WOMEN

No, by the Paphian.

LYSISTRATA

Still I can conjure them as past were the herbs stand or crockery’s sold

Like Corybants jingling (poor sots) fully armoured, they noisily round

on their promenade strolled.

MAGISTRATE

And rightly; that’s discipline, they–

LYSISTRATA

But what’s sillier than to go on an errand of buying a fish

Carrying along an immense. Gorgon-buckler instead the usual platter

or dish?

A phylarch I lately saw, mounted on horse-back, dressed for the part

with long ringlets and all,

Stow in his helmet the omelet bought steaming from an old woman who

kept a food-stall.

Nearby a soldier, a Thracian, was shaking wildly his spear like Tereus

in the play,

To frighten a fig-girl while unseen the ruffian filched from her

fruit-trays the ripest away.

MAGISTRATE

How, may I ask, will your rule re-establish order and justice in lands

so tormented?

LYSISTRATA

Nothing is easier.

MAGISTRATE

Out with it speedily–what is this plan that you boast you’ve invented?

LYSISTRATA

If, when yarn we are winding, It chances to tangle, then, as perchance you

may know, through the skein

This way and that still the spool we keep passing till it is finally clear

all again:

So to untangle the War and its errors, ambassadors out on all sides we will

send

This way and that, here, there and round about–soon you will find that the

War has an end.

MAGISTRATE

So with these trivial tricks of the household, domestic analogies of

threads, skeins and spools,

You think that you’ll solve such a bitter complexity, unwind such political

problems, you fools!

LYSISTRATA

Well, first as we wash dirty wool so’s to cleanse it, so with a pitiless

zeal we will scrub

Through the whole city for all greasy fellows; burrs too, the parasites,

off we will rub.

That verminous plague of insensate place-seekers soon between thumb and

forefinger we’ll crack.

All who inside Athens’ walls have their dwelling into one great common

basket we’ll pack.

Disenfranchised or citizens, allies or aliens, pell-mell the lot of them

in we will squeeze.

Till they discover humanity’s meaning…. As for disjointed and far

colonies,

Them you must never from this time imagine as scattered about just like

lost hanks of wool.

Each portion we’ll take and wind in to this centre, inward to Athens

each loyalty pull,

Till from the vast heap where all’s piled together at last can be woven

a strong Cloak of State.

MAGISTRATE

How terrible is it to stand here and watch them carding and winding at

will with our fate,

Witless in war as they are.

LYSISTRATA

What of us then, who ever in vain for our children must weep

Borne but to perish afar and in vain?

MAGISTRATE

Not that, O let that one memory sleep!

LYSISTRATA

Then while we should be companioned still merrily, happy as brides may,

the livelong night,

Kissing youth by, we are forced to lie single…. But leave for a moment

our pitiful plight,

It hurts even more to behold the poor maidens helpless wrinkling in

staler virginity.

MAGISTRATE

Does not a man age?

LYSISTRATA

Not in the same way. Not as a woman grows withered, grows he.

He, when returned from the war, though grey-headed, yet

if he wishes can choose out a wife.

But she has no solace save peering for omens, wretched and

lonely the rest of her life.

MAGISTRATE

But the old man will often select–

LYSISTRATA

O why not finish and die?

A bier is easy to buy,

A honey-cake I’ll knead you with joy,

This garland will see you are decked.

CALONICE

I’ve a wreath for you too.

MYRRHINE

I also will fillet you.

LYSISTRATA

What more is lacking? Step aboard the boat.

See, Charon shouts ahoy.

You’re keeping him, he wants to shove afloat.

MAGISTRATE

Outrageous insults! Thus my place to flout!

Now to my fellow-magistrates I’ll go

And what you’ve perpetrated on me show.

LYSISTRATA

Why are you blaming us for laying you out?

Assure yourself we’ll not forget to make

The third day offering early for your sake.

MAGISTRATE retires, LYSISTRATA returns within.

OLD MEN.

All men who call your loins your own, awake at last, arise

And strip to stand in readiness. For as it seems to me

Some more perilous offensive in their heads they now devise.

I’m sure a Tyranny

Like that of Hippias

In this I detect….

They mean to put us under

Themselves I suspect,

And that Laconians assembling

At Cleisthenes’ house have played

A trick-of-war and provoked them

Madly to raid

The Treasury, in which term I include

The Pay for my food.

For is it not preposterous

They should talk this way to us

On a subject such as battle!

And, women as they are, about bronze bucklers dare prattle–

Make alliance with the Spartans–people I for one

Like very hungry wolves would always most sincere shun….

Some dirty game is up their sleeve,

I believe.

A Tyranny, no doubt… but they won’t catch me, that know.

Henceforth on my guard I’ll go,

A sword with myrtle-branches wreathed for ever in my hand,

And under arms in the Public Place I’ll take my watchful stand,

Shoulder to shoulder with Aristogeiton. Now my staff I’ll draw

And start at once by knocking

that shocking

Hag upon the jaw.

WOMEN.

Your own mother will not know you when you get back to the town.

But first, my friends and allies, let us lay these garments down,

And all ye fellow-citizens, hark to me while I tell

What will aid Athens well.

Just as is right, for I

Have been a sharer

In all the lavish splendour

Of the proud city.

I bore the holy vessels

At seven, then

I pounded barley

At the age of ten,

And clad in yellow robes,

Soon after this,

I was Little Bear to

Brauronian Artemis;

Then neckletted with figs,

Grown tall and pretty,

I was a Basket-bearer,

And so it’s obvious I should

Give you advice that I think good,

The very best I can.

It should not prejudice my voice that I’m not born a man,

If I say something advantageous to the present situation.

For I’m taxed too, and as a toll provide men for the nation

While, miserable greybeards, you,

It is true,

Contribute nothing of any importance whatever to our needs;

But the treasure raised against the Medes

You’ve squandered, and do nothing in return, save that you make

Our lives and persons hazardous by some imbecile mistakes

What can you answer? Now be careful, don’t arouse my spite,

Or with my slipper I’ll take you napping,

faces slapping

Left and right.

MEN.

What villainies they contrive!

Come, let vengeance fall,

You that below the waist are still alive,

Off with your tunics at my call–

Naked, all.

For a man must strip to battle like a man.

No quaking, brave steps taking, careless what’s ahead, white shoed,

in the nude, onward bold,

All ye who garrisoned Leipsidrion of old….

Let each one wag

As youthfully as he can,

And if he has the cause at heart

Rise at least a span.

We must take a stand and keep to it,

For if we yield the smallest bit

To their importunity.

Then nowhere from their inroads will be left to us immunity.

But they’ll be building ships and soon their navies will attack us,

As Artemisia did, and seek to fight us and to sack us.

And if they mount, the Knights they’ll rob

Of a job,

For everyone knows how talented they all are in the saddle,

Having long practised how to straddle;

No matter how they’re jogged there up and down, they’re never thrown.

Then think of Myron’s painting, and each horse-backed Amazon

In combat hand-to-hand with men…. Come, on these women fall,

And in pierced wood-collars let’s stick

quick

The necks of one and all.

WOMEN.

Don’t cross me or I’ll loose

The Beast that’s kennelled here….

And soon you will be howling for a truce,

Howling out with fear.

But my dear,

Strip also, that women may battle unhindered….

But you, you’ll be too sore to eat garlic more, or one black bean,

I really mean, so great’s my spleen, to kick you black and blue

With these my dangerous legs.

I’ll hatch the lot of you,

If my rage you dash on,

The way the relentless Beetle

Hatched the Eagle’s eggs.

Scornfully aside I set

Every silly old-man threat

While Lampito’s with me.

Or dear Ismenia, the noble Theban girl. Then let decree

Be hotly piled upon decree; in vain will be your labours,

You futile rogue abominated by your suffering neighbour

To Hecate’s feast I yesterday went.

Off I sent

To our neighbours in Boeotia, asking as a gift to me

For them to pack immediately

That darling dainty thing … a good fat eel [1] I meant of course;

[Footnote 1:Vide supra, p. 23.]

But they refused because some idiotic old decree’s in force.

O this strange passion for decrees nothing on earth can check,

Till someone puts a foot out tripping you,

and slipping you

Break your neck.

LYSISTRATA enters in dismay.

WOMEN

Dear Mistress of our martial enterprise,

Why do you come with sorrow in your eyes?

LYSISTRATA

O ’tis our naughty femininity,

So weak in one spot, that hath saddened me.

WOMEN

What’s this? Please speak.

LYSISTRATA

Poor women, O so weak!

WOMEN

What can it be? Surely your friends may know.

LYSISTRATA

Yea, I must speak it though it hurt me so.

WOMEN

Speak; can we help? Don’t stand there mute in need.

LYSISTRATA

I’ll blurt it out then–our women’s army’s mutinied.

WOMEN

O Zeus!

LYSISTRATA

What use is Zeus to our anatomy?

Here is the gaping calamity I meant:

I cannot shut their ravenous appetites

A moment more now. They are all deserting.

The first I caught was sidling through the postern

Close by the Cave of Pan: the next hoisting herself

With rope and pulley down: a third on the point

Of slipping past: while a fourth malcontent, seated

For instant flight to visit Orsilochus

On bird-back, I dragged off by the hair in time….

They are all snatching excuses to sneak home.

Look, there goes one…. Hey, what’s the hurry?

1ST WOMAN

I must get home. I’ve some Milesian wool

Packed wasting away, and moths are pushing through it.

LYSISTRATA

Fine moths indeed, I know. Get back within.

1ST WOMAN

By the Goddesses, I’ll return instantly.

I only want to stretch it on my bed.

LYSISTRATA

You shall stretch nothing and go nowhere either.

1ST WOMAN

Must I never use my wool then?

LYSISTRATA

If needs be.

2ND WOMAN

How unfortunate I am! O my poor flax!

It’s left at home unstript.

LYSISTRATA

So here’s another

That wishes to go home and strip her flax.

Inside again!

2ND WOMAN

No, by the Goddess of Light,

I’ll be back as soon as I have flayed it properly.

LYSISTRATA

You’ll not flay anything. For if you begin

There’ll not be one here but has a patch to be flayed.

3RD WOMAN

O holy Eilithyia, stay this birth

Till I have left the precincts of the place!

LYSISTRATA

What nonsense is this?

3RD WOMAN

I’ll drop it any minute.

LYSISTRATA

Yesterday you weren’t with child.

3RD WOMAN

But I am today.

O let me find a midwife, Lysistrata.

O quickly!

LYSISTRATA

Now what story is this you tell?

What is this hard lump here?

3RD WOMAN

It’s a male child.

LYSISTRATA

By Aphrodite, it isn’t. Your belly’s hollow,

And it has the feel of metal…. Well, I soon can see.

You hussy, it’s Athene’s sacred helm,

And you said you were with child.

3RD WOMAN

And so I am.

LYSISTRATA

Then why the helm?

3RD WOMAN

So if the throes should take me

Still in these grounds I could use it like a dove

As a laying-nest in which to drop the child.

LYSISTRATA

More pretexts! You can’t hide your clear intent,

And anyway why not wait till the tenth day

Meditating a brazen name for your brass brat?

WOMAN

And I can’t sleep a wink. My nerve is gone

Since I saw that snake-sentinel of the shrine.

WOMAN

And all those dreadful owls with their weird hooting!

Though I’m wearied out, I can’t close an eye.

LYSISTRATA

You wicked women, cease from juggling lies.

You want your men. But what of them as well?

They toss as sleepless in the lonely night,

I’m sure of it. Hold out awhile, hold out,

But persevere a teeny-weeny longer.

An oracle has promised Victory

If we don’t wrangle. Would you hear the words?

WOMEN

Yes, yes, what is it?

LYSISTRATA

Silence then, you chatterboxes.

Here–

Whenas the swallows flocking in one place from the hoopoes

Deny themselves love’s gambols any more,

All woes shall then have ending and great Zeus the Thunderer

Shall put above what was below before.

WOMEN

Will the men then always be kept under us?

LYSISTRATA

But if the swallows squabble among themselves and fly away

Out of the temple, refusing to agree,

Then The Most Wanton Birds in all the World

They shall be named for ever. That’s his decree.

WOMAN

It’s obvious what it means.

LYSISTRATA

Now by all the gods

We must let no agony deter from duty,

Back to your quarters. For we are base indeed,

My friends, if we betray the oracle.

She goes out.

OLD MEN.

I’d like to remind you of a fable they used to employ,

When I was a little boy:

How once through fear of the marriage-bed a young man,

Melanion by name, to the wilderness ran,

And there on the hills he dwelt.

For hares he wove a net

Which with his dog he set–

Most likely he’s there yet.

For he never came back home, so great was the fear he felt.

I loathe the sex as much as he,

And therefore I no less shall be

As chaste as was Melanion.

MAN

Grann’am, do you much mind men?

WOMAN

Onions you won’t need, to cry.

MAN

From my foot you shan’t escape.