Lysistrata

LYSISTRATA If someone had invited them to a Bacchic revel, or to the shrine of Pan, or to Colias, or to Genetyllis, you couldn't even have got through for the din of the kettledrums. But as it is, not a single woman is here—except this neighbor of mine, who's just coming out. Good day, Calonice!

CALONICE And to you, Lysistrata. Why so distraught? Don't scowl, my child; it doesn't become you to draw your eyebrows into a bow.

LYSISTRATA But Calonice, my heart is on fire, and I'm deeply pained on behalf of us women, because among the men we're reckoned to be sly creatures—

CALONICE And so we are, by Zeus.

LYSISTRATA —and yet, when they were told to meet here to take counsel about no trivial matter, they're asleep and haven't come.

CALONICE But they'll come, my dear. It's hard for women to get out of the house. One of us is fussing over her husband, one waking the servant, one putting the baby to bed, one washing it, one feeding it a morsel.

LYSISTRATA But there were other things more pressing to them than these.

CALONICE What is it, dear Lysistrata, that you're calling us women together for? What's the matter? How big a thing?

LYSISTRATA Big.

CALONICE And thick too?

LYSISTRATA Yes, by Zeus, thick as well.

CALONICE Then how is it we haven't come running?

LYSISTRATA That's not the kind of thing—or we'd have gathered quickly enough. No, it's a matter I've been working over, tossed about through many sleepless nights.

CALONICE It must be a fine and subtle thing, this thing you've been tossing about.

LYSISTRATA So subtle that the salvation of all Greece lies in the hands of the women.

CALONICE In the hands of the women? Then it rests on a slender support indeed.

LYSISTRATA The affairs of the city are in our hands—or else there'll be no more Peloponnesians—

CALONICE Best they should be no more, by Zeus.

LYSISTRATA —and all the Boeotians utterly destroyed.

CALONICE Not all of them, please—spare the eels.

LYSISTRATA About Athens I won't utter any such thing; but you, supply the words for me. But if the women gather here—those from Boeotia, those from the Peloponnese, and we ourselves—then together we'll save Greece.

CALONICE What sensible or splendid thing could women do, who sit at home all decked out in flowers, wearing saffron gowns and prettily made up, with Cimmerian shifts and slippers?

LYSISTRATA Why, those are the very things I expect to be our salvation—the little saffron gowns and the perfumes and the slippers and the rouge and the see-through shifts.

CALONICE In what way, then?

LYSISTRATA So that not one of the men now living will lift his spear against another—

CALONICE Then by the two Goddesses, I'll have a saffron gown dyed!

LYSISTRATA —nor take up a shield—

CALONICE I'll put on a Cimmerian shift!

LYSISTRATA —nor so much as a little dagger.

CALONICE I'll get myself slippers!

LYSISTRATA So shouldn't the women have been here by now?

CALONICE By Zeus, yes—they ought to have come flying long ago!

LYSISTRATA But my dear, you'll see they're thoroughly Attic—doing everything later than they ought. And not a single woman is here from the coast, nor from Salamis.

CALONICE But those women, I'm sure, have been astride their craft and crossing over since dawn.

LYSISTRATA Not even the ones I expected and reckoned would be first to arrive here—the women of Acharnae—have come.

CALONICE Well, Theogenes's wife consulted her statue of Hecate about coming here. But look—here come some women now, approaching you. And here come some others too. Hurrah, hurrah! Where are they from?

LYSISTRATA From Anagyrus.

CALONICE By Zeus—the stinking bean-plant of Anagyrus seems to have been stirred up!

MYRRHINE Are we late, Lysistrata? What do you say? Why are you silent?

LYSISTRATA I don't praise you, Myrrhine, for only just arriving on a matter like this.

MYRRHINE It was hard to find my girdle in the dark. But if it's so very urgent, tell us who are here.

LYSISTRATA By Zeus, no—let's wait a little while for the women from Boeotia and the Peloponnese to come.

MYRRHINE You speak much better. And here's Lampito approaching.

LYSISTRATA Welcome, dearest Spartan, Lampito! How your beauty shines, sweetest of women! How fresh your color, how firm your body! You could throttle a bull!

LAMPITO Yes, I dare say I could, by the two gods—for I exercise, and I jump heel to buttock.

CALONICE What a lovely pair of breasts you have!

LAMPITO You're feeling me over like a victim for sacrifice!

LYSISTRATA And this other young woman—where is she from?

LAMPITO She comes to you, by the two gods, as an envoy from Boeotia.

MYRRHINE By Zeus, a Boeotian indeed—she has a lovely lowland.

CALONICE Yes, by Zeus—and very neatly trimmed of its pennyroyal!

LYSISTRATA And who's the other girl?

LAMPITO A fine creature, by the two gods—a Corinthian.

CALONICE A fine creature, by Zeus—that's plain to see from these parts of her here.

LAMPITO But who has called together this gathering of women?

LYSISTRATA I have.

LAMPITO Then explain to us what it is you want of us.

CALONICE Yes, by Zeus, dear woman—tell us this serious business of yours, whatever it is.

LYSISTRATA I'll tell you presently. But before I speak, I'll ask you one small thing.

CALONICE Whatever you like.

LYSISTRATA Don't you long for the fathers of your children, away on campaign? For I'm sure that every one of you has a husband abroad.

CALONICE My husband, at any rate, poor me, has been away five months in Thrace, keeping watch over Eucrates.

MYRRHINE And mine seven whole months at Pylos.

LAMPITO And mine, if ever he comes home from the ranks, takes up his shield-grip and is off and gone again on the wing.

LYSISTRATA And there isn't even a spark of a lover left! For ever since the Milesians betrayed us, I haven't seen even a six-inch leather comforter, which might have been a leathern relief to us. So would you be willing, if I could find a way, to join me in putting an end to the war?

CALONICE By the two Goddesses, I would—even if I had to pawn this very robe and drink up the price this very day!

MYRRHINE And I'd be willing, I think, to split myself in two like a flatfish and give half of myself!

LAMPITO And I'd climb to the top of Taygetus, if I were likely to catch sight of peace there.

LYSISTRATA Then I'll tell you—there's no need to keep the plan hidden. We women, if we're to compel the men to keep peace, must abstain—

CALONICE From what? Tell us.

LYSISTRATA Will you do it, then?

CALONICE We'll do it, even if we have to die!

LYSISTRATA Then we must abstain from the prick. Why do you turn away from me? Where are you going? You there, why do you purse your lips and shake your heads? Why has your color changed? Why is a tear running down? Will you do it, or won't you? What are you waiting for?

CALONICE I couldn't do it—let the war drag on.

MYRRHINE By Zeus, nor could I—let the war drag on.

LYSISTRATA Is this what you say, you flatfish? Why, just now you said you'd split yourself in half!

CALONICE Anything else—whatever you like! Even if I have to walk through fire, I'm willing—that, rather than give up the prick. There's nothing like it, dear Lysistrata.

LYSISTRATA And what about you?

ANOTHER WOMAN I too would rather walk through fire.

LYSISTRATA O our whole sex, utterly lewd from top to bottom! No wonder the tragedies are made about us—we're nothing but "Poseidon and a tub." But dear Spartan, if you alone would side with me, we might yet rescue the cause. Vote with me!

LAMPITO It's hard, by the two gods, for women to sleep alone without a prick. But all the same—we do badly need peace.

LYSISTRATA O dearest of women—you alone of these are a true woman!

CALONICE But suppose we did abstain, as best we could, from what you say—which heaven forbid—would peace come any more for that?

LYSISTRATA Far more, by the two Goddesses. For if we sat at home all powdered and made up, and passed by them naked in our sheer Amorgos shifts, with our deltas trimmed, and the men got stiff and longed to make love, but we didn't go near them but held off, they'd make a truce quickly enough—I know it well.

LAMPITO Why, Menelaus, when he caught a glimpse of Helen's bare apples, threw away his sword, I think.

CALONICE But what if the men just let us go, my dear?

LYSISTRATA Then, as Pherecrates says, we must "skin the skinned dog."

CALONICE That's nonsense, those imitation things. But what if they take us and drag us into the bedroom by force?

LYSISTRATA Hold on to the doors.

CALONICE And if they beat us?

LYSISTRATA Then submit, but with a bad grace. There's no pleasure in these things taken by force. And you must torment them in other ways too; never fear, they'll give it up very soon. For a man will never enjoy himself unless it suits the woman.

CALONICE Well, if this seems good to you two, it seems good to us as well.

LAMPITO And we'll persuade our men to keep a just and honest peace, every one of them. But the Athenian rabble—how could anyone persuade them not to play the fool?

LYSISTRATA Never fear, we'll persuade our own people.

LAMPITO Not while their triremes have feet under them, and the bottomless treasure of silver sits there beside your goddess.

LYSISTRATA But that too has been well provided for: we'll seize the Acropolis today. The eldest women have been assigned to do this, while we arrange these matters—pretending to sacrifice, they'll seize the Acropolis.

LAMPITO That should do nicely; you put it well there too.

LYSISTRATA Then why don't we swear it as quickly as possible, Lampito, so the bond may be unbreakable?

LAMPITO Set out the oath, then, so we may swear it.

LYSISTRATA Well said. Where's the Scythian girl? Where are you looking? Set the shield down before us, upside-down, and let someone give me the entrails.

CALONICE Lysistrata, what oath will you make us swear?

LYSISTRATA What oath? Over a shield, as they say once in Aeschylus, slaughtering a sheep.

CALONICE Don't you, Lysistrata, swear over a shield anything about peace!

LYSISTRATA Then what would the oath be?

CALONICE What if we got a white horse from somewhere and sacrificed it over the entrails?

LYSISTRATA Where would we get a white horse?

CALONICE Then how shall we swear?

LYSISTRATA I'll tell you, by Zeus, if you like. Let's set a big black cup upside-down, slaughter a jar of Thasian wine, and swear over the cup not to pour in any water.

LAMPITO Ah me, how beyond words I approve that oath!

LYSISTRATA Let someone bring a cup and a jar from inside.

MYRRHINE Dearest women, what a great crock!

CALONICE Just to take hold of this would put one in a good mood at once.

LYSISTRATA Set it down, and lay hold with me of the boar. O Lady Persuasion, and cup of fellowship, receive this sacrifice graciously for the women.

CALONICE The blood's a fine color, and it gushes out nicely.

LAMPITO And by Castor, it has a sweet smell too.

MYRRHINE Let me be the first to swear, women!

CALONICE By Aphrodite, no—not unless you draw the first lot.

LYSISTRATA Lay hold of the cup, all of you, Lampito. Let one of you say on behalf of you all the words I say, and you'll swear the same and ratify them. "There is no man, neither lover nor husband—"

CALONICE "There is no man, neither lover nor husband—"

LYSISTRATA "—who shall approach me with his member up." Say it.

CALONICE "—who shall approach me with his member up." Oh dear, my knees are giving way, Lysistrata!

LYSISTRATA "At home I'll live out my life unbulled—"

CALONICE "At home I'll live out my life unbulled—"

LYSISTRATA "—in a saffron gown and all made up—"

CALONICE "—in a saffron gown and all made up—"

LYSISTRATA "—so that my husband may burn for me as much as possible;"

CALONICE "—so that my husband may burn for me as much as possible;"

LYSISTRATA "and never willingly will I yield to my husband."

CALONICE "and never willingly will I yield to my husband."

LYSISTRATA "And if he forces me against my will—"

CALONICE "And if he forces me against my will—"

LYSISTRATA "—I'll submit grudgingly and not thrust back."

CALONICE "—I'll submit grudgingly and not thrust back."

LYSISTRATA "I'll not raise my Persian slippers toward the ceiling."

CALONICE "I'll not raise my Persian slippers toward the ceiling."

LYSISTRATA "I'll not stand like the lioness on the cheese-grater."

CALONICE "I'll not stand like the lioness on the cheese-grater."

LYSISTRATA "If I keep this oath, may I drink from this cup;"

CALONICE "If I keep this oath, may I drink from this cup;"

LYSISTRATA "but if I break it, may the cup be filled with water."

CALONICE "but if I break it, may the cup be filled with water."

LYSISTRATA Do you all swear to this together?

MYRRHINE By Zeus, yes.

LYSISTRATA Come, let me consecrate this cup.

CALONICE Only your share, dear—so that we may be friends with each other from the very start.

LAMPITO What's that cry of triumph?

LYSISTRATA It's what I was telling you: the women have already seized the goddess's Acropolis. So, Lampito, you go and set things in order among your people, and leave these women here with us as hostages. And we'll go in and help the others in the city ram the bolts home.

CALONICE But don't you think the men will come at once to help against us?

LYSISTRATA I care little for them. They won't come with threats or fire enough to open these gates, except on the terms we've stated.

CALONICE By Aphrodite, never! Otherwise we'd have earned our name—unfightable, foul women.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Move on, Draces, lead the way, even if your shoulder aches under the great weight of this green olive-log you're carrying.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Ah, how many unexpected things there are in a long life! For who would ever have hoped, Strymodorus, to hear that women—whom we fed in our houses, an evident plague—now hold the holy image, and have seized my Acropolis, and bar the Propylaea with bolts and bars?

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Come, let's hurry to the citadel as fast as we can, Philurgus, so that, setting these logs in a ring around all those women who started and went through with this business, we may heap up a single pyre and burn them all with our own hands, on a single vote—and first of all Lycon's wife.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN For by Demeter they shan't crow over me while I live! For not even Cleomenes, who first seized it, got away unscathed; no, breathing his Laconian breath all the same, he went off after surrendering his arms to me, with a tiny little cloak, hungry, filthy, unkempt, six years unwashed.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN So fiercely did I besiege that man, sleeping before the gates in ranks seventeen deep. And shall I not, being here, put a stop to such daring as this in these women, hated by Euripides and all the gods? Then let my trophy at Marathon stand no longer in the Tetrapolis!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN But there's only this stretch of road left for me—the steep bit up to the citadel, where I'm eager to get. How on earth shall we drag this load up without a pack-ass? These two logs have crushed my shoulder. Still, on I must trudge, and blow up the fire, so it doesn't go out on me unnoticed at the journey's end. Phew, phew! Ow, ow, the smoke!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN How fiercely, lord Heracles, this smoke leaps at me from the pot and bites my two eyes like a mad dog! This fire is Lemnian in every way—or it would never have gnawed at the rheum in my eyes so sharply with its teeth. Hurry ahead to the citadel and help the goddess! When shall we aid her, if not now, Laches? Phew, phew! Ow, ow, the smoke!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN By the gods' grace this fire is awake and alive. Now then, suppose we first set down our two logs here, then dip a vine-branch torch into the pot and light it, and then fall upon the door battering-ram fashion? And if the women don't loose the bolts when we call, we must set fire to the doors and choke them with smoke. So let's set down our burden. Phew, what smoke! Bah! Which of the generals at Samos will lend a hand with the log? There—it's stopped crushing my back at last. Now it's your job, pot, to wake up the coal, so you may first bring me the lit torch. Lady Victory, be with us, so we may set up a trophy over the present insolence of the women in the city.

CHORUS OF WOMEN I think I see smoke and a haze, women, as of a fire burning. We must hurry faster.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Fly, fly, Nicodice, before Calyce and Critylla are burned up—blown about by cruel winds and by deadly old men. But I'm afraid of this: have I come too late to help? For just now I filled my pitcher at dawn, with difficulty, at the fountain, amid the crowd and the uproar and the clatter of pots, jostled by slave-girls and branded knaves—and snatching it up eagerly I bring water to help my fellow-townswomen who are being burned.

CHORUS OF WOMEN For I heard that some doddering old men were on the move, carrying logs to the citadel as if to heat a bath—a three-talent weight—uttering the most dreadful threats, that the loathsome women must be reduced to charcoal by fire. O goddess, may I never see them burning—but rather see them rescuing Greece and the citizens from war and madness! That is why, O gold-crested guardian of the city, they have taken their seats in your shrine. And I call you to my aid, Tritogeneia: if any man sets those women alight, help us carry water!

CHORUS OF WOMEN Stop—what was that? Men, vile in their toil! For good and pious men would never be doing such things.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN This is an unexpected thing for us to see: a whole swarm of women come to the rescue outside the gates!

CHORUS OF WOMEN Why do you cringe at us? Surely we don't seem so many? And yet you don't see even the ten-thousandth part of us.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Phaedrias, shall we let them chatter on like this? Shouldn't someone shatter his log over them by beating?

CHORUS OF WOMEN Let's set our pitchers down too, on the ground, so that if anyone lays a hand on us, this won't get in our way.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN By Zeus, if someone had already smashed their jaws twice or three times, like Bupalus, they'd have no voice left.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Come on then, let someone strike—here I stand and offer myself—and never shall another bitch lay hold of your balls!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN If you don't keep quiet, I'll knock the old age out of you with a blow.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Just come and touch Stratyllis with a finger.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN And if I pummel you with my knuckles? What dreadful thing will you do to me?

CHORUS OF WOMEN I'll bite into your lungs and tear out your guts.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN There's no poet wiser than Euripides: for there's no creature so shameless as women.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Let's pick up our water-pitchers, Rhodippe.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Why, you gods-detested creature, have you come here with water?

CHORUS OF WOMEN And why have you come with fire, you tomb? To cremate yourself?

CHORUS OF OLD MEN I, to heap up a pyre and set fire to your friends.

CHORUS OF WOMEN And I, to put out your pyre with this.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN You'll put out my fire?

CHORUS OF WOMEN The deed will show, soon enough.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN I don't know but I might roast you on the spot with this torch.

CHORUS OF WOMEN If you happen to have any soap, I'll give you a bath.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN A bath, for me, you rotten thing?

CHORUS OF WOMEN Yes, and a bridal one!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Did you hear her insolence?

CHORUS OF WOMEN I'm a free woman.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN I'll put a stop to this shouting of yours.

CHORUS OF WOMEN But you're no longer sitting in the jury-court.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Set fire to her hair!

CHORUS OF WOMEN Now's your work, Acheloos!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Oh, wretched me!

CHORUS OF WOMEN Was it too hot?

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Hot, indeed! Stop! What are you doing?

CHORUS OF WOMEN I'm watering you so you'll sprout.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN But I'm withered already, with trembling.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Well, since you've got fire, you can warm yourself.

MAGISTRATE So the women's wantonness has blazed out, has it—the drum-beating and the constant cries of "Sabazius," and this worship of Adonis up on the rooftops, which I once heard while I was in the Assembly? Ill-omened Demostratus was proposing that we sail to Sicily, while his wife, dancing, cried, "Woe for Adonis!"; and Demostratus was proposing to levy hoplites from Zacynthus, while his tipsy wife on the roof cried, "Beat your breast for Adonis!"; but he, the god-detested, foul Cholozyges, kept forcing it through. Such are the licentious songs we get from them.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN What would you say if you learned of these women's insolence too? They've outraged us in every way, and out of their pitchers they doused us, so that we can wring out our cloaks as if we'd wet ourselves.

MAGISTRATE By Poseidon of the salt sea, and rightly too! For when we ourselves play the rogue along with the women and teach them to be wanton, such schemes sprout from them. We're the ones who say things like this in the craftsmen's shops: "Goldsmith, the necklace you mended—my wife was dancing in the evening and the pin slipped out of its hole. Now I have to sail off to Salamis; so if you have time, do come round in the evening by all means and fit the pin in for her." Another says this to a shoemaker, a young fellow with no boy's member: "Shoemaker, the strap is pinching my wife's little toe, which is tender; so come round at noon and loosen it, so it has more room." Such things have ended in such results: here am I, a magistrate, who provided that there be oars and now need the money for them, and I'm locked out of the gates by the women! But it's no use just standing here. Bring the crowbars, so I may put a stop to their insolence. Why are you gaping, you wretch? Where are you looking now, doing nothing but eyeing the tavern? Won't you set the crowbars under the gates and pry from that side? And I'll help pry from here.

LYSISTRATA Don't pry at all. I'm coming out of my own accord. What need of crowbars? It's not crowbars you need, but sense and wits.

MAGISTRATE Is that so, you filthy creature? Where's the archer? Seize her and tie her hands behind her back.

LYSISTRATA By Artemis, if he so much as lays a fingertip on me, public servant though he is, he'll be sorry.

MAGISTRATE Are you afraid, you there? Won't you grab her round the middle—and you with him—and tie her up quickly between you?

FIRST WOMAN By Pandrosus, if you so much as lay a hand on her, you'll be trodden on and beshit yourself!

MAGISTRATE Beshit myself indeed! Where's the other archer? Bind this one first, since she babbles too.

SECOND WOMAN By the Light-Bringer, if you bring a fingertip near her, you'll soon be begging for a cupping-glass for your black eye!

MAGISTRATE What was that? Where's the archer? Lay hold of her. I'll put a stop to one or two of you slipping out like this.

THIRD WOMAN By Tauropolus, if you come near her, I'll tear out your hair till you wail!

MAGISTRATE Oh, wretched me! The archer's failed me. But we must never be beaten by women. Let's close ranks and charge them, Scythians.

LYSISTRATA By the two Goddesses, then you'll learn that we too have four companies of well-armed fighting women inside!

MAGISTRATE Twist their hands behind them, Scythians!

LYSISTRATA Allied women, rush out from inside! O you sellers of seeds and porridge and greens, you keepers of taverns who sell garlic and bread, won't you drag, won't you strike, won't you batter? Won't you abuse them, won't you be shameless? Stop—fall back—don't strip the corpses!

MAGISTRATE Oh, how badly my archer-force has fared!

LYSISTRATA But what did you expect? Did you think you'd come against a pack of slave-women, or do you suppose women have no gall in them?

MAGISTRATE By Apollo, plenty of it—provided there's a tavern-keeper nearby.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN O magistrate of this land, you've wasted many words. Why join in argument with these beasts? Don't you know the kind of bath they just gave us in our clothes—and that without soap?

CHORUS OF WOMEN But my good man, you mustn't lay your hand recklessly on those next to you. If you do, you'll necessarily get a black eye. For I'd rather sit modestly like a maiden, troubling no one here, stirring not a straw—unless someone provokes me and stirs up the hive like a wasps' nest.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN O Zeus, whatever shall we do with these monsters? This is no longer to be endured. We must examine, you and I, this strange business: with what intent they have seized the citadel of Cranaus, the great-rocked, untrodden Acropolis, the holy precinct.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Come, question her, and don't be persuaded, and bring all your proofs to bear; for it's shameful to let such a matter go unprobed and unchallenged.

MAGISTRATE And indeed, by Zeus, this is the first thing I want to learn from them: with what purpose did you bar our city's gates with your bolts?

LYSISTRATA So that we might keep the money safe, and you might not make war for its sake.

MAGISTRATE Is it for the money that we make war, then?

LYSISTRATA Yes, and all the rest was thrown into confusion for it. For so that Pisander could steal, and those clutching at office, they were always stirring up some commotion. So let them do whatever they like for that—but this money they'll never lay hold of again.

MAGISTRATE But what will you do?

LYSISTRATA You ask me that? We'll manage it ourselves.

MAGISTRATE You'll manage the money?

LYSISTRATA Why do you think that so dreadful? Don't we manage all the household funds for you anyway?

MAGISTRATE But it's not the same.

LYSISTRATA How is it not the same?

MAGISTRATE We must make war with this money.

LYSISTRATA But there's no need to make war in the first place.

MAGISTRATE How else shall we be saved?

LYSISTRATA We'll save you.

MAGISTRATE You?

LYSISTRATA Yes, we.

MAGISTRATE What an outrage!

LYSISTRATA You'll be saved, whether you like it or not.

MAGISTRATE A dreadful thing you say!

LYSISTRATA You're annoyed. But it must be done all the same.

MAGISTRATE By Demeter, it's unjust!

LYSISTRATA You must be saved, my good man.

MAGISTRATE Even if I don't want to be?

LYSISTRATA All the more for that.

MAGISTRATE And how did you women come to care about war and peace?

LYSISTRATA We'll tell you.

MAGISTRATE Speak quickly, then, or you'll be sorry.

LYSISTRATA Listen, then, and try to hold back your hands.

MAGISTRATE But I can't—it's hard to hold them back in my anger.

FIRST WOMAN Then you'll be the sorrier.

MAGISTRATE Croak that to yourself, old woman. You—speak to me.

LYSISTRATA I'll do so. In the former war and all that time, we put up, out of our restraint, with whatever you men did. You wouldn't let us mutter a word, and yet you didn't please us. But we understood you well, and often, while at home, we'd hear of some great matter you'd ill resolved; then, grieving inwardly, we'd ask you, with a smile: "What has been decided about the treaties, to be inscribed on the stone, in the Assembly today?" "What's that to you?" my husband would say. "Won't you be silent?" And I'd hold my tongue.

FIRST WOMAN But I'd never have held mine!

MAGISTRATE And you'd have wailed for it, if you hadn't.

LYSISTRATA And so, for my part, I held my tongue at home. And then we'd learn of some other, worse decision of yours; and we'd ask, "Husband, how is it you manage these things so senselessly?" And he'd look at me askance and say at once that if I didn't spin my thread, I'd wail loud and long for my head—"war is the men's concern."

MAGISTRATE And he was right, by Zeus, to say so.

LYSISTRATA How right, you wretch, when we weren't even allowed to advise you, even when you counselled badly? But when at last we heard you plainly in the streets, "Is there no man left in the land?" and another would answer, "No, by Zeus, not one"—after that we women resolved at once to band together and save Greece in common. For what was the use of waiting any longer? So, if you'll consent to listen in turn to us as we speak good sense, and be silent in your turn as we were, we could set you right.

MAGISTRATE You set us right? An outrageous thing to say, and not to be borne by me!

LYSISTRATA Be quiet.

MAGISTRATE Be quiet for you, you accursed thing—and you wearing a veil on your head? Then let me not live!

LYSISTRATA Well, if this veil is an obstacle to you, take it from me, put it on, wrap it round your head—and then be quiet. And take this little basket too. Now gird yourself up and card wool, munching beans; war shall be the women's concern.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Up off our pitchers, women, so that we in turn may lend our friends a hand in the matter!

CHORUS OF WOMEN For I would never grow weary of dancing, nor would weariness seize my knees with toil. I'm willing to go to any length on behalf of these women, for the sake of virtue—women in whom there is nature, there is grace, there is daring, there is wisdom, and a virtue both prudent and patriotic.

CHORUS OF WOMEN O most manly of grandmothers and nettle-mothers, advance in anger and don't be softened; for still you run before a fair wind.

LYSISTRATA But if only sweet-tempered Eros and Cyprian-born Aphrodite breathe desire down over our bosoms and thighs, and instill a delicious stiffness and rigidity in the men, I think we'll one day be called "Lysimaches"—dissolvers of battles—among the Greeks.

MAGISTRATE For having done what?

LYSISTRATA For having first of all stopped them from going shopping in the marketplace under arms, raving about.

FIRST WOMAN Yes, by Paphian Aphrodite!

LYSISTRATA For nowadays among the pots and the vegetables alike they go about the marketplace in armor like Corybants.

MAGISTRATE By Zeus, as brave men should!

LYSISTRATA And yet the thing's ridiculous—when a man carrying a shield with a Gorgon on it goes and buys little fish.

FIRST WOMAN By Zeus, I myself saw a long-haired cavalry-commander on horseback pouring porridge from an old woman's stall into his bronze helmet; and another, a Thracian, brandishing his light shield and javelin like Tereus, frightened the fig-seller and gulped down her ripe figs.

MAGISTRATE Then how will you women be able to put a stop to so many tangled affairs in the lands, and resolve them?

LYSISTRATA Quite easily.

MAGISTRATE How? Show me.

LYSISTRATA Just as, when our yarn is tangled, we take it like this and draw it out with our spindles, this way and that—so too we'll undo this war, if anyone lets us, drawing it out by embassies, this way and that.

MAGISTRATE You think you'll stop these dreadful matters with wool and yarn and spindles, you foolish women?

LYSISTRATA Indeed, if you had any sense, you'd manage all your affairs of state by our wool.

MAGISTRATE How so? Let me see.

LYSISTRATA First, just as one washes the grease out of raw wool in the bath, so you should beat the rogues out of the city on a couch, and pick out the burrs; and those who clump together and felt themselves tight for office, you should card them apart and pluck off their heads. Then card out into a basket the goodwill common to all, mixing in everyone—the resident aliens, and any foreigner who's a friend to you, and anyone who owes money to the treasury, mix these in too. And by Zeus, the cities, all those that are colonies of this land—recognize that for us these lie like scattered tufts, each apart; then take the tuft from all of them, gather it here, bring it together into one, and make a great ball, and from this weave a cloak for the people.

MAGISTRATE Isn't it monstrous for these women to talk of beating and balling, who had no part at all in the war?

LYSISTRATA And yet, you utterly accursed man, we bear more than double its burden—first of all, we bear children and send them off as hoplites.

MAGISTRATE Hush—don't recall old griefs.

LYSISTRATA Then, when we ought to be enjoying ourselves and reaping the pleasures of our youth, we sleep alone because of the campaigns. And leaving aside our own case, I grieve for the maidens growing old in their chambers.

MAGISTRATE Don't men grow old too?

LYSISTRATA By Zeus, that's not the same thing. For a man, when he comes home, even if he's grey, soon weds a young girl. But a woman's season is brief, and if she doesn't seize it, no one is willing to marry her, and she sits watching for omens.

MAGISTRATE But any man who's still able to get it up—

LYSISTRATA But you—why don't you up and die? There's a plot for you—buy a coffin. I'll knead you a honey-cake, here and now. Take these and crown yourself!

FIRST WOMAN And accept these from me.

SECOND WOMAN And take this wreath here.

LYSISTRATA What do you lack? What do you want? Go to the boat. Charon is calling you, and you're holding up the sailing.

MAGISTRATE Isn't it dreadful, the treatment I suffer? By Zeus, I'll go straight to the other magistrates and show myself, just as I am.

LYSISTRATA Are you complaining that we didn't lay you out properly? Well, on the third day, very early in the morning, the third-day offerings will come to you from us, all prepared.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN It's no longer the time for any free man to be sleeping. Let's strip for action, men, and tackle this business. For this begins to smell to me of more and greater matters, and most of all I scent the tyranny of Hippias. And I'm very much afraid that some of the Spartans, gathering here at the house of Cleisthenes, have stirred up by guile these gods-detested women to seize our funds and the pay on which I lived.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN For it's a dreadful thing for these women now to be lecturing the citizens, and to chatter—mere women—about a bronze shield, and to try to reconcile us with the Spartan men, whom there's no more trusting than a gaping wolf. But the men have woven this against us, aiming at tyranny. Well, they shan't tyrannize over me, for I'll be on my guard, and henceforth I'll carry my sword in a myrtle branch, and I'll go to market in arms beside Aristogeiton, and stand thus beside him; for it falls to me to smite that gods-detested old woman's jaw.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Then your own mother won't know you when you come home! But let's first set these things down on the ground, dear old women. For we, all you citizens, begin a speech useful to the city—and fittingly, since it raised me in splendid luxury. At seven years old I straightway served as an Arrhephoros; then at ten I was a grain-grinder for our Foundress; then, wearing the saffron robe, I was a Bear at the Brauronia; and once, as a fair maiden, I carried the basket, wearing a string of dried figs.

CHORUS OF WOMEN So do I not owe it to the city to give it some good advice? And if I'm a woman by birth, don't grudge me this, if I contribute something better than the present state of things. For I have a share in the city—for I contribute men. But you wretched old men have no share, since you've spent the ancestral fund won from the Persian wars, and you contribute nothing in return by way of taxes. Why, we're in danger of being ruined by you! Have you any grumble to make? If you trouble me at all, I'll smite your jaw with this unsoftened boot.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Aren't these doings great insolence? And the thing seems likely to grow worse. We must defend ourselves against this business, every man who has any balls. So let's strip off our tunics, for a man must smell of a man right off, and it isn't fitting to be wrapped up in leaves. Come, white-foot men—we who marched to Leipsydrion when we were still young—now we must grow young again and feather our whole bodies and shake off this old age.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN For if any of us gives these women even a small handhold, they'll leave off nothing of their relentless handiwork; no, they'll even build ships and try to fight us at sea and sail against us, like Artemisia. And if they turn to cavalry, I cross off our horsemen; for a woman is a most horsemanlike thing and rides firm in the seat, and wouldn't slip off at the gallop. Just look at the Amazons, whom Micon painted fighting men on horseback. We ought to take all these women and fit their necks into a pillory with holes bored in it.

CHORUS OF WOMEN By the two Goddesses, if you rouse me up, I'll loose my own sow upon you and have you bawling for the neighbors to help, as you get a combing! Come, women, let's strip off quickly too, so we may smell of women ready to bite in their rage. Now let someone come at me, if he ever wants to eat garlic or black beans again. For if you say even one harsh word—I'm furious—I'll play the midwife to you like the beetle to the eagle's eggs.

CHORUS OF WOMEN For I wouldn't worry about you, so long as Lampito lives, and my dear well-born Theban girl Ismenia. For you'll have no power, not even if you vote it seven times over, you wretch, who've made yourself hateful to everyone, even to your neighbors. Why, only yesterday, when I held a festival for Hecate, I invited a playmate for my children from the neighbors—a good and beloved child from Boeotia, an eel; but they said they couldn't send her, because of your decrees. And you'll never stop these decrees of yours until someone takes you by the leg and pitches you headlong over the edge!

CHORUS OF WOMEN Mistress of this enterprise and design, why have you come out of doors with such a gloomy face?

LYSISTRATA The deeds of base women and the female heart make me dispirited and pace up and down.

CHORUS OF WOMEN What do you say? What do you say?

LYSISTRATA The truth, the truth.

CHORUS OF WOMEN What is the dreadful thing? Tell your own friends.

LYSISTRATA It's shameful to say, and grievous to keep silent.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Don't hide from me what evil we've suffered.

LYSISTRATA We're dying for a screwing—that's the short of it.

CHORUS OF WOMEN O Zeus!

LYSISTRATA Why cry out to Zeus? That's how it stands. I'm no longer able to keep them off the men, for they're running away. The first one I caught widening the hole where the grotto of Pan is; another I caught slithering down by a pulley; another deserting; and another, mounted on a sparrow, already meaning to fly down to Orsilochus's place—I dragged her back by the hair yesterday. And they drag up all sorts of excuses to go home. Here comes one of them now. You there—where are you running?

FIRST WOMAN I want to go home. For I have Milesian wool at home being chewed up by the moths.

LYSISTRATA What moths? Won't you go back?

FIRST WOMAN But I'll come back quickly, by the two Goddesses—just time enough to spread it out on the bed.

LYSISTRATA Don't go spreading anything out, and don't go off anywhere.

FIRST WOMAN But shall I let my wool be ruined?

LYSISTRATA If need be, yes.

SECOND WOMAN Wretched me, wretched, for my Amorgos flax, which I've left at home unstripped!

LYSISTRATA Here's another going out for her unstripped flax. Come back here.

SECOND WOMAN But by the Light-Bringer, I'll be right back—I'll just give it a quick stripping.

LYSISTRATA Don't you do any stripping. For if you start this, another woman will want to do the same.

THIRD WOMAN O Lady Eileithyia, hold back the birth, until I can reach an unconsecrated spot!

LYSISTRATA What's this nonsense?

THIRD WOMAN I'm about to give birth this instant.

LYSISTRATA But you weren't even pregnant yesterday.

THIRD WOMAN But I am today. Send me home to the midwife, Lysistrata, as quick as you can.

LYSISTRATA What tale is this? What's this hard thing you've got?

THIRD WOMAN A baby boy.

LYSISTRATA By Aphrodite, no—you seem to have something hollow and bronze. I'll find out. You ridiculous creature, you've got the sacred helmet—and you claimed to be pregnant?

THIRD WOMAN And I am pregnant, by Zeus!

LYSISTRATA Then why were you carrying this?

THIRD WOMAN So that if my labor came on me while still in the citadel, I might give birth into this helmet, climbing into it, like the pigeons.

LYSISTRATA What are you saying? You're making excuses—the matter's plain. Won't you stay here for the name-day of this helmet?

THIRD WOMAN But I can't even sleep in the citadel, ever since I saw the temple-guardian snake.

FIRST WOMAN And I, wretched me, am dying for lack of sleep from the owls forever screeching "kakkabei."

LYSISTRATA You strange women, stop these wonder-tales. You long for your husbands, perhaps; but don't you think they long for us? Hard nights they pass, I'm sure of it. So hold out, good women, and persevere a little while longer; for an oracle tells us that we'll prevail, if only we don't fall to quarreling. Here's the oracle.

FIRST WOMAN Tell us what it says.

LYSISTRATA Be silent, then. "But whenever the swallows huddle together into one place, fleeing the hoopoes and keeping off from the phalluses, there shall be an end of troubles, and Zeus the high-thunderer shall set the upper below—"

FIRST WOMAN Shall we be lying on top, then?

LYSISTRATA "—but if the swallows fall to disputing and fly off on their wings from the holy temple, then it shall seem there's no bird more lecherous than they."

FIRST WOMAN The oracle's clear enough, by Zeus.

LYSISTRATA O all you gods, let's not give up under our hardships—let's go back in. For it would be shameful, dearest friends, if we betrayed the oracle.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN I want to tell you a tale, which I once heard myself when I was still a boy. There was a young man called Melanion, who, fleeing marriage, came to the wilderness and lived in the mountains. He hunted hares, weaving nets, and kept a dog—and he never came back home again, out of hatred. So loathing of women had he, that fellow; and we who are chaste are no less than Melanion.

OLD MAN I want to kiss you, old woman—

WOMAN Then you won't need an onion to weep over!

OLD MAN —and lift my leg and kick you.

WOMAN You've a thick bush there!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN And Myronides too was rough on that side, and black-bottomed to all his enemies—and so was Phormio.

CHORUS OF WOMEN And I want to tell you a tale in answer to your Melanion. There was a certain Timon, a roamer with no fixed home, his face fenced about with impassable thorns, an offshoot of the Furies. So this Timon went off out of hatred, hurling many curses at wicked men. So that man hated your wicked men forever, in return, but to the women he was dearest.

WOMAN Would you like me to smash your jaw?

OLD MAN No, no—I'm frightened!

WOMAN But shall I strike you with my leg?

OLD MAN You'll show your privates.

CHORUS OF WOMEN But all the same, you wouldn't see, old as I am, that it's overgrown—no, it's smoothed bare with the lamp.

CINESIAS Oh, what's to become of me? Whom shall I screw, robbed of the fairest of all women? How shall I rear this child of mine? Where's Cynalopex? Hire me a wet-nurse!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN In dreadful misery, poor wretch, your soul wears away, deceived. And I pity you—alas! For what kidney could hold out, what soul, what testicles, what loins, what backside, stretched taut and getting no screwing at dawn?

CINESIAS O Zeus, what dreadful spasms!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN This is what she's done to you, that utterly loathsome, utterly foul woman.

CINESIAS By Zeus, no—dear and ever so sweet!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Sweet, indeed? Foul, foul!

CINESIAS Foul indeed, O Zeus, O Zeus! Would that you might snatch her up like a heap of corn in a great whirlwind and tornado, twirl her and roll her round, and carry her off, and then let go, so that she falls again to earth—and then, all at once, lands astride my prick!

MYRRHINE (within) ...

CINESIAS O dearest little Myrrhine, why do you do this? Come down here.

MYRRHINE By Zeus, I won't go there.

CINESIAS Won't you come down, Myrrhine, when I call you?

MYRRHINE No—you call me, but you've no need of me.

CINESIAS I, no need of you? I'm utterly undone!

MYRRHINE I'm going.

CINESIAS No, don't—but at least listen to your little child. You there, won't you call your mother?

CHILD Mama, mama, mama!

CINESIAS You there, what's the matter with you? Have you no pity for the child, unwashed and unsuckled six days now?

MYRRHINE I pity it, surely; but its father is a careless wretch.

CINESIAS Come down, you blessed creature, for the child's sake.

MYRRHINE What a thing it is to be a mother! I must come down. What else can I do?

CINESIAS She seems to me much younger to look at, and gentler-eyed. And her crossness with me, and her disdain—these very things make me waste away with longing.

MYRRHINE O dearest little child of a wicked father, let me kiss you, mother's sweetest.

CINESIAS Why do you do this, you wretch, and follow the other women, and grieve me, and pain yourself too?

MYRRHINE Don't lay your hand on me!

CINESIAS But our household things, mine and yours, you're letting go to ruin.

MYRRHINE I care little for them.

CINESIAS You care little that your weaving is being pulled to pieces by the hens?

MYRRHINE By Zeus, I do.

CINESIAS And you haven't celebrated the rites of Aphrodite for such a long while now! Won't you come back?

MYRRHINE By Zeus, not I—not unless you make peace and stop the war.

CINESIAS Well, if that seems good, we'll even do that.

MYRRHINE Well, if that seems good, I'll even go back there—but for now I've sworn an oath against it.

CINESIAS Then at least lie down with me, after all this time.

MYRRHINE No—and yet I won't say I don't love you.

CINESIAS You love me? Then why not lie down, Myrrhine dear?

MYRRHINE You ridiculous man, in front of the child?

CINESIAS By Zeus, no. Manes, take it home. There—the child's out of the way. Won't you lie down now?

MYRRHINE But you wretch, where on earth could one even do this?

CINESIAS The grotto of Pan's a fine spot.

MYRRHINE And how could I return pure to the citadel?

CINESIAS Easily enough—you can wash in the Clepsydra.

MYRRHINE And then, after swearing an oath, am I to break it, you wretch?

CINESIAS On my own head be it—never mind the oath.

MYRRHINE Wait then, while I fetch a cot for us.

CINESIAS Not at all—the ground will do.

MYRRHINE By Apollo, no—I won't have you lie on the ground, base as you are.

CINESIAS Why, the woman loves me—that's plain to see.

MYRRHINE There—lie down quickly, and I'll take off my clothes. But—curse it—I must fetch a mattress.

CINESIAS What mattress? Not for me!

MYRRHINE By Artemis, it's shameful on the cords.

CINESIAS Then give me a kiss.

MYRRHINE There.

CINESIAS Oh dear! Come back quickly, then.

MYRRHINE Here's the mattress. Lie down, and I'm taking my clothes off now. But—curse it—you've no pillow.

CINESIAS But I don't want a pillow.

MYRRHINE By Zeus, but I do.

CINESIAS This member of mine is treated like Heracles cheated of his dinner!

MYRRHINE Get up, jump up. Now I have everything.

CINESIAS Everything indeed. Come here now, my treasure.

MYRRHINE I'm taking off my breast-band now. But remember—don't deceive me about the peace.

CINESIAS By Zeus, may I die first!

MYRRHINE You've got no blanket.

CINESIAS By Zeus, I don't want one—I want to screw!

MYRRHINE Don't worry, you shall—I'll be back quickly.

CINESIAS The woman will be the death of me with these bedclothes!

MYRRHINE Raise yourself up.

CINESIAS This one's raised up already.

MYRRHINE Do you want me to perfume you?

CINESIAS By Apollo, no, not me!

MYRRHINE By Aphrodite, yes—whether you want it or not.

CINESIAS Then may the perfume be spilt, Zeus most high!

MYRRHINE Hold out your hand, take some, and rub it on.

CINESIAS By Apollo, this perfume isn't sweet—it's slow, and doesn't smell of the wedding.

MYRRHINE Oh, wretched me—I've brought the Rhodian perfume!

CINESIAS It's fine—leave it, you strange creature.

MYRRHINE You're talking nonsense.

CINESIAS Curse the man who first boiled perfume!

MYRRHINE Take this little flask.

CINESIAS But I've got another one. Just lie down, you tiresome thing, and don't keep fetching me anything!

MYRRHINE I'll do that, by Artemis. At any rate I'm taking my shoes off. But, my dear, see that you vote for making peace.

CINESIAS I'll think it over. (Myrrhine runs off.) The woman's ruined me, destroyed me—and on top of everything, she's gone off and left me with my member up!

CINESIAS Oh, what shall I do? Whom shall I screw, cheated of the fairest of all women? How shall I rear this poor thing? Where's Cynalopex? Hire me a wet-nurse!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN In dreadful misery, poor wretch, your soul wears away, deceived. I pity you too, alas! For what kidney could hold out, what soul, what testicles, what loins, what backside, stretched taut and getting no screwing at dawn?

CINESIAS O Zeus, what dreadful throes!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN This is what she's done to you, that utterly loathsome, utterly foul woman.

CINESIAS By Zeus, no—dear and ever so sweet!

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Sweet, indeed? Foul, foul!

CINESIAS Foul indeed, O Zeus, O Zeus! Would that you might snatch her up like a heap of corn in a great whirlwind and tornado, twirl her and roll her round, and carry her off, and then let go, so that she falls again to earth—and then, all at once, lands astride my prick!

SPARTAN HERALD Where is the Council of Elders of Athens, or the prytaneis? I have some news to tell.

CINESIAS And what are you—a man, or a Priapus?

SPARTAN HERALD A herald, young man, by the two gods—I've come from Sparta about the reconciliation.

CINESIAS Then have you come carrying a spear under your arm?

SPARTAN HERALD By Zeus, not I.

CINESIAS Why do you turn aside? Why do you thrust your cloak forward? Are you swollen in the groin from the journey?

SPARTAN HERALD By Castor, the man's gone mad!

CINESIAS But you've got a stand, you scoundrel!

SPARTAN HERALD By Zeus, not I—don't talk nonsense.

CINESIAS Then what's this you've got?

SPARTAN HERALD A Spartan dispatch-staff.

CINESIAS A Spartan dispatch-staff indeed, if it's like this one! But come, speak the truth to me as to one who knows. How do things stand with you in Sparta?

SPARTAN HERALD All Sparta is up in arms, and all the allies have a stand; we're in need of Pellene.

CINESIAS And how did this affliction fall upon you? From Pan?

SPARTAN HERALD No—Lampito began it, I think, and then the other women throughout Sparta, all together, as if from a single starting-post, drove their men off from their members.

CINESIAS And how do you fare?

SPARTAN HERALD We're in distress. We go about the city bent double, as if carrying lamps. For the women won't let us so much as touch their myrtle-berries until we all, with one accord, make peace throughout Greece.

CINESIAS This business has been sworn together everywhere by the women—now I understand it. Quick, then—tell them to send plenipotentiary envoys here about the reconciliation. And I'll tell the Council to choose other envoys from this side, showing them this member of mine.

SPARTAN HERALD I'll fly—for you speak best in every way.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN There's no beast harder to fight than a woman, nor any fire, nor any panther so shameless.

CHORUS OF WOMEN And knowing this, you still make war on me, when you might, you wretch, have me as a steadfast friend?

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Why, I'll never stop hating women!

CHORUS OF WOMEN Well, whenever you like. But for now I won't leave you standing there so naked. I see how ridiculous you are. I'll come and put your tunic on you.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN By Zeus, that wasn't a wicked thing you did. It was out of wicked anger that I stripped before.

CHORUS OF WOMEN First, you look like a man now, and you're not ridiculous. And if you hadn't been vexing me, I'd have taken this little creature here that's in your eye and picked it out for you.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN So that's what's been galling me—this ring here! Dig it out, and then show me when you've taken it away. For by Zeus it's been biting my eye this long while.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Well, I'll do it—and yet you were born a peevish man. Heavens, what a great gnat is in you, O Zeus! Don't you see? Isn't this a Tricorythian gnat?

CHORUS OF OLD MEN By Zeus, you've helped me—for it's been digging a well in me this long while, so that now it's removed, my tears flow plentifully.

CHORUS OF WOMEN Well, I'll wipe them away for you, base though you are—and I'll give you a kiss.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Don't kiss me!

CHORUS OF WOMEN Whether you want it or not.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN Oh, confound you! How wheedling you are by nature. And that saying is rightly and not badly spoken: "Neither with the pestilent creatures, nor without the pestilent creatures." But now I make peace with you, and henceforth I'll neither do anything mean nor suffer it from you. Come, let's join together and strike up the song.

COMBINED CHORUS We're not getting ready, men, to speak ill of any of the citizens—not a single word. Quite the contrary—to say and do nothing but good; for the evils at hand are quite enough. So let every man and woman declare it, if anyone needs a little silver—two or three minas—for there's plenty inside, and we have purses. And if peace ever appears, whoever borrows from us now needn't pay back what he takes.

COMBINED CHORUS We mean to entertain some guests from Carystus, fine and good men. And there's still some pea-soup; and I had a little suckling-pig, and I've sacrificed it, so you'll eat tender, fine meat. So come to my house today; but you must do this early, after bathing yourselves and your children, and then walk straight in, asking no one, but go right ahead as if into your own homes, in fine style—for the door will be shut.

CHORUS And here come the envoys from Sparta, trailing their beards, with something like pig-pens about their thighs.

CHORUS Spartan men, first of all, greetings; then tell us how you've come, in what state.

SPARTAN Why need we tell you many words? You can see for yourselves how we've come.

CHORUS Whew! The trouble's grievously strained—it seems worse, more inflamed.

SPARTAN Unspeakable. What can one say? Let anyone, by whatever means he likes, come and make peace with us.

CHORUS And here too I see our own native men, drawing their cloaks away from their bellies like wrestlers; so the affliction seems an athletic sort of malady.

ATHENIAN Who can tell me where Lysistrata is? For here we men are in such a state.

CHORUS This affliction chimes in with the other. Do the cramps seize you toward dawn?

ATHENIAN By Zeus, yes—we're worn out doing this. So unless someone reconciles us quickly, there's no way we won't screw Cleisthenes.

CHORUS If you're wise, you'll take up your cloaks, so none of the herm-choppers may see you.

ATHENIAN By Zeus, you're right.

SPARTAN By the two gods, quite right. Come, let's throw our garments on.

ATHENIAN Greetings, Spartans! We've suffered shameful things.

SPARTAN O dear fellow, dreadful things we too would have suffered, if those men had seen us with our gear up.

ATHENIAN Come then, Spartans, we must speak of each point. On what business are you here?

SPARTAN We're envoys about the reconciliation.

ATHENIAN Well said—and so are we. Why don't we call Lysistrata, then, who alone could reconcile us?

SPARTAN By the two gods, yes—and call Lysistratus too, if you like.

ATHENIAN But it seems there's no need for us to call her: she's heard, and here she comes herself.

CHORUS Hail, most manly of all women! Now you must show yourself terrible and gentle, good and base, lofty and kind, much-experienced; for the leading men of the Greeks, caught by your charm, have yielded to you and entrusted all their grievances to you in common.

LYSISTRATA The task is not hard, if one catches them randy and not making trial of each other. But I'll soon find out. Where's Reconciliation? Take and bring up first the Spartans—not with a rough or arrogant hand, nor clumsily, as our men used to do, but as is fitting for women, with all familiarity. If one won't give his hand, lead him by the member. Now go and bring these Athenians too; and wherever they offer it, take hold and lead them up. Spartan men, stand close beside me here; and you Athenians, here on this side. And listen to my words. I'm a woman, yes, but I have sense; I'm not badly endowed with judgment of my own, and having heard many a discourse from my father and my elders, I'm not ill-schooled. Having got hold of you, I want to reproach you both together, as is just—you who, from a single basin, sprinkle the altars like kinsmen, at Olympia, at Thermopylae, at Delphi—how many more places could I name, were I to draw it out?—and yet, with enemy barbarians standing by with their army, you destroy Greek men and cities! That's the first part of my speech, drawn to a close.

ATHENIAN And I'm dying of unsheathed desire!

LYSISTRATA Now then, Spartans—for I'll turn to you—don't you know how Pericleidas the Spartan once came here and sat as a suppliant of the Athenians at the altars, pale in his scarlet cloak, begging for an army? For Messene was then pressing on you, and the god shaking the earth besides. And Cimon came with four thousand hoplites and saved all Sparta. After suffering such treatment at the hands of the Athenians, do you now ravage the land of those who did you good?

ATHENIAN They do wrong, by Zeus, Lysistrata!

SPARTAN We do wrong; but that backside is unspeakably lovely!

LYSISTRATA And do you think I'll let you Athenians off? Don't you know how the Spartans, in turn, when you were wearing slaves' rags, came with the spear and destroyed many men of the Thessalians, and many comrades and allies of Hippias, and on that day alone fought it out with you, and set you free, and clothed your people again in a fine cloak instead of the slave's rough garment?

SPARTAN I've never seen a finer woman.

ATHENIAN And I've never seen a lovelier... figure.

LYSISTRATA Then why, after so many good services on both sides, do you fight and not cease from your wickedness? Why aren't you reconciled? Come, what stands in the way?

SPARTAN We're willing, if someone's willing to give us back this round place here.

LYSISTRATA Which, my friend?

SPARTAN Pylos, which we've long wanted and been fumbling for.

ATHENIAN By Poseidon, you shan't have that!

LYSISTRATA Let them have it, my good man.

ATHENIAN And then what shall we have to stir up?

LYSISTRATA Demand another place in return for that.

ATHENIAN Well then—first hand over to us this thing here, Echinus, and the Maliac Gulf behind it, and the Megarian legs.

SPARTAN By the two gods, not all of those, dear sir!

LYSISTRATA Let it go—don't quarrel over a pair of legs.

ATHENIAN I want to strip and plow my field naked already.

SPARTAN And I to cart dung first, by the two gods.

LYSISTRATA You'll do these things when you've made peace. But if you decide to do so, take counsel and go and consult your allies.

ATHENIAN What allies, my friend? We have stands! Won't all our allies agree on the same thing—to screw?

SPARTAN Ours will, by the two gods.

ATHENIAN And the Carystians too, by Zeus.

LYSISTRATA Well said. Now then, see that you purify yourselves, so that we women may entertain you in the citadel out of what we had in our hampers. And there give your oaths and pledges to one another. And then each of you may take his own wife and go off.

ATHENIAN Let's go, then, as quickly as we can.

SPARTAN Lead on wherever you like.

ATHENIAN By Zeus, lead on as quick as can be.

COMBINED CHORUS Of embroidered coverlets and fine mantles and robes and golden ornaments, all that I have, I grudge not to hand them over to all, to carry off for their children, or whenever a man's daughter carries the basket. I tell all of you to take of my goods now from within; and let nothing be so well sealed that you can't break the seals and carry off whatever may be inside. But you'll see nothing, for all your looking—unless one of you sees sharper than I do.

COMBINED CHORUS And if any of you has no food, but feeds servants and many little children, you may get from me fine wheat-flour, while a loaf from a quart of grain looks a fine plump thing. So let any of the poor who wishes come to my house with sacks and bags, and he'll get wheat; and my Manes will fill them up for them. But I warn you not to come to my door—beware the dog!

CHORUS OF SPARTANS Stir up the youths, Mnemosyne, and my Muse, who knows us and the Athenians, when at Artemisium they charged like gods against the ships and conquered the Medes, while Leonidas led us like boars whetting their tusks, I think; and much foam blossomed about our jaws, and much foam streamed down our legs as well. For the Persian men were no fewer than the sands. O Huntress, slayer of beasts, come hither, maiden goddess, to our treaties, that you may keep us together a long while. And now again may friendship ever be abundant by these compacts, and may we cease from the cunning foxes. O come here, come, huntress maiden!

ATHENIAN Come now, since the rest has been done well, take these women away, Spartans, and you these. And let man stand by woman and woman by man, and then, dancing in honor of our good fortune, let us be careful henceforth never again to err.

CHORUS OF ATHENIANS Bring on the dance, summon the Graces, call upon Artemis, and her twin, the chorus-leading Healer, gracious, and the Nysian one, who flashes Bacchic fire among his maenads, and Zeus blazing with fire, and the blessed queen his consort; and then the divinities whom we'll call as witnesses, not forgetful, of gentle-minded Peace, which the goddess Cypris made. Alalai! Hurrah for the Healer! Leap up high—hurrah!—as for victory—hurrah! Euoi, euoi, euai, euai!

ATHENIAN Now you, strike up a new Muse to follow the new.

CHORUS OF SPARTANS Leaving lovely Taygetus once more, Laconian Muse, come, and fittingly hymn for us the god of Amyclae, and Athena of the Brazen House, and the noble sons of Tyndareus, who sport beside the Eurotas. Come, step lively! O step, lightly leaping, that we may hymn Sparta, which delights in choruses of the gods and the beat of feet, where the maidens like fillies beside the Eurotas leap, kicking up dust thick with their feet, and their locks toss like Bacchants brandishing the thyrsus and sporting. And the daughter of Leda leads them, the holy, comely chorus-leader. Come, bind up your hair with your hand, and leap with your feet like a deer; and make a clapping at once to aid the dance. And hymn again the goddess most mighty, of the Brazen House, the all-conquering one.