OLD LADY Pray, have we really reached, you dear old men, The very dwelling where this new God dwells? Or have we altogether missed the way?
CHORUS No, you have really reached his very door, You dear young girl; for girl-like is your speech.
OLD LADY O, then, I’ll summon one of those within.
CHREMYLUS Nay, for, unsummoned, I have just come out. So tell me freely what has brought you here.
OLD LADY O, sad, my dear, and anguished is my lot, For ever since this God began to see My life’s been not worth living; all through him.
CHREMYLUS What, were you too a she-informer then Amongst the women?
OLD LADY No indeed, not I.
CHREMYLUS Or, not elected, sat you judging—wine?
OLD LADY You jest; but I, poor soul, am misery-stung.
CHREMYLUS What kind of misery stings you? tell me quick.
OLD LADY Then listen. I’d a lad that loved me well, Poor, but so handsome, and so fair to see, Quite virtuous too; whate’er I wished, he did In such a nice and gentlemanly way; And what he wanted, I in turn supplied.
CHREMYLUS What were the things he asked you to supply?
OLD LADY Not many: so prodigious the respect In which he held me. ’Twould be twenty drachmas To buy a cloak and, maybe, eight for shoes; Then for his sisters he would want a gown, And just one mantle for his mother’s use, And twice twelve bushels of good wheat perchance.
CHREMYLUS Not many truly were the gifts he asked! ’Tis plain he held you in immense respect.
OLD LADY And these he wanted not for greed, he swore, But for love’s sake, that when my robe he wore, He might, by that, remember me the more.
CHREMYLUS A man prodigiously in love indeed!
OLD LADY Aye, but the scamp’s quite other-minded now. He’s altogether changed from what he was. So when I sent him this delicious cake, And all these bon-bons here upon the tray,
OLD LADY Adding a whispered message that I hoped To come at even—
CHREMYLUS Tell me what he did?
OLD LADY He sent them back, and sent this cream-cake too, Upon condition that I come no more; And said withal, Long since, in war’s alarms Were the Milesians lusty men-at-arms.
CHREMYLUS O, then the lad’s not vicious; now he’s rich He cares for broth no longer, though before, When he was poor, he snapped up anything.
OLD LADY O, by the Twain, and every day before, He used to come, a suppliant, to my door.
CHREMYLUS What, for your funeral?
OLD LADY No, he was but fain My voice to hear.
CHREMYLUS Your bounty to obtain.
OLD LADY When in the dumps, he’d smother me with love, Calling me “little duck” and “little dove.”
CHREMYLUS And then begged something for a pair of shoes.
OLD LADY And if perchance, when riding in my coach At the Great Mysteries, some gallant threw A glance my way, he’d beat me black and blue, So very jealous had the young man grown.
CHREMYLUS Aye, aye, he liked to eat his cake alone.
OLD LADY He vowed my hands were passing fair and white.
CHREMYLUS With twenty drachmas in them—well he might.
OLD LADY And much he praised the fragrance of my skin.
CHREMYLUS No doubt, no doubt, if Thasian you poured in.
OLD LADY And then he swore my glance was soft and sweet.
CHREMYLUS He was no fool: he knew the way to eat The goodly substance of a fond old dame.
OLD LADY O then, my dear, the God is much to blame. He said he’d right the injured, every one.
CHREMYLUS What shall he do? speak, and the thing is done.
OLD LADY He should, by Zeus, this graceless youth compel To recompense the love that loved him well; Or no good fortune on the lad should light.
CHREMYLUS Did he not then repay you every night?
OLD LADY He’d never leave me all my life, he said.
CHREMYLUS And rightly too; but now he counts you dead.
OLD LADY My dear, with love’s fierce pangs I’ve pined away.
CHREMYLUS Nay rather, grown quite rotten, I should say.
OLD LADY O, you could draw me through a ring, I know.
CHREMYLUS A ring? A hoop that round a sieve could go.
OLD LADY O, here comes he of whom I’ve been complaining All this long while; this is that very lad! Bound to some revel surely.
CHREMYLUS So it seems. At least, he has got the chaplets and the torch.
YOUTH Friends, I salute you.
OLD LADY Eh?
YOUTH Mine ancient flame, How very suddenly you’ve got grey hair.
OLD LADY O me, the insults I am forced to bear.
CHREMYLUS ’Tis years since last he saw you, I dare say.
OLD LADY What years, you wretch? He saw me yesterday!
CHREMYLUS Why then, his case is different from the rest; When in his cups, methinks, he sees the best.
OLD LADY No, this is just his naughty, saucy way.
YOUTH O Gods of eld! Poseidon of the Main! What countless wrinkles does her face contain!
OLD LADY O! O! Keep your torch off me, do.
CHREMYLUS In that she’s right. For if one spark upon her skin should light, ’Twould set her blazing, like a shrivelled wreath.
YOUTH Come, shall we play together?
OLD LADY Where? for shame!
YOUTH Here with some nuts.
OLD LADY And what’s your little game?
YOUTH How many teeth you’ve got.
CHREMYLUS How many teeth? I’ll make a guess at that. She’s three, no, four.
YOUTH Pay up; you’ve lost: one grinder, and no more.
OLD LADY Wretch, are you crazy that you make your friend A washing-pot before so many men?
YOUTH Were you well washed, ’twould do you good belike.
CHREMYLUS No, no, she’s got up for the market now. But if her white-lead paint were washed away, Too plain you’d see the tatters of her face.
OLD LADY So old and saucy! Are you crazy too?
YOUTH What, is he trying to corrupt you, love, Toying and fondling you when I’m not looking?
OLD LADY By Aphrodite, no, you villain you!
CHREMYLUS No, no, by Hecate, I’m not so daft. But come, my boy, I really can’t allow you To hate the girl.
YOUTH Hate her? I love her dearly
CHREMYLUS Yet she complains of—
YOUTH What?
CHREMYLUS Your flouts and jeers, Sending her word Long since, in war’s alarms Were the Milesians lusty men-at-arms.
YOUTH Well, I won’t fight you for her sake.
CHREMYLUS How mean you?
YOUTH For I respect your age, since be you sure It is not everybody I’d permit To take my girl. You, take her and begone.
CHREMYLUS I know, I know your drift; no longer now You’d keep her company.
OLD LADY Who’ll permit that?
YOUTH I won’t have anything to do with one Who has been the sport of thirteen thousand—suns.
CHREMYLUS But, howsoever, as you drank the wine, You should, in justice, also drink the dregs.
YOUTH Pheugh! they’re such very old and fusty dregs!
CHREMYLUS Won’t a dreg-strainer remedy all that?
YOUTH Well, go ye in. I want to dedicate The wreaths I am wearing to this gracious God.
OLD LADY Aye then, I want to tell him something too.
YOUTH Aye then, I’ll not go in.
CHREMYLUS Come, don’t be frightened. Why, she won’t ravish you.
YOUTH I’m glad to hear it. I’ve had enough of her in days gone by.
OLD LADY Come, go you on; I’ll follow close behind.
CHREMYLUS O Zeus and King, the ancient woman sticks Tight as a limpet to her poor young man.
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