The Complete Plays

by Aristophanes

  PRAXAGORA. Friends, success has crowned our plans. But off with these cloaks and these boots quick, before any man sees you; unbuckle the Laconian straps and get rid of your staffs; and do you help them with their toilet. As for myself, I am going to slip quietly into the house and replace my husband’s cloak and other gear where I took them from, before he can suspect anything.

  CHORUS. There! ’tis done according to your bidding. Now tell us how we can be of service to you, so that we may show you our obedience, for we have never seen a cleverer woman than you.

  PRAXAGORA. Wait! I only wish to use the power given me in accordance with your wishes; for, in the market-place, in the midst of the shouts and danger, I appreciated your indomitable courage.

  BLEPYRUS. Eh, Praxagora! where do you come from?

  PRAXAGORA. How does that concern you, friend?

  BLEPYRUS. Why, greatly! what a silly question!

  PRAXAGORA. You don’t think I have come from a lover’s?

  BLEPYRUS. No, perhaps not from only one.

  PRAXAGORA. You can make yourself sure of that.

  BLEPYRUS. And how?

  PRAXAGORA. You can see whether my hair smells of perfume.

  BLEPYRUS. What? cannot a woman possibly be loved without perfume, eh!

  PRAXAGORA. The gods forfend, as far as I am concerned.

  BLEPYRUS. Why did you go off at early dawn with my cloak?

  PRAXAGORA. A companion, a friend who was in labour, had sent to fetch me.

  BLEPYRUS. Could you not have told me?

  PRAXAGORA. Oh, my dear, would you have me caring nothing for a poor woman in that plight?

  BLEPYRUS. A word would have been enough. There’s something behind all this.

  PRAXAGORA. No, I call the goddesses to witness! I went running off; the poor woman who summoned me begged me to come, whatever might betide.

  BLEPYRUS. And why did you not take your mantle? Instead of that, you carry off mine, you throw your dress upon the bed and you leave me as the dead are left, bar the chaplets and perfumes.

  PRAXAGORA. ’Twas cold, and I am frail and delicate; I took your cloak for greater warmth, leaving you thoroughly warm yourself beneath your coverlets.

  BLEPYRUS. And my shoes and staff, those too went off with you?

  PRAXAGORA. I was afraid they might rob me of the cloak, and so, to look like a man, I put on your shoes and walked with a heavy tread and struck the stones with your staff.

  BLEPYRUS. D’you know you have made us lose a sextary of wheat, which I should have bought with the triobolus of the Assembly?

  PRAXAGORA. Be comforted, for she had a boy.

  BLEPYRUS. Who? the Assembly?

  PRAXAGORA. No, no, the woman I helped. But has the Assembly taken place then?

  BLEPYRUS. Did I not tell you of it yesterday?

  PRAXAGORA. True; I remember now.

  BLEPYRUS. And don’t you know the decrees that have been voted?

  PRAXAGORA. No indeed.

  BLEPYRUS. Go to! you can eat cuttle-fish now, for ’tis said the government is handed over to you.

  PRAXAGORA. To do what — to spin?

  BLEPYRUS. No, that you may rule …

  PRAXAGORA. What?

  BLEPYRUS. … over all public business.

  PRAXAGORA. Oh! by Aphrodité! how happy Athens will be!

  BLEPYRUS. Why so?

  PRAXAGORA. For a thousand reasons. None will dare now to do shameless deeds, to give false testimony or lay informations.

  BLEPYRUS. Stop! in the name of the gods! Do you want me to die of hunger?

  CHORUS. Good sir, let your wife speak.

  PRAXAGORA. There will be no more thieves, nor envious people, no more rags nor misery, no more abuse and no more prosecutions and lawsuits.

  BLEPYRUS. By Posidon! ’tis grand, if true.

  PRAXAGORA. The results will prove it; you will confess it, and even these good people (pointing to the spectators) will not be able to say a word.

  CHORUS. You have served your friends, but now it behoves you to apply your ability and your care to the welfare of the people. Devote the fecundity of your mind to the public weal; adorn the citizens’ lives with a thousand enjoyments and teach them to seize every favourable opportunity. Devise some ingenious method to secure the much-needed salvation of Athens; but let neither your acts nor your words recall anything of the past, for ’tis only innovations that please. Don’t delay the realization of your plans, for speedy execution is greatly esteemed by the public.

  PRAXAGORA. I believe my ideas are good, but what I fear is, that the public will cling to the old customs and refuse to accept my reforms.

  BLEPYRUS. Have no fear about that. Love of novelty and disdain for the past, these are the dominating principles among us.

  PRAXAGORA. Let none contradict nor interrupt me until I have explained my plan. I want all to have a share of everything and all property to be in common; there will no longer be either rich or poor; no longer shall we see one man harvesting vast tracts of land, while another has not ground enough to be buried in, nor one man surround himself with a whole army of slaves, while another has not a single attendant; I intend that there shall only be one and the same condition of life for all.

  BLEPYRUS. But how do you mean for all?

  PRAXAGORA. Go and eat your excrements!

  BLEPYRUS. Come, share and share alike!

  PRAXAGORA. No, no, but you shall not interrupt me. This is what I was going to say: I shall begin by making land, money, everything that is private property, common to all. Then we shall live on this common wealth, which we shall take care to administer with wise thrift.

  BLEPYRUS. And how about the man who has no land, but only gold and silver coins, that cannot be seen?

  PRAXAGORA. He must bring them to the common stock, and if he fails he will be a perjured man.

  BLEPYRUS. That won’t worry him much, for has he not gained them by perjury?

  PRAXAGORA. But his riches will no longer be of any use to him.

  BLEPYRUS. Why?

  PRAXAGORA. The poor will no longer be obliged to work; each will have all that he needs, bread, salt fish, cakes, tunics, wine, chaplets and chick-pease; of what advantage will it be to him not to contribute his share to the common wealth? What do you think of it?

  BLEPYRUS. But is it not the folk who rob most that have all these things?

  PRAXAGORA. Yes, formerly, under the old order of things; but now that all goods are in common, what will he gain by not bringing his wealth into the general stock?

  BLEPYRUS. If someone saw a pretty wench and wished to satisfy his fancy for her, he would take some of his reserve store to make her a present and stay the night with her; this would not prevent him claiming his share of the common property.

  PRAXAGORA. But he can sleep with her for nothing; I intend that women shall belong to all men in common, and each shall beget children by any man that wishes to have her.

  BLEPYRUS. But all will go to the prettiest woman and beseech her to go with him.

  PRAXAGORA. The ugliest and the most flat-nosed will be side by side with the most charming, and to win the latter’s favours, a man will first have to get into the former.

  BLEPYRUS. But we old men, shall we have penis enough if we have to satisfy the ugly first?

  PRAXAGORA. They will make no resistance.

  BLEPYRUS. To what?

  PRAXAGORA. Never fear; they will make no resistance.

  BLEPYRUS. Resistance to what?

  PRAXAGORA. To the pleasure of the thing. ’Tis thus that matters will be ordered for you.

  BLEPYRUS. ’Tis right well conceived for you women, for every wench’s hole will be occupied; but as regards us poor men, you will leave those who are ugly to run after the handsome fellows.

  PRAXAGORA. The ugly will follow the handsomest into the public places after supper and see to it that the law, which forbids the women to sleep with the big, handsome men before having satisfied the ugly shrimps, is complied with.


  BLEPYRUS. Thus ugly Lysicrates’ nose will be as proud as the handsomest face?

  PRAXAGORA. Yes, by Apollo! this is a truly popular decree, and what a set-back ‘twill be for one of those elegants with their fingers loaded with rings, when a man with heavy shoes says to him, “Give way to me and wait till I have done; you will pass in after me.”

  BLEPYRUS. But if we live in this fashion, how will each one know his children?

  PRAXAGORA. The youngest will look upon the oldest as their fathers.

  BLEPYRUS. Ah! how heartily they will strangle all the old men, since even now, when each one knows his father, they make no bones about strangling him! then, my word! won’t they just scorn and shit upon the old folks!

  PRAXAGORA. But those around will prevent it. Hitherto, when anyone saw an old man beaten, he would not meddle, because it did not concern him; but now each will fear the sufferer may be his own father and such violence will be stopped.

  BLEPYRUS. What you say is not so silly after all; but ’twould be highly unpleasant were Epicurus and Leucolophas to come up and call me father.

  PRAXAGORA. But ’twould be far worse, were …

  BLEPYRUS. Were what?

  PRAXAGORA. … Aristyllus to embrace you and style you his father.

  BLEPYRUS. Ah! let him look to himself if he dares!

  PRAXAGORA. For you would smell vilely of mint if he kissed you. But he was born before the decree was carried, so that you have not to fear his kiss.

  BLEPYRUS. ’Twould be awful. But who will do the work?

  PRAXAGORA. The slaves. Your only cares will be to scent yourself, and to go and dine, when the shadow of the gnomon is ten feet long on the dial.

  BLEPYRUS. But how shall we obtain clothing? Tell me that!

  PRAXAGORA. You will first wear out those you have, and then we women will weave you others.

  BLEPYRUS. Now another point: if the magistrates condemn a citizen to the payment of a fine, how is he going to do it? Out of the public funds? That would not be right surely.

  PRAXAGORA. But there will be no more lawsuits.

  BLEPYRUS. What a disaster for many people!

  PRAXAGORA. I have decreed it. Besides, friend, why should there be lawsuits?

  BLEPYRUS. Oh! for a thousand reasons, on my faith! Firstly, because a debtor denies his obligation.

  PRAXAGORA. But where will the lender get the money to lend, if all is in common? unless he steals it out of the treasury?

  BLEPYRUS. That’s true, by Demeter! But then again, tell me this; here are some men who are returning from a feast and are drunk and they strike some passer-by; how are they going to pay the fine? Ah! you are puzzled now!

  PRAXAGORA. They will have to take it out of their pittance; and being thus punished through their belly, they will not care to begin again.

  BLEPYRUS. There will be no more thieves then, eh?

  PRAXAGORA. Why steal, if you have a share of everything?

  BLEPYRUS. People will not be robbed any more at night?

  PRAXAGORA. No, whether you sleep at home or in the street, there will be no more danger, for all will have the means of living. Besides, if anyone wanted to steal your cloak, you would give it him yourself. Why not? You will only have to go to the common store and be given a better one.

  BLEPYRUS. There will be no more playing at dice?

  PRAXAGORA. What object will there be in playing?

  BLEPYRUS. But what kind of life is it you propose to set up?

  PRAXAGORA. The life in common. Athens will become nothing more than a single house, in which everything will belong to everyone; so that everybody will be able to go from one house to the other at pleasure.

  BLEPYRUS. And where will the meals be served?

  PRAXAGORA. The law-courts and the porticoes will be turned into dining-halls.

  BLEPYRUS. And what will the speaker’s platform be used for?

  PRAXAGORA. I shall place the bowls and the ewers there; and young children will sing the glory of the brave from there, also the infamy of cowards, who out of very shame will no longer dare to come to the public meals.

  BLEPYRUS. Well thought of, by Apollo! And what will you do with the urns?

  PRAXAGORA. I shall have them taken to the market-place, and standing close to the statue of Harmodius, I shall draw a lot for each citizen, which by its letter will show the place where he must go to dine. Thus, those for whom I have drawn a Beta, will go to the royal portico; if ’tis a Theta, they will go to the portico of Theseus; if ’tis a Kappa, to that of the flour-market.

  BLEPYRUS. To cram himself there like a capon?

  PRAXAGORA. No, to dine there.

  BLEPYRUS. And the citizen whom the lot has not given a letter showing where he is to dine will be driven off by everyone?

  PRAXAGORA. But that will not occur. Each man will have plenty; he will not leave the feast until he is well drunk, and then with a chaplet on his head and a torch in his hand; and then the women running to meet you in the cross-roads will say, “This way, come to our house, you will find a beautiful young girl there.”— “And I,” another will call from her balcony, “have one so pretty and as white as milk; but before touching her, you must sleep with me.” And the ugly men, watching closely after the handsome fellows, will say, “Hi! friend, where are you running to? Go in, but you must do nothing, for ’tis the ugly and the flat-nosed to whom the law gives the first right of admission; amuse yourself in the porch while you wait, in handling your fig-leaves and playing with your tool.” Well, tell me, does that picture suit you?

  BLEPYRUS. Marvellously well.

  PRAXAGORA. I must now go to the market-place to receive the property that is going to be placed in common and to choose a woman with a loud voice as my herald. I have all the cares of State on my shoulders, since the power has been entrusted to me. I must likewise go to busy myself about establishing the common meals, and you will attend your first banquet to-day.

  BLEPYRUS. Are we going to banquet?

  PRAXAGORA. Why, undoubtedly! Furthermore, I propose abolishing the courtesans.

  BLEPYRUS. And what for?

  PRAXAGORA. ’Tis clear enough why; so that, instead of them, we may have the first-fruits of the young men. It is not meet that tricked-out slaves should rob free-born women of their pleasures. Let the courtesans be free to sleep with the slaves and to depilate their privates for them.

  BLEPYRUS. I will march at your side, so that I may be seen and that everyone may say, “Admire our leader’s husband!” [Exeunt Blepyrus and Praxagora.

  [The Chorus which followed this scene is lost.]

  FIRST CITIZEN. Come, let us collect and examine all my belongings before taking them to the market-place. Come hither, my beautiful sieve, I have nothing more precious than you, come, all clotted with the flour of which I have poured so many sacks through you; you shall act the part of Canephoros in the procession of my chattels. Where is the sunshade carrier? Ah! this stew-pot shall take his place. Great gods, how black it is! it could not be more so if Lysicrates had boiled the drugs in it with which he dyes his hair. Hither, my beautiful mirror. And you, my tripod, bear this urn for me; you shall be the waterbearer; and you, cock, whose morning song has so often roused me in the middle of the night to send me hurrying to the Assembly, you shall be my flute-girl. Scaphephoros, do you take the large basin, place in it the honeycombs and twine the olive-branches over them, bring the tripods and the phial of perfume; as for the humble crowd of little pots, I will just leave them behind.

  SECOND CITIZEN. What folly to carry one’s goods to the common store; I have a little more sense than that. No, no, by Posidon, I want first to ponder and calculate over the thing at leisure. I shall not be fool enough to strip myself of the fruits of my toil and thrift, if it is not for a very good reason; let us see first, which way things turn. Hi! friend, what means this display of goods? Are you moving or are you going to pawn your stuff?

  FIRST CITIZEN. Neither.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Why then are you settin
g all these things out in line? Is it a procession that you are starting off to the public crier, Hiero?

  FIRST CITIZEN. No, but in accordance with the new law, that has been decreed, I am going to carry all these things to the marketplace to make a gift of them to the State.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Oh! bah! you don’t mean that.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Certainly.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Oh! Zeus the Deliverer! you unfortunate man!

  FIRST CITIZEN. Why?

  SECOND CITIZEN. Why? ’Tis as clear as noonday.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Must the laws not be obeyed then?

  SECOND CITIZEN. What laws, you poor fellow?

  FIRST CITIZEN. Those that have been decreed.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Decreed! Are you mad, I ask you?

  FIRST CITIZEN. Am I mad?

  SECOND CITIZEN. Oh! this is the height of folly!

  FIRST CITIZEN. Because I obey the law? Is that not the first duty of an honest man?

  SECOND CITIZEN. Say rather of a ninny.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Don’t you propose taking what belongs to you to the common stock?

  SECOND CITIZEN. I’ll take good care I don’t until I see what the majority are doing.

  FIRST CITIZEN. There’s but one opinion, namely, to contribute every single thing one has.

  SECOND CITIZEN. I am waiting to see it, before I believe that.

  FIRST CITIZEN. At least, so they say in every street.

  SECOND CITIZEN. And they will go on saying so.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Everyone talks of contributing all he has.

  SECOND CITIZEN. And will go on talking of it.

  FIRST CITIZEN. You weary me with your doubts and dubitations.

  SECOND CITIZEN. Everybody else will doubt it.

  FIRST CITIZEN. The pest seize you!

  SECOND CITIZEN. It will take you. What? give up your goods! Is there a man of sense who will do such a thing? Giving is not one of our customs. Receiving is another matter; ’tis the way of the gods themselves. Look at the position of their hands on their statues; when we ask a favour, they present their hands turned palm up so as not to give, but to receive.

  FIRST CITIZEN. Wretch, let me do what is right. Come, I’ll make a bundle of all these things. Where is my strap?

  SECOND CITIZEN. Are you really going to carry them in?