by Aristophanes
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: By Poseidon, no! Absolutely not!
LYSISTRATA: Come on, chum, let them have it.
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: Then what will we be left to sport with?
LYSISTRATA: Just ask him for a swap.
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: Let’s think. . . . Yes, this pubis of
Echinous here,
and these buttocks of Malia with their inlet,
and the two legs of Megara—I mean the walls.
SPARTAN DELEGATE: Gee, fella, is that all? Yer askin’ for most everythin’.
LYSISTRATA: Get on with you. You’re not going to scrap
over a pair of legs are you?
[SPARTAN DELEGATE shrugs his shoulders in reluctant agreement.]
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: I’m stripping, ready for plowing.
SPARTAN DELEGATE: Me, too, damn it. I’m fertilizin’.
LYSISTRATA: Hold on, the two of you. You know you must
ratify the treaty first.
So if you’re really serious about a settling,
go back and tell your allies.
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: Allies, dear girl—we can’t delay for that.
Surely they all want the same as us—to fuck.
SPARTAN DELEGATE: Spot on, by them twain gods!
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: And I can vouch for those horny Carystian lads.
LYSISTRATA: You’ve convinced me but will you just hold on
a little longer till we women
prepare a supper for you on the Acropolis
from the ample provisions we’ve brought with us?
And after you two have promised to trust each other
you can each get your wife back and go home with her.
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: Right, the sooner the better!
SPARTAN DELEGATE: I’m be’ind yer, mate. Don’t linger.
[Everyone leaves except the CHORUSES. Various SERVANTS loll about outside the Acropolis, where there is also a PORTER.]
STROPHE
WOMEN’S CHORUS: Spangled designs on costly stuffs, Superb dresses and beautiful gowns, The golden jewelry I own: The whole lot—there’s quite enough—I’ll give away to anyone Whose daughter may be walking in The basket ritual procession. So allow me to urge you to take whatever you want Of whatever you find inside my house. There is nothing so adamantly locked you can’t Break the lock and carry away Whatever you discover it has. But let me say: there’s not a thing for you to spy Unless you have a better eye than I.
ANTISTROPHE
MEN’S CHORUS:
If any of you is out of bread
And has a score of slaves to feed,
Not to mention sundry brats.
In my house is flour that’s
Perhaps not really up to scratch,
But a pound of the stuff is quite enough
To make a really splendid loaf.
So come to my house you stricken ones, and if
You bring your sacks to fill with flour
My houseboy Manes’ll come to your help and pour
The flour out for you, but do take care.
There’s something I must warn you of—
It might be better after all not to come at all.
There’s a hungry watchdog in the hall.
[It is now evening and a banquet is going on inside the Acropolis, just as LYSISTRATA has promised. Two Athenian LOUTS arrive and want to get in. They carry torches. The PORTER tries to stop them.]661
FIRST LOUT: Hey, you, open the damned door.
[He punches the PORTER.]
Yer shood ’ave got out of the way.
[He stares at the CHORUSES.]
What are you ’anging around for?
Like me to tickle yer tails with a flare?
A bit vulgar that? Aye,
but I will if yer insist.
SECOND LOUT: An’ I’ll give yer a ’and.
PORTER: Off with the two of yer. Git out of it
or yer’ll get yer long locks untressed!
Them Spartan delegates’re coming out of their feast
’an I don’t want yer to molest
them. . . . Better scram.
[The two LOUTS slink as two ATHENIAN DELEGATES, well fed and slightly sozzled, come out of the Acropolis.]
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: Quite a party, what! Never seen the
like.
And those Spartans—hiccup—weren’t they a delight?
We were in pretty good form, too.
Oh, boy—hiccup—that vino!
SECOND ATHENIAN DELEGATE: Don’t I know!
When we’re sober we’re not at our best.
Know what? I’d tell our Gov’ment—hiccup—
ter make sure ev’ry damn ambassador
is well and truly loaded.
Now the way things go,
we t-turn up in Sp-a-arta stone sober and stupid
an’ picking for a fight.
We’re not list’ning t’ what they say
an’ we’re reading nasty things—hiccup—inter what they don’t
say.
An’ we come home
wi’ a pack o’ nonsense as to what went on
an’ dis-dis-kushuns—hiccup—riddled with contradikshun.
But on this occashun
everything was handled with such—such . . . charm.
Even when somebody began singing “Long Long Ago”
when he oughta be singing “The Bluebells of Sparta,”
we all clapped shoutin’, “Encore! Encore!”
[The two Athenian LOUTS return and the PORTER rounds on them.]
PORTER: Will yer not git aht of it, yer two yobs!
FIRST LOUT: Not ’arf! More of ’em ’igh-ups is comin’ out.
[The two LOUTS skedaddle as a group of ATHENIAN and SPARTAN DELEGATES, well wined and dined, come out of the Acropolis. They are accompanied by a young PIPER carrying bagpipes.]
SPARTAN DELEGATE: [to the PIPER] Mah darlin’ lad, take up yer pipe
an’ I’ll carol out a jingle full o’ pep
fer ye Athenians and fer us ’uns.
FIRST ATHENIAN DELEGATE: By all means do. I just love to see you people dance.
[The PIPER improvises a tune as the SPARTAN DELEGATE sings and dances.]
SPARTAN DELEGATE: Memory, tell us again of when we were young.
Be our very own Muse in song:
The Muse who knows most everything,
Whether we’re Athenians or Laconians.
Remember Artemisium on that day662
When we hoisted sail, we and they,
Against the armada sent from Persia.
Remember how we routed the Medes,
Leonidas our leader in the lead,
And we as savage as forest boars
Baring our tusks and foaming at the jaws
While our limbs were covered in shining sweat.
More numerous than the sands of the shores
Were the Persian hordes, and yet
Great glory was ours. So, goddess of woodlands, Artemis,
Killer of beasts, come to us
And seal our pact,
And keep our friendship long intact
In cordial amity so that we,
Free from disagreement and enmity,
Stop our shenanigans so foxy and so silly.
Come to us, come,
Illustrious huntress, virgin dame.
[LYSISTRATA comes out of the Acropolis leading the SPARTAN WIVES and the ATHENIAN WIVES.]
LYSISTRATA: Now that everything’s worked out so well
it’s time you Spartans got back your wives and you Athenians
yours.
So, my dears,
let each husband stand beside his woman while
each wife stands beside her husband.
And let us celebrate this happy bond
and thank the gods with dance.
And let us swear
never to make the same mistakes again and be so dense.
ATHENIANS: Bring on the dance, invite the Graces,
Not forgetting Artemis
And her brother the healer, gracious Apollo,
And Bacchus, of course, all aglow
Among his bacchantes,
And Zeus with his bolts of fire,
And Hera his consort—excellent lady—
Call on every celestial power
To witness this contract with humanity,
Conceived by the goddess Aphrodite.
Alalai, leap high
With a victory cry.
Apollo, be nigh.
Alalai alalai alalai!
LYSISTRATA: Dear Spartans, can you match that music
and cap it with a brand-new song?
SPARTANS: Laconian Muse from the magic
Mountain of Tayetus, please come back
To celebrate this pact
And sing a hymn to the god of Amyclae,663
And to Athena in her Spartan guise,
And Tyndareus’ stalwart sons664
Galloping by
The river Erotas. . . . Hey there, hi!
Foot it featly, prancer,
And chant a canticle to Sparta,
Nursery of the god-directed dance
And the twinkle of feet by the river
Erotas of blossoming girls
Frolicking like fillies, tossing their curls,
Waving their wands, and churning up whorls
Of dust, like maenads in their gambols,
Led by Helen, Leda’s daughter,
Chaste and pure.665
UNITED CHORUS: [The whole cast lines up for the triumphant exodus dance
out of the theater.]
Come along now. Let your fingers bind up your hair
And your feet tread as nimble and light as a deer,
With shouts of success that quicken the dance.
So sing to Pallas, all-winning Athena—
Goddess of the Brazen House.
WOMEN AT THESMOPHORIA FESTIVAL
Thesmophoriazusae
Women at Thesmophoria Festival, or to give the
comedy its Greek name, Thesmophoriazusae, was
presented in 411 B.C., probably at the Dionysia,
and produced presumably by Aristophanes. It is
not known if it received a prize.
THEME
Athens was still reeling from the disastrous invasion of Sicily, in which she lost her army, her navy, and most of her money; the Peloponnesan War showed every sign of dragging on and most of Athens’ allies had turned against her. One might have thought that Aristophanes, who had written play after play inveighing against the folly of war, would have been entitled to despair. Instead, it was as if he had shrugged his shoulders at the insanity of men and turned to the women. In this lighthearted play he apologizes with tongue in cheek for the way Euripides makes monsters of his women (Clytemnestra, Medea, Phaedra, and in some ways Electra) when in truth women are our only hope.
CHARACTERS
MNESILOCHUS, elderly relative of Euripides
EURIPIDES, the tragic poet
SERVANT, of Agathon
AGATHON, the tragic poet
CRITYLLA, tough old woman
MICA, wife of Cleonymus
WREATH SELLER, from the marketplace
CLEISTHENES, professional informer
PREFECT, Athenian magistrate
ARCHER POLICEMAN, a Scythian
ECHO, a teenage girl
CHORUS, women celebrating the festival of Thesmophoria
SILENT PARTS
SERVANTS, of Mnesilochus
THRATTA, servant of Mnesilochus
MANIA, nurse of Mica
OTHER ATHENIAN WOMEN
SERVANTS, of women celebrating the Thesmophoria
MAIDS, of Critylla
ELAPHIUM, dancing girl
TEREDON, boy piper
THE STORY
The women of Athens are celebrating their private festival, from which men are excluded. Euripides learns that they are about to issue his death warrant because of the way he depicts them in his tragedies. So he asks Agathon, an effeminate poet, to disguise himself as a woman, attend their rites, and plead his cause. When Agathon refuses, Mnesilochus, an elderly relation of Euripides, takes on the job, and he is shaved and dressed up as a woman. However, while he is speaking in the middle of the festival, a rumor starts to circulate that among the women there is a man dressed up as a woman.
OBSERVATIONS
The festival of Thesmophoria was in honor of Demeter, goddess of the soil and fruitfulness, but not only that: themos means “law” and phoria “bringer,” so it is a festival celebrating the law and order of the world. The festival began on the fourteenth of the month of October and lasted three days. This was the time of the autumn sowing, not only of wheat and barley but of such herbs and vegetables as onions, garlic, leeks, broad beans, parsley, and radishes. The women lived in tents on the hill of the Pnyx and were dressed in white, symbolizing their virtue and innocence. Chastity and fasting were imposed for three or four days before the festival and the three during it. The mood of the women must have been somewhat solemn, if not downright gloomy, and no doubt a source of much merriment among the men.
TIME AND SETTING
It is midmorning on the second day of the festival. EURIPIDES walks with a sprightly step along a street in Athens with MNESILOCHUS lagging along behind.
MNESILOCHUS:666 Great Zeus!
I’d give anything to see a swallow!
Ever since daybreak,
I’ve been dragged around by this fellow.
Hey, Euripides, before I peg out,
may I venture to ask:
where the hell are you taking me?
EURIPIDES: No point in your hearing where
since you’ll see for yourself presently.
MNESILOCHUS: Say that again.
No point in hearing what?
EURIPIDES: What you’re going to see.
MNESILOCHUS: Or see what I’m going to hear?
EURIPIDES: No, not if you’re going to see it.
MNESILOCHUS: Please explain.
Is this a riddle, are you saying
I’m neither going to hear nor see?
EURIPIDES: I’m saying there’s a built-in distinction between the two.
MNESILOCHUS: You mean between not hearing and not seeing?
EURIPIDES: Exactly.
MNESILOCHUS: So they’re distinct. But how is that?
EURIPIDES: Well, ages ago they came apart
when Ether god of light in primal evolution
split himself from Mother Earth having begot
on her everything that’s able to stir;
and from the start he began to shape the gift of sight,
like a reflex of the sun; then
he bored a funnel for the ear.
MNESILOCHUS: [with supreme sarcasm]
So because of this funnel I can neither see nor hear?
Thank you for such a giant leap in education.
Your conversation is profound. . . . Oh, really!
EURIPIDES: [ignoring the sarcasm] Yes, indeed, there’s quite a lot you can learn from me.
MNESILOCHUS: For instance, what I’d dearly like to know
is how to go lame in both legs.
EURIPIDES: [still not reacting] Come along, then, and listen carefully.
[They come to a house and stand outside it.]
MNESILOCHUS: Well?
EURIPIDES: D’you see that door?
MNESILOCHUS: By Heracles, I suppose I do!
EURIPIDES: Now be still.
MNESILOCHUS: Still as a doorknob.
EURIPIDES: Listen.
MNESILOCHUS: I’m listening, and not mentioning the door.
EURIPIDES: This happens to be the home of Agathon,667 the
distinguished poet.
MNESILOCHUS: Agathon, the what?
EURIPIDES: The Agathon that’s—
MNESILOCHUS: Not the one th
at’s dark and burly?
EURIPIDES: No, not him . . . You mean you’ve never seen him?
MNESILOCHUS: Or the one with the beard—all shaggy?
EURIPIDES: You’ve really never seen him?
MNESILOCHUS: Never, never! . . . Not so far as I know.
EURIPIDES: Surprise! Surprise! You must have fucked him surely—
as far as you know!
But let’s lie low and out of sight.
One of his servants is coming out
with hot coals and sprigs of myrtle:
no doubt an offering for victory in poesy.
[The SERVANT emerges, sets his regalia in order, and in a half-chanting, half-whining voice begins to address all within earshot in a language full of highfalutin flourishes.]
SERVANT: Silence, pray, all you people.
Let your mouths be clamped. Within
These his lordship’s halls the music makers
Dwell in this their Muses’ den.
From Ether let no breath of breeze.
And from the swell of the gray-green seas no din . . .
MNESILOCHUS: Baloney!
EURIPIDES: Quiet! What’s he saying?
SERVANT: Let the birds of the air succumb to slumber And the beasts of the wild to their patter and pawing.
MNESILOCHUS: Baloney and balls! Baloney and balling!
SERVANT: For Agathon, our peerless poet, prepareth to—
MNESILOCHUS: Get himself buggered.
SERVANT:—to lay the keel of a vessel for drama.
He bendeth the beams, and planeth the planks,
Riveteth verse with phrase and symbol.
He moldeth waxen aphorism and nimble
Maxim and channeleth molten metaphor,