MAGISTRATE
Has then the women’s wantonness blazed out,
MAGISTRATE Their constant timbrels and Sabaziuses, And that Adonis-dirge upon the roof Which once I heard in full Assembly-time. ’Twas when Demostratus (beshrew him) moved To sail to Sicily: and from the roof A woman, dancing, shrieked Woe, woe, Adonis! And he proposed to enrol Zacynthian hoplites; And she upon the roof, the maudlin woman, Cried Wail Adonis! yet he forced it through, That God-detested, vile Ill-temprian. Such are the wanton follies of the sex.
CHORUS OF MEN What if you heard their insolence to-day, Their vile, outrageous goings on? And look, See how they’ve drenched and soused us from their pitchers, Till we can wring out water from our clothes.
MAGISTRATE Ay, by Poseidon, and it serves us right. ’Tis all our fault: they’ll never know their place, These pampered women, whilst we spoil them so. Hear how we talk in every workman’s shop. Goldsmith, says one, this necklace that you made, My gay young wife was dancing yester-eve, And “Lost, sweet soul, the fastening of the clasp; Do please reset it, Goldsmith. Or, again, O Shoemaker, my wife’s new sandal pinches
MAGISTRATE Her little toe, the tender, delicate child, Make it fit easier, please—Hence all this nonsense! Yea, things have reached a pretty pass, indeed, When I, the State’s Director, wanting money To purchase oar-blades, find the Treasury gates Shut in my face by these preposterous women. Nay, but no dallying now: bring up the crowbars, And I’ll soon stop your insolence, my dears. What! gaping, fool? and you, can you do nothing But stare about with tavern-squinting eye? Push in the crowbars underneath the gates, You, stand that side and heave them: I’ll stop here And heave them here.
LYSISTRATA O let your crowbars be. Lo, I come out unfetched! What need of crowbars? ’Tis wits, not crowbars, that ye need to-day.
MAGISTRATE Ay, truly, traitress, say you so? Here, Archer! Arrest her, tie her hands behind her back.
LYSISTRATA And if he touch me with his finger-tip, The public scum! ’Fore Artemis, he’ll rue it.
MAGISTRATE What, man, afeared? why, catch her round the waist. And you go with him, quick, and bind her fast.
CALONICE (coming out) And if you do but lay one hand upon her, ’Fore Pandrosus, I’ll stamp your vitals out.
MAGISTRATE Vitals, ye hag? Another Archer, ho! Seize this one first, because she chatters so.
MYRRHINA (coming out) And if you touch her with your fingertip,
MYRRHINA ’Fore Phosphorus, you’ll need a cupping shortly.
MAGISTRATE Tcha! what’s all this? lay hold of this one, Archer! I’ll stop this sallying out, depend upon it.
STRATYLLIS And if he touch her, ’fore the Queen of Tauris, I’ll pull his squealing hairs out, one by one.
MAGISTRATE O dear! all’s up! I’ve never an archer left. Nay, but I swear we won’t be done by women. Come, Scythians, close your ranks, and all together Charge! Charge away, my hearties, and you’ll soon Know that we’ve here, impatient for the fight, Four woman-squadrons, armed from top to toe.
MAGISTRATE Attack them, Scythians, twist their hands behind them.
LYSISTRATA Forth to the fray, dear sisters, bold allies! O egg-and-seed-and-potherb-market-girls, O garlic-selling-barmaid-baking-girls, Charge to the rescue, smack and whack, and thwack them, Slang them, I say: show them what jades ye be. Fall back! retire! forbear to strip the slain.
MAGISTRATE Hillo! my archers got the worst of that.
LYSISTRATA What did the fool expect? Was it to fight With staves you came? Think you we Women feel No thirst for glory?
MAGISTRATE Thirst enough, I trow; No doubt of that, when there’s a tavern handy.
CHORUS OF MEN O thou who wastest many words, Director of this nation, Why wilt thou with such brutes as these thus hold negotiation?
CHORUS OF MEN Dost thou not see the bath wherewith the sluts have dared to lave me, Whilst all my clothes were on, and ne’er a bit of soap they gave me?
CHORUS OF WOMEN For ’tis not right, nor yet polite, to strike a harmless neighbour, And if you do, ’tis needful too that she your eyes belabour. Full fain would I, a maiden shy, in maiden peace be resting, Not making here the slightest stir, nor any soul molesting, Unless indeed some rogue should strive. to rifle and despoil my hive.
CHORUS OF MEN O how shall we treat, Lord Zeus, such creatures as these? Let us ask the cause for which they have dared to seize, To seize this fortress of ancient and high renown, This shrine where never a foot profane hath trod. The lofty-rocked, inaccessible Cranaan town, The holy Temple of God. Now to examine them closely and narrowly, robing them here and sounding them there, Shame if we fail to completely unravel the intricate web of this tangled affair.
MAGISTRATE Foremost and first I would wish to inquire of them, what is this silly disturbance about? Why have ye ventured to seize the Acropolis, locking the gates and barring us out?
LYSISTRATA Keeping the silver securely in custody, lest for its sake ye continue the war.
MAGISTRATE What, is the war for the sake of the silver, then?
LYSISTRATA Yes; and all other disputes that there are. Why is Peisander for ever embroiling us, why do the rest of our officers feel Always a pleasure in strife and disturbances? Simply to gain an occasion to steal. Act as they please for the future, the treasury never a penny shall yield them, I vow.
MAGISTRATE How, may I ask, will you hinder their getting it?
LYSISTRATA We will ourselves be the Treasurers now.
MAGISTRATE You, woman, you be the treasurers?
LYSISTRATA Certainly. Ah, you esteem us unable, perchance! Are we not skilled in domestic economy, do we not manage the household finance?
MAGISTRATE O, that is different.
LYSISTRATA Why is it different?
MAGISTRATE This is required for the fighting, my dear.
LYSISTRATA Well, but the fighting itself isn’t requisite.
MAGISTRATE Only, without it, we’re ruined, I fear.
LYSISTRATA WE will deliver you.
MAGISTRATE You will deliver us!
LYSISTRATA Truly we will.
MAGISTRATE What a capital notion!
LYSISTRATA Whether you like it or not, we’ll deliver you.
MAGISTRATE Impudent hussy!
LYSISTRATA You seem in commotion. Nevertheless we will do as we promise you.
MAGISTRATE That were a terrible shame, by Demeter.
LYSISTRATA Friend, we must save you.
MAGISTRATE But how if I wish it not?
LYSISTRATA That will but make our resolve the completer.
MAGISTRATE Fools! what on earth can possess you to meddle with matters of war, and matters of peace?
LYSISTRATA Well, I will tell you the reason.
MAGISTRATE And speedily, else you will rue it.
STRATYLLIS Then listen, and cease Clutching and clenching your fingers so angrily; keep yourself peaceable.
MAGISTRATE Hanged if I can; Such is the rage that I feel at your impudence.
STRATYLLIS Then it is you that will rue it, my man.
MAGISTRATE Croak your own fate, you ill-omened antiquity. (To Lysistrata) You be the spokeswoman, lady.
LYSISTRATA I will. Think of our old moderation and gentleness, think how we bore with your pranks, and were still, All through the days of your former pugnacity, all through the war that is over and spent: Not that (be sure) we approved of your policy; never our griefs you allowed us to vent. Well we perceived your mistakes and mismanagement. Often at home on our housekeeping cares, Often we heard of some foolish proposal you made for conducting the public affairs. Then would we question you mildly and pleasantly, inwardly grieving, but outwardly gay; Husband, how goes it abroad? we would ask of him; what have ye done in Assembly to-day? What would ye write on the side of the Treaty stone? Husband says angrily, What’s that to you?
LYSISTRATA You, hold your tongue! And I held it accordingly.
STRATYLLIS That is a thing which I Never would do!
MAGISTRATE Ma’am, if you hadn’t, you’d soon have repented it.
LYSISTRATA Therefore I held it, and spake not a word. Soon of another tremendous absurdity, wilder and worse than the former we heard. Husband, say, with a tender solicitude, Why have ye passed such a foolish decree? Vicious, moodily, glaring askance at me, Stick to your spinning, my mistress, says he, Else you will speedily find it the worse for you, War IS THE CARE AND THE BUSINESS OF MEN!
MAGISTRATE Zeus! ’twas a worthy reply, and an excellent!
LYSISTRATA What! you unfortunate, shall we not then, Then, when we see you perplexed and incompetent, shall we not tender advice to the State? So when aloud in the streets and the thoroughfares sadly we heard you bewailing of late, Is there a Man to defend and deliver us? No, says another, there’s none in the land; Then by the Women assembled in conference jointly a great Revolution was planned, Hellas to save from her grief and perplexity. Where is the use of a longer delay? Shift for the future our parts and our characters; you, as the women, in silence obey; We, as the men, will harangue and provide for you; then shall the State be triumphant again, Then shall we do what is best for the citizens.
MAGISTRATE Women to do what is best for the men! That were a shameful reproach and unbearable!
LYSISTRATA Silence, old gentleman.
MAGISTRATE Silence for you? Stop for a wench with a wimple enfolding her? No, by the Powers, may I die if I do!
LYSISTRATA Do not, my pretty one, do not, I pray, Suffer my wimple to stand in the way. Here, take it, and wear it, and gracefully tie it, Enfolding it over your head, and be quiet. Now to your task.
CALONICE Here is an excellent spindle to pull.
MYRRHINA Here is a basket for carding the wool.
LYSISTRATA Now to your— Haricots chawing up, petti-oats drawing up, Off to your carding, your combing, your trimming, War IS THE CARE AND THE BUSINESS OF WOMEN.
CHORUS OF WOMEN Up, up, and leave the pitchers there, and on, resolved and eager, Our own allotted part to bear in this illustrious leaguer. I will dance with resolute, tireless feet all day; My limbs shall never grow faint, my strength give way; I will march all lengths with the noble hearts and the true, For theirs is the ready wit and the patriot hand, And womanly grace, and courage to dare and do, And Love of our own bright land. Children of stiff and intractable grandmothers, heirs of the stinging viragoes that bore you,
CHORUS OF WOMEN On, with an eager, unyielding tenacity, wind in your sails, and the haven before you.
LYSISTRATA Only let Love, the entrancing, the fanciful, only let Queen Aphrodite to-day Breathe on our persons a charm and a tenderness, lend us their own irresistible sway, Drawing the men to admire us and long for us; then shall the war everlastingly cease, Then shall the people revere us and honour us, givers of Joy, and givers of Peace.
MAGISTRATE Tell us the mode and the means of your doing it.
LYSISTRATA First we will stop the disorderly crew, Soldiers in arms promenading and marketing.
STRATYLLIS Yea, by divine Aphrodite, ’tis true.
LYSISTRATA Now in the market you see them like Corybants, jangling about with their armour of mail. Fiercely they stalk in the midst of the crockery, sternly parade by the cabbage and kail.
MAGISTRATE Right, for a soldier should always be soldierly!
LYSISTRATA Troth, ’tis a mighty ridiculous jest, Watching them haggle for shrimps in the market-place, grimly accoutred with shield and with crest.
STRATYLLIS Lately I witnessed a captain of cavalry, proudly the while on his charger he sat, Witnessed him, soldierly, buying an omelet, stowing it all in his cavalry hat. Comes, like a Tereus, a Thracian irregular, shaking his dart and his target to boot;
FIRST WOMAN Off runs a shop-girl, appalled at the sight of him, down he sits soldierly, gobbles her fruit.
MAGISTRATE You, I presume, could adroitly and gingerly settle this intricate, tangled concern: You in a trice could relieve our perplexities.
LYSISTRATA Certainly.
MAGISTRATE How? permit me to learn.
LYSISTRATA Just as a woman, with nimble dexterity, thus with her hands disentangles a skein, Hither and thither her spindles unravel it, drawing it out, and pulling it plain. So would this weary Hellenic entanglement soon be resolved by our womanly care, So would our embassies neatly unravel it, drawing it here and pulling it there.
MAGISTRATE Wonderful, marvellous feats, not a doubt of it, you with your skeins and your spindles can show; Fools! do you really expect to unravel a terrible war like a bundle of tow?
LYSISTRATA Ah, if you only could manage your politics just in the way that we deal with a fleece!
MAGISTRATE Tell us the recipe.
LYSISTRATA First, in the washing-tub plunge it, and scour it, and cleanse it from grease, Purging away all the filth and the nastiness; then on the table expand it and lay, Beating out all that is worthless and mischievous, picking the burrs and the thistles away. Next, for the clubs, the cabals, and the coteries, banding unrighteously, office to win,
LYSISTRATA Treat them as clots in the wool, and dissever them, lopping the heads that are forming therein Then you should card it, and comb it, and mingle it, all in one Basket of love and of unity, Citizens, visitors, strangers, and sojourners, all the entire, undivided community. Know you a fellow in debt to the Treasury? Mingle him merrily in with the rest. Also remember the cities, our colonies, outlying states in the east and the west, Scattered about to a distance surrounding us, these are our shreds and our fragments of wool; These to one mighty political aggregate tenderly, carefully, gather and pull, Twining them all in one thread of good fellowship; thence a magnificent bobbin to spin, Weaving a garment of comfort and dignity, worthily wrapping the People therein.
MAGISTRATE Heard any ever the like of their impudence, these who have nothing to do with the war, Preaching of bobbins, and beatings, and washing-tubs?
LYSISTRATA Nothing to do with it, wretch that you are! We are the people who feel it the keenliest, doubly on us the affliction is cast; Where are the sons that we sent to your battle-fields?
MAGISTRATE Silence! a truce to the ills that are past.
LYSISTRATA Then in the glory and grace of our womanhood, all in the May and the morning of life, Lo, we are sitting forlorn and disconsolate, what has a soldier to do with a wife? We might endure it, but ah! for the younger ones, still in their maiden apartments they stay, Waiting the husband that never approaches them, watching the years that are gliding away.
MAGISTRATE Men, I suppose, have their youth everlastingly.
LYSISTRATA Nay, but it isn’t the same with a man: Grey though he be when he comes from the battlefield, still if he wishes to marry, he can. Brief is the spring and the flower of our womanhood, once let it slip, and it comes not again; Sit as we may with our spells and our auguries, never a husband will marry us then.
MAGISTRATE Truly whoever is able to wed—
LYSISTRATA Truly, old fellow, ’tis time you were dead. So a pig shall be sought, and an urn shall be bought, And I’ll bake you and make you a funeral cake. Take it and go.
CALONICE Here are the fillets all ready to wear.
MYRRHINA Here is the chaplet to bind in your hair.
LYSISTRATA Take it and go. What are you prating for? What are you waiting for? Charon is staying, delaying his crew, Charon is calling and bawling for you.
MAGISTRATE See, here’s an outrage! here’s a scandalous shame! I’ll run and show my fellow magistrates The woeful, horrid, dismal plight I’m in.
LYSISTRATA Grumbling because we have not laid you out? Wait for three days, and then with dawn will come, All in good time, the third-day funeral rites.
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