] In Phoenicia and Egypt the cuckoo makes its appearance about harvest-time.

[228] This was an Egyptian proverb, meaning, When the cuckoo sings we go harvesting. Both the Phoenicians and the Egyptians practised circumcision.

[229] The staff, called a sceptre, generally terminated in a piece of carved work, representing a flower, a fruit, and most often a bird.

[230] A general accused of treachery. The bird watches Lysicrates, because, according to Pisthetaerus, he had a right to a share of the presents.

[231] It is thus that Phidias represents his Olympian Zeus.

[232] One of the diviners sent to Sybaris (in Magna Graecia, S. Italy) with the Athenian colonists, who rebuilt the town under the new name of Thurium.

[233] As if he were saying, "Oh, gods!" Like Lampon, he swears by the birds, instead of swearing by the gods.—The names of these birds are those of two of the Titans.

[234] Alcmena, wife of Amphitryon, King of Thebes and mother of Heracles.—Semel, the daughter of Cadmus and Hermion and mother of Bacchus; both seduced by Zeus.—Alop, daughter of Cercyon, a robber, who reigned at Eleusis and was conquered by Perseus. Alop was honoured with Posidon's caresses; by him she had a son named Hippothous, at first brought up by shepherds but who afterwards was restored to the throne of his grandfather by Theseus.

[235] Because the bald patch on the coot's head resembles the shaven and depilated 'motte.'

[236] Because water is the duck's domain, as it is that of Posidon.

[237] Because the gull, like Heracles, is voracious.

[238] The Germans still call it Zaunknig and the French roitelet, both names thus containing the idea of king.

[239] The Scholiast draws our attention to the fact that Homer says this of Her and not of Iris (Iliad, V. 778); it is only another proof that the text of Homer has reached us in a corrupted form, or it may be that Aristophanes was liable, like other people, to occasional mistakes of quotation.

[240] In sacrifices.

[241] An Athenian proverb.

[242] A celebrated temple to Zeus in an oasis of Libya.

[243] Nicias was commander, along with Demosthenes, and later on Alcibiades, of the Athenian forces before Syracuse, in the ill-fated Sicilian Expedition, 415-413 B.C. He was much blamed for dilatoriness and indecision.

[244] Servants of Pisthetaerus and Euelpides.

[245] It has already been mentioned that, according to the legend followed by Aristophanes, Procn had been changed into a nightingale and Philomela into a swallow.

[246] The actor, representing Procn, was dressed out as a courtesan, but wore the mask of a bird.

[247] Young unmarried girls wore golden ornaments; the apparel of married women was much simpler.

[248] The actor, representing Procn, was a flute-player.

[249] The parabasis.

[250] A sophist of the island of Ceos, a disciple of Protagoras, as celebrated for his knowledge as for his eloquence. The Athenians condemned him to death as a corrupter of youth in 396 B.C.

[251] Lovers were wont to make each other presents of birds. The cock and the goose are mentioned, of course, in jest.

[252] i.e. that it gave notice of the approach of winter, during which season the Ancients did not venture to sea.

[253] A notorious robber.

[254] Meaning, "We are your oracles."—Dodona was an oracle in Epirus.—The temple of Zeus there was surrounded by a dense forest, all the trees of which were endowed with the gift of prophecy; both the sacred oaks and the pigeons that lived in them answered the questions of those who came to consult the oracle in pure Greek.

[255] The Greek word for omen is the same as that for bird—[Greek: ornis].

[256] A satire on the passion of the Greeks for seeing an omen in everything.

[257] An imitation of the nightingale's song.

[258] God of the groves and wilds.

[259] The 'Mother of the Gods'; roaming the mountains, she held dances, always attended by Pan and his accompanying rout of Fauns and Satyrs.

[260] An allusion to cock-fighting; the birds are armed with brazen spurs.

[261] An allusion to the spots on this bird, which resemble the scars left by a branding iron.

[262] He was of Asiatic origin, but wished to pass for an Athenian.

[263] Or Philamnon, King of Thrace; the Scholiast remarks that the Phrygians and the Thracians had a common origin.

[264] The Greek word here, [Greek: pappos], is also the name of a little bird.

[265] A basket-maker who had become rich.—The Phylarchs were the headmen of the tribes, [Greek: Phulai]. They presided at the private assemblies and were charged with the management of the treasury.—The Hipparchs, as the name implies, were the leaders of the cavalry; there were only two of these in the Athenian army.

[266] He had now become a senator, member of the [Greek: Boul_e].

[267] Pisthetaerus and Euelpides now both return with wings.

[268] Meaning, 'tis we who wanted to have these wings.—The verse from Aeschylus, quoted here, is taken from 'The Myrmidons,' a tragedy of which only a few fragments remain.

[269] The Greek word signified the city of Sparta, and also a kind of broom used for weaving rough matting, which served for the beds of the very poor.

[270] A fanciful name constructed from [Greek: nephel_e], a cloud, and [Greek: kokkux], a cuckoo; thus a city of clouds and cuckoos.—_Wolkenkukelheim_[*] is a clever approximation in German. Cloud-cuckoo-town, perhaps, is the best English equivalent.

[* Transcriber's note: So in original. The correct German word is Wolkenkuckucksheim.]

[271] He was a boaster nicknamed [Greek: Kapnos], smoke, because he promised a great deal and never kept his word.

[272] Also mentioned in 'The Wasps.'

[273] Because the war of the Titans against the gods was only a fiction of the poets.

[274] A sacred cloth, with which the statue of Athen in the Acropolis was draped.

[275] Meaning, to be patron-goddess of the city. Athen had a temple of this name.

[276] An Athenian effeminate, frequently ridiculed by Aristophanes.

[277] This was the name of the wall surrounding the Acropolis.

[278] i.e. the fighting-cock.

[279] To waken the sentinels, who might else have fallen asleep.—There are several merry contradictions in the various parts of this list of injunctions.

[280] In allusion to the leather strap which flute-players wore to constrict the cheeks and add to the power of the breath. The performer here no doubt wore a raven's mask.

[281] Hellanicus, the Mitylenian historian, tells that this surname of Artemis is derived from Colaenus, King of Athens before Cecrops and a descendant of Hermes. In obedience to an oracle he erected a temple to the goddess, invoking her as Artemis Colaenis (the Artemis of Colaenus).

[282] This Cleocritus, says the Scholiast, was long-necked and strutted like an ostrich.

[283] The Chians were the most faithful allies of Athens, and hence their name was always mentioned in prayers, decrees, etc.

[284] Verses sung by maidens.

[285] This ceremony took place on the tenth day after birth, and may be styled the pagan baptism.

[286] Hiero, tyrant of Syracuse.—This passage is borrowed from Pindar.

[287] [Greek: Hiern] in Greek means sacrifice.

[288] A parody of poetic pathos, not to say bathos.

[289] Which the priest was preparing to sacrifice.

[290] Orneae, a city in Argolis ([Greek: ornis] in Greek means a bird). It was because of this similarity in sound that the prophet alludes to Orneae.

[291] Noted Athenian diviner, who, when the power was still shared between Thucydides and Pericles, predicted that it would soon be centred in the hands of the latter; his ground for this prophecy was the sight of a ram with a single horn.

[292] No doubt another Athenian diviner, and possibly the same person whom Aristophanes names in 'The Knights' and 'The Wasps' as being a thief.

[293] A celebrated geometrician and astronomer.

[294] A deme contiguous to Athens. It is as though he said, "Well known throughout all England and at Croydon."

[295] Thales was no less famous as a geometrician than he was as a sage.

[296] Officers of Athens, whose duty was to protect strangers who came on political or other business, and see to their interests generally.

[297] He addresses the inspector thus because of the royal and magnificent manners he assumes.

[298] Magistrates appointed to inspect the tributary towns.

[299] A much-despised citizen, already mentioned. He ironically supposes him invested with the powers of an Archon, which ordinarily were entrusted only to men of good repute.

[300] A Persian satrap.—An allusion to certain orators, who, bribed with Asiatic gold, had often defended the interests of the foe in the Public Assembly.

[301] A Macedonian people in the peninsula of Chalcidic. This name is chosen because of its similarity to the Greek word [Greek: olophuresthai], to groan. It is from another verb, [Greek: ototuzein], meaning the same thing, that Pisthetaerus coins the name of Ototyxians, i.e. groaners, because he is about to beat the dealer.—The mother-country had the right to impose any law it chose upon its colonies.

[302] Corresponding to our month of April.

[303] Which the inspector had brought with him for the purpose of inaugurating the assemblies of the people or some tribunal.

[304] So that the sacrifices might no longer be interrupted.

[305] A disciple of Democrites; he passed over from superstition to atheism. The injustice and perversity of mankind led him to deny the existence of the gods, to lay bare the mysteries and to break the idols. The Athenians had put a price on his head, so he left Greece and perished soon afterwards in a storm at sea.

[306] By this jest Aristophanes means to imply that tyranny is dead, and that no one aspires to despotic power, though this silly accusation was constantly being raised by the demagogues and always favourably received by the populace.

[307] A poulterer.—Strouthian, used in joke to designate him, as if from the name of his 'deme,' is derived from [Greek: strouthos], a sparrow. The birds' foe is thus grotesquely furnished with an ornithological surname.

[308] From Aphrodit (Venus), to whom he had awarded the apple, prize of beauty, in the contest of the "goddesses three."

[309] Laurium was an Athenian deme at the extremity of the Attic peninsula containing valuable silver mines, the revenues of which were largely employed in the maintenance of the fleet and payment of the crews. The "owls of Laurium," of course, mean pieces of money; the Athenian coinage was stamped with a representation of an owl, the bird of Athen.

[310] A pun impossible to keep in English, on the two meanings of the word [Greek: aetos], which signifies both an eagle and the gable of a house or pediment of a temple.

[311] That is, birds' crops, into which they could stow away plenty of good things.

[312] The Ancients appear to have placed metal discs over statues standing in the open air, to save them from injury from the weather, etc.

[313] So as not to be carried away by the wind when crossing the sea, cranes are popularly supposed to ballast themselves with stones, which they carry in their beaks.

[314] Pisthetaerus modifies the Greek proverbial saying, "To what use cannot hands be put?"

[315] A corps of Athenian cavalry was so named.

[316] Chaos, Night, Tartarus, and Erebus alone existed in the beginning; Eros was born from Night and Erebus, and he wedded Chaos and begot Earth, Air, and Heaven; so runs the fable.

[317] Iris appears from the top of the stage and arrests her flight in mid-career.

[318] Ship, because of her wings, which resemble oars; cap, because she no doubt wore the head-dress (as a messenger of the gods) with which Hermes is generally depicted.

[319] The names of the two sacred galleys which carried Athenian officials on State business.

[320] A buzzard is named in order to raise a laugh, the Greek name [Greek: triorchos] also meaning, etymologically, provided with three testicles, vigorous in love.

[321] Iris' reply is a parody of the tragic style.—'Lycimnius' is, according to the Scholiast, the title of a tragedy by Euripides, which is about a ship that is struck by lightning.

[322] i.e. for a poltroon, like the slaves, most of whom came to Athens from these countries.

[323] A parody of a passage in the lost tragedy of 'Niobe' of Aeschylus.

[324] Because this bird has a spotted plumage.—Porphyrion is also the name of one of the Titans who tried to storm heaven.

[325] All these surnames bore some relation to the character or the build of the individual to whom the poet applies them.—Chaerephon, Socrates' disciple, was of white and ashen hue.—Opontius was one-eyed.—Syracosius was a braggart.—Midias had a passion for quail-fights, and, besides, resembled that bird physically.

[326] Pisthetaerus' servant, already mentioned.

[327] From the inspection of which auguries were taken, e.g. the eagles, the vultures, the crows.

[328] Or rather, a young man who contemplated parricide.

[329] A parody of verses in Sophocles' 'Oenomaus.'

[330] The Athenians were then besieging Amphipolis in the Thracian Chalcidic.

[331] There was a real Cinesias—a dithyrambic poet, born at Thebes.

[332] The Scholiast thinks that Cinesias, who was tall and slight of build, wore a kind of corset of lime-wood to support his waist—surely rather a far-fetched interpretation!

[333] The Greek word used here was the word of command employed to stop the rowers.

[334] Cinesias makes a bound each time that Pisthetaerus struck him.

[335] The tribes of Athens, or rather the rich citizens belonging to them, were wont on feast-days to give representations of dithyrambic choruses as well as of tragedies and comedies.

[336] Another dithyrambic poet, a man of extreme leanness.

[337] A parody of a hemistich from 'Alcaeus.'—The informer is dissatisfied at only seeing birds of sombre plumage and poor appearance. He would have preferred to denounce the rich.

[338] The informer, says the Scholiast, was clothed with a ragged cloak, the tatters of which hung down like wings, in fact, a cloak that could not protect him from the cold and must have made him long for the swallows' return, i.e. the spring.

[339] A town in Achaia, where woollen cloaks were made.

[340] His trade was to accuse the rich citizens of the subject islands, and drag them before the Athenian courts; he explains later the special advantages of this branch of the informer's business.

[341] That is, whips—Corcyra being famous for these articles.

[342] Cleonymus is a standing butt of Aristophanes' wit, both as an informer and a notorious poltroon.

[343] In allusion to the cave of the bandit Orestes; the poet terms him a hero only because of his heroic name Orestes.

[344] Prometheus wants night to come and so reduce the risk of being seen from Olympus.

[345] The clouds would prevent Zeus seeing what was happening below him.

[346] The third day of the festival of Demeter was a fast.

[347] A semi-savage people, addicted to violence and brigandage.

[348] Who, being reputed a stranger despite his pretension to the title of a citizen, could only have a strange god for his patron or tutelary deity.

[349] The Triballi were a Thracian people; it was a term commonly used in Athens to describe coarse men, obscene debauchees and greedy parasites.

[350] There is a similar pun in the Greek.

[351] i.e. the supremacy of Greece, the real object of the war.

[352] Prometheus had stolen the fire from the gods to gratify mankind.

[353] A celebrated misanthrope, contemporary to Aristophanes. Hating the society of men, he had only a single friend, Apimantus, to whom he was attached, because of their similarity of character; he also liked Alcibiades, because he foresaw that this young man would be the ruin of his country.

[354] The Canephori were young maidens, chosen from the first families of the city, who carried baskets wreathed with myrtle at the feast of Athen, while at those of Bacchus and Demeter they appeared with gilded baskets.—The daughters of 'Metics,' or resident aliens, walked behind them, carrying an umbrella and a stool.

[355] According to Ctesias, the Sciapodes were a people who dwelt on the borders of the Atlantic. Their feet were larger than the rest of their bodies, and to shield themselves from the sun's rays they held up one of their feet as an umbrella.—By giving the Socratic philosophers the name of Sciapodes here ([Greek: podes], feet, and [Greek: skia], shadow) Aristophanes wishes to convey that they are walking in the dark and busying themselves with the greatest nonsense.

[356] This Pisander was a notorious coward; for this reason the poet jestingly supposes that he had lost his soul, the seat of courage.

[357] A [Greek: para prosdokian], considering the shape and height of the camel, which can certainly not be included in the list of small victims, e.g. the sheep and the goat.

[358] In the evocation of the dead, Book XI of the Odyssey.

[359] Chaerephon was given this same title by the Herald earlier in this comedy.—Aristophanes supposes him to have come from hell because he is lean and pallid.

[360] Posidon appears on the stage accompanied by Heracles and a Triballian god.

[361] An Athenian general.—Neptune is trying to give Triballus some notions of elegance and good behaviour.

[362] Aristophanes supposes that democracy is in the ascendant in Olympus as it is in Athens.

[363] He is addressing his servant, Manes.

[364] Heracles softens at sight of the food.—Heracles is the glutton of the comic poets.

[365] He pretends not to have seen them at first, being so much engaged with his cookery.

[366] He pretends to forget the presence of the ambassadors.

[367] Posidon jestingly swears by himself.

[368] The barbarian god utters some gibberish which Pisthetaerus interprets into consent.

[369] Heracles, the god of strength, was far from being remarkable in the way of cleverness.

[370] This was Athenian law.

[371] The poet attributes to the gods the same customs as those which governed Athens, and according to which no child was looked upon as legitimate unless his father had entered him on the registers of his phratria. The phratria was a division of the tribe and consisted of thirty families.

[372] The chorus continues to tell what it has seen on its flights.

[373] The harbour of the island of Chios; but this name is here used in the sense of being the land of informers ([Greek: phainein], to denounce).

[374] i.e. near the orators' platform, or [Greek: Bema], in the Public Assembly, or [Greek: Ekklesia], because there stood the [Greek: klepsudra], or water-clock, by which speeches were limited.

[375] A coined name, made up of [Greek: glotta], the tongue, and [Greek: gaster], the stomach, and meaning those who fill their stomach with what they gain with their tongues, to wit, the orators.

[376] [Greek: Sukon] a fig, forms part of the word, [Greek: sukophant_es], which in Greek means an informer.

[377] Both rhetoricians.

[378] Because they consecrated it specially to the god of eloquence.

[379] Basileia, whom he brings back from heaven.

[380] Terms used in regulating a dance.

[381] Where Pisthetaerus is henceforth to reign.



THE FROGS



INTRODUCTION

Like 'The Birds' this play rather avoids politics than otherwise, its leading motif, over and above the pure fun and farce for their own sake of the burlesque descent into the infernal regions, being a literary one, an onslaught on Euripides the Tragedian and all his works and ways.

It was produced in the year 405 B.C., the year after 'The Birds,' and only one year before the Peloponnesian War ended disastrously for the Athenian cause in the capture of the city by Lysander. First brought out at the Lenaean festival in January, it was played a second time at the Dionysia in March of the same year—a far from common honour. The drama was not staged in the Author's own name, we do not know for what reasons, but it won the first prize, Phrynichus' 'Muses' being second.

The plot is as follows. The God Dionysus, patron of the Drama, is dissatisfied with the condition of the Art of Tragedy at Athens, and resolves to descend to Hades in order to bring back again to earth one of the old tragedians—Euripides, he thinks, for choice. Dressing himself up, lion's skin and club complete, as Heracles, who has performed the same perilous journey before, and accompanied by his slave Xanthias (a sort of classical Sancho Panza) with the baggage, he starts on the fearful expedition.

Coming to the shores of Acheron, he is ferried over in Charon's boat—Xanthias has to walk round—the First Chorus of Marsh Frogs (from which the play takes its title) greeting him with prolonged croakings. Approaching Pluto's Palace in fear and trembling, he knocks timidly at the gate. Being presently admitted, he finds a contest on the point of being held before the King of Hades and the Initiates of the Eleusinian Mysteries, who form the Second Chorus, between Aeschylus, the present occupant of the throne of tragic excellence in hell, and the pushing, self-satisfied, upstart Euripides, who is for ousting him from his pride of place.

Each poet quotes in turn from his Dramas, and the indignant Aeschylus makes fine fun of his rival's verses, and shows him up in the usual Aristophanic style as a corrupter of morals, a contemptible casuist, and a professor of the dangerous new learning of the Sophists, so justly held in suspicion by true-blue Athenian Conservatives. Eventually a pair of scales is brought in, and verses alternately spouted by the two candidates are weighed against each other, the mighty lines of the Father of Tragedy making his flippant, finickin little rival's scale kick the beam every time.

Dionysus becomes a convert to the superior merits of the old school of tragedy, and contemptuously dismisses Euripides, to take Aeschylus back with him to the upper world instead, leaving Sophocles meantime in occupation of the coveted throne of tragedy in the nether regions.

Needless to say, the various scenes of the journey to Hades, the crossing of Acheron, the Frogs' choric songs, and the trial before Pluto, afford opportunities for much excellent fooling in our Author's very finest vein of drollery, and "seem to have supplied the original idea for those modern burlesques upon the Olympian and Tartarian deities which were at one time so popular."

* * * * *

THE FROGS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

DIONYSUS. XANTHIAS, his Servant. HERACLES. A DEAD MAN. CHARON. AEACUS. FEMALE ATTENDANT OF PERSEPHON. INKEEPERS' WIVES. EURIPIDES. AESCHYLUS. PLUTO. CHORUS OF FROGS. CHORUS OF INITIATES.

SCENE: In front of the temple of Heracles, and on the banks of Acheron in the Infernal Regions.

* * * * *

THE FROGS

XANTHIAS. Now am I to make one of those jokes that have the knack of always making the spectators laugh?

DIONYSUS. Aye, certainly, any one you like, excepting "I am worn out." Take care you don't say that, for it gets on my nerves.

XANTHIAS. Do you want some other drollery?

DIONYSUS. Yes, only not, "I am quite broken up."

XANTHIAS. Then what witty thing shall I say?

DIONYSUS. Come, take courage; only ...

XANTHIAS. Only what?

DIONYSUS. ... don't start saying as you shift your package from shoulder to shoulder, "Ah! that's a relief!"

XANTHIAS. May I not at least say, that unless I am relieved of this cursed load I shall let wind?

DIONYSUS. Oh! for pity's sake, no! you don't want to make me spew.

XANTHIAS. What need then had I to take this luggage, if I must not copy the porters that Phrynichus, Lycis and Amipsias[382] never fail to put on the stage?

DIONYSUS. Do nothing of the kind. Whenever I chance to see one of these stage tricks, I always leave the theatre feeling a good year older.

XANTHIAS. Oh! my poor back! you are broken and I am not allowed to make a single joke.

DIONYSUS. Just mark the insolence of this Sybarite! I, Dionysus, the son of a ... wine-jar,[383] I walk, I tire myself, and I set yonder rascal upon an ass, that he may not have the burden of carrying his load.

XANTHIAS. But am I not carrying it?

DIONYSUS. No, since you are on your beast.

XANTHIAS. Nevertheless I am carrying this....

DIONYSUS. What?

XANTHIAS. ... and it is very heavy.

DIONYSUS. But this burden you carry is borne by the ass.

XANTHIAS. What I have here, 'tis certainly I who bear it, and not the ass, no, by all the gods, most certainly not!

DIONYSUS. How can you claim to be carrying it, when you are carried?

XANTHIAS. That I can't say; but this shoulder is broken, anyhow.

DIONYSUS. Well then, since you say that the ass is no good to you, pick her up in your turn and carry her.

XANTHIAS. What a pity I did not fight at sea;[384] I would baste your ribs for that joke.

DIONYSUS. Dismount, you clown! Here is a door,[385] at which I want to make my first stop. Hi! slave! hi! hi! slave!

HERACLES (from inside the Temple). Do you want to beat in the door? He knocks like a Centaur.[386] Why, what's the matter?

DIONYSUS. Xanthias!

XANTHIAS. Well?

DIONYSUS. Did you notice?

XANTHIAS. What?

DIONYSUS. How I frightened him?

XANTHIAS. Bah! you're mad!

HERACLES. Ho, by Demeter! I cannot help laughing; it's no use biting my lips, I must laugh.

DIONYSUS. Come out, friend; I have need of you.

HERACLES. Oh! 'tis enough to make a fellow hold his sides to see this lion's-skin over a saffron robe![387] What does this mean? Buskins[388] and a bludgeon! What connection have they? Where are you off to in this rig?

DIONYSUS. When I went aboard Clisthenes[389]....

HERACLES. Did you fight?

DIONYSUS. We sank twelve or thirteen ships of the enemy.

HERACLES. You?

DIONYSUS. Aye, by Apollo!

HERACLES. You have dreamt it.[390]

DIONYSUS. As I was reading the 'Andromeda'[391] on the ship, I suddenly felt my heart afire with a wish so violent....

HERACLES. A wish! of what nature?

DIONYSUS. Oh, quite small, like Molon.[392]

HERACLES. You wished for a woman?

DIONYSUS. No.

HERACLES. A young boy, then?

DIONYSUS. Nothing of the kind.

HERACLES. A man?

DIONYSUS. Faugh!

HERACLES. Might you then have had dealings with Clisthenes?

DIONYSUS. Have mercy, brother; no mockery! I am quite ill, so greatly does my desire torment me!

HERACLES. And what desire is it, little brother?

DIONYSUS. I cannot disclose it, but I will convey it to you by hints. Have you ever been suddenly seized with a desire for pea-soup?

HERACLES. For pea-soup! oh! oh! yes, a thousand times in my life.[393]

DIONYSUS. Do you take me or shall I explain myself in some other way?

HERACLES. Oh! as far as the pea-soup is concerned, I understand marvellously well.

DIONYSUS. So great is the desire, which devours me, for Euripides.

HERACLES. But he is dead.[394]

DIONYSUS. There is no human power can prevent my going to him.

HERACLES. To the bottom of Hades?

DIONYSUS. Aye, and further than the bottom, an it need.

HERACLES. And what do you want with him?

DIONYSUS. I want a master poet; "some are dead and gone, and others are good for nothing."[395]

HERACLES. Is Iophon[396] dead then?

DIONYSUS. He is the only good one left me, and even of him I don't know quite what to think.

HERACLES. Then there's Sophocles, who is greater than Euripides; if you must absolutely bring someone back from Hades, why not make him live again?

DIONYSUS. No, not until I have taken Iophon by himself and tested him for what he is worth. Besides, Euripides is very artful and won't leave a stone unturned to get away with me, whereas Sophocles is as easy-going with Pluto as he was when on earth.

HERACLES. And Agathon? Where is he?[397]

DIONYSUS. He has left me; 'twas a good poet and his friends regret him.

HERACLES. And whither has the poor fellow gone?

DIONYSUS. To the banquet of the blest.

HERACLES. And Xenocles?[398]

DIONYSUS. May the plague seize him!

HERACLES. And Pythangelus?[399]

XANTHIAS. They don't say ever a word of poor me, whose shoulder is quite shattered.

HERACLES. Is there not a crowd of other little lads, who produce tragedies by the thousand and are a thousand times more loquacious than Euripides?

DIONYSUS. They are little sapless twigs, chatterboxes, who twitter like the swallows, destroyers of the art, whose aptitude is withered with a single piece and who sputter forth all their talent to the tragic Muse at their first attempt. But look where you will, you will not find a creative poet who gives vent to a noble thought.

HERACLES. How creative?

DIONYSUS. Aye, creative, who dares to risk "the ethereal dwellings of Zeus," or "the wing of Time," or "a heart that is above swearing by the sacred emblems," and "a tongue that takes an oath, while yet the soul is unpledged."[400]

HERACLES. Is that the kind of thing that pleases you?

DIONYSUS. I'm more than madly fond of it.

HERACLES. But such things are simply idiotic, you feel it yourself.

DIONYSUS. "Don't come trespassing on my mind; you have a brain of your own to keep thoughts in."[401]

HERACLES. But nothing could be more detestable.

DIONYSUS. Where cookery is concerned, you can be my master.[402]

XANTHIAS. They don't say a thing about me!

DIONYSUS. If I have decked myself out according to your pattern, 'tis that you may tell me, in case I should need them, all about the hosts who received you, when you journeyed to Cerberus; tell me of them as well as of the harbours, the bakeries, the brothels, the drinking-shops, the fountains, the roads, the eating-houses and of the hostels where there are the fewest bugs.

XANTHIAS. They never speak of me.[403]

HERACLES. Go down to hell? Will you be ready to dare that, you madman?

DIONYSUS. Enough of that; but tell me the shortest road, that is neither too hot nor too cold, to get down to Pluto.

HERACLES. Let me see, what is the best road to show you? Aye, which? Ah! there's the road of the gibbet and the rope. Go and hang yourself.

DIONYSUS. Be silent! your road is choking me.

HERACLES. There is another path, both very short and well-trodden; the one that goes through the mortar.[404]

DIONYSUS. 'Tis hemlock you mean to say.

HERACLES. Precisely so.

DIONYSUS. That road is both cold and icy. Your legs get frozen at once.[405]

HERACLES. Do you want me to tell you a very steep road, one that descends very quickly?

DIONYSUS. Ah! with all my heart; I don't like long walks.

HERACLES. Go to the Ceramicus.[406]

DIONYSUS. And then?

HERACLES. Mount to the top of the highest tower ...

DIONYSUS. To do what?

HERACLES. ... and there keep your eye on the torch, which is to be the signal. When the spectators demand it to be flung, fling yourself ...

DIONYSUS. Where?

HERACLES. ... down.

DIONYSUS. But I should break the two hemispheres of my brain. Thanks for your road, but I don't want it.

HERACLES. But which one then?

DIONYSUS. The one you once travelled yourself.

HERACLES. Ah! that's a long journey. First you will reach the edge of the vast, deep mere of Acheron.

DIONYSUS. And how is that to be crossed?

HERACLES. There is an ancient ferryman, Charon by name, who will pass you over in his little boat for a diobolus.

DIONYSUS. Oh! what might the diobolus has everywhere! But however has it got as far as that?

HERACLES. 'Twas Theseus who introduced its vogue.[407] After that you will see snakes and all sorts of fearful monsters ...

DIONYSUS. Oh! don't try to frighten me and make me afraid, for I am quite decided.

HERACLES. ... then a great slough with an eternal stench, a veritable cesspool, into which those are plunged who have wronged a guest, cheated a young boy out of the fee for his complaisance, beaten their mother, boxed their father's ears, taken a false oath or transcribed some tirade of Morsimus.[408]

DIONYSUS. For mercy's sake, add likewise—or learnt the Pyrrhic dance of Cinesias.[409]

HERACLES. Further on 'twill be a gentle concert of flutes on every side, a brilliant light, just as there is here, myrtle groves, bands of happy men and women and noisy plaudits.

DIONYSUS. Who are these happy folk?

HERACLES. The initiate.[410]

XANTHIAS. And I am the ass that carries the Mysteries;[411] but I've had enough of it.

HERACLES. They will give you all the information you will need, for they live close to Pluto's palace, indeed on the road that leads to it. Farewell, brother, and an agreeable journey to you. (He returns into his Temple.)

DIONYSUS. And you, good health. Slave! take up your load again.

XANTHIAS. Before having laid it down?

DIONYSUS. And be quick about it too.

XANTHIAS. Oh, no, I adjure you! Rather hire one of the dead, who is going to Hades.

DIONYSUS. And should I not find one....

XANTHIAS. Then you can take me.

DIONYSUS. You talk sense. Ah! here they are just bringing a dead man along. Hi! man, 'tis you I'm addressing, you, dead fellow there! Will you carry a package to Pluto for me?

DEAD MAN. Is't very heavy?

DIONYSUS. This. (He shows him the baggage, which Xanthias has laid on the ground.)

DEAD MAN. You will pay me two drachmae.

DIONYSUS. Oh! that's too dear.

DEAD MAN. Well then, bearers, move on.

DIONYSUS. Stay, friend, so that I may bargain with you.

DEAD MAN. Give me two drachmae, or it's no deal.

DIONYSUS. Hold! here are nine obols.

DEAD MAN. I would sooner go back to earth again.

XANTHIAS. Is that cursed rascal putting on airs? Come, then, I'll go.

DIONYSUS. You're a good and noble fellow. Let us make the best of our way to the boat.

CHARON. Ahoy, ahoy! put ashore.

XANTHIAS. What's that?

DIONYSUS. Why, by Zeus, 'tis the mere of which Heracles spoke, and I see the boat.

XANTHIAS. Ah! there's Charon.

DIONYSUS. Hail! Charon.

DEAD MAN. Hail! Charon.

CHARON. Who comes hither from the home of cares and misfortunes to rest on the banks of Leth? Who comes to the ass's fleece, who is for the land of the Cerberians, or the crows, or Taenarus?

DIONYSUS. I am.

CHARON. Get aboard quick then.

DIONYSUS. Where will you ferry me to? Where are you going to land me?

CHARON. In hell, if you wish. But step in, do.

DIONYSUS. Come here, slave.

CHARON. I carry no slave, unless he has fought at sea to save his skin.

XANTHIAS. But I could not, for my eyes were bad.

CHARON. Well then! be off and walk round the mere.

XANTHIAS. Where shall I come to a halt?

CHARON. At the stone of Auaenus, near the drinking-shop.

DIONYSUS. Do you understand?

XANTHIAS. Perfectly. Oh! unhappy wretch that I am, surely, surely I must have met something of evil omen as I came out of the house?[412]

CHARON. Come, sit to your oar. If there be anyone else who wants to cross, let him hurry. Hullo! what are you doing?

DIONYSUS. What am I doing? I am sitting on the oar[413] as you told me.

CHARON. Will you please have the goodness to place yourself there, pot-belly?

DIONYSUS. There.

CHARON. Put out your hands, stretch your arms.

DIONYSUS. There.

CHARON. No tomfoolery! row hard, and put some heart into the work!

DIONYSUS. Row! and how can I? I, who have never set foot on a ship?

CHARON. There's nothing easier; and once you're at work, you will hear some enchanting singers.

DIONYSUS. Who are they?

CHARON. Frogs with the voices of swans; 'tis most delightful.

DIONYSUS. Come, set the stroke.

CHARON. Yo ho! yo ho!

FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax, brekekekekex, coax. Slimy offspring of the marshland, let our harmonious voices mingle with the sounds of the flute, coax, coax! let us repeat the songs that we sing in honour of the Nysaean Dionysus[414] on the day of the feast of pots,[415] when the drunken throng reels towards our temple in the Limnae.[416] Brekekekex, coax, coax.

DIONYSUS. I am beginning to feel my bottom getting very sore, my dear little coax, coax.

FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.

DIONYSUS. But doubtless you don't care.

FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.

DIONYSUS. May you perish with your coax, your endless coax!

FROGS. And why change it, you great fool? I am beloved by the Muses with the melodious lyre, by the goat-footed Pan, who draws soft tones out of his reed; I am the delight of Apollo, the god of the lyre, because I make the rushes, which are used for the bridge of the lyre, grow in my marshes. Brekekekex, coax, coax.

DIONYSUS. I have got blisters and my behind is all of a sweat; by dint of constant movement, it will soon be saying....

FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.

DIONYSUS. Come, race of croakers, be quiet.

FROGS. Not we; we shall only cry the louder. On fine sunny days, it pleases us to hop through galingale and sedge and to sing while we swim; and when Zeus is pouring down his rain, we join our lively voices to the rustle of the drops. Brekekekex, coax, coax.

DIONYSUS. I forbid you to do it.

FROGS. Oh! that would be too hard!

DIONYSUS. And is it not harder for me to wear myself out with rowing?

FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.

DIONYSUS. May you perish! I don't care.

FROGS. And from morning till night we will shriek with the whole width of our gullets, "Brekekekex, coax, coax."

DIONYSUS. I will cry louder than you all.

FROGS. Oh! don't do that!

DIONYSUS. Oh, yes, I will. I shall cry the whole day, if necessary, until I no longer hear your coax. (He begins to cry against the frogs, who finally stop.) Ah! I knew I would soon put an end to your coax.

CHARON. Enough, enough, a last pull, ship oars, step ashore and pay your passage money.

DIONYSUS. Look! here are my two obols.... Xanthias! where is Xanthias? Hi! Xanthias!

XANTHIAS (from a distance). Hullo!

DIONYSUS. Come here.

XANTHIAS. I greet you, master.

DIONYSUS. What is there that way?

XANTHIAS. Darkness and mud!

DIONYSUS. Did you see the parricides and the perjured he told us of?

XANTHIAS. Did you?

DIONYSUS. Ha! by Posidon! I see some of them now.[417] Well, what are we going to do?

XANTHIAS. The best is to go on, for 'tis here that the horrible monsters are, Heracles told us of.

DIONYSUS. Ah! the wag! He spun yarns to frighten me, but I am a brave fellow and he is jealous of me. There exists no greater braggart than Heracles. Ah! I wish I might meet some monster, so as to distinguish myself by some deed of daring worthy of my daring journey.

XANTHIAS. Ah! hark! I hear a noise.

DIONYSUS (all of a tremble). Where then, where?

XANTHIAS. Behind you.

DIONYSUS. Place yourself behind me.

XANTHIAS. Ah! 'tis in front now.

DIONYSUS. Then pass to the front.

XANTHIAS. Oh! what a monster I can see!

DIONYSUS. What's it like?

XANTHIAS. Dreadful, terrible! it assumes every shape; now 'tis a bull, then a mule; again it is a most beautiful woman.

DIONYSUS. Where is she that I may run toward her?

XANTHIAS. The monster is no longer a woman; 'tis now a dog.

DIONYSUS. Then it is the Empusa.[418]

XANTHIAS. Its whole face is ablaze.

DIONYSUS. And it has a brazen leg?

XANTHIAS. Aye, i' faith! and the other is an ass's leg,[419] rest well assured of that.

DIONYSUS. Where shall I fly to?

XANTHIAS. And I?

DIONYSUS. Priest,[420] save me, that I may drink with you.

XANTHIAS. Oh! mighty Heracles! we are dead men.

DIONYSUS. Silence! I adjure you. Don't utter that name.

XANTHIAS. Well then, we are dead men, Dionysus!

DIONYSUS. That still less than the other.

XANTHIAS. Keep straight on, master, here, here, this way.

DIONYSUS. Well?

XANTHIAS. Be at ease, all goes well and we can say with Hegelochus, "After the storm, I see the return of the cat."[421] The Empusa has gone.

DIONYSUS. Swear it to me.

XANTHIAS. By Zeus!

DIONYSUS. Swear it again.

XANTHIAS. By Zeus!

DIONYSUS. Once more.

XANTHIAS. By Zeus!

DIONYSUS. Oh! my god! how white I went at the sight of the Empusa! But yonder fellow got red instead, so horribly afraid was he![422] Alas! to whom do I owe this terrible meeting? What god shall I accuse of having sought my death? Might it be "the Aether, the dwelling of Zeus," or "the wing of Time"?[423]

XANTHIAS. Hist!

DIONYSUS. What's the matter?

XANTHIAS. Don't you hear?

DIONYSUS. What then?

XANTHIAS. The sound of flutes.

DIONYSUS. Aye, certainly, and the wind wafts a smell of torches hither, which bespeaks the Mysteries a league away. But make no noise; let us hide ourselves and listen.

CHORUS.[424] Iacchus, oh! Iacchus! Iacchus, oh! Iacchus!

XANTHIAS. Master, these are the initiates, of whom Heracles spoke and who are here at their sports; they are incessantly singing of Iacchus, just like Diagoras.[425]

DIONYSUS. I believe you are right, but 'tis best to keep ourselves quiet till we get better information.

CHORUS. Iacchus, venerated god, hasten at our call. Iacchus, oh! Iacchus! come into this meadow, thy favourite resting-place; come to direct the sacred choirs of the Initiate; may a thick crown of fruit-laden myrtle branches rest on thy head and may thy bold foot step this free and joyful dance, taught us by the Graces—this pure, religious measure, that our sacred choirs rehearse.

XANTHIAS. Oh! thou daughter of Demeter, both mighty and revered, what a delicious odour of pork!

DIONYSUS. Cannot you keep still then, fellow, once you get a whiff of a bit of tripe?

CHORUS. Brandish the flaming torches and so revive their brilliancy. Iacchus, oh! Iacchus! bright luminary of our nocturnal Mysteries. The meadow sparkles with a thousand fires; the aged shake off the weight of cares and years; they have once more found limbs of steel, wherewith to take part in thy sacred measures; and do thou, blessed deity, lead the dances of youth upon this dewy carpet of flowers with a torch in thine hand.

Silence, make way for our choirs, you profane and impure souls, who have neither been present at the festivals of the noble Muses, nor ever footed a dance in their honour, and who are not initiated into the mysterious language of the dithyrambs of the voracious Cratinus;[426] away from here he who applauds misplaced buffoonery. Away from here the bad citizen, who for his private ends fans and nurses the flame of sedition, the chief who sells himself, when his country is weathering the storms, and surrenders either fortresses or ships; who, like Thorycion,[427] the wretched collector of tolls, sends prohibited goods from Aegina to Epidaurus, such as oar-leathers, sailcloth and pitch, and who secures a subsidy for a hostile fleet,[428] or soils the statues of Hecat,[429] while he is humming some dithyramb. Away from here, the orator who nibbles at the salary of the poets, because he has been scouted in the ancient solemnities of Dionysus; to all such I say, and I repeat, and I say it again for the third time, "Make way for the choruses of the Initiate." But you, raise you your voice anew; resume your nocturnal hymns as it is meet to do at this festival.

Let each one advance boldly into the retreats of our flowery meads, let him mingle in our dances, let him give vent to jesting, to wit and to satire. Enough of junketing, lead forward! let our voices praise the divine protectress[430] with ardent love, yea! praise her, who promises to assure the welfare of this country for ever, in spite of Thorycion.

Let our hymns now be addressed to Demeter, the Queen of Harvest, the goddess crowned with ears of corn; to her be dedicated the strains of our divine concerts. Oh! Demeter, who presidest over the pure mysteries, help us and protect thy choruses; far from all danger, may I continually yield myself to sports and dancing, mingle laughter with seriousness, as is fitting at thy festivals, and as the reward for my biting sarcasms may I wreathe my head with the triumphal fillets. And now let our songs summon hither the lovable goddess, who so often joins in our dances.

Oh, venerated Dionysus, who hast created such soft melodies for this festival, come to accompany us to the goddess, show that you can traverse a long journey without wearying.[431] Dionysus, the king of the dance, guide my steps. 'Tis thou who, to raise a laugh and for the sake of economy,[432] hast torn our sandals and our garments; let us bound, let us dance at our pleasure, for we have nothing to spoil. Dionysus, king of the dance, guide my steps. Just now I saw through a corner of my eye a ravishing young girl, the companion of our sports; I saw the nipple of her bosom peeping through a rent in her tunic. Dionysus, king of the dance, guide my steps.

DIONYSUS. Aye, I like to mingle with these choruses; I would fain dance and sport with that young girl.

XANTHIAS. And I too.

CHORUS. Would you like us to mock together at Archidemus? He is still awaiting his seven-year teeth to have himself entered as a citizen;[433] but he is none the less a chief of the people among the Athenians and the greatest rascal of 'em all. I am told that Clisthenes is tearing the hair out of his rump and lacerating his cheeks on the tomb of Sebinus, the Anaphlystian;[434] with his forehead against the ground, he is beating his bosom and groaning and calling him by name. As for Callias,[435] the illustrious son of Hippobinus, the new Heracles, he is fighting a terrible battle of love on his galleys; dressed up in a lion's skin, he fights a fierce naval battle—with the girls' cunts.

DIONYSUS. Could you tell us where Pluto dwells? We are strangers and have just arrived.

CHORUS. Go no farther, and know without further question that you are at his gates.

DIONYSUS. Slave, pick up your baggage.

XANTHIAS. This wretched baggage, 'tis like Corinth, the daughter of Zeus, for it's always in his mouth.[436]

CHORUS. And now do ye, who take part in this religious festival, dance a gladsome round in the flowery grove in honour of the goddess.[437]

DIONYSUS. As for myself, I will go with the young girls and the women into the enclosure, where the nocturnal ceremonies are held; 'tis I will bear the sacred torch.

CHORUS. Let us go into the meadows, that are sprinkled with roses, to form, according to our rites, the graceful choirs, over which the blessed Fates preside. 'Tis for us alone that the sun doth shine; his glorious rays illumine the Initiate, who have led the pious life, that is equally dear to strangers and citizens.

DIONYSUS. Come now! how should we knock at this door? How do the dwellers in these parts knock?

XANTHIAS. Lose no time and attack the door with vigour, if you have the courage of Heracles as well as his costume.

DIONYSUS. Ho! there! Slave!

AEACUS. Who's there?

DIONYSUS. Heracles, the bold.

AEACUS. Ah! wretched, impudent, shameless, threefold rascal, the most rascally of rascals. Ah! 'tis you who hunted out our dog Cerberus, whose keeper I was! But I have got you to-day; and the black stones of Styx, the rocks of Acheron, from which the blood is dripping, and the roaming dogs of Cocytus shall account to me for you; the hundred-headed Hydra shall tear your sides to pieces; the Tartessian Muraena[438] shall fasten itself on your lungs and the Tithrasian[439] Gorgons shall tear your kidneys and your gory entrails to shreds; I will go and fetch them as quickly as possible.

XANTHIAS. Eh! what are you doing there?

DIONYSUS (stooping down). I have just shit myself! Invoke the god.[440]

XANTHIAS. Get up at once. How a stranger would laugh, if he saw you.

DIONYSUS. Ah! I'm fainting. Place a sponge on my heart.

XANTHIAS. Here, take it.

DIONYSUS. Place it yourself.

XANTHIAS. But where? Good gods, where is your heart?

DIONYSUS. It has sunk into my shoes with fear. (Takes his slave's hand holding the sponge, and applies it to his bottom.)

XANTHIAS. Oh! you most cowardly of gods and men!

DIONYSUS. What! I cowardly? I, who have asked you for a sponge! 'Tis what no one else would have done.

XANTHIAS. How so?

DIONYSUS. A poltroon would have fallen backwards, being overcome with the fumes; as for me, I got up and moreover I wiped myself clean.

XANTHIAS. Ah! by Posidon! a wonderful feat of intrepidity!

DIONYSUS. Aye, certainly. And you did not tremble at the sound of his threatening words?

XANTHIAS. They never troubled me.

DIONYSUS. Well then, since you are so brave and fearless, become what I am, take this bludgeon and this lion's hide, you, whose heart has no knowledge of fear; I, in return, will carry the baggage.

XANTHIAS. Here, take it, take it quick! 'this my duty to obey you, and behold, Heracles-Xanthias! Do I look like a coward of your kidney?

DIONYSUS. No. You are the exact image of the god of Melit,[441] dressed up as a rascal. Come, I will take the baggage.

FEMALE ATTENDANT OF PERSEPHON. Ah! is it you then, beloved Heracles? Come in. As soon as ever the goddess, my mistress Persephon, knew of your arrival, she quickly had the bread into the oven and clapped two or three pots of bruised peas upon the fire; she has had a whole bullock roasted and both cakes and rolled backed. Come in quick!

XANTHIAS. No, thank you.

ATTENDANT. Oh! by Apollo! I shall not let you off. She has also had poultry boiled for you, sweetmeats makes, and has prepared you some delicious wine. Come then, enter with me.

XANTHIAS. I am much obliged.

ATTENDANT. Are you mad? I will not let you go. There is likewise and enchanted flute-girl specially for you, and two or three dancing wenches.

XANTHIAS. What do you say? Dancing wenches?

ATTENDANT. In the prime of their life and all freshly depilated. Come, enter, for the cook was going to take the fish off the fire and the table was being spread.

XANTHIAS. Very well then! Run in quickly and tell the dancing-girls I am coming. Slave! pick up the baggage and follow me.

DIONYSUS. Not so fast! Oh! indeed! I disguise you as Heracles for a joke and you take the thing seriously! None of your nonsense, Xanthias! Take back the baggage.

XANTHIAS. What? You are not thinking of taking back what you gave me yourself?

DIONYSUS. No, I don't think about it; I do it. Off with that skin!

XANTHIAS. Witness how i am treated, ye great dogs, and be my judges!

DIONYSUS. What gods? Are you so stupid, such a fool? How can you, a slave and a mortal, be the son of Alcmena?

XANTHIAS. Come then! 'tis well! take them. But perhaps you will be needing me one day, an it please the gods.

CHORUS. 'Tis the act of a wise and sensible man, who has done much sailing, always to trim his sail towards the quarter whence the fair wind wafts, rather than stand stiff and motionless like a god Terminus.[442] To change your part to serve your own interest is to act like a clever man, a true Theramenes.[443]

DIONYSUS. Faith! 'twould be funny indeed if Xanthias, a slave, were indolently stretched out on purple cushions and fucking the dancing-girl; if he were then to ask me for a pot, while I, looking on, would be rubbing my tool, and this master rogue, on seeing it, were to know out my front teeth with a blow of his fist.

FIRST INKEEPER'S WIFE. Here! Plathan, Plathan! do come! here is the rascal who once came into our shop and ate up sixteen loaves for us.

SECOND INKEEPER'S WIFE. Aye, truly, 'tis he himself!

XANTHIAS. This is turning out rough for somebody.

FIRST WIFE. And besides that, twenty pieces of boiled meat at half an obolus apiece.

XANTHIAS. There's someone going to get punished.

FIRST WIFE. And I don't know how many cloves of garlic.

DIONYSUS. You are rambling, my dear, you don't know what you are saying.

FIRST WIFE. Hah! you thought I should not know you, because of your buskins! And then all the salt fish, I had forgotten that!

SECOND WIFE. And then, alas! the fresh cheese that he devoured, osier baskets and all! Ten, when I asked for my money, he started to roar and shoot terrible looks at me.

XANTHIAS. As! I recognize him well by that token; 'tis just his way.

SECOND WIFE. And he drew out his sword like a madman.

FIRST WIFE. By the gods, yes.

SECOND WIFE. Terrified to death, we clambered up to the upper storey, and he fled at top speed, carrying off our baskets with him.

XANTHIAS. Ah! this is again his style! But you ought to take action.

FIRST WIFE. Run quick and call Cleon, my patron.

SECOND WIFE. And you, should you run against Hyperbolus,[444] bring him to me; we will knock the life out of our robber.

FIRST WIFE. Oh! you miserable glutton! how I should delight in breaking those grinders of yours, which devoured my goods!

SECOND WIFE. And I in hurling you into the malefactor's pit.

FIRST WIFE. And I in slitting with one stroke of the sickle that gullet that bolted down the tripe. But I am going to fetch Cleon; he shall summon you before the court this very day and force you to disgorge.

DIONYSUS. May I die, if Xanthias is not my dearest friend.

XANTHIAS. Can I be the son of Alcmena, I, a slave and a mortal?

DIONYSUS. I know, I know, that you are in a fury and you have the right to be; you can even beat me and I will not reply. But if I ever take this costume from you again, may I die of the most fearful torture—I, my wife, my children, all those who belong to me, down to the very last, and blear-eyed Archidemus[445] into the bargain.

XANTHIAS. I accept your oath, and on those terms I agree.

CHORUS. 'Tis now your cue, since you have resumed the dress, to act the brave and to throw terror into your glance, thus recalling the god whom you represent. But if you play your part badly, if you yield to any weakness, you will again have to load your shoulders with the baggage.

XANTHIAS. Friends, your advice is good, but I was thinking the same myself; if there is any good to be got, my master will again want to despoil me of this costume, of that I am quite certain. Ne'ertheless, I am going to show a fearless heart and shoot forth ferocious looks. And lo! the time for it has come, for I hear a noise at the door.

AEACUS (to his slaves). Bind me this dog-thief,[446] that he may be punished. Hurry yourselves, hurry!

DIONYSUS. This is going to turn out badly for someone.

XANTHIAS. Look to yourselves and don't come near me.

AEACUS. Hah! you would show fight! Ditylas, Sceblyas, Pardocas,[447] come here and have at him!

DIONYSUS. Ah! you would strike him because he has stolen!

XANTHIAS. 'Tis horrible!

DIONYSUS. 'Tis a revolting cruelty!

XANTHIAS. By Zeus! may I die, if I ever came here or stole from you the value of a pin! But I will act nobly; take this slave, put him to the question, and if you obtain the proof of my guilt, put me to death.

AEACUS. In what manner shall I put him to the question?

XANTHIAS. In every manner; you may lash him to the wooden horse, hang him, cut him open with scourging, flay him, twist his limbs, pour vinegar down his nostrils, load him with bricks, anything you like; only don't beat him with leeks or fresh garlic.[448]

AEACUS. 'Tis well conceived; but if the blows maim your slave, you will be claiming damages from me.

XANTHIAS. No, certainly not! set about putting him to the question.

AEACUS. It shall be done here, for I wish him to speak in your presence. Come, put down your pack, and be careful not to lie.

DIONYSUS. I forbid you to torture me, for I am immortal; if you dare it, woe to you!

AEACUS. What say you?

DIONYSUS. I say that I am an immortal, Dionysus, the son of Zeus, and that this fellow is only a slave.

AEACUS (to Xanthias). D'you hear him?

XANTHIAS. Yes. 'Tis all the better reason for beating him with rods, for, if he is a god, he will not feel the blows.

DIONYSUS (to Xanthias).

But why, pray, since you also claim to be a god, should you not be beaten like myself?

XANTHIAS (to Aeacus).

That's fair. Very well then, whichever of us two you first see crying and caring for the blows, him believe not to be a god.

AEACUS. 'Tis spoken like a brave fellow; you don't refuse what is right. Strip yourselves.

XANTHIAS. To do the thing fairly, how do you propose to act?

AEACUS. Oh! that's easy. I shall hit you one after the other.

XANTHIAS. Well thought of.

AEACUS. There! (He strikes Xanthias.)

XANTHIAS. Watch if you see me flinch.

AEACUS. I have already struck you.

XANTHIAS. No, you haven't.

AEACUS. Why, you have not felt it at all, I think. Now for t'other one.

DIONYSUS. Be quick about it.

AEACUS. But I have struck you.

DIONYSUS. Ah! I did not even sneeze. How is that?

AEACUS. I don't know; come, I will return to the first one.

XANTHIAS. Get it over. Oh, oh!

AEACUS. What does that "oh, oh!" mean? Did it hurt you?

XANTHIAS. Oh, no! but I was thinking of the feasts of Heracles, which are being held at Diomeia.[449]

AEACUS. Oh! what a pious fellow! I pass on to the other again.

DIONYSUS. Oh! oh!

AEACUS. What's wrong?

DIONYSUS. I see some knights.[450]

AEACUS. Why are you weeping?

DIONYSUS. Because I can smell onions.

AEACUS. Ha! so you don't care a fig for the blows?

DIONYSUS. Not the least bit in the world.

AEACUS. Well, let us proceed. Your turn now.

XANTHIAS. Oh, I say!

AEACUS. What's the matter?

XANTHIAS. Pull out this thorn.[451]

AEACUS. What? Now the other one again.

DIONYSUS. "Oh, Apollo!... King of Delos and Delphi!"

XANTHIAS. He felt that. Do you hear?

DIONYSUS. Why, no! I was quoting an iambic of Hipponax.

XANTHIAS. 'Tis labour in vain. Come, smite his flanks.

AEACUS. No, present your belly.

DIONYSUS. Oh, Posidon ...

XANTHIAS. Ah! here's someone who's feeling it.

DIONYSUS. ... who reignest on the Aegean headland and in the depths of the azure sea.[452]

AEACUS. By Demeter, I cannot find out which of you is the god. But come in; the master and Persephon will soon tell you, for they are gods themselves.

DIONYSUS. You are quite right; but you should have thought of that before you beat us.

CHORUS. Oh! Muse, take part in our sacred choruses; our songs will enchant you and you shall see a people of wise men, eager for a nobler glory than that of Cleophon,[453] the braggart, the swallow, who deafens us with his hoarse cries, while perched upon a Thracian tree. He whines in his barbarian tongue and repeats the lament of Philomela with good reason, for even if the votes were equally divided, he would have to perish.[454]

The sacred chorus owes the city its opinion and its wise lessons. First I demand that equality be restored among the citizens, so that none may be disquieted. If there be any whom the artifices of Phrynichus have drawn into any error,[455] let us allow them to offer their excuses and let us forget these old mistakes. Furthermore, that there be not a single citizen in Athens who is deprived of his rights; otherwise would it not be shameful to see slaves become masters and treated as honourably as Plataeans, because they helped in a single naval fight?[456] Not that I censure this step, for, on the contrary I approve it; 'tis the sole thing you have done that is sensible. But those citizens, both they and their fathers, have so often fought with you and are allied to you by ties of blood, so ought you not to listen to their prayers and pardon them their single fault? Nature has given you wisdom, therefore let your anger cool and let all those who have fought together on Athenian galleys live in brotherhood and as fellow-citizens, enjoying the same equal rights; to show ourselves proud and intractable about granting the rights of the city, especially at a time when we are riding at the mercy of the waves,[457] is a folly, of which we shall later repent.

If I am adept at reading the destiny or the soul of a man, the fatal hour for little Cligenes[458] is near, that unbearable ape, the greatest rogue of all the washermen, who use a mixture of ashes and Cimolian earth and call it potash.[458] He knows it; hence he is always armed for war; for he fears, if he ventures forth without his bludgeon, he would be stripped of his clothes when he is drunk.

I have often noticed that there are good and honest citizens in Athens, who are as old gold is to new money. The ancient coins are excellent in point of standard; they are assuredly the best of all moneys; they alone are well struck and give a pure ring; everywhere they obtain currency, both in Greece and in strange lands; yet we make no use of them and prefer those bad copper pieces quite recently issued and so wretchedly struck. Exactly in the same way do we deal with our citizens. If we know them to be well-born, sober, brave, honest, adepts in the exercises of the gymnasium and in the liberal arts, they are the butts of our contumely and we have only a use for the petty rubbish, consisting of strangers, slaves and low-born folk not worth a whit more, mushrooms of yesterday, whom formerly Athens would not have even wanted as scapegoats. Madmen, do change your ways at last; employ the honest men afresh; if you are fortunate through doing this, 'twill be but right, and if Fate betrays you, the wise will at least praise you for having fallen honourably.

AEACUS. By Zeus, the Deliverer! what a brave man your master is.

XANTHIAS. A brave man! I should think so indeed, for he only knows how to drink and to make love!

AEACUS. He has convicted you of lying and did not thrash the impudent rascal who had dared to call himself the master.

XANTHIAS. Ah! he would have rued it if he had.

AEACUS. Well spoken! that's a reply that does a slave credit; 'tis thus that I like to act too.

XANTHIAS. How, pray?

AEACUS. I am beside myself with joy, when I can curse my master in secret.

XANTHIAS. And when you go off grumbling, after having been well thrashed?

AEACUS. I am delighted.

XANTHIAS. And when you make yourself important?

AEACUS. I know of nothing sweeter.

XANTHIAS. Ah! by Zeus! we are brothers. And when you are listening to what your masters are saying?

AEACUS. 'Tis a pleasure that drives me to distraction.

XANTHIAS. And when you repeat it to strangers?

AEACUS. Oh! I feel as happy as if I were emitting semen.

XANTHIAS. By Phoebus Apollo! reach me your hand; come hither, that I may embrace you; and, in the name of Zeus, the Thrashed one, tell me what all this noise means, these shouts, these quarrels, that I can hear going on inside yonder.

AEACUS. 'Tis Aeschylus and Euripides.

XANTHIAS. What do you mean?

AEACUS. The matter is serious, very serious indeed; all Hades is in commotion.

XANTHIAS. What's it all about?

AEACUS. We have a law here, according to which, whoever in each of the great sciences and liberal arts beats all his rivals, is fed at the Prytaneum and sits at Pluto's side ...

XANTHIAS. I know that.

AEACUS. ... until someone cleverer than he in the same style of thing comes along; then he has to give way to him.