H^ilWHUSIlStKliilStUJI^Hli*] Jjif* Jf ji 1"^ •" ^* ; ^ My ?< : i f :J. " r i -: ♦ -■ i^liffli 1 SlNKf* P A 3877 A6 1882 MAIN ACHARNIANS gf Aristophanes 7. lU L L S O N B. A pb&VM Z#&3K^V?&Wl : Z-&) *2 LIBRARY TY OF CALIFORNIA. Accessions Xo. ^O^A^^ Shelf \n. fCL J s THE ACHARNIANS OF ARISTOPHANES >* OP THE xf J1TI7ERSIT Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from Microsoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/acharniansofarisOOarisrich THE ACHARNIANS OF ARISTOPHANES TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE BY CHARLES JAMES BILLSON, B.A. CORPUS CHRISTI COLLEGE, OXFORD [TJtt $■ ^,-B.^.^ OF THE LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., i, PATERNOSTER SQUARE 1882 IS s3 c *jl 2_ OK THE UNIVEESIT7' Scene — The Pnyx at Athll$.£* Dicteopolis, alone. Die. There really is no end to my vexations ! My pleasures are too scanty for my patience ! I've only had some four that I could swear to, While plagued with all the ills that flesh is heir to. When had I, now, a pure poetic pleasure ? Ah, yes, I know what charmed me beyond measure ; — To see base Cleon, by that lawsuit shaken, Disgorging the five talents he had taken. That made me radiant ! The Knights be blest ! They fined the sinner, and the land had rest* But then I've had a tragical disaster ! When I sat yawning, waiting for the Master, f And the man bellowed out, " Lead on the chorus, * This is a parody on a verse of Euripides — 11 So may he perish, and the land have rest." t Dicseopolis was sitting in the theatre, expecting to hear a drama of ^Eschylus, when a play of Theognis was announced instead. The chilling effect of this poet's productions was so intense, that Aristophanes attributes B The Acharnians of Aristophanes. Theognis ! " Fancy what a shock passed o'er us ! Yet how Dexitheiis pleased me, who just now Sang the Boeotian, and bore off the cow ! * But I'd this year a paralytic seizure — When slouching Chaeris played the stately measure ! Then never since my mother washed me first, Was the dust, smarting in my eyes, so curst As now, when the Assembly's due this minute, And there's the Pnyx without a creature in it ! They're chattering in the Market-Place, and flying In all directions from the scarlet dyeing, f The very Prytanies aren't here ; — they'll rush in At the eleventh hour. Pushing and crushing To get at the best seats, like streams they roll on ! For peace they never care. O town of Solon ! I'm always very first on these occasions, And take my seat alone, and try my patience ; And groan and gape, and don't know what to do, Pluck out stray hairs, and do a sum or two. Then, gazing on the fields, for peace I yearn ; Hating the town, and longing to return to them the unusual severity of the winter in Thrace (p. 8), and he was nicknamed " Snow." Those who have braved the discomfort of an English concert to hear some famous singer, and have been informed by the polite conductor that the great man is suffering from a cold and therefore unable to sing that evening, will doubtless sympathize with the disappointment of the honest Athenian. * As a bull was the prize in dithyrambic contests, so a heifer may have been originally the prize for musical competition. But it is probably a mere jest that awards the ' ' harmless necessary cow " for a dull and prosaic Boeotian melody. t If the people were remiss in coming to the assemblies, two archers, or constables, were appointed, who took a rope dyed with vermilion and marked therewith the backs of all whom they found loitering ; and those who were found with their backs so marked had to pay a certain fine. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. To my own deme,* which never thought of crying, " Buy coals !" " Buy vinegar ! " nor dreamt of buying — That's ^-play to your independent peasant. And so, to tell the truth, I'm here at present To shout and jeer and interrupt the speaking, Unless it's peace and nothing else they're seeking, Enter Prytanies, Herald, Amphitheus, and Citizens. Here come the Prytanies, at midday too, Scrambling for places as I said they'd do ! Herald. Come forth ! Come forth within the ground that's consecrate ! Amph. Has any speech been made ? Herald. Who wants to orate ? Amph. I do. Herald. Who're you ? Amph. Amphitheus. Herald. Not a human ? Amph. No, an Immortal, though my ma's a woman. Thus : (pompously, burlesquing the genealogical prologues of Euripides) " I whom mortals call Amphitheus Sprang from Demeter and Triptolemus. For they had issue Celeiis, and he Espoused my grandmother Phaenarete ; Her son, Lycinus, was my honoured father," — Whence my immortal lineage you'll gather. The gods have given me a special charter To go alone and make a peace with Sparta ; But, though my godlike nature no pretence is, * Attica was divided into more than a hundred " demes " or parishes. Dicseopolis belonged to the deme of Achsenae, eight miles from Athens, t The name implies "god on both sides j " hence the herald's question. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. I cannot pay my travelling expenses : The Prytanies don't give Herald. What ho ! the bowmen ! [The Bowmen, or constables, enter and remove the "ob- structionist" Amph. {as he is being dragged out). Triptolemus ! Defend me from my foemen ! Die. O Prytanies, you do abuse the Ecclesia, Ousting the man who wants to make us easier, To get us peace, and hang up every buckler ! Herald. Be silent there ! Die. I'll not be such a truckler, Not till I hear a motion about peace ! Herald. The Persian Embassy returned to Greece ! Die. Persian indeed ! Ambassadors are odious ! I hate the peacocks and the way they toady us ! Enter the Ambassadors from Persia, fantastically arrayed in Oriental costume. Herald. Silence there ! Die. Whew ! Ecbatana ! What guys ! Chief Amb. You sent us, you'll remember, to advise With the Great King upon affairs of weight. — Euthymenes then filled our chair of state. — * Two drachmas each per diem were our wages. Die. Oh, those poor drachmas ! Amb. Well, we toiled for ages O'er the Cayster's plain, camping or creeping In chairs, with nothing to be done but sleeping ! * As Euthymenes had been Archon a dozen years before the representa- tion of this play, the wages here mentioned (about is. ^d. each per diem) would amount to no inconsiderable sum (nearly ^300 each) . The Acharnians of Aristophanes. 5 'Twas pitiful ! Die. And I deserved no pity When I lay out on straw to guard the city ! Amb. And then they feasted us, and would insist all That we should drink from cups of gold and crystal Their strong sweet wine. Die. Men of the city rocky ! Don't you perceive how all these envoys mock ye ? * Amb. For men are not men, to barbarian thinking, Unless they're great at eating and at drinking. Die. No, nor to ours, unless they've 'scaped the gallows ! Amb. In the fourth year we came to the King's palace ; But he was absent on an expedition, With all his army and his court physician. Eight months upon the Golden Mountains seated, He kept an easement. Die. When had he completed His labours ? Amb. He arose, and marching down, At full of moon returned into the town, And feasted us, and set before us oxen All roasted whole in ovens. Die. Now, a pox on The braggart ! Fancy cooking such a — fable ! Amb. Ay, and, by Jove, a bird came on the table Three times as big as — as Cleonymus yonder — [Points to a very stout gentleman among the audience. * The complaints of the Ambassador resemble those of Scapin : "II nous a fait mille civilites, nous a donne la collation, oil nous avons mange des fruits les plus excellents qui se puissent voir, et bu du vin que nous avons trouve le meilleur du monde." " Qu'y a-t-il de si affligeant a tout cela?" we ask with Geronte of both grumblers.— Moliere, "Les Fourberies de Scapin," Acte ii. Scene 11. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. A kind of gull it was. Die. Ah ! then no wonder You gulled us drawing that high salary ! Amb. And now we've brought with us the Great King's Eye,* Pseudartabas. Die. I wish a crow'd fly down, My fine ambassador, and peck your own ! Herald. The Great King's Eye ! Enter Pseudartabas, a mask representing one prodigious eye, attended by Eunuchs. Die. Great Heracles ! Astounding ! You're looking broadsides, man ! Pray, are you rounding A headland into dock till calmer weather ? Why, round your eye you've got a rowlock-leather ! Amb. Come now, Pseudartabas, to all discover Why the great King of Persia sent you over. Pseud. Beginney shippi-bungo pitchin' hollow ! Amb. D'ye understand him ? Die. No ; I don't quite follow. Amb. He says the King will send us gold at once. (To Pseud.) Come now, say "gold" again more plain, you dunce ! Pseud. No gettey gole, you blackleggy Ionies ! Die. Oh dear ! oh dear ! how very plain his tone is ! Amb. He says * This was the name of the King of Persia's most confidential officers. So the British superintendent in China is called the "barbarian eye." t This great pantomimic eye resembled the oar-hole of an Athenian man-of-war ; hence these allusions. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. Die. We're open to his coarse assertions, If we expect to get gold from the Persians. Amb. No, we'll get gold in nuggets ; that's the sense. Die. Pshaw ! nuggets ! You've a pretty impudence ! Stand off, and I will test him if I can. {To Pseud.) You, sir, please tell me, — tell this gentleman, — \He holds out his fist. Briefly and clearly what I wish you to ; And if you don't I'll dye you black and blue. Now : will the Great King send us any gold ? v [Pseudartabas and the Eunuchs make the Greek sign of negation. The envoys then have cozened us ? We're sold ? [Pseudartabas and the Eunuchs make the Greek sign of assent. They nodded Greek ! 'Tis plain they come from Hellas ! Ah ! but I know now one of those two fellows : — It's Cleisthines, Sibyrtius's baby ! * Why do you come to us like this, you gaby ? Why don't you shave your beard, you grinning monkey, Before you personate a Persian flunkey ? Herald. Silence ! Be seated ! The senators invite the Eye to dinner In the Town Hall ! Die. As I'm a living sinner, This is the very gallows ! Here I'm puzzling ! While the door's never shut against their guzzling ! But I will do a deed of might and glory ! Where's my Amphitheiis ? * Cleisthines was a feeble and effeminate creature, who is here called the son of Sibyrtius, a wrestling-master, on the lucus a non lucendo principle. 8 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. Amph. {entering on the instant). He stands before ye ! Die. Here, take me these eight drachmas * then, and sign A truce with Sparta for myself and mine, For my good woman and the little bodies. [Exit Amphitheus. (To the Prytanies) Keep up your embassies, you gaping noddies ! Herald. Enter Theorus from Sitalces. Enter Theorus. Theor. Hollo ! Die. Another traveller's tale for us to swallow ! Theor. We should not have remained in Thrace such ages — Die. Not if you hadn't had such handsome wages ! Theor. But the streams froze, and all the land lay under A canopy of snow. Die. Why, yes, no wonder ; Theognis' play was freezing hard just then ! Theor. Well, all this time I stayed there, gentlemen, Drinking with Prince Sitalces. There's a frantic Atheno-maniac for you ! So romantic In his devotion to you, that he'd cover The walls with scribbling like a crazy lover. — " From the east to western sea Athens is the fairest She " — And then his son, whom we had dubbed Athenian, Desired to taste, being very weak and leany, an Ionian sausage from the Revels, \ sueing * About five shillings. f The great festival of the Apaturia, peculiar to the Ionic race. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. His father to assist the land they grew in. His father swore, with many a libation, He'd send the biggest army in the nation, And make Athenians cry, with hands uplifted, " Why, what a lot of locusts hither drifted ! " Die. May I be hanged, if we're not hoj^us-pocused By all you say — except that one word "locust." * Theor. And now he sends you — which I'm sure must charm ye— The fierce and valiant Odomantian army ! Die. Oh yes ! They're come to eat our victuals for us ! Herald. Enter the Thracians brought us by Theorus ! Enter the Thracians, a troop of wretched tatterdemalions. Die. Pray, what atrocities are these ? Theor. The host Of Odomantians. At a trifling cost — Two drachmas each — they'll desolate with ravages Boeotia. Die. What ! Two drachmas for those savages ! You'd have some grumbling from our gallant seamen, f The city's bulwark ! J O my evil demon ! It's me they're ravaging ! My garlic's gone ! (To the Thracians) Put down my garlic ! Theor. Stop, you simpleton ! They're garlic-valiant now — don't go too near ! § * Dicseopolis means that he has no doubt they will be as ravenous and destructive, if not as numerous, as locusts. f The pay of the common sailor was only four obols a day; the Odoman- tians want two drachmae, or twelve obols. % Athens, like England, owed not only her safety, but also her great empire, mainly to the excellence of her navy. § The Greeks used to train their fighting-cocks on garlic. io The Acharnians of Aristophanes. Die. You, Prytanies ! D'ye see me pillaged here, In my own country and by foreign losels ? But I forbid a meeting for proposals About the Thracians' pay : 'tis most profane The gods declare. I felt a drop of rain ! Herald. Thracians, depart, and two days hence return ! Now, citizens, the meeting will adjourn ! [Exeunt Prytanies, Thracians, Theorus, Herald, and Citizens. Die. Oh, what a salad's wasted on that Tartar ! — But here's Amphitheus come back from Sparta. Welcome, Amphitheus ! Enter Amphitheus, running. A?nph. Not till I stop running ! For I must baffle these Acharnians' cunning. Die. Why, what's the matter ? Amph. I was hurrying here With truces, when some old Acharnians near Got scent of them, tough hearts of oak and maple — Old heroes of the Marathonian staple — And they all bawled and bellowed, " Stop, you lown ! Do you bring truces with our vines cut down ? " Then, while they filled with stones the cloaks they wore, I ran away, and they pursued and swore. Die. Well, let them swear ! But you have brought the truces ? Amph. Ay, that I have — three different sample-juices ! * [Produces three wine-jars from under his cloak. * A truce was concluded among the Greeks by pouring out libations of wine, and the same word was applied to the libation and to the peace which The A charnians of A ristophanes. 1 1 Here's one for five years ; come, take that and try it. Die. Bah ! [After putting the jar to his lips makes a wry face. Amph. Well ? Die. What nasty stuff ! I'll never buy it ! It smells of pitch and rigging out new galleys ! Amph. Then try this ten-year peace. Die. {tasting it). It smells of malice And shilly-shallying among the allies, And has a powerful stink of embassies ! Amph. But here's a truce for you by sea and land For thirty years ! Die. {taking a long pull). By Jupiter ! that's grand ! The genuine smack of nectar and ambrosia ! Most excellent good ! It couldn't make things cosier ! It isn't to get ready three days' rations, But cries out loud, " Pursue your inclinations ! " I'll pour libations out, and drain it dry, And wish these old Acharnians good-bye. I go to keep the country feast of Bacchus * Freed from the wars and miseries that wrack us ! {Exit Dicteopolis. Amph. And I'll go too, lest these Acharnians track us ! [Exit Amphitheus. Enter the Chorus of old Acharnians, running. Chorus. Follow this way all together ! Ask of every one you meet If he's seen the rascal running with his truces down the street ! it symbolized. Consequently Amphitheus is enabled to bring the truces with him bodily, in the form of wine-jars, three samples of which he offers for Dicaeopolis to taste. * The feast of the vintage, celebrated in December, a month before the production of this play. 12 The Achamians of Aristophanes. For our city's name and honour we must hunt the fellow down. Tell me, where's the scoundrel hiding who brings truces to the town ? He's escaped 1 He's escaped ! He has bolted and fled ! Oh, my feeble old joints, for the years that are sped, When I ran with a coal-scuttle tied on my back, And was pressing Phayllus himself all the track ! * Ah ! had I but hunted this peace-bearer then, He'd never have fled with such ease to his den. Now my limbs are growing weaker j old Lacratides is sore With a stiffness in the haunches that he never felt of yore, So he's gone : but we must chase him ! Never let him laugh and jeer At escaping from Acharnians, though their limbs are old and queer ! Father Zeus ! Gods above ! He has treated with those Whom I hate and detest as my bitterest foes ! Growing fiercer and fiercer, our war never drops Until I'm revenged for the loss of my crops j Till painful and sharp to the heart of their lines Like a bulrush I pierce in defence of my vines ! But we must pursue and chase him ; seek him all the wide world o'er! Looking to the plain of Peltce, tracking him from shore to shore ! Till at length we find the rascal ; for I shall not rest content, Till at once my pelting gives him death and grave and monu- ment ! * Phayllus was a mighty runner, who was reported to have jumped fifty-five feet, and to have thrown the discus ninety-five. If so, he must first have thrown the quoit over a cliff, and then have jumped after it. UNI VE ^ISIT 7^£ Acharnians of Aristophanes.^ 13 2?;z&r Dic^eopolis, o///£ his Wife, Daughter, aw^ Maid-servant. Die. Speak no word of evil omen ! Chorus. Hush ! You hear his prayer for silence ! He's the very man, I say. Come to sacrifice, I take it. Let us keep out of the way ! [The Chorus retire. Die. Speak no word of evil omen ! Now, basket-girl,* step forward once or twice ! Wife. Put down the basket, child ; let's sacrifice. Daughter. Please, mother, may I have the spoon, to take The porridge out and pour it on this cake ? Die. Now all is well. O Bacchanalian king ! Accept with joy the offerings I bring ! Accept my little family procession, And keep me free from service and oppression, That I may keep thy feast and live in clover Until my thirty years of peace are over ! Wife. Come, bear the basket prettily, my pretty ! With a proper Sunday face ! Don't let 'em loot ye Of all your gold and jewels in the scrimmage ! Die. Now, Xanthias, lift up the Phallic image ; I'll follow with the hymn. You, wife, must now stop, To make an audience for us, on the housetop. [Exit Wife. D ichorous, his Daughter, and Maid- servant march in solemn procession round the stage, while DiCiEOPOLis sings the Phallic hymn. * Young girls used to walk in the festal processions at Athens, bearing baskets of fruit and sacrificial cakes upon their heads. 14 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. The Hymn. Hail, Phales ! frolic mate of Bacchus ! Whose wandering crews so oft attack us With many a drunken midnight fracas And theft clandestine ! Thou half undo'st the ills that wrack us With mirth and jesting ! For five long years I've had hard measure,* And now come home with heartfelt pleasure To taste this truce — the dearest treasure To us poor haymakers. No general war shall mar my leisure ; — Nor General Lamachus ! \ 'Tis sweeter far than warlike glory To find your lassie dear before ye, Roaming 'mid Phelleus' olives hoary, In still recesses, And tell her all your tender story, With sweet caresses. O Phales, drunken, rattling fellow ! When evening cups have made you mellow, Rose-drops of peace shall chase the yellow From morning peepers ! Your shield we'll hang where sparkles tell o' Home-fireside keepers ! [The Chorus rush forward upon Dioeopolis. * This was the sixth year of the Peloponnesian war. t This gallant soldier, whose loss was severely felt in the Sicilian expedition, comes in for a great deal of ridicule subsequently, as representa- tive of the war party. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. 15 Chor. That's the fellow ! That's the man ! Pelt him ! Pelt him ! Pelt him there ! Beat the blackguard now you can ! Would you spare ? Would you spare ? Die. (who, leaving his head unguarded, devotes all his care to the preservation of his sacrificial jar). Heracles ! What is the matter ? Oh! You'll break my little jar ! Chor. Oh, we'll break your headpiece for you, dirty scoun- drel that you are ! Die. Nay, but tell me what my crime is, reverend Acharnian band. Chor. You ask that, you wretch, you villain ! traitor to your fatherland ! You who made a private truce and now can look us in the face ! Die. But you don't know why I made it. Listen, and I'll state my case. Chor. Listen to your lies and quibbles? Wretch ! We'll bury you with stones ! Die. Nay, but not until you've heard me. Wait till then to break my bones ! Chor. I'll not wait : don't you prate Any longer ; for I hate you ! Greater scamp than Cleon rate you, — Whom to shoe-soles I shall pare, For the gallant Knights to wear ! * I won't hear you ! I won't listen while you make a long oration ; You have made a peace with Sparta, and must give us compen- sation ! Die. Now, my masters, put the question of the Spartans out of sight ; * This threat was amply fulfilled next year in the author's "Knights," in which play Cleon, the tanner and demagogue, is most severely satirized. 1 6 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. And just listen to my treaties : judge if I was wrong or right. Chor. How can you persist in saying you were right, when you allege You made peace with men who honour neither altar, oath, nor pledge ? Die. Well, I'm sure those Spartans even we so furiously hate Aren't to blame for all the evils that have fallen on the State. Chor. Not for all, you wretch ! you rascal ! Do you dare to tell us so Freely, flatly to our faces, and then think we'll let you go ? Die. Not to blame for all our troubles ; nay, I'd show you, if I might, They have been in many cases actually in the right ! Chor. You provoke my soul to frenzy ! You're a traitor to the State, If you dare to plead before us for the enemies we hate ! Die. But if I should plead unfairly ; — if the people scout my plea ;— While I speak I'll lay my head down on a chopping-block, d'ye see? Chor. Oh, why spare your stones, my demesmen ? Why not pound the loathsome pest? Why not card and comb the fellow to a right rich purple vest ? Die. How the black coal in your spirit leapt to fiery life again ! But, my dear Acharnians, won't you, won't you really hear me then? Chor. No, we won't — we'll never hear you ! Die. Awful, then, will be my lot ! Chor. I'll be hanged if I will hear you ! Die. Dear Acharnians, I hope not ! Chor. You shall die upon the spot ! The Acharnians of Aristophanes. iy Die. Then, by Jove, I'll make you smart ! I'll revenge myself by slaying what is dearest to your heart ; For I have a hostage from you, who shall live or die with me. Chor. Tell me, tell me, fellow demesmen, what this threat of his can be ! Can he have a young Acharnian baby held in durance vile ? Or does his presumption spring from any other act of guile ? Die. Stone me, if you like, but I will kill this darling of your soul; Quickly learning who amongst you feels the native love for — coal ! * [As he pronounces the last wordy Dicteopolis produces a coal-scuttle dressed in long clothes to represent a baby, and prepares to pierce it with his sword. Chor. (in great agitation). We are done for! Do not kill him! Our own demesman ! Oh, forbear ! Oh, that scuttle ! Do not harm him ! Spare him, we beseech thee, spare ! Die. Bawl away, for I shall slay him. I'll not hear you, on my soul. Chor. Oh, mine own familiar comrade ! Oh, my noble heart of coal ! Die. But just now you would not hear me speak a word about the peace. Chor. Speak it now, and praise the Spartans to the top of your caprice ! For I never will prove traitor to my little scuttle here ! * The Acharnians, who lived hard by the wooded slopes of Mount Pames, were famous charcoal-burners, and this threat of Dicseopolis appealed to all their most sacred professional instincts. The whole scene is a burlesque upon the "Telephus," a lost play of Euripides, in which one of the characters produced a royal infant, whom he threatened to pierce with his sword unless he was granted a hearing. C 1 8 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. Die. First of all, then, throw your stones down, and I'll spare the little dear. Chor. See ! we've thrown them all away ! Now put up your sword, I pray. Die. But take care you try no hoax ! Hide no pebbles in your cloaks ! Chor. See, they're shaken on the ground, Shaken by our dancing round ! Now, don't prate another word, But make haste and sheathe the sword ! [The Chorus dance round and shake out the stones from their cloaks, while Dicteopolis puts away the sword and the coal-scuttle. Die. So then, you could at last shake out your — breath ! Parnesian charcoal nearly died the death Through its own deme's unnatural misdoing ! It was so frightened that it fell to spewing A lot of coal-dust, like a cuttle-fish ! 'Tis monstrous sad men bear such acidish And sour-grape natures, that they pelt and laugh To utter scorn your decent half-and-half ! And even when I'm offering to lay My head upon a block and say my say ! And yet I love my life as well as they ! i st Semi- Chorus. Why, then, don't you bring the block out from within, And begin ? I am mightily desirous to know what you have to say ! Speak away ! 2nd Semi- Chor. Yes, since the penalty's of your own seeking, Bring here the chopping-block, and try your speaking. [Dic^eopolis fetches a chopping-block. The Achamians of Aristophanes. 19 Die. See ! Here's the block, and here's the little, weak, Unhappy mortal who is going to speak ! Jove ! I shan't take a buckler, never fear it ! But say just what I think of Spartan merit ! And yet — I'm very much afraid ! I'm versed in The humours of these rustics, always thirsting To hear some quack with fulsome adulation Bespattering themselves and all the nation. What matter whether lies or truth be told — They never know how they are being sold ! And then I know your old man — how he gloats O'er nothing like condemnatory votes ! And I remembered how / fared one day At Cleon's hands, for last year's comic play.* How to the Senate House he pulled and dragged me, And battered me with calumnies, and nagged me, And spattered me with muddy jokes and sallies, While on my head he rinsed his dirty malice, And swore such water-spouts, I nearly died Draggled and drowned in that polluting tide ! So now, before I speak, let me assume Some tragical and beggarly costume. Chor. Why these twists and shifts, I pray ? Why this craving for delay ? Get Hieronymus to lend you one of Hades' casques to wear, With its " murkily-shaggily-clustering hair," f * Dicseopolis is, of course, speaking in the person of Aristophanes, who had been prosecuted by Cleon for some strong expressions of feeling con- tained in his comedy of " The Babylonians." Cleon also called in question the poet's right of citizenship ; but Aristophanes escaped by a witticism, quoting the Homeric line, " It's a wise child that knows its own father." t The helmet of Hades was supposed to confer invisibility upon the wearer, and it is thus appropriately attributed to Hieronymus, a tragic poet 20 The Achamians of Aristophanes. I don't care : Or Sisyphus' tricks you may try if you choose ; * — But this trial will not admit any excuse. Die. 'Tis time for me to take good heart of grace ! For I must look Euripides i' the face ! f \He knocks at the door of a house at the back of the stage. Porter ! Porter (opening the door). Who's there ? Die. Euripides indoors ? Porter {after a moment's reflection). Indoors, and out of doors, if sense is yours ! Die. Why, how can he be in yet out, you dunce ? % who concealed himself in a cloud of words, a specimen of which is here given. * The most celebrated feat of Sisyphus is thus mentioned by Theognis : " No ; not if than Sisyphus' self you were wiser Who even from Tartarus drear Found a means of escaping, the crafty deviser, By tickling Persephone's ear ! " t Throughout the following scene there are many allusions which can only be explained by a reference to the dramas of Euripides. All the " beggars and cripples " mentioned, with their various accoutrements, may be found therein ; and Aristophanes was too strong a conservative and too incorrigible a satirist not to regard such " touches of things common" from the comic point of view. All the quotations are samples of the Euripidean "word-craft," that new-fangled subtlety of expression which marked the analytic and casuistical spirit of the times. % " Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself : You are deceived, my substance is not here; For what you see is but the smallest part And least proportion of humanity : I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here, It is of such a spacious lofty pitch, Your roof were not sufficient to contain it ! Count. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce ! He will be here, and yet he is not here ! How can these contrarieties agree ? Tal. That will I show you presently." Shakespeare (?), King Henry VI., Part I., Act ii. sc. 3. The Achamians of Aristophanes. 21 Porter {with the alacrity of a sophist scenting a metaphysical argument"). I'll prove you, master, that he's both at once. Abroad his intellectual being soars Collecting verselets, and is out of doors : His " vital presence " and material man Sits in the garret, making verses scan. Die. Euripides is lucky, I declare, To have a porter who can split a hair ! * Call him. Porter. But that can't be. Die. But else you'll rue it, For I shall stay here knocking till you do it ! Euripides ! my Euripidion ! Hear me, if ever you heard any one ! It's Dicseopolis from Chollidae ! Eur. {within). But I'm engaged ! Die. But let them wheel you free ! Eur. But that can't be ! Die. But if you don't you'll rue it ! Eur. But, being too busy to come down, I'll do it ! [Euripides is wheeled out in the encyclema.\ Die. I say, Euripides ! Eur. Well, what d'ye say ? Die. Why, so you make your plays up there all day, Instead of the ground floor ! Well, that should teach us Why all of them go lame before they reach us, * Contrast. — "As I was sitting in my chamber, and thinking on a subject for my next Spectator, I heard two or three irregular bounces at my landlady's door, and upon the opening of it, a loud cheerful voice inquiring whether the philosopher was at home. The child who went to the door answered very innocently, that he did not lodge there. " — Spectator. t The encyclema was a semi-circular machine which was wheeled out from an opening at the back of the stage, some little distance above the ground. 22 The Achamians of Aristophanes. Verses and characters alike ! And, pray, Why wear those tatters from some tragic play, Those " weeds of woe " ? Well, that should teach us why They're both alike so very beggarly ! But, dear Euripides, I beg and pray, Give me a little rag from that old play : For I must make a long speech to the chorus, And " if we fail " — our life must answer for us ! Eur. What tatters would you ? Those my CEneus there, "The old man dismal-fated," used to wear? Die. Not CEneus, no ; a wretcheder than CEneus ! Eur. Blind Phcenix ? Die. No, although his rags had seen use. But there was one e'en wretcheder than he ! Eur. What " shreds of raiment " would the fellow see ? D'ye mean the rags of beggar Philoctetes ? Die. No ; my man's beggary far more complete is ! Eur. Would you the " muddy vesture " that went on The crippled limbs of that Bellerophon ? Die. No, not Bellerophon J but just that stamp, — A lame, persistent, prating, prosing tramp. Eur. I know him ! Telephus ! Die. Ay, Telephus ! * Give me his swaddlings and be generous ! Eur. {to his slave). Boy, bring him Telephus's tattered tags ! You'll find them lying on Thyestes' rags, Just under Ino's. Slave. Take them ! They are here ! * "Telephus, Prince of Mysia," was the title of a play of Euripides, which has not come down to us, and we cannot therefore estimate the accuracy of the portrait which the poet himself is here so quick to recognize. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. 23 Die. {holding the gar?nents up to the light to show their " loo fid and windowed raggedness "). By Jove ! They'll see through this disguise, I fear ! But 'tis indeed most tragically designed ! Euripides, as you have been so kind, Pray give me all belonging to the suit, The Mysian bonnet for my head, to boot. " Since I this day must play the beggar here, Be what I am but some one else appear ! " While all the audience know that I am I. But each poor foolish chorus-man stands by For me to flip my " word-craft " at his nose ! Eur. I will ; " the webs of thought thou weavest close ! " Die. " Bless you ; may Telephus be — what I trow / " Bravo ! What " word-craft " I'm being filled with now ! But still I want a little beggar's stick. Eur. Take it ; and leave the " marble mansion " quick ! Die. O soul ! thou'rt ousted from these halls of his, Though still in want of many properties ! So now thou must be firm, and persevere, And importune. — Euripides, my dear, Give me a tiny basket with a handle — One with a hole burnt through it by a candle ! Eur. What want then of this woven thing is thine ? Die. Why, none at all ; I want it — to be mine. Eur. " Evacuate the palace," and don't bother ! Die. May Heaven bless you — as it blessed your mother ! * Eur. Now, sir, begone ! Die. But grant me one more whim, * This is a very left-handed benediction, since the poet's mother passed her life behind a greengrocery stall. Hence the request for a " lettuce," as an appropriate family heirloom. 24 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. A little pitcher with a broken rim. Eur. There, take it with my curse, " plague of the palace." Die. By Jove ! to his own plaguiness he's callous ! But give me one thing more, a little jug — There's a good darling — with a sponge for plug ! Eur. Fellow, you'll rob me of my tragedy ! Take it and go ! Die. I'm going ;— yet, dear me ! What shall I do ? I want just one thing more, And then I'll go for ever. I implore, Euripides — for very life I ask it — Give me some withered leaves to line the basket ! Eur. There ! there ! You'll ruin me ! My plays are "sped"! Die. No more ; I'm going : for my " hardihead " Is over great, " nor recks of royal loathing." — Oh dear ! Poor me ! I'm lost and brought to nothing ! I'm done for ! I forgot the corner-stone Of all my fortunes ! — Euripidion, Sweetest and best of men, I thee implore ! May I be hanged if I ask any more, But this one, single trifle, and no other — Just one poor lettuce, " heirloom of thy mother ! " Eur. The man insults us. " Close the barriers," there ! [Euripides is wheeled in. Die. Poor soul, without a lettuce thou must fare ! Now do the dangers of the race dishearten A soul that's going to speak up for the Spartan ? Here is the scratch ! Come forth, my soul, and toe it ! Dost halt ? Hast thou not drunk — the piteous poet ? That's right : and now go yonder, " poor my heart," And lay your head down there to speak your part, The Achamians of Aristophanes. 25 Screw up your courage ! Eyes upon the goal ! Art ready ? Go ! Well done, my noble soul ! \si Semi- Chorus. What shall you say ? What is your plan ? Shameless, insolent, brazen man ! To pledge the State your neck, as you have done, Defending a minority of one ! 2nd Semi-Chorus. He does not fear his task to-day ! Since you have chosen it, speak away ! Die. " Take it not ill," spectators, " I beseech," That " though a beggar " I shall make a speech Before Athenians upon State concerns In comic style : e'en Comedy discerns The claims of justice, and what I shall say Will be severe, but just ; and yet to-day Cleon will not accuse me with his jeer That I abuse the State with strangers here.* At this Lenaean feast we're quite alone ; The strangers haven't come yet ; there are none Arrived with tribute, and no troops as yet From the allies ; so now at least we're met All by ourselves, clean-husked Athenians born, — For as to Metics, they're the chaff o' the corn ! \ Now, / hate Spartans very much indeed, And wish the ocean-god, whose victims bleed * It appears that Cleon, in his accusation of Aristophanes before referred to, had made a point by insisting on the fact that ' ' The Babylonians " was per- formed at the great Dionysian festival in March, when the city was crowded with strangers, and when the libel would be consequently more gross. t The "Metics" were resident but non-naturalized foreigners. 26 The Achamians of Aristophanes. On Taenarum, would make their houses fall, Shaken by earthquakes, down upon them all ! For I've had vines cut down as well as others. But — since all present here are friends and brothers — Why blame the Spartans for this inconvenience ? For there are men with us — but not Athenians, — I never said they were Athenians, mind ! — Not men at all, but wretched, ill-designed False counterfeits, the current coin debased,* Flash citizens, dishonoured and disgraced, Who confiscated the Megarians' jerkins ! And if they sighted garlic, salt or girkins, Lev'rets or sucking-pigs, they called them " ware From Megara," and sold them then and there ! That was a custom native to the land ; 'Twas graver matter when a drunken band Of cottabus-befuddled \ boys went over And stole a girl from her Megarian lover. Then the Megarians, bursting with vexation, Steal from Aspasia in retaliation Two other doxies ; and the war that drenches All Greece with blood was due to these three wenches ! % * " An't please your Majesty, we have brought you here a slip, a piece of false coin : one that is neither stamped with true coin for his excuse nor with good clothes for his redemption." — "The Dumb Knight," Act v. sc. I. t The "cottabus" was a game, which consisted in throwing the wine left at the bottom of the cups into a metal dish, often placed at some distance from the thrower, without spilling any on the ground. As this pastime required a great number of heel-taps, and necessitated the con- sumption of a good deal of liquor, it was very popular with young Athens. X Those who believe that "if the nose of Cleopatra had been an inch shorter the destinies of the whole world would have been changed," will perhaps find as much truth in this gossiping account of " Pericles the Olympian " being roused by the wrongs of his mistress Aspasia, as in the sober pages of the historian who ignores her existence. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. 27 For then the Olympian Pericles in ire Fulmined and lightened with vindictive fire,* And shook all Hellas with his armed throngs, And laid down laws that read like drinking-songs, — \ " That the Megarians do no more remain On land, or market-place, or sea, or plain ! "" Then the Megarians, when famine's stride Came nearer, begged the Spartans to provide That the Three- Women Bill should be repealed ; But, though they often begged, we would not yield ; And thence arose the clatter of the shield. You'll say, " 'Twas wrong." But what was right, I pray ? Come now, suppose a Spartan, some fine day, Sailed to Seriphus, and gave information, And sold — a puppy-dog to your vexation ! Would you have stayed at home? No, that you'd not ! The truth is, you'd have launched upon the spot Three hundred galleys, filled the town with bawling For ship-owners and captains, soldiers calling, With pay being given, measuring of rations, Figure-heads gilded, groaning trading-stations, With thongs and wine-skins, people buying firkins, Garlic-heads, olives, nets of onions, girkins, Chaplets, sprats, bruises, piping-women, scars ; * "Whose resistless eloquence Wielded at will that fierce democratic, Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece." Milton, Paradise Regained, Bk. iv. f There is a special allusion to a drinking-song by Timocrates of Rhodes : — " O blind Wealth ! that thou mightst be Never seen again, On the earth, or on the sea, Or the fruitful plain ! " 28 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. The dockyard had been full of flattening spars, And banging nails, and fitting oars for griping, Flutes playing, boatswains whistling, pipers piping. That you'd have done ; " Deem we that Telephus Had not ? then reason hath departed us ! " ist Semi-Chor. How dare you, beggar, talk like this, and task all Informers to our face, you arrant rascal ? 2nd Semi-Chor. Nay, by Poseidon, but the man speaks fair : All that he says is true, not false, I swear ! ist Semi-Chor. And if it is, what right has he to speak it? On his bold head my vengeance shall be wreaked ! [The first Semi-Chorus advance in a threatenmg attitude towards Dic^opolis. 2nd Semi-Chor. (interposing). Ho, there ! Where are you running to ? Stay ! stay ! If you touch him, you'll get a throw, I say. [A struggle takes place between the two divisions of the Chorus, in which the first Semi-Chorus, the party hostile to Dicteopolis, is worsted; thereupon it implores the assistance of Lamachus. i si Semi-Chor. (sings). Lamachus ! Appear ! appear ! Let the lightning of thine eye Strike the foeman's heart with fear ! Fellow-tribesman, hasten nigh ! " Bless us now with wished sight ! " Mighty, Gorgon-crested knight ! Is there here a warrior-form, Knight-at-arms or colonel ? The Achamians of Aristophanes. 29 Any soldier skilled to storm Town and tower impregnable ? — Let him come to aid with haste, — For I'm grappled round the waist ! [Lamachus strides upon the stage, accoutred like a burlesque hero with rustling plumes and clanging armour. Lam. Whence came that martial summons from afar ? Where must I aid ? where wake the din of war ? Who roused the Gorgon from her case of leather ? Die. {feigning extreme terror). Sir Lamachus ! What fettle and what a feather ! 1st Semi-Chor. O Lamachus, hasn't this scurvy jack Been slandering all our State this long time back ? Lam. How ? Dares a mendicant like thee talk thus ? Die. Grammercy ! Pardon it, Sir Lamachus ! If a beggar like me did prate and prattle so ! Lam. What saidst thou of us ? Speak ! Die. I — don't — yet — know ! Your terrible armour makes my head go round ! Oh, please, please put that bugbear on the ground ! Lam. (laying down his shield). There, then ! Die. Now turn it upside down. Lam. {reversing the shield so that the Gorgon-head is under- most). I've done it. Die. Now give me, please, the feather from your bonnet. Lam. Well, there's the feather. Die. Hold my head awhile ; I don't feel well — those plumes have stirred my bile ! * * This scene is a burlesque upon a well-known incident in the Iliad : "Thus as he spoke, great Hector stretched his arms To take his child ; but back the infant shrank, SO The Achamians of Aristophanes. Lam. Wretch !* Wouldst thou use my feather for a vomit ? Die. What is the bird if that's a feather from it ? It's a white-feathered Boaster, I suppose.* Lam. Ha ! thou shalt die ! Die. No, Lamachus j your blows Don't reach the point between us here at all. Lam. How, beggar ? Speak'st thou thus to a general ? Die. Am I a beggar ? Lam. Why, what are you, then ? Die. What am I ? Why, I'm a good citizen, And not a toadying place-hunter's son : But, since the war began, the son of a gun, And not the son of a pay-captain — like you ! Lam. I was elected Die. By an owl or two ! "j* Well, I made peace, for I was sick and ill To see grey-headed veterans serving still, And boys like you all shuffling off to race — Some with three drachmas salary to Thrace, Crying, and sought his nurse's sheltering breast, Scared by the brazen helm and horsehair plume, That nodded, fearful, on the warrior's crest. Laughed the fond parents both, and from his brow Hector the casque removed, and set it down, All glittering, on the ground ; then kissed his child." Derby's Iliad, vi. 543-550. * t* His device was a cock azure with a tail argent, with this motto — • I neither strutte nor crowe nor fyghte, For why? Because my tail is white.'" — From an unpublished election squib by the late Lord Macaulay. t The Greek is "by three cuckoos ; " that is, according to one explana- tion, by three fellows who gave their votes over and over again, so as to seem far more than three, just as when a cuckoo cries the whole place seems full of cuckoos. But probably "cuckoo" was a common term for a stupid fellow, as "owl" is with us. The Achamians of Aristophanes. 31 Your Tisamenophgenippsean brothers And Vagabondhipparchides ; and others, Ceres and Theodorus, to Chaonians Or Chares, with our Attico-Bezonians, — * Others to Camarina and to Sicily — Ay, and to any other place that is silly ! Lam. They were elected Die Ay, but what's the reason You're always going, in and out of season, And getting salaries, and none of these ? {Pointing to the Acharnians. Say, did you ever go, Marilades, On an embassy — although you're old enough ? See there ! he shakes his head ; yet he's your stuff, A steady working man. And what of these, Dracyllus, Prinides, Euphorides ? Has any one of you been all the way To see the Great King, or Chaonia ? They answer, " No ! " 'Tis only Lamachus And Ccesyra's baby f who have prospered thus ! Men who were only yesterday so drowned In debts and taxes, that their friends would sound The alarm, " Keep off! " whene'er they came in sight, — Like people pouring out the slops at night ! * These " un-in-one-breath-utterable " words are compounded of the names of persons otherwise quite unknown. " They are the grubs," says Mitchell, "whom the amber of poetry alone preserves in existence." The word translated "Attico-Bezonians" means literally "humbugs from the borough of Diomeise," to whom the term "Bezonian," which seems to bear the double meaning of "a new-levied, fresh-water soldier," and "a rascall, a base-humoured scoundrel," seems peculiarly applicable (cf. Shakespeare, " Henry IV., Part II.," Act v. sc. 3). t The allusion here is quite lost. Some think Alcibiades is meant, who had a maternal ancestress of the name of Ccesyra. 32 The Achawiians of Aristophanes. Lam. O sovereign people ! Must I bear this, say ! Die. No — not when Lamachus refuses pay ! Lam. Then will I wage most furious bloody strife On sea and land throughout my mortal life, Against all Spartans and their base allies ! With puissant arm I'll strike and scourge mine enemies ! [Exit Lamachus. Die. And I make proclamation unto Sparta And her allies, that all with me may barter. Megarians and Boeotians may thus Come to my market — but not Lamachus ! [Exit Dicteopolis. THE PARABASIS.* I. COMMATION. He's winning the day, and the people incline To the truce ; in their conscience his plea sticks. But we'll doff our long-flowing robes and combine To chant out the loud Anapaestics ! II. ANAPAESTS. From the time when his first comic chorus was given our Master f he never * " The Parabasis " is the most striking and original feature of the old Greek comedy, being the last representative of that primitive comus from which the drama took its rise. The Chorus, consisting of four and twenty persons, turned round from their usual position between the stage and the thytnele, or altar of Dionysus, which stood in the centre of the orchestra, and passed round to the other side of the altar, singing the Commation. They then stood facing the audience, and, after divesting themselves of their long robes in order to dance with greater ease, proceeded to chant the Anapaests and following choric odes, which have no connection with the plot of the drama, but are addressed directly from the poet to his hearers. t The poet whose comedy was to be represented at the festivals was also master of the Chorus, whom he drilled and instructed in their parts. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. 33 Has come on the stage to assure us that he is remarkably clever; But his enemies charged him of late, in Athens of speedy decision, Of libelling people and State with an insolent scoffing derision, And so he now wants to reply to Athens of — fickle decision, Declaring his merits are high and deserving of your recognition. 'Twas he who prevented the State from being fooled by each foreign oration, From swallowing flattery's bait with an open-mouthed cit's delectation. Ere that, all the envoys who came from the cities would try to get round you, Recalling your glorious name and the "violet chaplets" that crowned you — * When any one uttered the phrase you were all so rejoiced beyond measure * At the " crowns " all united to praise that you sat upon tip-tail for pleasure ! And if any one flattered your pride, to the " sleekness " of Athens referring, He'd bring all the world to his side by a compliment fit for a herring. In this way, our master replies, he has done you a service emphatic, By showing how all the allies are conducting their rule demo- cratic,! * The epithets "violet-crowned" and "sleek" are bestowed upon the city by Pindar. The first refers to the graceful Athenian custom of wearing wreaths of flowers, especially violets and roses, upon the head ; and the second to their habit of anointing themselves with olive oil. t In " The Babylonians " Aristophanes appears to have taken the Athe- nians down a peg or two, by contrasting the government existing in the allied states with their own haphazard democracy. D 34 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. So now they will quickly arrive with the tribute they owe to the city, All eager to see him alive, the poet so brave and so witty ; The poet who risked his own life to Athens her duty declaring. Yea, now in far countries is rife the fame of his glorious daring ; The King himself lately demanded of some envoys from Sparta discreet,* First, which of the two states commanded the Grecian seas with her fleet ; And secondly, which was so often abused by this wonderful poet : " Already their wicked hearts soften to virtue," he said, " and I know it ; The side he so wisely advises will soon get the best of the blows ! " And this is why Sparta devises proposals of peace for her foes ; For she asks back ^Egina — not caring a jot for the island, that's clear ; But craftily bent upon tearing our bard from his natural sphere, f But never do you let him go, for he'll play out his part with sincerity, And promises ever to show the virtuous path to prosperity. Not fawning nor offering bribes, not tricking nor playing the cheat, Not drenching with long diatribes, but teaching what's honest and meet ! * The monarch in question is the king of the Persian Empire, called always the King, par excellence. Of course this is only an amusing " puff." We can hardly infer from it, as one translator of this play does, that "the reputation of our poet was so great that it had reached even to the Persian Court, and induced the powerful monarch of that country to inquire into his native place and abode ; " still less that ' ' he was held in great esteem there " (!) (Wheelwright's "Aristophanes," vol. i. p. vii. preface). t Aristophanes held some land in the island of ^Egina. The Achamians of Aristophanes. 35 III. Macron. {Pronounced by the actor in a breath.) And therefore let Cleon exhibit his skill In plotting against me whatever he will ; " Confederate justice " my bosom shall thrill, And I'll never, like him, be convicted of ill, Who was false to the State and is false to it still ! IV. Strophe. Come, Acharnian Muse, that burnest With the fire that feeds thy heart, Energetic, strong, and earnest Is thy native simple art ! Thy live vigour shall not dwindle, As the sparks incessant leap Which the helpful bellows kindle From the oak logs' smouldering heap : When the little fish are lying, All upon the charcoal frying ; And, while some are kneading bread, Others mix the Thasian pickle, Pickle, "richly filleted."* So, I pray thee, be not fickle ! Bring a song, Lively, nervous, bold, and strong, Rough with rustic hardihood, Come to me, thy demesman good ! * Pindar had applied this epithet to the goddess of memory, to whom it was hardly more appropriate than to a Thasian pickle. 36 The Achamians of Aristophanes. V. Epirema. We the aged, we the hoary, blame the thing our State has done ! That our old age is not cherished, for the sea-fights that we won ! Hard, ungrateful is your conduct ! dragging men with age opprest To be laughed at in the law courts by the stripling's ready jest ! Ancient men, mere living shadows, deaf to sound, with pipe played out, Whose Poseidon and Preserver is the staff they bear about ! Mumbling, drivelling with dotage, there we stand within our place, Seeing nothing but the darkness of the labyrinthean case. Then the youngster, very jealous to conduct his accusation, Smartly cudgels us with phrases clenched into a neat oration. Then he drags us up to question, setting all his word-traps baited, Hounding, pounding, and confounding poor Tithonus evil- fated !— Toothless with old age he mutters, and at last he goes away, And the verdict is against him, his accuser wins the day. Then he sobs and tells his comrades, with a bitter, tearful whine — " All the money for my coffin must be paid to meet the fine ! " 4 VI. Antistrophe. Shame upon your evil-doing ! Ye who bring up every day To the water-clock * and ruin Some poor fellow, old and grey ! * The water-clock, or hour-glass, which marked the lapse of time in the courts of law, and by which the length of speeches was regulated. The Acharnians of Aristophanes. 37 Some old mate who shared your labour, Wiping off the manly sweat From his brow, your constant neighbour In the battle's dust and heat ; One with whom you fought and won, On the field of Marathon. We were making charges then On the foe that backward hurried, Now by shameless countrymen We ourselves are charged and worried ; Till at last We're defeated too, and cast. Who this scandal will deny ? Even Marpsias * dare not try ! VII. Antepirema. Should a bent and hoary greybeard like Thucydides "f be sued ? Vext by this abomination of a Scythian solitude, Ruined by this prating pleader, this Cephisodemus here ? Ah ! my heart was full with pity and I brushed aside a tear When I saw a Scythian archer, a long-winded advocate, Sore perplexing and confounding that old servant of the State : Who, by Ceres, in the old time when he was Thucydides, From that dame herself would never have endured such wrongs as these ! * Who this particular Marpsias was is not known ; but he was evidently a lawyer, and so the joke remains. t This Thucydides was not the great historian, but he may have been that son of Milesias who was the political opponent of Pericles. Cephiso- demus is not known to history, and therefore we cannot tell why he is called a "Scythian archer." 33 The Acharnians of Aristophanes. Rather would he first have gripped and flung Euathluses * by dozens, Then bawled down ten thousand archers, and outshot his father's cousins ! But, since now you will not suffer aged men to sleep in peace, Vote that suits should be divided, that this great injustice cease. Let the toothless charge the toothless, let the old accuse the old, Let the young have smart accusers, ready-tongued and quick and bold, So in future you must never fine or banish those who're flung, Save when old men sue the old men and when young men sue the young ! Enter Dioeopolis. Die. These are the bounds, then, of my place of barter Which I throw open to allies of Sparta. Megarians and Boeotians may thus Come to my market — but not Lamachus. The market stewards I elect together By lot to be — these three good straps of leather J And hither let no base informer come, Nor any other man from Sneakingholm. Now I'll set up the pillar with the treaty, And make it visible to all the city. [Exit DiCiEOPOLis. Enter a Megarian, with two young Daughters, f Meg. Hail ! Mart o' Athens, to Megarians dear ! I've yearned for ye, by Friendship's Lord, sae sair * Nothing is known of Euathlus except that he was a wrangling advo- cate ; the allusions in the next line are quite lost. t This Megarian talks in a very broad Doric dialect, the effect ©f which I have endeavoured to reproduce by the use of Scotch. The Acharnians of Aristophanes, 39 As ye'd 'a bin my mither ! Hoot ! thegither ! Ye misleared bairns of an unlucky feyther ! Gie up, and (gin ye fin' it) pree the haggis ! Just hearkee now wi' a' your empty — baggies ; Wad ye be selt or wad ye starve to death ? Daughters. We wad be selt ! selt ! Meg. An' sae I think. But whare'd ye fin', guid faith ! A coof sae feckless as to buy ye baith, Ye guid-for-naething hizzies ! Hech ! I've hit on A guid Megarian plan ! I'se gar ye pit on Thae clouts, and say I've brought twa soos to nirTer ! Pit on the pig-graith now, an' dinna differ Frae braw auld Grumphie's bairns, or, on my aith, I'se take ye hame at ance to starve to death ! And pit thae snouts here now upon your grunzies ; And gae into this sack at ance, ye dunces ; And mind ye grumph, and say " Koi ! Koi ! " an' squeal Like whingin Mystery pigs * an' unco deal. Now I'se ca' Dicseopolis to choose. — Hoolie ! my mon ! an' wad ye buy some soos ? Enter Dioeopolis. Die. What's this ? A man from Megara ? Meg. We're come To market, mon. Die. And how d'ye do at home ? Meg. We sit a' day i' the chimla-lug and — fast ! Die. Ah ! that's delightful, if the liquor last ! f And if a piper's there, that's very pleasant ! * Pigs sacrificed to Demeter before initiation into her Mysteries, t Dicseopolis, unaccustomed to the Doric brogue, understands him to say " feast." 40 The Achamians of Aristophanes. How else do you Megarians fare at present ? Meg. Jist so-so : when I started to come hither The council was consultin' a'thegither, What was the best and quickest gate to — die ! Die. Then you will soon be freed from misery ! Meg. Weel, weel. Die. What else ? How is corn selling there ? Meg. It's like the gods wi' us — it's unco dear ! Die. Then have you salt ? Meg. Haen't ye the saut-warks too ? Die. Or garlic ? Meg. Fient haet garlic hae we noo ! When ye invade our kintra like feal-mice, Ye howk up a' the heads o' 't, in a trice ! Die. What have you, then ? Meg. Twa soos for the Mysteries ! Die. Good : let me see them. Meg. They're guid soos, are these. Lift up this ane and feel her, gin ye choose, How much she weighs. They're baith maist buirdly soos ! Die. {feeling the sack). What's this thing ? Meg. It's a soo, mon. Die. Of what breed ? Meg. Megarian. Isna that a soo indeed ? Die. It doesn't look like one to me, it's true. Meg. Mair shame t'ye ! Leuk at his suspectin' noo ! He says this is no pig ava ! I'se wad ye, Some thymit saut noo, an ye wiss, my laddie, That it's a proper pig by the law o' Greece ! Die. Well, it's a proper pig of the human race ! Meg. Trowth, mon, it's mine — wha's did ye think it was ? 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