Delphi Complete Works of Aristophanes (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics)

by Aristophanes

  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; 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; with his forehead against the ground, he is beating his bosom and groaning and calling him by name. As for Callias, 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.

  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.

  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 shall fasten itself on your lungs and the Tithrasian 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.

  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 Melité, dressed up as a rascal. Come, I will take the baggage.

  FEMALE ATTENDANT OF PERSEPHONÉ. Ah! is it you then, beloved Heracles? Come in. As soon as ever the goddess, my mistress Persephoné, 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. To change your part to serve your own interest is to act like a clever man, a true Theramenes.

  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! Plathané, Plathané! 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, bring him to me; we will knock the life out of our robber.

  FIRST WIFE. Oh! you miserable glutton! how I should delight in break
ing 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 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, 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, 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.

  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.

  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.

  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.

  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.

  AEACUS. By Demeter, I cannot find out which of you is the god. But come in; the master and Persephoné 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, 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.

  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, 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? 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, 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 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. 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 giv
e 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.