Citation
Stories from the Greek comedians

Material Information

Title:
Stories from the Greek comedians Aristophanes, Philemon, Diphilus, Menander, Apollodorus
Creator:
Church, Alfred John, 1829-1912
Aristophanes ( Author )
Philemon, 3rd/4th cent. B.C ( Author )
Diphilus, 4th cent. B.C ( Author )
Menander ( Author )
Apollodorus ( Author )
Seeley and Co ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Seeley and Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
vii, 344, 16 p., [16] leaves of plates : col. ill. ; 20 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Greek drama (Comedy) -- Juvenile drama ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile drama ( lcsh )
Wit and humor -- Juvenile drama ( lcsh )
Social life and customs -- Juvenile drama -- Greece ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1893 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre:
Publishers' catalogues ( rbgenr )
drama (literary genre) ( aat )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Publisher's catalogue follows text.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Alfred J. Church ; with sixteen illustrations from the antique.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
025618751 ( ALEPH )
ALG4471 ( NOTIS )
03620041 ( OCLC )

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Full Text
40
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The Baldwin Library







Be "STORIES FROM. THE GREEK

_ COMEDIANS ©















TRAINING A CHORUS,



-* STORIES

GREEK COMEDIANS

+
age

- ' ARISTOPHANES, PHILEMON,
_ DIPHILUS, MENANDER, APOLLODORUS

BY THE -
Rev. ALFRED J. CHURCH, M.A.

LaTELy Proressor oF LaTIN In UNIVERSITY CoLLEGE, Lonpon

‘WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS
AFTER THE ANTIQUE

LONDON
SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED
Essex STREET, STRAND
1893






PREFACE.



It has been said that the Greeks had three schools
of comedy, — the old, the middle, and the new. The
old was the “Comedy of Politics.” It took the form
of extravaganza or farce. The reader will find nine
‘specimens of it in this volume, all taken from Aris-
tophanes, who indeed is the only writer of this school
that is left to us. With the middle we need not now
concern ourselves. Possibly we may get some idea
of what it was like from the Women in Parliament
and the Plutus, two of Aristophanes’s later plays.
The new comedy was the “Comedy of Manners.”
It may be compared with the dramas that bear this
name on the modern stage, and also with the ordinary
novel. We have it only in the translations of Plautus
and Terence.

I have dealt very freely with my originals, not
indeed adding anything, but leaving out much, trans-
lating sometimes, and sometimes paraphrasing. Of
the liberty which I have allowed myself, I may give
an instance. In the Achkarnians I have in one place

v



vi PREFACE.

translated “drachmas” by “ guineas,” though “ shil-
lings” would have been nearer the truth. But the
context seemed to require it. It was necessary that
the envoys should be thought overpaid, and the word
“shillings” would not have given the impression.

I have many obligations to acknowledge. Perhaps ©
my largest debt is to the translation of Mr. Hookham .
Frere. These I have even ventured to alter and
compress, and to mingle with them some of my own
renderings. I owe much to the admirable versions
by Mr. B. B. Rogers of the Wasps and the Peace,
and to the editions of Mr. Merry, one of the most
ingenious and felicitous of Aristophanes’s critics. I
would mention also a translation of the Acharnians
by Mr. Billson, and of the Women in Parliament
by the Rev. R. Smith. Mr. Lucas Collins’s. excellent
summaries in the “Ancient Classics for English
Readers” I have also found useful.

ALFRED J. CHURCH.



CONTENTS.

PART I.

SroRIES FROM THE OLp CoMEDY.
CHAPTER
I. THE ACHARNIANS. ARISTOPHANES.

Il. THe KNIGHTS. ARISTOPHANES .
III. PEacr. ARISTOPHANES .

Ve THE Wasps. ARISTOPHANES .
V. THE CLouDS. ARISTOPHANES
VI. THE Brrps. ARISTOPHANES .

VII. THe Frocs. ARISTOPHANES .

VIIL. THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. ARISTOPHANES .

IX. PLutus. ARISTOPHANES
PART II.
STORIES FROM THE NEw CoMEDy.

I. Tue BuRIED TREASURE. PHILEMON .
“TI. THe Guost. PHILEMON

III. THE SHIPWRECK. DIPHILUS .

IV. THE BROTHERS. MENANDER.

V. THE Grru or ANDROS. MENANDER .

VI. PHORMIO. APOLLODORUS
yii

PAGE

239
264
279
302
315
326



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

TRAINING A CHORUS .
GENERAL DOBATTLE .. .

Biusrer’s Way... . .,

TRYGAUS BRIBING HERMES WITH A GOLD

CUR AND PINCHER. ...
PHEIDIPPIDES Nar atay oe
TRISH pet ee cele asin gh

HERCULES AND POSEIDON .
BaccHUS AND XANTHIAS
THE WOMEN’S CONSPIRACY .
fESCULAPIUS . . 1...

PHILTO AND LESBIONICUS .

THE TEMPLE OF APHRODITE .

Micio AND DeMEA ...

THE WRATH OF SIMo . .

PHADRIA AND THE Music GirL. ,

PAGE
Frontispiece

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Parr |
STORIES FROM THE OLD COMEDY.

ARISTOPHANES.







STORIES FROM THE GREEK COMEDIANS.

I,
THE ACHARNIANS.

The long struggle between Athens and Sparta which goes by the
name of the Peloponnesian war broke out early in 431 B.c. Athens
kept for a considerable time the command of the sea, but was unable
to resist in the field the overwhelming forces of Sparta and her allies.
Early in the summer of the first year of the war, Archidamus, one of
the kings of Sparta, entered the Athenian territory at the head of an
army of eighty thousand men. Pericles, who was then the leading
statesman of Athens, had persuaded his countrymen to dismantle their
country-houses and farms, and to bring all their movable and portable
property within the walls. Still the sight of the ravages of the invad-
ing host, which, of course, could be plainly seen from the walls, roused
the people almost to madness. The Athenians, though excelling in
maritime pursuits, were passionately fond of a country life, and it was
almost more than they could bear to see their farms and orchards and
olive-yards wasted with fire. Inferior as they were in numbers, they
loudly demanded to be led out against the invaders, and it was as
much as Pericles could do to keep them within the walls. The inhabi-
tants of the deme or township of Acharnze were prominent among the
malcontents. Acharnz was the richest and most populous of the
townships of Attica, contributing no less than ten thousand men to
the total force (about twenty-nine thousand) which Athens could put
into the field. The chief occupation of the place was charcoal-burning,
the woods of Mount Parnes being conveniently near. No place was
more interested in the question of peace and war, as it was here that
the Spartan king pitched his camp. The invasion was repeated year

_ after year, though on some few occasions various things happened to
prevent it. Not only did the Athenians lose greatly by the desolation
of their country, but they suffered much by being cooped up within the

3



4 ARISTOPHANES.

walls of the city; a most fatal pestilence was thus caused in the second
year of the war. And it was but a small satisfaction to retaliate by
ravaging the coasts of the Peloponnesians, and by annually invading
the territory of Megara, a city which had concluded ‘an alliance with
Sparta, There had always been a peace party in the state, and when
Pericles died, early in the third year of the war, this party became more
powerful, At the same time the war party conducted affairs less pru-
dently. The cautious policy of Pericles was discarded for remote
expeditions and out-of-the-way schemes. Aristophanes, in this play,
exhibited in February, 425 (it is the earliest comedy that has come
down to us), sets forth the views of the advocates of peace. He
expresses the feeling of distress caused by the desolation of the coun-
try, and also the dislike felt by prudent politicians for the extravagant
ideas of the war party. The play, or, as I may call it for my present
purpose, the story, opens in the Athenian place of Assembly (Pnyx).
Diczopolis (Just-City), whose name I have Englished by “ Mr. Hon-
esty,” is sitting alone on one of the empty benches, and begins by
expressing his disgust at the indifference of his fellow-citizens.

“Dear me!” said Mr. Honesty to himself, as he
got up and walked about the empty place of As-
sembly at Athens, “how careless these people are
about their country! Look at them there, lounging
among the market stalls, and dodging the rope.!
Even the magistrates are not here. As for peace—
nobody gives a thought to it. For myself, I think of
nothing else: I am here the first thing in the morn-
ing, and it is always ‘peace,’ ‘peace’ with me.
How I hate the city! How I long to see the fields
again, my own village, and my poor little farm! No
fellows there bawling out, ‘Buy my charcoal!’ ‘Buy
my oil!’ ‘Buy my everything!’ There was no

1 A rope rubbed with red chalk, with which the police swept loiter-
ers into the place of Assembly.



THE ACHARNIANS. B

buying there. Everything came off the estate, and
was to be had for nothing. Ah! here they come at
last. Well, nobody shall say a word with my good-
will, except he speaks for peace.” ~

After various preliminaries the magistrates took
their places, the people crowded in, and a herald
opened the proceedings by. shouting out, “ Does any
one wish to speak?”

“Yes; I do,” cried out a strange-looking creature,
dressed as if he had stepped down fom a pedestal in
a temple.

“What is your name?” asked the herald.

“Demigod,” said the stranger. “I am ‘directly
descended from the goddess Demeter, and I am sent
by the gods to arrange for a peace between this city
and Sparta; only, unfortunately, I want a little ready
money for my journey, and I can’t get the magis-
trates to advance it.”

“This is a very sensible man,” said Mr. Honesty.
The next moment he was amazed to see that the
presiding magistrate was sending the archers! to turn

the stranger out. “Hold!” he cried, “you insult
: the people. Don’t you know that the man wants to
give us peace?”

Just at this moment there was a diversion. The-
herald shouted out, “Silence there! Make way for
the ambassadors from the Great King!”

“Gentlemen,” said one of the ambassadors, coming

1“ Archers” would be about equivalent to police.



6 ARIST OPHANES.

forward, “you will remember that you sent us a few
years ago on an embassy to the Great King with a
poor allowance of a couple of guineas a day.”

“Poor guineas!” muttered Mr. Honesty, “we shall
never see them again.”

The ambassadors went on: “You ought to know,
gentlemen, that it was a very laborious service on
which you sent us. All day we had to ride in car-
riages, lying on soft cushions, with an awning over
our heads.”

“Very laborious!” growled Honesty. “I was on
guard all night, with nothing over me, and only a
mat under me.”

Ambassador, “Then the barbarians entertained us,
and we were obliged to drink strong wine, without a
drop of water in it, if you will believe us, out of cups
of crystal or gold, for this, you must know, is the test
with them; the best man is he who can eat and
drink most. At the end of four years we reached
the royal palace, and found that His Majesty had
gone to the hills for his health. There he stayed
eight months, till the cure was complete. When he
came home he gave us audience, and entertained us
at a royal banquet, at which were served up oxen
baked whole in crust.”

Honesty. “Oxen baked whole in crust! Did you
ever hear such a lie?”

Amb. “ Also there was served up to us a big bird,
as big as a man, that they call the Chousibus.”



THE ACHARNIANS. 7

lon. “Chousibus indeed! You have choused us
out of our guineas.”

Amb. “ However, we did not go for nothing; we
have brought back with us a great Persian noble-
man. Sham-Artabas is his name; he is nothing less
than the King’s Eye. Come forward, Sham-Artabas,
and explain to the people of Athens what the Great
King means to do for them.”

On this, a curious creature, wearing a mask which
was all one big eye, came forward, followed by a
train of attendants in Persian attire. He muttered
something which sounded like —

“ Artaman exarksam anapissonai satra.’’}

“There!” cried the ambassador, “didn’t you hear
him? Don’t you understand him?” .

“Understand him!” said Mr. Honesty, “no; not:
a syllable.” . yen 3

Amb. “Why, he said that the Great King means
to send us some gold. Tell them” (turning to Sham-
Artabas), “tell them about the gold; speak louder
and more plainly.”

The Eye spoke again.

“ Gapey Greeks, gold a fooly jest.”

Hon. “ Ah, that is plain enough!”

Amb. “Well, what do you make of it?”

ton. “Why, that it is a foolish jest for us Greeks
to think that we shall get any gold.” 7

1 Supposed to resemble the words with which a Persian edict
commenced.



8 - ARISTOPHANES.

_ Amb. “Youre quite wrong; he didn’t say ‘jest,’
but ‘chest.’ He told us that we should get. chests
full of gold.”

__ Hon. “Chests indeed! You're nothing but a swin-
dler. Stand off, now, and I will get the truth out of
the fellow. Now listen to me, Mr. Sham-Artabas,
and answer me plainly. You see this fist; if you
don’t want a bloody nose of right royal purple, speak
the truth. Is the king going to send us any gold?”

The Eye shook his head.

“ Are the ambassadors cheating us?”

The Eye nodded.

“Well, anyhow, the creature knows how to nod in
Greek.”

While saying this he closely scrutinized the stran-
gers, and cried out, “I believe he comes from this
very city; and, now I come to look, I see two scoun-
drels in his train whom I know as well as I know my
own brother. Ho there, you rascal! what do you
mean —?”

“ Silence!”? shouted the herald; “the Senate in-
vites the King’s Eye to dine in the Town Hall.”

Hon. “Is not that enough to make a man hang
himself? These rascals are to dine in the Town
Hall, and I am left outside here! ‘But here comes
Demigod. Now, my good fellow, take these two
half-crowns, and make the best of your way to
Sparta, and conclude a separate peace for me, my
wife, my children, and my maid-servant. But whom
have we here?”



THE ACHARNIANS. 9

“ Silence!” cried the herald again, “for His Excel-
lency, the ambassador, returned from Thrace |”

“Gentlemen,” said the ambassador, “I should not
have stayed so long —”’

fon. (ede). “Tf you had not Been paid by the
day.”

Amb. “Tf it had not been for the snow, which
covered all the country and froze up all the rivers.
We passed the time drinking with King Sitalces,
who is a very good friend of yours, gentlemen; he
chalks up your name on the walls, for all the world

like a lover.
“Sweet Athens, fair

’ Beyond compare.

As for his son, a citizen as you. know, he is passion-
ately fond of Athenian sausages, and would not be
satisfied till his father promised to send an army to
help us. The king swore that he would, aye, and so
big a one that we should say when we saw it, ‘Good
heavens! what a tremendous flight of locusts!’ ”

fon. “Well, you're right there. Locusts indeed!”

“These are the men,” the ambassador went on,
pushing forward as he spoke a troop of deplorable
looking ragamuffins; “they are the fiercest fellows
in Thrace. Give them a trifle of a couple of shillings
a day, and they will worry the Beeotians out of their
lives.”

“What!” shouted Honesty, “a couple of shillings
a day for these beggars! How about our brave sea-



Io ARISTOPHANES.

men, the men who really keep us safe? What do
they get? Two shillings! What an iniquity! Yes,
and one of the scoundrels has stolen my garlic. Ho
there, you magistrate, are you going to see a citizen
robbed before your eyes? Well, if you won't listen,
I will put a stop to this. I protest against going on
with business. I felt a drop of rain.” !

Hereupon the herald proclaimed, “ The Thracians
must attend again on the first of next month. The
Assembly is adjourned.”

“That is all right,” said Honesty, “but I have lost
my luncheon all the same. However, here comes my
friend Demigod back. Welcome, Demigod!”

“Tt’s a very poor welcome that I’ve had,” said the
man, who was panting for breath. “As I was coming
along, some wild fellows—charcoal-burners they
seemed to be—smelt out the treaties of peace.
‘What!’ they cried, ‘you bring treaties of peace,
when our vines are cut down to the ground! Stone
him! Down with him!’ And they filled their pock-
ets with stones and ran howling after me.”

flon. “Let them howl. Have you brought the
treaties?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Demigod, producing three
wine-skins, ‘I have three samples of them. Here is
a five years’ specimen; what do you think of it?”

1 This was the Greek form of parliamentary obstruction. The As-
sembly had to be adjourned for bad weather; that it had to be done if
a single member declared that he felt a drop of rain is doubtless an
exaggeration.



THE ACHARNIANS. It

Hon. “T don’t like it at all. It smells of rosin —
no, not exactly rosin, but pitch and ship-tar.”

Dem. “Try this ten years’ one, then; that may suit
you.”

Hon. “That’s not much better. There is a kind
of acidity about it; some sort of taste, it seems to me,
of ambassadors going about to quicken allies, and
allies hanging back.”

Dem. “Well, here’s the thirty years’ sort. What
do you think of that?”

Ffon. “ Admirable! That’s the kind for me. This
is pure nectar and ambrosia. No smack of ‘every
man will provide himself with rations for three days’
here, but a ‘go where you please’ kind of taste in
one’s mouth. I'll take this; no more wars for me,
but a jolly time on my own farm when the vintage
feast comes round again.”

Dem, “Very good; but I must be off, or those
charcoal-burners will be down upon me.”

Saying this, Demigod disappeared.

“And now,” said Honesty, “for a little festival of
my own.”

At this point the charcoal-burners rushed in, in
hot pursuit of Demigod, a set of stout old fellows, all
grimy and black with their work. While they were
looking about for the fugitive, cursing his impudence
for thinking of peace when their vines and fig-trees
were burnt to the ground, and lamenting the burden
of years which had made them lag behind in the



12 . ARISTOPHANES,

race, they spied Honesty coming out with his house-
hold, ‘prepared ‘to. celebrate the. festival in the old
fashion.. His. daughter walked in front, bearing on
her head a basket with a long roll of bread in. it;
Honesty himself carried a bowl of porridge, and two
slaves brought up the rear. .The. worthy man was
very anxious that.everything should be done in order.
He cried “Silence!” to the spectators, told his wife to
go up to the roof and look on, and was very partic-
* ular in his directions to his daughter... “Carry it
prettily, my dear,” he said, “and look your primmest,
and mind no one filches. your ornaments in the press.
You are a nice girl,” he went on, as he saw how well
she behaved; “your husband will. be a lucky man.
And now let me sing the song.

“Leader of the revel rout,
Of the drunken war and shout;
Half a dozen years are past,
Here we meet in peace at last;
All my wars and fights are o’er,
Drinking contests please me more;
If a drunken head should ache,
Bones and crowns we never break;
If we quarrel overnight
At a full carousing soak,
In the morning all is right,
And the shield hung out of sight |
In the chimney smoke.”

Scarcely had he finished, when the charcoal-burn-
ers, who had been. in hiding, burst. in. upon him,



‘THE ACHARNIANS. ‘13

crying, “This is the scoundrel with the meanes
Stone him! Stone him!”

Ffon. “What is all this about? You'll break the
bowl.” |

Charcoal-burners. “Stone him! Stone him!”

Hon, “But why, my venerable friends ?”

C.-6..“ You ask us why! You're a traitor. You
have made peace on your own account.”

fTon, “ But you haven’t heard why I made it.”

C.-6. “No, and won’t hear either. Stone him!
Stone him!”

Flon. “Wow! hold!”

C.-b. “Why should we hold? You’ve made peace
with the Spartans.”

Hon. “You won't listen, then?”

C.-b. “Not to a word.”

ffon. “Well; if you won't, I’ll have my revenge.
I’ve got a young townsman of yours here, and as
sure as you throw a ae stone, Pl run him
through.”

C-b..“ Good heavens! What does the fellow
mean? Has he got one of our children there?”

Ffon. “Throw, throw if you want to. But he
dies the death.” , :

So saying, he produced what looked like a baby in
long clothes, but turned out to be —a coal scuttle.
“Spare him! Spare him!” cried the charcoal-burn-
ers, and shook out all the stones from their pockets,
while Honesty dropped his’sword. After this he was
allowed to plead his cause.



14 ARISTOPHANES.

But to plead it effectively he had to make sure of
rousing the compassion of his judges, and this, it
occurred to him, could not be better done than by
donning some of the pitiable rags with which Eurip-
ides, the tragedian, was wont to clothe the heroes of
his dramas. “I must make my way to Euripides,”
he cried, and hurried off to the poet’s house. After
a little difficulty in discovering whether the great
man was at home or not, —he was at home himself,
writing a play, the servant explained, but his mind
was out collecting verses, —the petitioner was allowed
an interview. Euripides, who was sitting in his gar-
ret, himself dressed in rags, that he might be more in
sympathy with his subject, which was, as usual, a
hero in reduced circumstances, demanded what his
visitor wanted.

Hon. “J implore you, my dear Euripides, to give
me some rags from that old play of yours. I have
to make my defence, and if I fail it means death.”

Euripides. “What play? What rags? Do you
want those in which the luckless old CEneus! wres-
tled with fate?”

1 The stories of these unfortunate heroes may be briefly told:

1. CEneus, father of Tydeus, was king of AXtolia. Artemis, whose
sacrifices he had neglected, sent the Calydonian boar to ravage his
country. He was expelled from his kingdom by the sons of Agrius.

2. Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles, blinded by his father (according to
one tradition, but not in Homer) on account of a false accusation.

3. Philoctetes, one of the chieftains who sailed to Troy. He was

bitten in the foot by an adder in the course of the voyage, and the
wound became so noisome that his comâ„¢~ions could not endure his



THE ACHARNIANS. “Eg

Hon. “No, no; it must be some one far more
wretched than CEneus.”

&. “The blind Phoenix, then?”

Hon. “No, not Phoenix; far worse off than he.”

&. “What does the man want? The rags of the
beggar Philoctetes?”

Hon. “No; ten times more of a beggar than Phi-
loctetes.”

£. “Bellerophon, then, the blind Bellerophon?”

Hon. “No, not Bellerophon, though it is true that
he was a blind beggar and a terrible fellow to talk.”

E. “I know the man you mean — Telephus of
Mysia.”

Hon, “Exactly; it is Telephus’s rags I want.”

E. (to his servant). “ Boy, give this gentleman the
rags of Telephus. They are on the top of Thyestes’s |
and below Ino’s.”

Flon. “You have been very kind, Euripides, but if
you would give me also the Mysian hat.”

&. “Here it is.”

Hon. “ And the beggar’s staff.’’ é

E. “Take it, and vanish from my marble halls.”

Hon. “O my soul! see how hard he is on me, and

neighbourhood and put him ashore on the island of Lemnos, then unin-
habited. :

4. Bellerophon, exiled on account of a false accusation, and after-
wards lamed by a fall from his winged horse Pegasus.

5. Telephus, Prince of Mysia, wounded by Achilles and afterwards
cured by the rust from the spear which had pierced him. The circum-
stances under which he appeared clothed in rags are not known to us,



16 ARISTOPHANES.

I want a number of other things. Do give me a
wicker lamp-shade with a hole burnt in it.”

&. . “Know, fellow, that you bore me, and depart.”
Hon. “Once more I ask—a cup with broken lip.”
&. “Take it and perish, trouble of my house!”
Hon. “And yet again a pitcher plugged with sponge.”
&. “Fellow, you rob me of my work; and yet

I give it— go!”
flon. “Oh! yet once more I beg

One thing which lacking I am all undone;

O dearest, sweetest singer, may the gods

Destroy me, if I ask but one thing more,

One only, single, solitary boon,

A plant of chevril from your mother’s store.”!

&. “The man insults us; close the palace doors.”

Thus clad, and laying his head on the chopping-

- block, to be ready, if he failed to make out his case,

for instant execution, Honesty proceeded to defend
himself.

“You blame me for making peace,” — this was the
substance of his argument, — “but what was the war
about? Why, the most trumpery thing in the world!
A girl is kidnapped from our neighbours of Megara.
Our neighbours kidnap two girls from us, and the
mighty Pericles, forsooth, must bring out his thunder
and lightning, for all the world like Olympian Zeus,
till all Greece was in a turmoil. Then came his
decree, short and sharp: ‘No one from Megara shall

1 Aristophanes is never weary of joking about the low extraction of
Euripides’s mother. It was said that she had sold vegetables.



THE ACHARNIANS. 17

have any trade with Athens.’ Our neighbours, being
half starved, go to the Spartans and ask them to
intercede. The Spartans beg us to repeal these
decrees. Once, twice, thrice they ask, and we refuse.
Then they go to war. But say, were these poor
people so very wrong after all? Suppose the Spar-
tans had manned a boat, and stolen a puppy-dog
from one of the islands, would you have sat quietly
down under the insult? Not so; you would have
launched three hundred ships, and all the city would
have been in an uproar with troops marching and
crews clamouring for pay and rations, and we should
have had newly gilt statues of the goddess carried
about the street, and wineskins, and strings of onions
and garlic in nets, and singing girls, and bloody
noses. No, no; they only did just what we should
have done.”

Honesty’s eloquence converted half his enemies;
the other half called the darling of the war party,
General Dobattle, to their aid. He came at once, in
full armour, wearing a helmet with an enormously
large crest, and declaiming in pompous tones,

“Whence falls this sound of battle on mine ear?
Who needs my help? The great Dobattle’s here!
Whose summons bids me to the field repair?

Who wakes my slumbering Gorgon from her lair?”

“Dear me!” cried Honesty, pretending to be
frightened ; “what an awful plume! What kind of







‘18 ARISTOPHANES.
bird does it come from? A white-feathered boastard
[bustard] by chance?”
Dobattle. “ Fellow, thou diest!”
Hon. “You re not the man to do it.” ;

Dobat. “ Do you know you’re ‘speaking to a gene-
ral, you beggar?”

Eon, © Beggar! Beggar in your teeth! You a
general! Only one-of the cram hisspay 3 sort!”

Dobat. “1 was duly elected.” ’

Fon, “Elected! yes, by half a’ dozen’ cuckoos. I
am sick of the whole business; white-haired: men
serving in the ranks, and you and your young sprigs
of nobility off on an embassy to Thrace or Sicily or °
heaven knows where! — but always drawing pay.”

Dobat. “We were duly elected.”

fTon. “But why is it always you, and never honest
fellows such as he? Here, Coaldust, did you ever.
goonanembassy? He shakes his head. And yet
he would have done admirably for it. Or you, Heart-
of-Oak? Or you, Bend-in-the-Shoulders? No, you

“see, not one of them.”

Dobat. “O sovereign Pe shall I bear such
wrong?”

ffon. “ All things are borne, so Dobattle is paid.”

On this Dobattle marched off, finding that he could
make nothing of his antagonist. ‘Hereby I pro-
claim,” he said, as he departed, “that I will harass
the men of the Peloponnesus night and day.”

“And I,” said Honesty, “hereby proclaim that I







THE ACHARNIANS. 19

open a market for the men of the Peloponnesus and
their allies, and that they may come and buy and sell
with me, but not with General Dobattle.”

The other half of the charcoal-burners now pro-
claimed their conversion, and Honesty, encouraged
by their support, set about marking out the boun-
daries of his market, appointed constables to see that
the regulations were observed, and set up in the midst
a pillar with the terms of the treaty engraved upon it.

The first dealer that presented himself was one of
the neighbours from Megara. The poor fellow had
got nothing to sell but his two little girls; still he
was delighted to see an Athenian market again.

“Market of Athens, hail! For as a child
Longs for its mother, have I longed for thee!”

Then he turned to the children: “ But you, the
luckless children of a luckless sire, what is to be dené
with you? Would you sooner be sold or starve at
home?” @

“Sell us, sell us, dear papa!” cried the two in
chorus.

“Yes; but who will buy you? It would be a.
sheer loss. Hold! I have an idea. Put these pet-
_ titoes on and these little snouts, and mind you grunt
and whine and kick about like pigs. If you don’t, I
shall have to carry you back home, and you will be
worse starved than ever.— Mr. Honesty, do you
want to buy some pigs?”



20. ARISTOPHANES.

Fon. “What? Who is this? A man from Me-
gara?”’

. Megarian. “Yes; I have come to market.”

ffon. “ And how are you getting on?”

Megar. “ As hungry as thunder.”

Hon. “And your government? What is that
doing?”

Megar. “ Doing its best to ruin us.”

fon. “Well, what have you got in your sack
there? Salt?”

Megar. “Salt? How could it be salt, when you
have got all our salt-pans?””

ffon. “ Garlic, then?”

Megar. “Garlic indeed! How could it be garlic
when you came and dug up the very roots, like so
many field-mice ?”

ffon, “ What is it, then?”

Megar. “Pigs, pigs for sacrifice.”

Flon. “Oh! indeed.”

Megar. “Yes, pigs. Don’t you hear them squeak?”
(Aside) “ Squeak, you little wretches, or it will be the
worse for you.”

_ “Wee, wee,” squeaked the two daughters.

Ffon. “Can they feed without their mother?”

Megar. “1 should think they could, and without
their father either.”

fon. “What do you want for them?” after some
more chaffering.

Megar. “This I will sell for a rope of onions, and.
the other for a bushel of salt.”



THE ACHARNIANS, : 21

Ffon, “Very good; I’lltake them. Stand there a
moment.” —

“That’s good business,” said the man to himself.
“T only wish I could sell my wife and mother at the
same rate.” i

At this point one of the informers, who made a
living out of denouncing contraband goods, made his
appearance. “Who are you?” he said to the man
from Megara.

“A man of Megara, come to sell pigs,’ was the
answer.

“TY denounce you and your goods as contraband of
war. Here, hand them over.”

“Mr. Honesty, Mr. Honesty,” screamed the man,
“T am being denounced!”

“Constable,” said Honesty, “put the fellow out;
no informers are allowed in this market. And here,
my good friend, is the garlic and the salt. And now
farewell.”

“Farewell indeed,” said the poor man; “ but it is
not our way in Megara to fare well.”

A dealer from Beeotia was the next to come. The
man had a heavy basket on his back, and was fol-
lowed by slaves similarly burdened. “That’s a pretty
load,” he said, as he put the basket on the ground.
“ And now, my friend, what will you buy?”

“What have you got?”

“Got? Why, everything, as a body may say; all
the good things of Thebes, — marjoram, penny-royal,



22 ARISTOPHANES.

rush-mats, lamp-wicks, ducks, jackdaws, partridges,
coots, sandpipers, divers.”

“Why, you are like a north wind in winter, with
all the birds you bring.”

“Yes, and I’ve got geese, and hares, and foxes,
and moles, and hedgehogs, and weasels, and moun-
tain cats, and—what do you think?—eels from
Copais!” roy }

“What! Eels? Let me see the eels.”

The Boeotian held out a fine eel in his hand, and
addressed it with profound respect : —

“First-born of fifty daughters of the lake,
Come forth and greet the stranger.”

The Athenian answered in a similar strain : —

“O my child,
O long regretted and recovered late,
Welcome, thrice welcome! Hark ye there, my man. .
Prepare the stove, the bellows, and behold,
At last behold her here, the best of eels,
Loveliest and best, after six weary years
Returned to bless us. Bear her gently in.
O eel, so fair thou art, that e’en in death
Still would I fain possess thee — stewed with beet!”

Beotian. “Yes, very good; but what are you
going to give me for her?”

Hon, “Oh! I take this as a sort of perquisite; but
if you have anything else for sale I shall be glad to
buy.”



THE ACHARNIANS, 23

Beot, “ Everything is for sale.”
_ fon. “Well, what do you say for the lot? | I sup-
pose you won’t mind taking a return cargo ?”

Beot. “Certainly not; but what is there that you
have in Athens and we haven’t: got in Boeotia?” |

fZou. “ Anchovies? » Crockery?”
_ Beot. “Anchovies and crockery wi we have i in plenty.
But surely there is something that you have, and we
have not!”

ffon. “Ah! T have it. Ho there! oBrae out the
informer ; pack him as so much crockery.”

Beot. “Excellent! excellent! Ishould make ever so
much money by exhibiting him as a mischievous ape.”

fTon. pee there; there is another of the same
kind coming.” pre
- Beot. “He is very small.”

fon. “Yes, but very bad.”

Informer the second came in. “What goods are
these,” he said. cor

“Mine,” replied the Boeotian. ‘We be come from
Thebes.” :

Informer. “Then I denounce them. They come
from the enemy’s country.”

Beot, “What! denounce the birds and beasts?
What harm have they done?”

Inf. “Yes, and I denounce you, too.”

Baot. “Me! What have you to say against me?”

‘nf. “Just to satisfy the bystanders I will explain.
You have brought in lamp-wicks. That means a
plot to burn the arsenal,”



24 ARIST OPHANES.,

Honesty interrupted at this point. “What in the
world do you mean? Burn the arsenal with the
wick of a lamp!”

Lnf. “ Certainly.”

Hon. “But how?”

Lnf. “Listen! This Boeotian rascal would catch a
water-spider, fasten the wick on its back, wait for a
strong north wind, light the wick, and send the
spider with it into the harbour. Let the fire once
catch a single vessel, and the whole place would be
in a blaze.”

“Stop his mouth!” cried Honesty. “Tie a hay-
band round him, and send him off.”

The charcoal-burners, by this time thoroughly con-
verted to peace views, were so delighted that they
burst out into song.

“To preserve him safe and sound,
You must have him fairly bound
With a cordage nicely wound,

Up and down and round and round;
Securely packed.”

Honesty took up the strain : —

“T shall have a special care;
He’s a piece of paltry ware;
As you strike him here or there, [strikes him]
Don’t you hear his cries declare
That he’s partly cracked?”
C.-b. “How, then, is he fit for use?”
fon. “ As a stove-jar for abuse,
Plots and lies he cooks and brews,
Slander and seditious news.”



THE ACHARNIANS. 25

C.-b. “Have you stowed him safe enough?”
Hfon. “Never fear; he’s hearty stuff;
Fit for usage hard and rough,
Fit to beat, and fit to cuff,
To toss and fling, =
You can hang him up or down,
By: the heels or by the crown.”

The Beeotian bade one of his servants take the
package on his back and march off with it.

“Well,” said Honesty, looking after the party,
“‘you’ve got a queer piece of goods with you; if you
do make anything of him, you will be the first person
that ever got anything good out of an informer.”

A slave now appeared with a message: “ General
Dobattle sends five shillings, and wishes to buy a
dish of quails and a good-sized eel from Copais.”

Hon. “General Dobattle! And who, pray, is
General Dobattle ?”

Messenger. “The fierce and hardy warrior; he that wields
The Gorgon shield and waves the triple plume.”

fTon. “Let him wave his triple plume over a mess
of salt fish; quite good enough for him.”

By this time it was noised about that Honesty had
got some of that precious commodity, peace, and he
was overwhelmed with applications for it. A coun-
tryman came in groaning and lamenting.

“What's all this about?” asked Honesty.

“Oh, my dear friend,” said the man, “just a little
drop of peace.”



26° ARISTOPHANES.

Ffon. ‘‘What’s the matter?” :

Countryman. “Ym ruined, I’m ruined! The Beeo-
tians came down this morning and carried off my
pair of plough oxen. They were all my living.”

The lucky possessor would not part with a drop.
The only petitioner that succeeded was a bridesmaid
whom the bride had sent with a little bottle. “She
wanted,” she said, “just a little drop to keep her hus-
band at home.” Mr. Honesty was willing to oblige
a lady, and sent her away with the bottle full, ex-
plaining that the bride must use it the next time there
was a ballot for recruits.

Meanwhile, General. Dobattle had come in person
to try whether he could not succeed better than his
messenger. But before he could open his mouth, a
despatch from the War Office arrived. “You are
hereby directed to muster your men, and march to
the mountain passes. There you must ambush in the
snow, information having been received that a ma-
rauding party is coming from the Boeotian frontier.”

Hardly had he read the despatch when a message
came for Honesty. It was to this effect: “You are
hereby requested to come with all your belongings to
the temple of Bacchus. The company are waiting
for you, and everything is ready, — plum cake and
plain, confectionery, fruits preserved and _ fresh,
savouries and sweets, flowers and perfumes.” And
now began a bustle of preparation on either side.

The General, Quick with my knapsack!”



THE ACHARNIANS. a7

Ffon. “ Quick with my dinner and wine!”

Gen. “ Give me.a bunch of leeks.”

ffon, “Veal cutlets for me.”

Gen. “ Let me see the salt fish. It does not smell
good.”

Hon. “ How fresh this mullet is! Cook it on the
spot.”

Gen. “Bring me the lofty feather of my crest.”

ffon. “Bring doves and quails ; I scarce know which is

best.”

Gen. “ Behold this snowy plume of dazzling white !”
ffon. “Behold this roasted dove, a savoury sight!”

This was past all bearing, and the General at:
tempted to draw his sword, but found it rusted to the
scabbard. On the other hand, Honesty was going to
defend himself with the spit, but had first to disen-
gage it from the roast meat. However, they didn’t
come to blows. . The General contented himself with.
_a threat: “ Pour oil upon the shield. What do I see
in it? “An old man frightened to death because he
_ is going to be tried for cowardice.” vs

. “Ah!” said Honesty, “pour honey on the secure
What do I see in it? A jolly old fellow, who tells
the Dobattles and the Gorgons to go and hang them-
selves.” .

The General marched off to the frontier, while
. Honesty:went to the feast, the charcoal-burners
bidding the two rivals farewell in the following
stave :—



“28 ARISTOPHANES.

“Go your ways in sundry wise,
Each upon his enterprise.
One determined to carouse,
With a garland on his brows;
T’other bound to pass the night
In a military plight
Undelighted and alone;
Starving, wheezing,
Sneezing, breezing,
With his head upon a stone.”

After a while a message arrived from the seat of
war. He said :—

“Slaves of Dobattle, make the water hot;
Make embrocations and emollients ready,
And bandages and plasters for your Lord;
His foot is‘ maimed and crippled with a stake,
Which pierced it as he leapt across a ditch;
His ankle-bone is out, his head is broken,
The Gorgon on his shield is smashed and spoilt;
The cock’s plume on his helmet soiled with dirt.”

Immediately afterwards the General himself ap-
peared in the sorriest plight, and at the same time
Honesty, who had won the prize at the feast by fin-
ishing a gallon of wine, came in supported by his
companions.

Dobat. “Strip off th’ encumbrance of this warlike gear
And take me to my bed.”

fTon. “And for me,
My bed, I take it, is the fittest place.”



THE ACHARNIANS. 29

Dobat. “O bear me to the public hospital!”

ffon. “Where is the ruler of the feast? The prize
Is mine, this empty gallon testifies.”

C.-6. “Then take the wineskin as your due:
We triumph and ryoice with you.”



Ii.
THE KNIGHTS.

The campaign which followed the production of the Acharnians
greatly encouraged the war party, and dashed the hopes of the advo-
cates of peace. The most important victory of the year is referred to
in the story about to be told, and must be briefly described. As the
result of a series of operations, which it is needless to relate in detail,
a body of four hundred and twenty Spartan soldiers were blockaded in
Sphacteria, an island close to Pylos on the western coast of the Pelopon-
nesus (near the modern Navarino). For some time the siege dragged
on, the Athenian generals seeming unable to bring it to a successful
issue. The demagogue, Cleon, censured their incompetency in the
Assembly at Athens, and declared that were he in command, he would ©
bring the Spartans to Athens within a few days. He was taken at his
word, almost compelled to go, and, strange to say, whether from trick,
skill, or the audacity of ignorance, accomplished his task. Such a dis-
aster had never before happened to Sparta. The men whose lives were
in danger were a considerable part of the fighting power of the state.
The Spartan authorities at once asked for an armistice, and to secure it
consented to hand over their fleet to the Athenian admiral in command
on the spot. This done, they sent an embassy to Athens and opened
negotiations for peace, offering most favourable terms, all, in fact, that
could reasonably have been expected. These, however, were rejected,
and the war went on. Aristophanes exhibited the play of the nights
(so called from the chorus, which was supposed to consist of the “ Gen-
tlemen” of Athens, a class next to the wealthiest). We are told that_
Cleon was at this time so powerful and so much dreaded that the peo-
ple who manufactured masks for the theatre refused to make one that
would represent the demagogue’s features. Aristophanes, who acted
the character himself, possibly because he could not find an actor will-
ing to undertake it, had to “make up” for the part by smearing his
face with the lees of wine.

3go



THE KNIGHTS. 31

It is only fair to say that a view of ‘Cleon’s character and policy very
different from that which we get from Aristophanes, and, it may be
added, from Thucydides, may be found in some modern writers, notably
in Mr. Grote and Sir George Cox. (“Greek Statesmen,” second
series. ) 4

“It should be explained that there are five characters in the story:
1, Demos (people), who is represented as a selfish old man, of a very
uncertain and fickle temper, very hard on old servants who have done
well for him for years, and taking up with new favourites who humour
his caprices and minister to his appetites. The original of this is the
Athenian people.

2 and 3. Two old servants whom I call Victor and Hearty. They are
now out of favour with their master, thanks to the interference of a new-
comer, Bluster (or the Tanner), and look about for some means of get-
ting rid of their oppressor. The originals are two well-known Athenian
soldiers and statesmen, Nicias (#é#é—victory) and Demosthenes
(sthenos — strength, and demos—the people). These names nowhere
occur in the play, but the characters were doubtless recognized at once
by the resemblance of their masks to the features of the originals. -

4. Bluster (or the Tanner) = Cleon,

5. The Sausage-seller, destined to be Demos’s new favourite,

A body of “ Knights” or “ Gentlemen ” is present, and takes the part
of Bluster’s enemies.

“WHAT a scandal and a shame it is!” cried Hearty,
coming out of Demos’s house, followed by Victor ;
“ever since Master brought home that scoundrel
Bluster, not a day passes without his thrashing us
unmercifully ; confound him, I say!”

“And I say so, too,” cried Victor, rubbing his
arms and shoulders.

Hearty. “Well, it is no good cursing and crying.
We must do something. What do you propose ?”’

Victor, Can’t you propose something yourself ?”

ff, “No, no! TI look to you.”



"32 ARISTOPHANES.

a “Well, I have thought of earrees Say‘ run.’
“Very good. IT say it: a

- “ Now say ‘away.’”

“ Quite so: ‘away.’ ”

V “Now both together very quick: first ‘run,’
then ‘away.’”’

Hf. “Here you have it: ‘run away.’ ”

_V. “Well, doesn’t that sound sweet?”

ff, “T-don’t know. -I seem to hear the crack of a
whip somewhere about.”

2 “Then we must think of something else.”’

“Shall I tell the state of things to our friends
an ?” pointing to a little crowd of people that had
gathered round.!

V. “You could not do. better.”

Hf, “Listen, then, my good friends. We have a
master at home here, a rough, passionate old gentle-
man, and just a little deaf. The first of last month
he bought a new slave, Bluster by. name, who had .
worked in a tanner’s yard. A more wicked, lying
fellow there never was. Well, he got to know our
master’s ways, and flattered and wheedled him with
this kind of thing —‘ You'll take a bath, sir; you’ve
done business enough for one day, and here’s a little
trifle of money that has just come in for you,’?.and,
‘Can I serve .you with anything, sir?’ And as sure

« 1In the play Hearty addresses the spectators. :
2 Lit. “Take your three odo/s.” This was the sum which an Athe-

nian citizen received for acting as a juror. _The custom was introduced
by Pericles, :



N hy
\



BLUSTER’s Way.



THE KNIGHTS. 33

as, any one of us got something nice ready for the old
gentleman, he would lay hands on it and give it to
him. Why, this very morning I had made some
Spartan pudding,! and he comes in the most rascally
way and carries it off, and serves it tip as his own.
Yes, the pudding that I had made. He won’t let one
of us go near the old gentleman, but stands behind
him with a great flap of his own leather, and keeps
us all off like so many flies. Then he tells lies about
us and we get flogged. Or he goes round among us
and blackmails us. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘what a
beating Barker got the other day. It was all through
me; and if you don’t make it worth my while you'll
catch it ten times worse.’ If we say no, then old
Demos knocks us down and tramples on us till we
haven’t any breath left in us. That’s about the
state of things —isn’t it?” he went on, turning to
Victor. ‘The question is— what are we to do?”

V. “TI see nothing so good as the runaway trick.”

ff, “Run away! It is impossible. The fellow
has his eyes everywhere.”

V. “Then there is nothing left for it but to die.
Only we must die like men.”

HT, “Well, what is your idea?”

V. “JT think that we should drink bull’s blood.
We can’t do better than follow Themistocles.”

#7, “Bull’s blood indeed! the blood of the grape,
I say! Then we might have some happy inspiration.”

1 See Introduction.



34 ARISTOPHANES.

V. “What? Do you think getting tipsy will help
us?” . aes)

HT, “Yes, I do, you poor water-pitcher. Do you
mean to doubt the inspiration of wine? Where can
you find anything more potent? Is there anything
that men can’t do when they are drunk? Wealth,
prosperity, good luck, helping their friends, every-
thing is easy to them. Bring me a pitcher of wine.
Pll moisten my understanding till the inspiration
comes.”

V. “You'll ruin us with your drink.”

ff, “Ruin you! Nothing of the kind. Off with
you and bring the wine.”

Victor ran off and in a few minutes reappeared
carrying a pitcher of wine. “Well!” he said, “it
was lucky that I got it without any one seeing.”

HT, “Tell me, what was Bluster doing ?”

V. “He had gorged himself with half-digested
confiscations, and was lying fast asleep and snoring

“on a heap of his own hides.”

Hearty went on drinking and thinking. At last

he started up, crying : —

“Thine is the thought, good Genius, not mine own.”

V. “What is it?”

ff. “That you go and steal the prophecies that
Bluster keeps indoors.”

This was not really to Victor’s liking. However,
he went, and came back with them. One he knew



THE KNIGHTS. 35

to be especially precious. Bluster, he explained, had
been so fast asleep that he knew nothing of what
was being done. Hearty took the writing and looked
at it and asked for another cup of wine. ‘ Well,”
said his companion after a pause, “what says the
prophecy?”

ff, “ Another cup.”

V. “Does it say ‘another cup’?”

ff, “O Bacis!”}

V. “What is it?”

ff.. “ Quick with the cup!”

V. “Bacis seems to have been very fond of cups.”

AZ. “O scoundrel of a Bluster! I don’t wonder you
kept this prophecy so close, for it shows how your
fall will be brought about.”

V. “Quick, tell me — what does it say?”

ff. “It says that it is ordained that first of alla ~
hemp-jobber shall rule the city.”

V. “That’s jobber number one. Go on.”

Ai, “After him a calves-jobber.” -

V. “Jobber number two. But what is to happen
to him?”

Hi. “Heis to prosper till a greater. scoundrel than
he shall come, a daring, thieving rascal, a tanner by
- trade, and Bluster by name.”

V. “And what of him? Is there another jobber
to come?”

1 Bacis was a well-known author of prophecies, the Nostradamus or
Mother Shipton of those days.



36 _ ARISTOPHANES.

“Yes; one with a noble business.”
“What is it?”
“Must I tell you?”
“ Certainly.”

H. “Then listen. A sausage-seller shall drive out
the man of hides.”

V. “A sausage-seller! Good heavens! what a
trade! where are we to find him?”

H. “We must look for him. And, as I am alive,
there he comes just in the nick of time.

*

SN

“ Blest sausage-seller, best and dearest, come,
Saviour of Athens, saviour of thy friends!”

The sausage-seller, greatly astonished at this ad-
dress, wanted to know what was meant, and was told
to put down his tray and then kiss the earth, and
make a reverence to the gods. Again he asked what
they wanted, and was again addressed with profound
respect : —

“Thrice happy child of wealth, little to-day,

To-morrow growing great beyond compare,
Of Athens, dear to heaven, lord and chief.”

Sausage-seller. “Come, come, don’t make game of
me; let me wash my paunches and sell my sausages.”

H. “Paunches indeed, and sausages! Look here.
Do you see these crowds of people?”

Ss. “Yes, I see ’em.”

H. “Well, you'll be their lord and master. Every-
thing — Assembly, Senate, admirals, generals — will
be under your heel.”



THE KNIGHTS. ay)

Sis. “What? my heel?”

Al. “Yes; and that is not all. Get up on this
stall and look at the islands.” P

The sausage-seller climbed on to the stall, which
was supposed to command a view of the islands in
the Aégean Sea, tributary to Athens, as members of
the Delian Confederacy.1 “Yes, I see them,” he said.

fT, “You see their ports and their merchant ves-
sels?”

Sis. “Yes.”

ff. “And are you not a lucky man? Now look
a little further; look at Asia with your right eye,
and Carthage with your left.”

S.-s. “TI don’t see much happiness in aaron

ff, “ All me is yours to buy and sell. So the
prophecy says.” -

S.-s. “What! mine, and I a sausage-seller?”

Hf. “That’s the very thing that makes your title,
because you are a low-bred, vulgar, impudent fellow.”

S.-s. “I don’t see how I am fit for such a big
thing.”

Ff. “Not fit! What do you mean? I am afraid
that you have something good on your conscience.
Are you by any chance a gentleman by birth?”

1The Delian Confederacy was originally a league of Greek states,
especially of the islands in the Augean, formed after the Persian war to
make a combined resistance to any future attack from the Persians.
By degrees it became an Athenian empire. Many of the islands pre-
ferred making a money payment to furnishing ships and crews, They
thus became entirely dependent on Athens.



38 ARISTOPHANES.

S.s. “A gentleman? Bless me, no. I am come
of as poor a lot as any in the town.”

ff, “What luck! You could not have started
better.”

Ss. “But Pve got no education; just a little
writing, and that very bad.”

Hf. “Well, that’s against you, that you can write
at all. Greatness here, you must understand, is not
for educated, respectable people. Dunces and black-
guards get it. So don’t you let the chance slip.
Now listen to the prophecy : —

“Whene’er the eagle in his pride,
With crooked claws and leathern hide,
Shall seize the black, blood-eating snake,
Then shall great Bluster’s tan-pits quake;
And Zeus shall give high rule and place
To men of sausage-selling race,
Unless, perchance, it please them more
To sell the sausage as before.

Do you understand all this? No? Well, listen:
the leathern eagle is Bluster. His claws are his way
of pouncing on people’s money. The snake, of
course, is a black pudding. Snakes are long and
black, so are black puddings; snakes are full of
blood, so are black puddings. There’s a prophecy
for you!” ,

S.-s. “Yes, it sounds fine. But how shall I be
able to manage the people?”

Hl. “Manage the people? The easiest thing in



THE KNIGHTS. 39

the world. Do just as you have been doing. Mangle
and mash everything. Flavour and spice to suit the
people's taste. You have got every qualification for a
demagogue. You have a vile voice, you are low-
born, you are ill-bred. Absolutely nothing is want-
ing, and here are the prophecies fitting in. So make
your prayer to the god of Boobydom, and tackle the
fellow.”

S.-s. “Yes; but who will be on my side? The rich
are afraid of him, and as for the poor, they shake
in their shoes.” ,

ff, “Who will be on your side? Why, a thousand
gentlemen of Athens who scorn and detest him, aye,
and every honest man in the city.”

At this point there was a terrified cry from behind,
“He’s coming! he’s coming!” and Bluster rushed
out of the house, vowing vengeance against every-
body. The sausage-seller was about to take to his
heels, when Hearty entreated him to stand firm, as
his friends were at hand. The next moment the
promised host of gentlemen appeared on the scene,
and gaining confidence by their support, the sausage-
seller came forward and confronted his adversary.
A fierce contest followed, in which each combatant
sought to overpower his adversary with abuse. and
threats.

Bluster. “I charge this man with treason. He
sells sausages to the Peloponnesian fleet.”

S.s. “I charge this man with worse than that.



40 ARISTOPHANES.

He runs into the Town Hall with his belly empty,
and runs out with it full.”

B. “Dog and villain, you shall die.”

SiS. “TI can scream ten times as high.”

B. “Tl o’erbear you and out-bawl you.”
Sins. “Tl out-scream you and out-squall you.”
B. “Stare at me without a wink.”

Sis. “Never do I blush or blink.”

B. “T can steal and own to stealing;

That’s a thing I know you dare not.”
Si-5. “That is nothing; when I’m dealing,

I can swear to things that are not,

And, though hundreds saw, I care not.”

Bluster was still unconvinced that he had found his
match and more; and the sausage-seller related for
the encouragement of his backers incidents in his
bringing up which fully justified their hopes. “It is
not for nothing,” he said, “that ever since I was a
child I have been cuffed and beaten, that I have
been fed on scraps, and yet grown to the big crea-
ture that I am. Oh! I used to play rare tricks.
I would say to a cook, ‘See, there’s a swallow, the
spring is coming,’ and when he looked away I stole
a bit of his meat. Mostly I got clear off; but in
case any one saw me, I swore that I had never taken
it. I remember a great politician in those days, who
saw me do it, saying, ‘ This child will be a great man
with the people some day.’”

After another fierce encounter of words, the two
fell to: blows, Bluster getting the worst of it, espe-



THE KNIGHTS. 4I

cially when they closed, and the sausage-seller tripped
him by a specially nasty trick. Enraged at being
thus worsted, he rushed off to the Senate, threatening
informations, charges of treason, and other dreadful
things.

“He’s gone to the Senate,” said the sausage-
seller’s backers to him. ‘“ Now’s your time to show
your mettle, if you are the mighty thief and liar that
you pretend to be.”

“Tm after him,” said the fellow, and off he went,
having been duly rubbed with grease to make him
slippery, and primed with garlic, like a fighting-cock,
to give him courage. Before very long he was back,
and told his backers, who had been getting a little
anxious about him, the story of how he had fared.

“T followed him,” he said, “close upon his heels
to the Senate House. There he was storming and
roaring, bellowing out words like thunderbolts, raving
against the aristocrats, calling them traitors and what
not, and the Senate sat listening, looking sharp as
mustard. And when I saw they took in all his lies,
and how he was cheating them, I muttered a prayer,
‘Hear me, Powers of Fraud, and Boobydom, and ye
Spirits of the Market and the Street, the places
where I was bred, and thou, great Impudence, hear
me, and help, giving me courage, and a ready tongue,
and a shameless voice.’ And when I had ended
my prayer, I took courage, for I knew that the Great
Spirits had heard me, and cried aloud, ‘O Senators,



42 ARISTOPHANES.

I have come with good news, for I was resolved that
none should hear them before you. Never since the
war broke upon us, no, never have I seen anchovies
cheaper.’. Their faces changed in a moment; it
was like a calm after a storm. Then I moved that
they should lay hands on all the bowls in the town,
and go to buy the anchovies before the price went
up. At that they shouted and clapped their hands.
Then Bluster, seeing what a hit I had made, and
knowing of old how to deal with them, said, ‘I pro-
pose, gentlemen, that in consideration of the happy
event that has been reported to the Senate, we have
a good-news sacrifice to the goddess of a hundred
oxen.’ That took the Senate, you may be sure.
Well, I wasn’t going to be outdone with his oxen;
so I bid over him. ‘I propose,’ I said, ‘that the
sacrifice be of two hundred oxen! And furthermore,
that we sacrifice a thousand goats to Artemis, if
sprats should be fifty a penny.’ That brought the
Senate round to me again. And when he saw it he
lost his head, and began to stammer out some non-
sense, till the archers dragged him away. And what
did he, when the Senators were just off after their
anchovies, but try to keep them. ‘Stop a moment,
gentlemen,’ he said, ‘to hear what the herald from
Sparta has got to say; he has come about peace.’
‘Peace!’ they all cried with one voice (that’s be-
cause they knew that anchovies were cheap), ‘we
don’t want peace; let the war go on.’ Then they



THE KNIGHTS. 43

bellowed to the magistrate to dismiss the Senate, and
leapt over the railings. But meanwhile I got down
to the market and bought up all the fennel, and gave
it to them for sauce, when they were at their wits’
end where to find any. How much they'made of
me, to be sure! I bought the whole Senate, you
may believe me, for three ha’porth of fennel!”

His backers, delighted at the story, greeted him
with a song of triumph: —

“You have managed our task on an excellent plan,

You certainly are a most fortunate man;

Soon the villain shall meet

A more excellent cheat,

Of devices more various,

Of tricks more nefarious.
But gird up your loins for another endeavour,
And be sure you will find us as faithful as ever.”

And, indeed, the man had need of all his courage ;
for the next moment Bluster arrived, furious at his
defeat, and swelling, as his adversaries said, like a
wave of the sea. “Ah!” he cried, “you contrived
to get the better of me in the Senate; but come
along to the Assembly, and you shall see. — Pray come
‘out, my dear Demos,” he went on, for they were just
in front of Demos’s house; “pray come out for a
moment.” The sausage-seller joined in, “Yes, father,
come out by all means.” — “Come, dearest Demos,”
said Bluster, “come and see how they are insulting
me.”



44 ARISTOPHANES.

The old man bounced out inarage. “ What is all
this noise about? Get away with you! See what a
disturbance you have made. Well, Bluster, who has
been hurting you?”

B. “This eCno with his young iseas has been
beating me.’ ,

D. “And why?”

B. “Only because I love you.”

D. (turning to the sausage-seller), “ And who are
you, sir?”

S.-s. “One who loves you far better than this fel-
low. Aye, that I do, and so do other good men and
true; only, unhappily, you won’t have anything to.do
with them, but give yourself up to lamp-sellers, and
cobblers, and tanners, and such low folk.”

B. “But I have done Demos good service.”

S.-s. “How, pray?”

B. “Did I not sail to Pylos, and come back bring-
ing my Spartan prisoners?”

Sis. “Yes; and I, on my walks the other day,
saw a dish of meat that somebody else had cooked,
and filched it.”

B. “Well, Demos, call an assembly, and settle
which is your best friend.”

S.-s. “Settle it by all means, but not in the Pnyx.”!

D. “T can’t sit anywhere else.”

S.-s. “Then Iam a lost man. The old gentleman
is sensible enough at home; but once let him settle

1The Pnyx was the place of Assembly at Athens.



THE KNIGHTS. - 4S

himself on those stone seats,‘and he takes leave of
his senses.”

However, his friends encouraged him; he plucked
up spirit, and, when Demos had taken his seat in the
Pnyx, boldly confronted his rival. ‘“ Demos,” began
Bluster, ‘ now listen to me :—

“If I should despise you, or ever advise you
Against what is best for your comfort and rest,
Or neglect to attend you, defend you, befriend you,
May I perish and pine; may'this carcase of mine
Be withered and dried, and curried beside,
And straps for your harness cut out from the hide.”

The sausage-seller was not behindhand. “Listen
to me,” he said : —

“O Demos, if I tell one word of a lie,
If any man more can dote or adore,
With so tender a care, then ] make it my prayer,
My prayer and my wish to be stewed in a dish,
To be sliced and be slashed, to be minced and be hashed,
And like offal remains that are left by the cook,
To the place of the dead be dragged off on a hook.”

B. “Demos, had you ever a better friend than I
have been? Haven't I piled up heaps of money in
your treasury, torturing and squeezing and threaten-
ing, caring nothing for any man, as long as I could
do you a good turn?”

S.-s. “There is nothing wonderful about that. I
can do all that for you. I can filch another man’s
loaves and serve them up at your table. But I have



46 ARIS1 OPHANES.

something better for you than that. Is it not a fact
that you, who fought the Persians at Marathon and
conquered them so gloriously, have been sitting here
ever since with nothing between you and the hard
stone? Look at this cushion that I. have stitched
together for you. Get up, my dear sir; and now will
you sit down again? Never again will you have to
rub what you made so sore at Salamis.”

D. “My dear sir, who are you? One of the fam-
ily of Harmodius I fancy. I never saw a more
truly patriotic thing.”

BL. “Well, that is a PED ELY. little thing to make
so much of.”

S..s. “I dare say; but you have trapped him with
baits five times smaller.”

B. “Now, Ill wager my life that there never was
a man who loved Demos more than J.”

S.-s. “You love him! and you have let him live
now for eight years in tubs? and crannies and turrets
on the wall! Ah! you have shut him in, like bees in
a hive, and taken his honey, too. And when the am-
bassadors brought proposals for peace, — and a very
good peace, too, — you kicked them out.”

1Harmodius and Aristogeiton, two Athenian nobles, assassinated
Hipparchus, who was one of the sons of Peisistratus, and, along with
his brother Hippias, had succeeded to his despotic power. Though ©
the assassins seem to have had no other motive than to avenge a pri-
vate wrong, their memory was always honoured in Athens, as if they
had acted from the purest patriotism.

2The poor Athenians during the siege were driven to live in any
place where they could find shelter,



THE KNIGHTS. 47

B. “And quite right, too. It has all been done to
make him lord of Greece; for what do the enn
cies say? Listen: —

“Tf he still perseveres, for a period of years,
He shall sit in Arcadia, judging away,
In splendour and honour, for fivepence a day.”

S.-s. Arcadia indeed! Much you thought about
Arcadia! What you are thinking about is how to
make a purse for yourself out of the tribute, while
Demos — thanks to the dust that you kick up— can
see nothing of what is going on. But let him once
get back to his farm, and get up his courage with a
dish of porridge, and tackle an olive cake, and he
will make you pay for all your villainies.”

£. “O my dear Demos! don’t believe him. You
have never had a better friend, or a more watchful.
Haven’t I kept you up? Haven’t I watched night
and day, and discovered treasons, plots, and conspir-
acies without end?”

S.-s. “Oh, yes; we all know what you mean by
your treasons and plots. You are just like the fel-
lows that fish for eels. When the water is clear, they
catch nothing; when they stir up the mud, then they
have excellent sport. You confound everything with
your talk about treason, and, when nobody is looking,
pocket your fees and your bribes. But come; answer
me this: you with all your leather, have you ever
given him a single skin to mend his old boots with?”



48 ARISTOPHANES.

D. “That he hasn’t, I swear.”

_ Ss. “Does not that show what sort of a fellow
he is? Now, look here at this nice pair of shoes;
I bought them on purpose for you to wear.”

D. “This is the very best patriot I ever saw.”

Ss. “Look again. It’s winter now, and this fel-
low knew that you were getting on in years, and
yet he has never given youatunic. Now, see this
nice one with two sleeves! that I have bought you.”

D. “Why, this is a better thing than even The-
mistocles ever thought of; not that the Peirzeus?
wasn’t a good idea, but it wasn’t so good as this
warm tunic.”

B. (offering a leather cloak). “Take this, my dear
sir; it will keep you admirably warm.”

D. (turning up his nose). “Take it away; it smells
most abominably of hides.”

S.-s. “Of course it does; this is part of a regular
plan to choke you.”

Demos had sat awhile, buried in thought, and
weighing against each other the claims and services
of the two rival candidates for his favour. At last
he roused himself from his reverie and spoke.

“T have come to the conclusion that the sausage-
seller is the best friend that the workingman has
ever had. You, Bluster, have made great pretences,

1 Slaves wore a tunic with one sleeve only.
2The great harbour of Athens, the importance of which, for the
welfare of Athens, Themistocles was the first to see.



THE KNIGHTS. 49

and done me nothing but mischief. .-Hand me over
my ring. You shall not be my steward any longer.”

B. “Take it; take it; if you will not let me be
your steward, you will find a far worse.”

Demos took the ring and examined it. “Why,”
he said, “this is not my ring. The device is not the
same, or I have lost my eyesight.”

S.-s. “What was the device?”

D. “A steak of beef ready cooked.”

S.-s. “That is certainly not here.”

D. “Not the steak? What is it, then?”

S.-s. “Why, a conncrant standing on a rock with
his mouth wide open.” me 2 aktet <

Demos was on the point of giving the sausage-
seller another ring as the sign of his appointment,
when Bluster entreated him to wait awhile, at least
till he had heard the prophecies that he (Bluster)
had got at home referring to him. There was a
whole chestful, he declared, and they were full of
the most delightful panes. that were to eae here-
after.

The sausage-seller was not to be outdone. He
had prophecies, too, at home; a whole attic and two
flats were full of them. Bluster boasted that his
were by the famous prophet Bacis. ‘“ Mine,” retorted
the sausage-seller, “are by Bacis’s elder brother,
Glanis.” Both of them went to fetch these precious
documents, and both returned staggering under a
load. “Now,” said Demos to Bluster, “hand me

4



50 ARISTOPHANES.

that one that I like so much, of how I shall become
an eagle in the clouds.”
Bluster reads : —.

‘Son of Erectheus, mark and ponder well
This holy warning from Apollo’s cell.
He bids thee guard the sacred sharp-toothed whelp,
Who for thy sake doth bite and bark and yelp;
Guard and protect him from the chattering jay,
So shall thy juries all be kept in pay.” 4

D. “What is all this about? What is meant by
Erectheus and the dog and the jay?”

B. “I am the dog; I bark for 0 and Apollo
says:that you are to take care of me.”

Ss. “Itis nothing of the kind. I have got the
true oracle about the dog. Listen to this: —

“Son of Erectheus, ever at thy feast
Beware the dog, the greedy, filching beast.
He wags his tail, still fawning as you eat,
But when you look away he steals the meat.”

D. ‘That sounds much better, Glanis.”
B. “Listen again to this :—

1 The poorer class of Athenians depended very much on the pay of
three odo, or half a drachma (represented by fourpence farthing in
English money, if measured by weight, but actually equivalent to
more) which they received for performing the office of jurymen. The
practice of making this payment is supposed to have been begun by
Pericles, but the pay was increased by Cleon. It may be compared,
riot so much in itself, but in its political significance, to the distribution
of money and corn under the empire at Rome.



THE KNIGHTS. OBA

“In sacred Athens shall a woman dwell ;

’ There shall she bear a lion fierce and fell;
With many gnats the noble beast shall fight,
Guarding, as dam her cubs, the people’s right ;
Him must thou shelter, for the public good,
With iron bulwarks and a wall of wood.

I am the lion; Apollo commands you to take care of
me.”

D. “You the lion? Why, a moment ago you
were a dog.”

S..s. “Ah! sir, but he hides the true sense of the
prophecy of the lion and the wooden wall in which
Apollo says you are to keep him.”

D. “What is it?”

S.-s. “Of course it is the stocks; you are to keep
him in the stocks.”

D. “Good! That is a prophecy that seems very
likely to be fulfilled. But I have not heard about
the eagle yet.”

&, “Listen then :—

“Soon shalt thou soar aloft on eagle’s wings,
Acknowledged lord of earth, and king of kings.”

S.-s. “And now hear mine: —

“Earth and the Red Sea shall your rule obey,
While comfit cake you munch from day to day,
Sitting on juries in Ecbatana.”

D. “J think Glanis is a better prophet than Bacis.
But now listen, you two. Have done with your



52 ARISTOPHANES.

promises and prophecies. The man that serves me
up the best dinner I shall make manager-in-chief.
Away with you, and see what you can get for me.”
The two competitors ran off in furious haste, and
the gentlemen who had been backing the sausage-
seller took the opportunity of reproaching the old
man with his easy surrender to unworthy favourites.

“Worthy Demos, your estate
Is a glorious thing and great;
All men trembling bow them down,
As before a despot’s frown;
But you're easy of belief,
So that every rogue and thief
Finds you ready to his hand.
Flattery you can’t withstand ;
What your last advisers say
Ever will your judgment sway.”

Demos makes reply : —

“You're a fine set of sparks, but your wits are but weak ;
What you think is a folly is only a freak;
Believe me, my friends, I am not what I seem,
Iam quite wide awake, though you think that I dream ;
I pamper these thieves, but I smash them to bits
As soon as the right opportunity fits.”

The Gentlemen.

“Tf that’s what you meant, we approve your intent;
If you keep them like beasts, fattened up for your feasts,
Fed high in the stall, till occasion shall call,.
And a nice little vote puts a knife to their throat,
And your cook serves them up when you dine or you sup.”



THE KNIGHTS. 53

At this point the two competitors returned and
began their final struggle. Bluster put a chair. for
his master, but the sausage-seller outdid him by
putting a table.

B. (handing a dish). “See, here’s a pudding which
I made at Pylos.” ;

S.-s. (handing another). “Here are some cheese-
cakes which the goddess has made with her own
ivory hand.”

D. “Mighty goddess, what a big hand you have!”

B. “Here’s some pease-pudding.”

S.-s. “Here’s a fine mess of porridge.”

B. “Here’s a batter pudding, also from the
goddess.” :

‘S.-s. “ And here’s a savoury stew with sippets that
she sends you.”

B. “Taste this pancake.”

S.-s. “Try these fritters and this cup of wine.”

D, “The wine is excellent.”

S.-s. “So it should be, for she mixed it herself.”

B. “Here, I have got a slice of cake for you.”

Ss. “ And here, I have got a whole cake.”

B. (aside to the S.-s.). “Here is hare pie. When
will you get hare pie?”

S.-s. (to himself). “How shall I get hare pie. O
my soul, invent some knavish trick!”

B. “Do you see the hare pie, you poor devil?”

S.-s. “Never mind (Jretending to look away). They
are: coming to me.”

B. “Who? Who?”



54 ARIS TOPHANES.

S.s. “Some envoys with bags of silver.”

B. (looking eagerly round). “Where? Where?”

S.s. “Can’t you let the strangers alone? (Swatches
at the hare pie while Bluster is looking about him, and '
offers it to Demos.) See, my dear Demos, the hare
pie I have got for you.”

B. “Why, the villain has taken my dish.”

S.s. “Just what you did at Pylos, my friend.”

D. “Tell me, how did you think of stealing it?”

_ Svs. (piously). “The thought was born of heaven,
the theft was mine.”

B. “TI took all the trouble.”

S.-s. “But I served it up.”

D. “Who hands it gets the thanks.”

S.s. “Come now, can’t you decide, my dear sir,
who treats you best?”

D. “How am I to judge?”

Ss. “I will tell you. Look at my basket and
- gee what is in it, and then look at his. That will
decide.”

This Demos did. The sausage-seller’s was found
to be practically empty. Bluster’s had all kinds of
good things in it, especially the rest of the cake, of
which he had only served up a small slice to his
master. This roused Demos’s wrath to the utmost.
“© villain!” he cried, “and this is the way you
have been cheating me.”

B. “I stole for my country’s good.”

D. “For your country’s good indeed! Take
away his crown.”



THE KNIGATS. 55

Bluster, seeing that it was all qver with him, took
it off with a pathetic farewell : —

“Farewell, my crown, farewell! I yield thee up
‘Unwilling. Some new lord shall wear thee now,
One not more thievish but more fortunate.”?

S.-s. “O Zeus of Hellas, thine the victory!”

And now it turned out that Demos had indeed
made a most fortunate choice in his new favourite.
The sausage-seller retired with his master, and after
a short interval appeared again, crying, “Silence!
Have done with your litigation; close the courts; I
bring good news.”

&n. “Oh, glory of Athens, the holy, and help of our island
: allies,
For what happy event, thro’ our streets, shall the
steam of our sacrifice rise?”
Sis. “I have given new youth to our Demos; I have
made him all lovely and fair.”
&An. “O deviser of wondrous devices, now where may we
see him, O where?”
Sis. “Tis the Athens of old where he dwelleth, the city
, with violets crowned.”
kn. “Oh, say how arrayed, with what aspect, henceforth
shall our Demos be found?”
S.-s. “You shall see him again in his beauty, as he was
when he sat at the board
Of old with the just Aristides and Miltiades, Mara-
thon’s lord.”

1A parody on the farewell which the dying Alcestis takes of her
marriage chamber.

Farewell; another wife shall own thee now, -
Some wife not purer but more fortunate.



56 ARISTOPHANES,

And so indeed it was. The old man came forward,
changed to a handsome youth, and wearing in his
hair the old-fashioned ornament of the grasshopper,
symbol of the antiquity of the Athenian race. Nota
little ashamed was he when his new adviser reminded
him of the follies of the past; how he would listen
to any unprincipled politician that proclaimed him-
self his friend; how he would spend the public
money, not in equipping fleets, but in feeing the
jurymen. But he is resolved to be wiser in the
future. Orators who appeal to his selfish fears shall
be tossed headlong into the pit.! The seamen shall
have all their pay the very moment of their return
to port. No one whose name stands on the roll for
military service shall be permitted to evade the obli-
gation.

“And now,” said the new minister, when he had
heard all these good resolutions, “see what I have
got for you !”

And he led out the lovely figure of Peace.

“Where did you find her?” cried Demos.

“ Bluster hid her away in his house,” replied the
minister, “that you might not catch sight of her.
Take her; she is yours; and live henceforth in the
country home where you are always so happy.”

1The “barathron,” into which criminals were hurled. We may
compare the Tarpeian rock and the Tullianum at Rome,



III.
PEACE.

An interval of four years separated the production of the Acharnians
from that of the play with which I am now dealing.

The successes achieved by Athens in the years 427-5 B.C., especially
the capture of the Spartan garrison of Pylos,—an event to which fre-
quent allusions are made in the Avéghis, — were succeeded in 423 by
great disasters. The Athenians had long coveted the fertile country of
their Boeotian neighbours, a country widely different from their own
barren though picturesque and attractive land. They had once as-
serted their supremacy over it, and had maintained it for seven years,
till dispossessed by the disastrous defeat of Coronea in B.C. 440. And
now, again encouraged by a sense of immunity from invasion, — they
had threatened to put all their prisoners to death if a Spartan army
should again cross their frontiers, — they attempted to renew it. Their
hopes were again crushed. The whole military force of the city, except
a few small detachments that were serving elsewhere, was routed by
the Boeotians at Delium. Another defeat, even more serious, at least
as threatening more widely reaching consequences, followed. The
reverse at Delium did nothing more than convince the Athenians that
certain hopes which they had long entertained must be abandoned for-
ever; but the losses which were sustained in the following year in
Thrace deprived them of possessions which they had long regarded as
their own, and threatened to bring down their whole empire in -ruin,
Brasidas, probably the ablest man that Sparta ever produced, succeeded,
by a remarkable combination of military skill and attractive personal
character, in detaching from Athens some of its most important de-
pendencies on the northwest coast of the A®gean. Amphipolis and
other cities of Thrace were now in the hands of the Spartans. Athens
made a great effort to stay the tide of Spartan victory, despatching the
largest force she could raise to attempt the recapture of Amphipolis.
The effort failed totally and even disgracefully; the Athenian forces

57



58 ARISTOPHANES.,

were routed under the walls of that city, routed almost without
making a struggle.

But this disaster had its compensations. The Spartans lost but eight
killed in the battle, but among the eight was Brasidas; and Brasidas
was not only a very able soldier, but he was vehemently opposed to
peace. Among the slain on the Athenian side was Cleon, the noto-
rious leader of the war party. And now came the triumph of the peace
party in the two states. Aristophanes, conscious that he had the ma-
jority of his fellow-citizens on his side, again did his best to promote -
his favourite object. The Peace was exhibited in January, 321. About
three months afterwards peace for the period of fifty years was made,
and, a few days later, an alliance, offensive and defensive, between Sparta
and Athens was concluded. (This is known in history as the ‘ Peace
of Nicias.”)

“Now, my man,” said the steward of Trygzeus
the Athenian to one of the under-slaves, ‘“ bring
another cake for the beast.” With much grumbling
the man obeyed, and fetched first one, then another,
and then, again, several more, till the creature was
satisfied. ; ;

But what was the beast? Nothing less than an
enormously large dung-beetle which Trygeeus had
contriyed to catch, and which he kept in one of the
courts of his house, and was feeding up till it should
grow big enough and strong enough to help him in
carrying out a certain purpose of his. The fact was,
that Trygeus, like many another Athenian citizen,
was heartily sick of the war, and had got the idea
into his head that, if he could contrive to get up to
the palace of Zeus, he might persuade the god to
fulfil his wish, which was, to put it shortly, to secure
Peace, —long-banished, long-desired Peace. His first



PEACE. 59

plan was to get some very thin scaling-ladders made,
and to scramble up to heaven by means of them.
Unfortunately they. broke, and brought him down
with them to the ground. After this he got the
beetle, and proposed to fly on its back up to. the
sky.

The animal having finished its meal, Trygzeus
mounted on its back, and was preparing to start, first
giving his steed sundry cautions not to set off at too
great a pace, or to put itself out of breath. The
steward entreated his master to give up the idea,
and after vainly endeavouring forcibly to stop him,
called to the old gentleman’s daughter to come and
help him. Accordingly the girl came running out of
the house into the court-yard, where Trygzeus, who
had now risen some way from the ground, was pre-
paring to fly off. “Father,” she said, “surely it
isn’t true that you are thinking of leaving us and
going to the crows?! Tell me the truth, if you love
me
Trygeus. “Yes, it is true. The fact is, that I
can’t bear to hear you poor creatures saying to me,
‘Papa, give us some bread,’ when I haven’t got a
stiver of money in the house to buy it with. Only
let me succeed in this plan of mine, and I will give
you, not only bread, but the biggest buns that you
ever saw.”

”

1 «Going to the crows” was the Greek equivalent for our “ going
to the dogs,” as a proverbial expression for going to ruin,



60 ARIST OPHANES.

Girl. “But, deat papa, how are you going? Ships
can’t carry, you.” re

ZY. “T have got a winged horse, None of your
sea-voyages for me.”

G. “What! a beetle, papa? How can you get to
heaven on a beetle?”

T. “Tis the only living creature that ever got to
heaven; so A¢sop tells us.”

'G. “Oh, it’s past all believing, that such a nasty,
creeping creature should get so far!”

T. “Yes; but it did, when it went to break the
eagle’s eggs.” ?

G. ‘But why not mount Pegasus?”

7. “Far too expensive to feed, my dear.”

G. “Well, if you must go, take care you don’t fall
off. If you should, the fall would be sure to lame
you, and then Euripides would make you the hero of
one of his tragedies. Think of that!’’?

T. “Vl see to that. Good by, my dear.”

Finally, not without running many risks, chiefly
from the animal’s inclination to descend in search of
its favourite food, the rider reached his destination,

1 Aisop’s fable, according to the scholiasts (it is not found in the
existing fables ascribed to him), was this: The eagle carried off the
young beetles; thereupon the beetle flew to the eagle’s nest and
pushed the young birds out ‘of it. The eagle went to Zeus to com-
plain, who bade the bird build again in hissown bosom. But when it
had done so, and laid more eggs, the beetle came buzzing about the
god’s ears, and he, jumping up to scare it away, dropped and broke
the eggs.

2 For this compare the Acharnians,



PEACE. 61

and found himself outside the celestial palace. He
at once called loudly for admittance. Hermes, who
was acting as porter, opened accordingly, and was
not a little astonished and disgusted at what he saw.
“What is this?” he said. “A beetle-horse,” said the
visitor. “Away with you, then, you and your beetle-
horse,” cried the god. Trygzeus, however, had come
prepared to overcome this obstacle, and made his
peace with a piece of flesh that he had brought with
him. “And now,” said he, “step in, and tell Zeus
that I want to see him.”
Hermes. “Oh! that’s impossible. You can’t see
the gods; they are gone to the seventh heaven.”
T. “But how come you to be here, then?”
H. “Oh, they left me to look after a few little mat-
ters, pots and pans, and so forth, that they left here.”
Z. “But why did they go away?”
ff, “Because they were displeased with the
Greeks. That is why they went away, and left War
‘settled here for good.’ He is to do what he likes
with you. They are not going to look at you with
‘your everlasting fightings any more.”
T. “Oh, but why is this? What have we done?”
H. “When they wanted Peace, you were always
for War. First the Spartans would get a little the
better of the fight, and then it was, ‘These Athenian
rascals shall suffer for it’ Then you had a turn of
luck, and it was, ‘No, no, we won’t listen; as long
-as we keep Pylos, we shall always have them on
their knees.’”



62 ARISTOPHANES.

T. “Yes, yes; that is exactly what we said.”

Ao. “The end, of it al is that yous will peeb ayy
never see Peace again.”

T. “What? Where is she gone, then?”

H. “War has thrown her into a deep pit.”

ZT. “What pit?”

_H. “The one you see down there. Just look at
the heap of stones he has piled on the top to prevent
you from getting her out.”

T. “And what does he mean to do with us?”

H. “That I can’t say. I only know that last
night he brought a monstrously large mortar into the
house.”

T. “What can he want with a mortar! » %

H. “He is thinking of pounding the cities up in
it. But I must be going. I hear him making a
noise inside, and I think that he is coming out.”

The next moment, War, a fully armed figure, with
a great nodding plume, came out of the palace of the
gods, carrying in his hands a huge mortar, and mut-
tering, as he went, about a bad time coming for men.
He set the mortar on the ground, and began throw-
ing in the ingredients for a salad. First came leeks.
“Yow'll be nicely pounded up, my friends,” said he,
as he threw them in.!

1The. joke cannot be translated. The explanation is this: The
Greek word for a leek is gvason. War accordingly throws in a town
called Prasie. This was on the Spartan coast, and had been taken by
Pericles early in the war. Hence the remark of Trygzeus that follows.



PEACE. 63.

“That doesn’t matter to us,” said Trygzeus; “that’s
a blow for our friends the Spartans.”

Garlic followed.

“That’s a bad lookout for Megara,” was Trygzeus’s
comment. :

After garlic came cheese.

Trygeeus rubbed his hands. “ Now for the Sicili-
ans,” he said.t ae

But the next ingredient did not find him so indif-
ferent. It was honey, actual Attic honey from
Hymettus.

“Hold!” he cried; “none of that. That costs
sixpence a pound.”

“Now,” said War to his boy Hubbub, dealing him ©
at the samé time a sharp rap on the knuckles, “ bring
me a pestle.”

‘We haven’t got one, master,” said Hubbub. “We
moved in only yesterday.”

War. “Then run and borrow one from Athens.”

fTubbub. “Tm off, or I shall catch it.”

“This is a terrible thing,” said Trygzeus. “If that
varlet brings back a pestle, there’ll soon be nothing
left of our cities.” *

In a short time Hubbub returned. The Athenian
pestle had been lost.2

1 Megara was famous for its garlic, and Sicily for its cheese.

? The Athenian pestle, as has been explained in the introduction,
was Cleon, one of the chief advocates of the war ; the Spartan pestle,
of course, was Brasidas, }



64 5 ARIST OPHANES.

W. “Then fetch the Spartan pestle, and be quick
about it.”

T. “This is an anxious moment.”

In a short time Hubbub returned empty-handed,
and in a great state of dismay.

W. “How now? Why haven’t you brought it?”

H. “The Spartan pestle is lost, master.”

W. “How is that, you rascal ?”

H. “They sent it to some folk somewhere Thrace-
way,! and they lost it.”

T. “And they did quite right, too. By the great
Twin-brethren, all may be. well yet!”

W. “Hubbub, take the things indoors. I will
make another pestle for myself.”

Overjoyed to see War depart, Trygeeus shouted
out, calling on all Greeks to take the opportunity of
ridding themselves of their troubles by pulling Peace
out of the cave in which she had been imprisoned.

A miscellaneous crowd of husbandmen, natives
and foreigners, dwellers in the islands and dwellers
on the mainland, answered to the call, and came
hurrying in, furnished with crowbars and ropes, and
loudly expressing their delight at accomplishing the
* rescue of Peace, best and greatest of goddesses.

“Hush!” cried Trygzeus; “make less noise, or
you'll rouse War, who is indoors there.”

Husbandmen. “Oh, we were so glad to hear your

1 Brasidas, as has been stated in the introduction, was killed at
Amphipolis in Thrace,



PEACE, 65

proclamation! So different it was from that hate-
-ful ‘Come with three days’ rations apiece !’”

T. “Yes; but remember Cerberus down there.
With his blustering and barking he may do what he
did when he was up here, and hinder us from drag-
ging the lovely goddess out.of her cave.”

ffus. “Winder us! Nothing shall tear her from
us, if we only once get hold of her.”

T. “TI tell you that you'll be the ruin of the whole
business with your dancing and singing. Why can’t
you keep your tongues and your feet still?”

The husbandmen protested that they could not
help themselves. Their legs would dance whether
they wished or not. All Trygeeus’s cautions and
exhortations were in vain. They begged for only
one more turn with the right leg, and when this
was granted, for only one turn with the left, and
wound up with a vigorous movement of both.
“Wait,” cried Trygeus, “ till you’ve got her safe.
Then you may really rejoice.” So delighted was
he with the prospect that he broke out into a
song :—

‘* Oh, then you'll have time to laugh and to shout,
To stop in your homes, or go sailing about,
To feast and to sleep and the £ottabos? play,
To be merry all night, and be merry all day.”

1 A favourite game among the Greeks. ‘There were various forms
of it, the most easily described being one in which the object of the
players was to sink a number of little saucers that were floating about
in a bowl of water by throwing wine into them from a distance,



66 ARIS TOPHANES.

The husbandmen replied with another : --.

“O thrice blessed day ! may I see it at last !
I’ve had trouble enough in the time that is past !
No more will you see me so stern and severe,
But tender and younger by many a year,
When our troubles are gone, and no more we appear
Day by day on parade with a shield and a spear.
Only tell us our work, and we’ll do what we can,
For you are our master, most fortunate man.”

Trygzeus then began to inspect the stones that
covered the pit in which Peace was immured, and
to consider the best way of moving them. At this
moment Hermes appeared, and loudly protested
against the daring deed on which they were about
to venture. Trygzeus and his friends entreated him
not to betray them. At first he absolutely refused
to listen. The death penalty had been proclaimed
by Zeus against all that presumed to dig in that
place, and he could not but denounce the offenders.
Prayers seemed in vain till Trygzeus bethought him
of working upon his fears. “I'll tell you,” said he,
“about a great and dreadful secret, no less than a
plot against the gods.”

Flermes. “Go on; you may say something worth
hearing.”

T. “Well; it is this. The Moon and that ter-
rible rascal the Sun have been plotting against you
now for many years; they are intending, in short, to
betray Greece to the barbarians,”



PEACE, . 67

H. “But why are they doing this?”

T. “Why? Because while we sacrifice to you,
the barbarians sacrifice to them: so, of course, they
want to get us out of the way, and then they will
get all the sacrifices themselves.”

H. “Oh! I see; and that, I suppose, isthe reason
why they have been filching part of our days, and
nibbling off bits from their rounds.” 4

T. “Just so, my dear Hermes; so lend us a hand,
and help to pull Peace out of the cave; and it is to
you that we'll keep all the great feasts, — the feast
of Athené, the feast. of Zeus, and the feast of:
Adonis, and all the rest of them. Yes; all the cities
will sacrifice to you as Hermes the Saviour. And
here, my dear Hermes, by way of earnest, is a gold
cup.” (Produces a gold citp.)

_ Hf. “Dear me! how very pitiful the sight of the
gold makes me. Now, my men, it is for you to do
the rest. Up with your shovels, and work away.”

T. But let us first do our duty to the gods.
Hermes, hold out the cup, and we’ll begin with liba-
tions and prayers.”

ff, “Silence for the libation!”

I. “T pour and pray. Let this glad morn begiri

All joy to Greece; and he who lends to-day
A willing hand ne’er carry shield again.”

1 Among the terrors and calamities which preceded and accom-
panied the Peloponnesian war, Thucydides (1.23) mentions “ eclipses
of the sun more frequent than had ever been recorded before.” One
of these happened in the first year of the war (August 3, 431), and
another in the eleventh (March 21, 421).



68 ARISTOPHANES.

flus. “Yea, let him spend his days in peace, and sit,
His wife beside him, by a blazing hearth.”
“If any armourer, who would sell his arms,
Love battle more than peace, a curse upon him ! 1
ffus. “And whoso, greedy for a general’s pay,
Holds back and helps us not, a curse upon him !”
L, “ Again I pour to Hermes, to the Hours,
The sister Graces, and the Queen of Love,
And fond Desire.”
fTus. “And shall we say to Ares ?”
7. “To Ares? Heaven forbid it! Name him not.”
(Spits on the ground in disgust.)

sy

This ceremony ended, all set to work, and pulled
away at the rope with which the prisoners, that is, ~
Peace and her attendants, were to be hauled out of
their dungeon. Hermes encouraged them, and Try-
geeus watched to see that none shirked their task.
This, indeed, he soon found some inclined to do.
The Boeotians’ were very lukewarm, and made only
a show of working. Then some of his own country-
men, such as Lamachus,? did nothing but get in the
way, while the men of Argos made no effort at all,
but laughed at both sides, and took their profit from
each. As for the men of Megara, they seemed eager

1 The Boeotians were not anxious for peace. They had suffered
little by the war, and they had gained great’ credit by the crushing
defeat which they had inflicted on the Athenian army at Delium.
As a matter of fact, they refused to join in the Peace of Nicias,
and would do nothing more than make a truce of indefinite length,
which might be terminated at ten days’ notice, with their Athenian

neighbours,
2 The General Dobattle of the Charcoal-burners.







PEACE. 69

enough, but they were so weak with hunger that
they gave no help. Sometimes it seemed as if no
progress was being made. Still the work went on,
and at last, with a long pull, and a strong pull, and
a pull all together, the thing was done. Peace, with
her two handmaids, Harvest-home and Mayfair, was
lifted out of the pit. Trygzeus was almost beside
himself with delight. “Welcome, mighty mother of
vintages!” he cried, “ welcome, Harvest-home! wel-
come, Mayfair! O Mayfair, what a lovely face you
have! and how sweet your breath! what a_per-
fume!”

fT. “Not the smell of a knapsack, eh?”

f. “A knapsack indeed! No such abomination as
that, but a fragrance of harvests, and feasts, and
flutes, and thrushes, and bleating of lambs, and
empty flasks, and all kinds of good things,”

Then he burst out into song again : —

“Oh, think of the pleasures
Peace gave us of yore,
Of her sweet country treasures,
Her bountiful store;
Of the figs, and the vine,
And the olives divine,
And the myrtle-tree growing,
And violets blowing,
Where fountains were flowing.
These are the joys for which long we've been yearning,
For these we will welcome the goddess returning.”
lus. “Welcome, welcome, once more !



70 , ARISTOPHANES.

We have longed for thee sore.
Still desiring again,
With a passionate pain,
In the sweet country-side
Of our farms to abide,
We who follow the trade
Of the tillers of land,
For our labours are paid
By the gifts of thy hand.
Not a flower, not a fruit,
Not a tender young shoot
Of the fig or the vine,
: But will fondly combine
Through the length and the breadth of our country to greet
The thrice welcome sound of thy home-coming feet.”

“Now,” said Hermes to the husbandmen, “I will
explain to you the cause of all the mischief. Phidias
began it by getting into trouble. Then Pericles, fear-
ing lest he should be involved with him, and knowing
your fierce temper, set the city in a blaze by his
decree against Megara! The smoke of that burning

1This has been mentioned in the Charcoal-burners. The first
charge brought against Phidias was that he had embezzled some of the
gold that was to be used for the statue of Athené. This he disproved
by weighing the metal, and showing that the quantity was correct.
Then he was accused of having introduced likenesses of himself and
Pericles into the battle-scene pictured on the shield of Athené. This
could not be denied, and the sculptor was thrown into prison, where he
died. That these attacks on Phidias were made by enemies of Peri-
cles, and with the idea of vexing and injuring him, is quite clear.
That they influenced him in his policy of encouraging Athens to resist
the Spartan demands, and so bringing on the Peloponnesian war, is
another matter. It is stated by Diodorus Siculus and by Plutarch.
But the causes of great political events are not to be found in personal
matters of this kind.



PEACE, 71

drew tears from every eye in Greece. Not a vine
there was but groaned when it heard it, not a cask
but dashed itself against its neighbour. There was
nobody to stop the uproar, and Peace disappeared.
Then the subject cities, when they saw you snarling
at each other, thought that they could get rid of their
tribute, and bribed the great people at Sparta to help
them; so there was trouble abroad and trouble at
home, and the greatest mischiefmaker of all was a
certain tanner.”

Z. “Say no more about him, my dear Hermes; let
him rest where he is; he is one of your people now.
But, my dear lady (urning to Peace), why so silent?”

ff, “She has been too much wronged to forgive
easily.”

(Peace, it should be said, was represented by a
colossal statue with a head which could turn round.
Hermes speaks to her and affects to listen to her
answers.)

#7, “Dearest lady, tell me your thought. Ah!
that is it, is it? She says that when she came, after
that affair at Pylos, with a chest full of treaties, she
was thrice rejected in full assembly.”

L. “So she was; but our wits were covered up
with hides in those days.”

fl. “She wants to know who among you loves
Peace and hates War most.”

L. “Cleonymus, of course.”

ff, “What about him?”



72 ARISTOPHANES.

I. “He is not the son of the man whom he
calls his father, and when he goes to battle, he
throws away his shield and runs! away.”

ff, “ Peace wants to know who is the first man in
the Assembly now?”

I. “ Hyperbolus,? of course. But, dear lady, why
so disgusted ?”

fT, “She is disgusted with the people for aieoane
such a leader.”

L. “Oh! he is only a make-shift. And besides,
we thought that, as we were all groping in the dark,
he might throw a little light on affairs. ee

ff, “How so?”

f. “Because he makes lamps.”

ff, “She wants to know whether witty old Crati-
nus? is alive.

I. “No, poor fellow, he died when the Spartans
invaded us. He saw a butt of wine staved in, and
it broke his heart to see so much good liquor
wasted.”

In the end it was arranged that Trygzus should
return home with Peace and her two handmaids, one

1 Cleonymus, probably a political opponent of the poet, is continu-
ally attacked by him on account of alleged cowardice. Nothing is
known of the circumstances.

2 The successor of Cleon, and according to Thucydides, a worthless
fellow.

3 Cratinus, a writer of comedies, and one of the most formidable
rivals of Aristophanes, was probably alive at the time. We find
frequent jests at his fondness for wine.



PEACE. 73

of whom, Harvest-home, he should have for his own
wife. He accordingly, after taking an affectionate
leave of Hermes, called for the beetle. The beetle,
however, was not available, having been harnessed
to the car of Zeus; and Trygzus and his charges
descended to earth by a staircase, which Hermes
pointed out to him. “Dear me!” he said, when he
felt his feet on firm ground again, “what a business
it was to.get up to the gods! How my legs ache!
And how small you looked,” he went on, speaking to
the slaves, who had assembled to greet him, “from
up there! I thought you seemed a bad lot, when
‘I looked down on you, but now I see you closer,
I find you very much worse.”

A servant. “What have you got, master?”

Lf. “Got? A pain in my legs from travelling SO
far.”

S. “And did you see anybody else as
about up there?”

©. “Only a minor poet or two.”

S. “And is it true that when we die we. are
turned into stars?”

I. “Of course it is.”

S. “What are the shooting stars, then?”

Y. “Rich stars going from dinner with lighted
lanterns in their hands. But take the young lady;
let her have a bath, and be dressed for our wedding.
She is to be my bride.”

S. “And is she to have anything to eat?”



74 ARISTOPHANES.

- I. “Toeat? No. She can’t eat our food; she’s
used to ambrosia.” ,
Harvest-home being thus disposed of, Trygzeus
proceeded to make a sacrifice to Peace, to whom
he and his servant, assisted by the husbandmen,
addressed an ode of praise and thanksgiving : —

“For thirteen long years we have longed to behold you,
And now you are come we will steadfastly hold you.
When our fightings are stayed and our tumults allayed,
We will call you in future the war-ending maid;

We beseech thee to end all the whispers of doubt,
All the clever suspicions we bandy about,

All the Greeks with the solder of friendship to bind,
Breathing into them thoughts that are honest and kind.”

While the sacrifice was going on, a soothsayer
approached, crowned with laurel, after the manner
of his profession. Trygeeus thought that he was
going to interfere with the ratification of the treaties
of Peace; the servant, on the other hand, believed
that he was attracted by the smell of the meat.
Both turned out to be right, in a way. The sooth-
sayer did wish to have a finger in the pie, and made
sundry suggestions as to the treaties, which would
be repaid, he hoped, by an invitation to share in the
feast. But as his advances were rejected with very
scant courtesy, he proceeded to quote prophecy after
prophecy, foretelling a disastrous end to the pro-
ceeding. Trygzeus, however, had an answer ready
to all his sinister suggestions, and when finally asked



PEACE. 78

to produce the prophecy in reliance on which he
had himself been acting, he bravely replied with
what was wanted. It came from Homer, he said,
but of course it was an impromptu of his own.

“When the sons of Greece had driven lowering clouds of war
away,

Lovely Peace they gladly welcomed, making feast and holy day.

Flesh from thigh-bones duly burning, tasting duly, as is meet,

Savoury morsels from the inwards, pouring out libations sweet.

I, whom now you see before you, I the holy rites began,

But with bright gold goblet no one blessed the prophesying
man.”

Soothsayer. “Strange the words that thou hast
uttered; not the Sibyl’s speech, are they?”

I. “Strange they may be, yet full wisely did the
mighty Homer say: —

“He who loves the savage strife that severs men of kindred
race,

Motherhood he scorns and custom and the home life’s kindly
face.”

The soothsayer continued to interrupt and intrude,
and in the end Trygzeus and his servants drove him
away. The sacrifice ended, it became time to lay
out the wedding-supper, at which it was soon evident
there would be no lack of guests. Trygeus took
his helmet, and pulling out the crest, handed it to
the servant, with the remark that, as he had no more
use for it, it had better be used for wiping down
the tables. While this was being done, a sickle-



76 ARISTOPHANES.

maker and a cooper made their appearance. Both
were in the highest spirits. The first had sold
sickles, for which for years past no one would give a
farthing,- for a couple of pounds; the latter had
disposed of a lot of casks for country use at half-a-
crown each. They offered Trygeeus as many of
both articles as he wanted, and gave him some
money, too, by way of wedding present. The bride-
groom invited them in to take part in the feast. The
next moment a maker of crests appeared. He was
as much depressed as the others had been elated.
“What is the matter?” said the bridegroom, “A
surfeit of crests? eh?”— “You have ruined my
trade,” replied the man; “and my neighbout’s, too,
who burnishes. spears.”

I. “Well, what shall I give you for these two
crests?”’.

Crest-maker. “What will you give?”

LY. “T hardly like to say. Well, as there is a
good deal of work about them, say three quarts of
raisins for the pair. They'll do to wipe my tables
with.” i

C.-m. “Fetch the raisins; better that than nothing.”

LT: (handling them, when they came to pieces), “Take
the rotten things away. The hairs are all coming
out. Nota single raisin for the pair.”

An armourer now appeared on the scene with a
breastplate, which had cost, he said, forty pounds.
Trygeeus offered to buy it for a pan, but found it



PEACE. 77

unsuitable, and packed the man off. A trumpeter
followed, wanting to sell a trumpet, which had cost
him, he said, two pounds ten. Trygzeus could only
suggest that he should fill it with lead, fasten a pair
of scales at the-top, and use it for weighing out
rations of figs for the labourers at the farm. A
helmet-maker was advised to take his helmets, which
had cost him, he said, four pounds, to Egypt, where
they might be used to measure medicines with, while
the man that burnished spears had an offer made
to him that if he would lop off the heads, and saw
the shafts in two, Trygzeus would buy them for vine
poles, at twelve a penny. The men went off greatly
insulted. Trygeeus now espied some singing boys,
whom the guests had brought with them by way of
contribution to the feast. “ Come,” he said to one
of them, “stand here by me, and let me hear you
practise what you are going to sing.”

The boy began : —

“Sing of heroes, sing the younger.”

T. “None of that, boy; have done with your
heroes. -There is. peace, and I want to hear nothing
about them.” 4

1The word that excited Trygzeus’s wrath was that which stands for
“younger.” This is hoploteroi. It reminded him of hopla, the word
for arms, and the association of ideas is odious to him. The words
which the boy sings are the beginning of one of the poems of what is
called the epic cycle (poems relating in heroic verse the events begin-
ning with the Voyage of the Argo and ending with the Capture of
Thebes). This last was the subject of the LEpigont.



78 ARISTOPHANES,
Boy (singing again).

‘‘When the armies met together, marching slow across the
field,
Loudly buckler dashed on buckler, loudly round-bossed
shield on shield.” :

T. “Buckler! Boy, how dare you talk about buck-
lers?”

Boy (singing).
‘“‘Vaunts of victors, groans of dying, rose together to the

sky.”

7. “Say another word about ‘groans of dying’
and you shall repent it.”

Boy. “But what am I to sing? Tell me the sort
of songs you like.”

ZT. “Then on flesh of beeves they feasted, —

something of that sort.”
Boy (singing).
“Then on flesh of beeves they feasted, first from off their
sweating steeds

Loosing chariot yoke and traces, wearied sore of warlike
deeds.”

T. “That’s good. They had had enough of war,
and then feasted. Sing again of how they had had
enough and feasted.”

Boy (singing).

“Rested well they called for casques.”



PEACE, 79

T. “Yes, called for casks,! and very glad to do it.”

Boy (singing).

“From the towers and walls descending rushed. they to the
fight again,

Till once more the roar of battle rose unceasing from the

plain.”

I. “Confound you, boy, you and your battles!
You-can’t sing of anything but war. Who is your
father?”

Boy, “Lamachus.”

ZY. “Ah! I thought when I heard you that you
must be the son of some swash-buckler. Go and
sing to the spearmen. Where is the son of Cleony-
mus? Here, sing us something before we go in.
You won't sing of such things. Your father has too
much of the better part of valour.”

Second boy (singing).

“Some foeman I doubt not is proud of the shield,
_ The shield without blot that I left on the field.”

L. “Good boy! Are you singing about your
father?”

Sec. boy. “ But I saved my own life.”

7. “And your parents you shamed. But go in,
my boy. If you are your father’s son, you won’t for-

1The joke in the Greek is a play on a word which may mean “ put
on their breastplates,” but which might be used to signify “ fortified
themselves with liquor.” I am indebted for the English equivalent to

Mr. B. B. Rogers; but I remember to have seen the pun in Mr. James
Hannay’s “ Singleton Fontenoy.”



80 ARISTOPHANES,

get about the shield, I fancy. And you, my friends,
set to; there is plenty for all, and there is no good in
having fine teeth if you don’t use them.”

Hus. “We will do our duty; but you were quite
right to mention it.”

Tf. “Set to; or you will be sorry for it some day.”

Aus. “Now it’s time that the bride and the torches you
bring ;

And those that come with her shall dance and shall sing ;
And we'll pray to the gods to give plenty and peace
Forever henceforth to the children of Greece ;
Their fruit in abundance our fig-trees shall yield,
With the yard full of wine and of barley the field ;
With sons and with daughters our homes shall abound;
By the sidé of our hearth shall the blessings be found,
That of late we have lost, though we had them before,
And the name of the sword shall be heard of no more.”



Iv.

THE WASPS.

Frequent reference is made in the plays of Aristophanes to the judi-
cial system of Athens. The body of judges or jurymen—the second term
is, on the whole, more descriptive of them than the first — consisted
of six thousand citizens, chosen by lot out of the whole number.
These six thousand were divided into ten bodies of five hundred each,
who sat in different courts, dealing with different kinds of cases. The
thousand that remained over were called upon to supply vacancies.
Sometimes part only of a section would sit; sometimes two or more
sections were combined. On very important occasions, it is said, the
whole body was assembled. Each juryman received three odo, or
half a drachma, as a fee for his attendance; this sum having been
increased, according to some authorities, by Cleon, The poet in this
drama directs his satire against the characteristic faults of the courts
thus constituted, faults which may be summed up in the phrase, “ want
of a judicial temper.” ;

The Wasps was exhibited in the early part of 422 B.c., when
Cleon was at the height of his power. A few months later he was
killed. (See introduction to the Peace.)

THERE was an old gentleman at Athens who was
afflicted with a very strange disease. It was a pas-
sion, not for the things that some of his contempo-
raries were devoted to, as drinking or gaming, but
for the law courts. He was never happy except
he was serving on a jury and trying acase. Such a
hold had this passion got upon him that he could
not sleep at night for thinking of his favourite em-

8x
6



82 ARISTOPHANES.

ployment, and if he ever did doze off for a moment
his soul seemed to flutter about the clock! by which
the advocates’ speeches were timed. When he got
up in the morning, he always put his thumb and
two fingers together exactly as if he were holding a
voting pebble in them; and if-a lover had written
onthe walls, a oh
Pretty, pretty Goldilocks,

he would write underneath,

: Pretty, pretty Ballotbox.

When a cock happened to crow in the evening he
would cry ::“ That cock has been bribed to be late in
waking me by some officials who don’t like the idea
of giving in their accounts.” Supper was hardly
over before he clamoured for his shoes; and before
dawn he was off to the court, and went to sleep
leaning against the pillar on which the notices were .
posted up. And when he was sitting, he was always
for severity. It was always the longest sentence
that pleased him most.2 So afraid was he that

1 A water-clock, or clepsydra; the water occupied a certain time in
running out, and a larger or smaller clepsydra, or, it may be, a clep-
sydra filled so many times, was granted to the speakers according to
the nature and importance of the case.

2 Commonly, in an Athenian court, when a verdict had been given,
and (supposing that the prisoner had been found guilty) sentence had
to be passed, the prosecutor would first name the penalty which he
thought fit to meet the case, or which seemed to him such as the jury
would probably accept;~ and then ‘the prisoner, on the. other hand,
named some other punishment, as much milder as he could venture



- THE WASPS. . 83

he might perchance not “have a~pebble to vote with
that he kept’a private beach in his own House.

‘The old gentleman’s name ‘was’ Philocleon’;! and
father’s Ways. ‘At first this son did ‘his bést ‘to per-.
suade the old man to stop-at home. Then he tried
baths and purges; they did no good. Ther he got
him to join the worshippers of Cybele? The old
man rushed into court with a timbrel in his hand,
and took his place as usual. Then he took him
across thé straits to Aigina, and madeé him sleep
‘inside the temple of fésculapius ; but ‘the very next
morning he was standing at’ the court-rail. After
that the only thing’ was to keep the old man at
home.. But he tried’ to gét out through the water-
pipes; when these were stopped up with rags, he
drove perches into the wall and hopped down them
like a jackdaw. Then his son surrounded the house

upon, having regard to the feelings of the court.. (So when Socrates
was found guilty, the prosecutor demanded the death-penalty, while
the accused, after stating that, in his own opinion, he deserved the
highest honours from the state, proposed, in deference to the judgment
of his friends, a small- money fine [£20]. This was. practically a defi-
ance to the court, and ensured the acceptance of the heavier penalty.)
After this the jurors voted-again; those who were for the severer sen-
tence drew a long line on the wax tablet, those -for the lighter a short
one. The old man described in the text always drew a line as long as
he could, and came home with his nails full of wax,

1 The two words mean, respectively, “Cléon- lover” and “Cleon-
loather.” .. -..-- _ -

2 This consisted ue wild orgies, celebrated with music ena anes
dances.

z St ee re Meee Beeradeode



84 ARISTOPHANES.

with nets, putting a couple of slaves in charge of
them. These two watchmen had been keeping
guard all night and had dropped off to ‘sleep, when
they heard the voice of the young master crying out,
“Run, run at once, one of you! my father has got
into the kitchen-flue.” Scarcely had he said this
when he heard a voice from up above, and called
out, “ What’s that noise in the chimney ?”

Philocleon (who was trying to get out that way).
“Only a little smoke escaping.”

Bdelycleon. “Smoke? Of what wood, pray?”

Phil. “ Fig-tree, to be sure.”

del. “The most biting kind there is.” (Zo the
slaves) “Run and clap a stone on the top of the
chimney. You must try some other dodge, my dear
sir.”

Then the old man tried to make his way out by the
door; finding that barred by the slaves, he screamed
out, “I will gnaw the net.”

“But you haven’t any teeth, father,” replied the
son. Then he tried craft. It was market day, and
he wanted to sell the donkey, and he was sure he
would make a better bargain than his son. The son
would not listen. He would take the donkey to mar-
ket himself, and accordingly had the beast driven out.
The creature seemed very loath to move, and Bdely-
cleon addressed it : —

“Why so sad, my ass? Because you are to be
sold to-day? Move a little quicker. Why grunt and
groan, unless you are carrying a new Ulysses?”



THE WASPS. 85

Slave, “ And, by Zeus! there is a fellow hanging
on underneath.”

'- Bdel. “What? Where?”

Slave. ‘“ Here, to be sure.”

Bdel. “Who in the world are you?”

Phil, “No man.”

Bdel. “No man, are you? Where do you come
from?” - a

Phil. “From Ithaca, the son of Runaway.”

Bael. “Well, however you'll not get off in this
way.” (To the slaves)* “ Drag him out.”

The old man accordingly was dragged off, and
pushed inside, and the door was bolted, barred, and
still further fortified by stones and other things piled
up against it. While the slaves were busy about this,
one of them was startled by a clod of earth falling on
his head. Philocleon had mounted on to the roof,
and seemed to be intending to fly off. “Throw the
net over him,” cried his son. This done, the slaves
ventured to suggest that a sleep would be welcome.
Of this, however, their young master would not
hear.

“Sleep!” he cried, “why, his fellow-juryman will

1 Philocleon bethinks him of the device by which Ulysses and his
men had escaped from the cave of the Cyclops. The hero: had tied
his companions under the bellies of rams, and he himself had clung in
the same way to the biggest and strongest. The Cyclops, sitting at the
mouth of the cave, and feeling the animals as they go out, asks this
animal which was accustomed to lead the flock, why it is so long in
coming out. The name “ No man ” is another reminiscence of the story.



86 ALSO MALES:

be here very soon to call for him, and. we shall have
to deal with them.” ‘

“ But, sir,” said the slave, ‘it is only. just ‘twilight. a

— “Ah!” replied Bdelycleon,. “then they are very
late to- eke soon after pee is. their usual time
for coming.” : ;

Slave. “Well, if they do. come, we can asi pe
them with stones.”

Bédel. “Pelt them, indeed! You might as well stir
upa wasps’ nest as anger these old.men.. Every one
of them wears a terrible sting, . and ‘they'd: ‘leap on
you like live coals out of the fire.”

_ Slave. “Don’t be afraid. Give ‘me some > stones,
and I'll scatter their wasps’ nest, be it ever so big.”

Sure enough, before many minutes had passed, the
host of jurymen? appeared, a set of poorly dressed,
hungry looking fellows.. They came slowly on, pick-
ing their way, while their young sons carried lanterns
by their side. They were greatly astonished, on
arriving at Philocleon’s house, to see no trace of
their colleague, and sang a stave, in the hope of
bringing him out :—

“Why doesn’t he greet us in front of his hall? .
Why doesn’t he hear and reply to our call?
Perhaps he has had the misfortune to lose
The only one pair that was left him of shoes;
Or perhaps it may be he has’ injured his toe
1 They were dressed in the play in garments striped with yellow

and black, so as to resemble wasps, and each was furnished with a
formidable looking sting.



e

THE WASPS. 87

With groping about in the dark; such a blow,

When a man is in years, very painful may grow.

He was ever the sharpest and keenest of all;

In vain on his ear all entreaties would fall;

If you sued for his grace, with an obstinate stoop

Of his head, he would mutter, ‘Boil stones into soup.” _

Can it be that, attempting in vain to forget

The fellow who yesterday slipped through our net,

Having cheated us all with detestable lies

About plots he had spied out among our allies,

He has sickened with fever? That's just like our friend.
' But up with you now, for it’s foolish to spend

Your time in these fruitless reproaches. We've got

From Thrace! a fat.traitor to pop.in our.pot.”

Philocleon replied in corresponding strains :—

“Friends, long have I wasted away with my woe,
As I heard through the chimney your voices below; ~
I am helpless; these will not allow me to go
With you as my spirit desires, for I burn
To do some one or other a mischievous turn, .
If I only could get to the balloting urn.?
‘O-Lord of the thunder, I pray that the stroke
OF thy lightning may speedily change me to smoke
Or to stone, if I only the table were made
To which for the counting the votes are conveyed.”

_ 1 At the time when this play was acted, the struggle of Athens to
retain her possessions in Thrace was going on. The meaning of the
original is not that the traitor was a Thracian, or brought from Thrace,
but that he had betrayed the interests of the city in reference to its
Thracian possessions.

2 The urns (one for acquittal, one for condemnation) in which the
jurymen deposited their votes.



Full Text


40
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The Baldwin Library




Be "STORIES FROM. THE GREEK

_ COMEDIANS ©












TRAINING A CHORUS,
-* STORIES

GREEK COMEDIANS

+
age

- ' ARISTOPHANES, PHILEMON,
_ DIPHILUS, MENANDER, APOLLODORUS

BY THE -
Rev. ALFRED J. CHURCH, M.A.

LaTELy Proressor oF LaTIN In UNIVERSITY CoLLEGE, Lonpon

‘WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS
AFTER THE ANTIQUE

LONDON
SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED
Essex STREET, STRAND
1893
PREFACE.



It has been said that the Greeks had three schools
of comedy, — the old, the middle, and the new. The
old was the “Comedy of Politics.” It took the form
of extravaganza or farce. The reader will find nine
‘specimens of it in this volume, all taken from Aris-
tophanes, who indeed is the only writer of this school
that is left to us. With the middle we need not now
concern ourselves. Possibly we may get some idea
of what it was like from the Women in Parliament
and the Plutus, two of Aristophanes’s later plays.
The new comedy was the “Comedy of Manners.”
It may be compared with the dramas that bear this
name on the modern stage, and also with the ordinary
novel. We have it only in the translations of Plautus
and Terence.

I have dealt very freely with my originals, not
indeed adding anything, but leaving out much, trans-
lating sometimes, and sometimes paraphrasing. Of
the liberty which I have allowed myself, I may give
an instance. In the Achkarnians I have in one place

v
vi PREFACE.

translated “drachmas” by “ guineas,” though “ shil-
lings” would have been nearer the truth. But the
context seemed to require it. It was necessary that
the envoys should be thought overpaid, and the word
“shillings” would not have given the impression.

I have many obligations to acknowledge. Perhaps ©
my largest debt is to the translation of Mr. Hookham .
Frere. These I have even ventured to alter and
compress, and to mingle with them some of my own
renderings. I owe much to the admirable versions
by Mr. B. B. Rogers of the Wasps and the Peace,
and to the editions of Mr. Merry, one of the most
ingenious and felicitous of Aristophanes’s critics. I
would mention also a translation of the Acharnians
by Mr. Billson, and of the Women in Parliament
by the Rev. R. Smith. Mr. Lucas Collins’s. excellent
summaries in the “Ancient Classics for English
Readers” I have also found useful.

ALFRED J. CHURCH.
CONTENTS.

PART I.

SroRIES FROM THE OLp CoMEDY.
CHAPTER
I. THE ACHARNIANS. ARISTOPHANES.

Il. THe KNIGHTS. ARISTOPHANES .
III. PEacr. ARISTOPHANES .

Ve THE Wasps. ARISTOPHANES .
V. THE CLouDS. ARISTOPHANES
VI. THE Brrps. ARISTOPHANES .

VII. THe Frocs. ARISTOPHANES .

VIIL. THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. ARISTOPHANES .

IX. PLutus. ARISTOPHANES
PART II.
STORIES FROM THE NEw CoMEDy.

I. Tue BuRIED TREASURE. PHILEMON .
“TI. THe Guost. PHILEMON

III. THE SHIPWRECK. DIPHILUS .

IV. THE BROTHERS. MENANDER.

V. THE Grru or ANDROS. MENANDER .

VI. PHORMIO. APOLLODORUS
yii

PAGE

239
264
279
302
315
326
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

TRAINING A CHORUS .
GENERAL DOBATTLE .. .

Biusrer’s Way... . .,

TRYGAUS BRIBING HERMES WITH A GOLD

CUR AND PINCHER. ...
PHEIDIPPIDES Nar atay oe
TRISH pet ee cele asin gh

HERCULES AND POSEIDON .
BaccHUS AND XANTHIAS
THE WOMEN’S CONSPIRACY .
fESCULAPIUS . . 1...

PHILTO AND LESBIONICUS .

THE TEMPLE OF APHRODITE .

Micio AND DeMEA ...

THE WRATH OF SIMo . .

PHADRIA AND THE Music GirL. ,

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STORIES FROM THE OLD COMEDY.

ARISTOPHANES.

STORIES FROM THE GREEK COMEDIANS.

I,
THE ACHARNIANS.

The long struggle between Athens and Sparta which goes by the
name of the Peloponnesian war broke out early in 431 B.c. Athens
kept for a considerable time the command of the sea, but was unable
to resist in the field the overwhelming forces of Sparta and her allies.
Early in the summer of the first year of the war, Archidamus, one of
the kings of Sparta, entered the Athenian territory at the head of an
army of eighty thousand men. Pericles, who was then the leading
statesman of Athens, had persuaded his countrymen to dismantle their
country-houses and farms, and to bring all their movable and portable
property within the walls. Still the sight of the ravages of the invad-
ing host, which, of course, could be plainly seen from the walls, roused
the people almost to madness. The Athenians, though excelling in
maritime pursuits, were passionately fond of a country life, and it was
almost more than they could bear to see their farms and orchards and
olive-yards wasted with fire. Inferior as they were in numbers, they
loudly demanded to be led out against the invaders, and it was as
much as Pericles could do to keep them within the walls. The inhabi-
tants of the deme or township of Acharnze were prominent among the
malcontents. Acharnz was the richest and most populous of the
townships of Attica, contributing no less than ten thousand men to
the total force (about twenty-nine thousand) which Athens could put
into the field. The chief occupation of the place was charcoal-burning,
the woods of Mount Parnes being conveniently near. No place was
more interested in the question of peace and war, as it was here that
the Spartan king pitched his camp. The invasion was repeated year

_ after year, though on some few occasions various things happened to
prevent it. Not only did the Athenians lose greatly by the desolation
of their country, but they suffered much by being cooped up within the

3
4 ARISTOPHANES.

walls of the city; a most fatal pestilence was thus caused in the second
year of the war. And it was but a small satisfaction to retaliate by
ravaging the coasts of the Peloponnesians, and by annually invading
the territory of Megara, a city which had concluded ‘an alliance with
Sparta, There had always been a peace party in the state, and when
Pericles died, early in the third year of the war, this party became more
powerful, At the same time the war party conducted affairs less pru-
dently. The cautious policy of Pericles was discarded for remote
expeditions and out-of-the-way schemes. Aristophanes, in this play,
exhibited in February, 425 (it is the earliest comedy that has come
down to us), sets forth the views of the advocates of peace. He
expresses the feeling of distress caused by the desolation of the coun-
try, and also the dislike felt by prudent politicians for the extravagant
ideas of the war party. The play, or, as I may call it for my present
purpose, the story, opens in the Athenian place of Assembly (Pnyx).
Diczopolis (Just-City), whose name I have Englished by “ Mr. Hon-
esty,” is sitting alone on one of the empty benches, and begins by
expressing his disgust at the indifference of his fellow-citizens.

“Dear me!” said Mr. Honesty to himself, as he
got up and walked about the empty place of As-
sembly at Athens, “how careless these people are
about their country! Look at them there, lounging
among the market stalls, and dodging the rope.!
Even the magistrates are not here. As for peace—
nobody gives a thought to it. For myself, I think of
nothing else: I am here the first thing in the morn-
ing, and it is always ‘peace,’ ‘peace’ with me.
How I hate the city! How I long to see the fields
again, my own village, and my poor little farm! No
fellows there bawling out, ‘Buy my charcoal!’ ‘Buy
my oil!’ ‘Buy my everything!’ There was no

1 A rope rubbed with red chalk, with which the police swept loiter-
ers into the place of Assembly.
THE ACHARNIANS. B

buying there. Everything came off the estate, and
was to be had for nothing. Ah! here they come at
last. Well, nobody shall say a word with my good-
will, except he speaks for peace.” ~

After various preliminaries the magistrates took
their places, the people crowded in, and a herald
opened the proceedings by. shouting out, “ Does any
one wish to speak?”

“Yes; I do,” cried out a strange-looking creature,
dressed as if he had stepped down fom a pedestal in
a temple.

“What is your name?” asked the herald.

“Demigod,” said the stranger. “I am ‘directly
descended from the goddess Demeter, and I am sent
by the gods to arrange for a peace between this city
and Sparta; only, unfortunately, I want a little ready
money for my journey, and I can’t get the magis-
trates to advance it.”

“This is a very sensible man,” said Mr. Honesty.
The next moment he was amazed to see that the
presiding magistrate was sending the archers! to turn

the stranger out. “Hold!” he cried, “you insult
: the people. Don’t you know that the man wants to
give us peace?”

Just at this moment there was a diversion. The-
herald shouted out, “Silence there! Make way for
the ambassadors from the Great King!”

“Gentlemen,” said one of the ambassadors, coming

1“ Archers” would be about equivalent to police.
6 ARIST OPHANES.

forward, “you will remember that you sent us a few
years ago on an embassy to the Great King with a
poor allowance of a couple of guineas a day.”

“Poor guineas!” muttered Mr. Honesty, “we shall
never see them again.”

The ambassadors went on: “You ought to know,
gentlemen, that it was a very laborious service on
which you sent us. All day we had to ride in car-
riages, lying on soft cushions, with an awning over
our heads.”

“Very laborious!” growled Honesty. “I was on
guard all night, with nothing over me, and only a
mat under me.”

Ambassador, “Then the barbarians entertained us,
and we were obliged to drink strong wine, without a
drop of water in it, if you will believe us, out of cups
of crystal or gold, for this, you must know, is the test
with them; the best man is he who can eat and
drink most. At the end of four years we reached
the royal palace, and found that His Majesty had
gone to the hills for his health. There he stayed
eight months, till the cure was complete. When he
came home he gave us audience, and entertained us
at a royal banquet, at which were served up oxen
baked whole in crust.”

Honesty. “Oxen baked whole in crust! Did you
ever hear such a lie?”

Amb. “ Also there was served up to us a big bird,
as big as a man, that they call the Chousibus.”
THE ACHARNIANS. 7

lon. “Chousibus indeed! You have choused us
out of our guineas.”

Amb. “ However, we did not go for nothing; we
have brought back with us a great Persian noble-
man. Sham-Artabas is his name; he is nothing less
than the King’s Eye. Come forward, Sham-Artabas,
and explain to the people of Athens what the Great
King means to do for them.”

On this, a curious creature, wearing a mask which
was all one big eye, came forward, followed by a
train of attendants in Persian attire. He muttered
something which sounded like —

“ Artaman exarksam anapissonai satra.’’}

“There!” cried the ambassador, “didn’t you hear
him? Don’t you understand him?” .

“Understand him!” said Mr. Honesty, “no; not:
a syllable.” . yen 3

Amb. “Why, he said that the Great King means
to send us some gold. Tell them” (turning to Sham-
Artabas), “tell them about the gold; speak louder
and more plainly.”

The Eye spoke again.

“ Gapey Greeks, gold a fooly jest.”

Hon. “ Ah, that is plain enough!”

Amb. “Well, what do you make of it?”

ton. “Why, that it is a foolish jest for us Greeks
to think that we shall get any gold.” 7

1 Supposed to resemble the words with which a Persian edict
commenced.
8 - ARISTOPHANES.

_ Amb. “Youre quite wrong; he didn’t say ‘jest,’
but ‘chest.’ He told us that we should get. chests
full of gold.”

__ Hon. “Chests indeed! You're nothing but a swin-
dler. Stand off, now, and I will get the truth out of
the fellow. Now listen to me, Mr. Sham-Artabas,
and answer me plainly. You see this fist; if you
don’t want a bloody nose of right royal purple, speak
the truth. Is the king going to send us any gold?”

The Eye shook his head.

“ Are the ambassadors cheating us?”

The Eye nodded.

“Well, anyhow, the creature knows how to nod in
Greek.”

While saying this he closely scrutinized the stran-
gers, and cried out, “I believe he comes from this
very city; and, now I come to look, I see two scoun-
drels in his train whom I know as well as I know my
own brother. Ho there, you rascal! what do you
mean —?”

“ Silence!”? shouted the herald; “the Senate in-
vites the King’s Eye to dine in the Town Hall.”

Hon. “Is not that enough to make a man hang
himself? These rascals are to dine in the Town
Hall, and I am left outside here! ‘But here comes
Demigod. Now, my good fellow, take these two
half-crowns, and make the best of your way to
Sparta, and conclude a separate peace for me, my
wife, my children, and my maid-servant. But whom
have we here?”
THE ACHARNIANS. 9

“ Silence!” cried the herald again, “for His Excel-
lency, the ambassador, returned from Thrace |”

“Gentlemen,” said the ambassador, “I should not
have stayed so long —”’

fon. (ede). “Tf you had not Been paid by the
day.”

Amb. “Tf it had not been for the snow, which
covered all the country and froze up all the rivers.
We passed the time drinking with King Sitalces,
who is a very good friend of yours, gentlemen; he
chalks up your name on the walls, for all the world

like a lover.
“Sweet Athens, fair

’ Beyond compare.

As for his son, a citizen as you. know, he is passion-
ately fond of Athenian sausages, and would not be
satisfied till his father promised to send an army to
help us. The king swore that he would, aye, and so
big a one that we should say when we saw it, ‘Good
heavens! what a tremendous flight of locusts!’ ”

fon. “Well, you're right there. Locusts indeed!”

“These are the men,” the ambassador went on,
pushing forward as he spoke a troop of deplorable
looking ragamuffins; “they are the fiercest fellows
in Thrace. Give them a trifle of a couple of shillings
a day, and they will worry the Beeotians out of their
lives.”

“What!” shouted Honesty, “a couple of shillings
a day for these beggars! How about our brave sea-
Io ARISTOPHANES.

men, the men who really keep us safe? What do
they get? Two shillings! What an iniquity! Yes,
and one of the scoundrels has stolen my garlic. Ho
there, you magistrate, are you going to see a citizen
robbed before your eyes? Well, if you won't listen,
I will put a stop to this. I protest against going on
with business. I felt a drop of rain.” !

Hereupon the herald proclaimed, “ The Thracians
must attend again on the first of next month. The
Assembly is adjourned.”

“That is all right,” said Honesty, “but I have lost
my luncheon all the same. However, here comes my
friend Demigod back. Welcome, Demigod!”

“Tt’s a very poor welcome that I’ve had,” said the
man, who was panting for breath. “As I was coming
along, some wild fellows—charcoal-burners they
seemed to be—smelt out the treaties of peace.
‘What!’ they cried, ‘you bring treaties of peace,
when our vines are cut down to the ground! Stone
him! Down with him!’ And they filled their pock-
ets with stones and ran howling after me.”

flon. “Let them howl. Have you brought the
treaties?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Demigod, producing three
wine-skins, ‘I have three samples of them. Here is
a five years’ specimen; what do you think of it?”

1 This was the Greek form of parliamentary obstruction. The As-
sembly had to be adjourned for bad weather; that it had to be done if
a single member declared that he felt a drop of rain is doubtless an
exaggeration.
THE ACHARNIANS. It

Hon. “T don’t like it at all. It smells of rosin —
no, not exactly rosin, but pitch and ship-tar.”

Dem. “Try this ten years’ one, then; that may suit
you.”

Hon. “That’s not much better. There is a kind
of acidity about it; some sort of taste, it seems to me,
of ambassadors going about to quicken allies, and
allies hanging back.”

Dem. “Well, here’s the thirty years’ sort. What
do you think of that?”

Ffon. “ Admirable! That’s the kind for me. This
is pure nectar and ambrosia. No smack of ‘every
man will provide himself with rations for three days’
here, but a ‘go where you please’ kind of taste in
one’s mouth. I'll take this; no more wars for me,
but a jolly time on my own farm when the vintage
feast comes round again.”

Dem, “Very good; but I must be off, or those
charcoal-burners will be down upon me.”

Saying this, Demigod disappeared.

“And now,” said Honesty, “for a little festival of
my own.”

At this point the charcoal-burners rushed in, in
hot pursuit of Demigod, a set of stout old fellows, all
grimy and black with their work. While they were
looking about for the fugitive, cursing his impudence
for thinking of peace when their vines and fig-trees
were burnt to the ground, and lamenting the burden
of years which had made them lag behind in the
12 . ARISTOPHANES,

race, they spied Honesty coming out with his house-
hold, ‘prepared ‘to. celebrate the. festival in the old
fashion.. His. daughter walked in front, bearing on
her head a basket with a long roll of bread in. it;
Honesty himself carried a bowl of porridge, and two
slaves brought up the rear. .The. worthy man was
very anxious that.everything should be done in order.
He cried “Silence!” to the spectators, told his wife to
go up to the roof and look on, and was very partic-
* ular in his directions to his daughter... “Carry it
prettily, my dear,” he said, “and look your primmest,
and mind no one filches. your ornaments in the press.
You are a nice girl,” he went on, as he saw how well
she behaved; “your husband will. be a lucky man.
And now let me sing the song.

“Leader of the revel rout,
Of the drunken war and shout;
Half a dozen years are past,
Here we meet in peace at last;
All my wars and fights are o’er,
Drinking contests please me more;
If a drunken head should ache,
Bones and crowns we never break;
If we quarrel overnight
At a full carousing soak,
In the morning all is right,
And the shield hung out of sight |
In the chimney smoke.”

Scarcely had he finished, when the charcoal-burn-
ers, who had been. in hiding, burst. in. upon him,
‘THE ACHARNIANS. ‘13

crying, “This is the scoundrel with the meanes
Stone him! Stone him!”

Ffon. “What is all this about? You'll break the
bowl.” |

Charcoal-burners. “Stone him! Stone him!”

Hon, “But why, my venerable friends ?”

C.-6..“ You ask us why! You're a traitor. You
have made peace on your own account.”

fTon, “ But you haven’t heard why I made it.”

C.-6. “No, and won’t hear either. Stone him!
Stone him!”

Flon. “Wow! hold!”

C.-b. “Why should we hold? You’ve made peace
with the Spartans.”

Hon. “You won't listen, then?”

C.-b. “Not to a word.”

ffon. “Well; if you won't, I’ll have my revenge.
I’ve got a young townsman of yours here, and as
sure as you throw a ae stone, Pl run him
through.”

C-b..“ Good heavens! What does the fellow
mean? Has he got one of our children there?”

Ffon. “Throw, throw if you want to. But he
dies the death.” , :

So saying, he produced what looked like a baby in
long clothes, but turned out to be —a coal scuttle.
“Spare him! Spare him!” cried the charcoal-burn-
ers, and shook out all the stones from their pockets,
while Honesty dropped his’sword. After this he was
allowed to plead his cause.
14 ARISTOPHANES.

But to plead it effectively he had to make sure of
rousing the compassion of his judges, and this, it
occurred to him, could not be better done than by
donning some of the pitiable rags with which Eurip-
ides, the tragedian, was wont to clothe the heroes of
his dramas. “I must make my way to Euripides,”
he cried, and hurried off to the poet’s house. After
a little difficulty in discovering whether the great
man was at home or not, —he was at home himself,
writing a play, the servant explained, but his mind
was out collecting verses, —the petitioner was allowed
an interview. Euripides, who was sitting in his gar-
ret, himself dressed in rags, that he might be more in
sympathy with his subject, which was, as usual, a
hero in reduced circumstances, demanded what his
visitor wanted.

Hon. “J implore you, my dear Euripides, to give
me some rags from that old play of yours. I have
to make my defence, and if I fail it means death.”

Euripides. “What play? What rags? Do you
want those in which the luckless old CEneus! wres-
tled with fate?”

1 The stories of these unfortunate heroes may be briefly told:

1. CEneus, father of Tydeus, was king of AXtolia. Artemis, whose
sacrifices he had neglected, sent the Calydonian boar to ravage his
country. He was expelled from his kingdom by the sons of Agrius.

2. Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles, blinded by his father (according to
one tradition, but not in Homer) on account of a false accusation.

3. Philoctetes, one of the chieftains who sailed to Troy. He was

bitten in the foot by an adder in the course of the voyage, and the
wound became so noisome that his comâ„¢~ions could not endure his
THE ACHARNIANS. “Eg

Hon. “No, no; it must be some one far more
wretched than CEneus.”

&. “The blind Phoenix, then?”

Hon. “No, not Phoenix; far worse off than he.”

&. “What does the man want? The rags of the
beggar Philoctetes?”

Hon. “No; ten times more of a beggar than Phi-
loctetes.”

£. “Bellerophon, then, the blind Bellerophon?”

Hon. “No, not Bellerophon, though it is true that
he was a blind beggar and a terrible fellow to talk.”

E. “I know the man you mean — Telephus of
Mysia.”

Hon, “Exactly; it is Telephus’s rags I want.”

E. (to his servant). “ Boy, give this gentleman the
rags of Telephus. They are on the top of Thyestes’s |
and below Ino’s.”

Flon. “You have been very kind, Euripides, but if
you would give me also the Mysian hat.”

&. “Here it is.”

Hon. “ And the beggar’s staff.’’ é

E. “Take it, and vanish from my marble halls.”

Hon. “O my soul! see how hard he is on me, and

neighbourhood and put him ashore on the island of Lemnos, then unin-
habited. :

4. Bellerophon, exiled on account of a false accusation, and after-
wards lamed by a fall from his winged horse Pegasus.

5. Telephus, Prince of Mysia, wounded by Achilles and afterwards
cured by the rust from the spear which had pierced him. The circum-
stances under which he appeared clothed in rags are not known to us,
16 ARISTOPHANES.

I want a number of other things. Do give me a
wicker lamp-shade with a hole burnt in it.”

&. . “Know, fellow, that you bore me, and depart.”
Hon. “Once more I ask—a cup with broken lip.”
&. “Take it and perish, trouble of my house!”
Hon. “And yet again a pitcher plugged with sponge.”
&. “Fellow, you rob me of my work; and yet

I give it— go!”
flon. “Oh! yet once more I beg

One thing which lacking I am all undone;

O dearest, sweetest singer, may the gods

Destroy me, if I ask but one thing more,

One only, single, solitary boon,

A plant of chevril from your mother’s store.”!

&. “The man insults us; close the palace doors.”

Thus clad, and laying his head on the chopping-

- block, to be ready, if he failed to make out his case,

for instant execution, Honesty proceeded to defend
himself.

“You blame me for making peace,” — this was the
substance of his argument, — “but what was the war
about? Why, the most trumpery thing in the world!
A girl is kidnapped from our neighbours of Megara.
Our neighbours kidnap two girls from us, and the
mighty Pericles, forsooth, must bring out his thunder
and lightning, for all the world like Olympian Zeus,
till all Greece was in a turmoil. Then came his
decree, short and sharp: ‘No one from Megara shall

1 Aristophanes is never weary of joking about the low extraction of
Euripides’s mother. It was said that she had sold vegetables.
THE ACHARNIANS. 17

have any trade with Athens.’ Our neighbours, being
half starved, go to the Spartans and ask them to
intercede. The Spartans beg us to repeal these
decrees. Once, twice, thrice they ask, and we refuse.
Then they go to war. But say, were these poor
people so very wrong after all? Suppose the Spar-
tans had manned a boat, and stolen a puppy-dog
from one of the islands, would you have sat quietly
down under the insult? Not so; you would have
launched three hundred ships, and all the city would
have been in an uproar with troops marching and
crews clamouring for pay and rations, and we should
have had newly gilt statues of the goddess carried
about the street, and wineskins, and strings of onions
and garlic in nets, and singing girls, and bloody
noses. No, no; they only did just what we should
have done.”

Honesty’s eloquence converted half his enemies;
the other half called the darling of the war party,
General Dobattle, to their aid. He came at once, in
full armour, wearing a helmet with an enormously
large crest, and declaiming in pompous tones,

“Whence falls this sound of battle on mine ear?
Who needs my help? The great Dobattle’s here!
Whose summons bids me to the field repair?

Who wakes my slumbering Gorgon from her lair?”

“Dear me!” cried Honesty, pretending to be
frightened ; “what an awful plume! What kind of




‘18 ARISTOPHANES.
bird does it come from? A white-feathered boastard
[bustard] by chance?”
Dobattle. “ Fellow, thou diest!”
Hon. “You re not the man to do it.” ;

Dobat. “ Do you know you’re ‘speaking to a gene-
ral, you beggar?”

Eon, © Beggar! Beggar in your teeth! You a
general! Only one-of the cram hisspay 3 sort!”

Dobat. “1 was duly elected.” ’

Fon, “Elected! yes, by half a’ dozen’ cuckoos. I
am sick of the whole business; white-haired: men
serving in the ranks, and you and your young sprigs
of nobility off on an embassy to Thrace or Sicily or °
heaven knows where! — but always drawing pay.”

Dobat. “We were duly elected.”

fTon. “But why is it always you, and never honest
fellows such as he? Here, Coaldust, did you ever.
goonanembassy? He shakes his head. And yet
he would have done admirably for it. Or you, Heart-
of-Oak? Or you, Bend-in-the-Shoulders? No, you

“see, not one of them.”

Dobat. “O sovereign Pe shall I bear such
wrong?”

ffon. “ All things are borne, so Dobattle is paid.”

On this Dobattle marched off, finding that he could
make nothing of his antagonist. ‘Hereby I pro-
claim,” he said, as he departed, “that I will harass
the men of the Peloponnesus night and day.”

“And I,” said Honesty, “hereby proclaim that I

THE ACHARNIANS. 19

open a market for the men of the Peloponnesus and
their allies, and that they may come and buy and sell
with me, but not with General Dobattle.”

The other half of the charcoal-burners now pro-
claimed their conversion, and Honesty, encouraged
by their support, set about marking out the boun-
daries of his market, appointed constables to see that
the regulations were observed, and set up in the midst
a pillar with the terms of the treaty engraved upon it.

The first dealer that presented himself was one of
the neighbours from Megara. The poor fellow had
got nothing to sell but his two little girls; still he
was delighted to see an Athenian market again.

“Market of Athens, hail! For as a child
Longs for its mother, have I longed for thee!”

Then he turned to the children: “ But you, the
luckless children of a luckless sire, what is to be dené
with you? Would you sooner be sold or starve at
home?” @

“Sell us, sell us, dear papa!” cried the two in
chorus.

“Yes; but who will buy you? It would be a.
sheer loss. Hold! I have an idea. Put these pet-
_ titoes on and these little snouts, and mind you grunt
and whine and kick about like pigs. If you don’t, I
shall have to carry you back home, and you will be
worse starved than ever.— Mr. Honesty, do you
want to buy some pigs?”
20. ARISTOPHANES.

Fon. “What? Who is this? A man from Me-
gara?”’

. Megarian. “Yes; I have come to market.”

ffon. “ And how are you getting on?”

Megar. “ As hungry as thunder.”

Hon. “And your government? What is that
doing?”

Megar. “ Doing its best to ruin us.”

fon. “Well, what have you got in your sack
there? Salt?”

Megar. “Salt? How could it be salt, when you
have got all our salt-pans?””

ffon. “ Garlic, then?”

Megar. “Garlic indeed! How could it be garlic
when you came and dug up the very roots, like so
many field-mice ?”

ffon, “ What is it, then?”

Megar. “Pigs, pigs for sacrifice.”

Flon. “Oh! indeed.”

Megar. “Yes, pigs. Don’t you hear them squeak?”
(Aside) “ Squeak, you little wretches, or it will be the
worse for you.”

_ “Wee, wee,” squeaked the two daughters.

Ffon. “Can they feed without their mother?”

Megar. “1 should think they could, and without
their father either.”

fon. “What do you want for them?” after some
more chaffering.

Megar. “This I will sell for a rope of onions, and.
the other for a bushel of salt.”
THE ACHARNIANS, : 21

Ffon, “Very good; I’lltake them. Stand there a
moment.” —

“That’s good business,” said the man to himself.
“T only wish I could sell my wife and mother at the
same rate.” i

At this point one of the informers, who made a
living out of denouncing contraband goods, made his
appearance. “Who are you?” he said to the man
from Megara.

“A man of Megara, come to sell pigs,’ was the
answer.

“TY denounce you and your goods as contraband of
war. Here, hand them over.”

“Mr. Honesty, Mr. Honesty,” screamed the man,
“T am being denounced!”

“Constable,” said Honesty, “put the fellow out;
no informers are allowed in this market. And here,
my good friend, is the garlic and the salt. And now
farewell.”

“Farewell indeed,” said the poor man; “ but it is
not our way in Megara to fare well.”

A dealer from Beeotia was the next to come. The
man had a heavy basket on his back, and was fol-
lowed by slaves similarly burdened. “That’s a pretty
load,” he said, as he put the basket on the ground.
“ And now, my friend, what will you buy?”

“What have you got?”

“Got? Why, everything, as a body may say; all
the good things of Thebes, — marjoram, penny-royal,
22 ARISTOPHANES.

rush-mats, lamp-wicks, ducks, jackdaws, partridges,
coots, sandpipers, divers.”

“Why, you are like a north wind in winter, with
all the birds you bring.”

“Yes, and I’ve got geese, and hares, and foxes,
and moles, and hedgehogs, and weasels, and moun-
tain cats, and—what do you think?—eels from
Copais!” roy }

“What! Eels? Let me see the eels.”

The Boeotian held out a fine eel in his hand, and
addressed it with profound respect : —

“First-born of fifty daughters of the lake,
Come forth and greet the stranger.”

The Athenian answered in a similar strain : —

“O my child,
O long regretted and recovered late,
Welcome, thrice welcome! Hark ye there, my man. .
Prepare the stove, the bellows, and behold,
At last behold her here, the best of eels,
Loveliest and best, after six weary years
Returned to bless us. Bear her gently in.
O eel, so fair thou art, that e’en in death
Still would I fain possess thee — stewed with beet!”

Beotian. “Yes, very good; but what are you
going to give me for her?”

Hon, “Oh! I take this as a sort of perquisite; but
if you have anything else for sale I shall be glad to
buy.”
THE ACHARNIANS, 23

Beot, “ Everything is for sale.”
_ fon. “Well, what do you say for the lot? | I sup-
pose you won’t mind taking a return cargo ?”

Beot. “Certainly not; but what is there that you
have in Athens and we haven’t: got in Boeotia?” |

fZou. “ Anchovies? » Crockery?”
_ Beot. “Anchovies and crockery wi we have i in plenty.
But surely there is something that you have, and we
have not!”

ffon. “Ah! T have it. Ho there! oBrae out the
informer ; pack him as so much crockery.”

Beot. “Excellent! excellent! Ishould make ever so
much money by exhibiting him as a mischievous ape.”

fTon. pee there; there is another of the same
kind coming.” pre
- Beot. “He is very small.”

fon. “Yes, but very bad.”

Informer the second came in. “What goods are
these,” he said. cor

“Mine,” replied the Boeotian. ‘We be come from
Thebes.” :

Informer. “Then I denounce them. They come
from the enemy’s country.”

Beot, “What! denounce the birds and beasts?
What harm have they done?”

Inf. “Yes, and I denounce you, too.”

Baot. “Me! What have you to say against me?”

‘nf. “Just to satisfy the bystanders I will explain.
You have brought in lamp-wicks. That means a
plot to burn the arsenal,”
24 ARIST OPHANES.,

Honesty interrupted at this point. “What in the
world do you mean? Burn the arsenal with the
wick of a lamp!”

Lnf. “ Certainly.”

Hon. “But how?”

Lnf. “Listen! This Boeotian rascal would catch a
water-spider, fasten the wick on its back, wait for a
strong north wind, light the wick, and send the
spider with it into the harbour. Let the fire once
catch a single vessel, and the whole place would be
in a blaze.”

“Stop his mouth!” cried Honesty. “Tie a hay-
band round him, and send him off.”

The charcoal-burners, by this time thoroughly con-
verted to peace views, were so delighted that they
burst out into song.

“To preserve him safe and sound,
You must have him fairly bound
With a cordage nicely wound,

Up and down and round and round;
Securely packed.”

Honesty took up the strain : —

“T shall have a special care;
He’s a piece of paltry ware;
As you strike him here or there, [strikes him]
Don’t you hear his cries declare
That he’s partly cracked?”
C.-b. “How, then, is he fit for use?”
fon. “ As a stove-jar for abuse,
Plots and lies he cooks and brews,
Slander and seditious news.”
THE ACHARNIANS. 25

C.-b. “Have you stowed him safe enough?”
Hfon. “Never fear; he’s hearty stuff;
Fit for usage hard and rough,
Fit to beat, and fit to cuff,
To toss and fling, =
You can hang him up or down,
By: the heels or by the crown.”

The Beeotian bade one of his servants take the
package on his back and march off with it.

“Well,” said Honesty, looking after the party,
“‘you’ve got a queer piece of goods with you; if you
do make anything of him, you will be the first person
that ever got anything good out of an informer.”

A slave now appeared with a message: “ General
Dobattle sends five shillings, and wishes to buy a
dish of quails and a good-sized eel from Copais.”

Hon. “General Dobattle! And who, pray, is
General Dobattle ?”

Messenger. “The fierce and hardy warrior; he that wields
The Gorgon shield and waves the triple plume.”

fTon. “Let him wave his triple plume over a mess
of salt fish; quite good enough for him.”

By this time it was noised about that Honesty had
got some of that precious commodity, peace, and he
was overwhelmed with applications for it. A coun-
tryman came in groaning and lamenting.

“What's all this about?” asked Honesty.

“Oh, my dear friend,” said the man, “just a little
drop of peace.”
26° ARISTOPHANES.

Ffon. ‘‘What’s the matter?” :

Countryman. “Ym ruined, I’m ruined! The Beeo-
tians came down this morning and carried off my
pair of plough oxen. They were all my living.”

The lucky possessor would not part with a drop.
The only petitioner that succeeded was a bridesmaid
whom the bride had sent with a little bottle. “She
wanted,” she said, “just a little drop to keep her hus-
band at home.” Mr. Honesty was willing to oblige
a lady, and sent her away with the bottle full, ex-
plaining that the bride must use it the next time there
was a ballot for recruits.

Meanwhile, General. Dobattle had come in person
to try whether he could not succeed better than his
messenger. But before he could open his mouth, a
despatch from the War Office arrived. “You are
hereby directed to muster your men, and march to
the mountain passes. There you must ambush in the
snow, information having been received that a ma-
rauding party is coming from the Boeotian frontier.”

Hardly had he read the despatch when a message
came for Honesty. It was to this effect: “You are
hereby requested to come with all your belongings to
the temple of Bacchus. The company are waiting
for you, and everything is ready, — plum cake and
plain, confectionery, fruits preserved and _ fresh,
savouries and sweets, flowers and perfumes.” And
now began a bustle of preparation on either side.

The General, Quick with my knapsack!”
THE ACHARNIANS. a7

Ffon. “ Quick with my dinner and wine!”

Gen. “ Give me.a bunch of leeks.”

ffon, “Veal cutlets for me.”

Gen. “ Let me see the salt fish. It does not smell
good.”

Hon. “ How fresh this mullet is! Cook it on the
spot.”

Gen. “Bring me the lofty feather of my crest.”

ffon. “Bring doves and quails ; I scarce know which is

best.”

Gen. “ Behold this snowy plume of dazzling white !”
ffon. “Behold this roasted dove, a savoury sight!”

This was past all bearing, and the General at:
tempted to draw his sword, but found it rusted to the
scabbard. On the other hand, Honesty was going to
defend himself with the spit, but had first to disen-
gage it from the roast meat. However, they didn’t
come to blows. . The General contented himself with.
_a threat: “ Pour oil upon the shield. What do I see
in it? “An old man frightened to death because he
_ is going to be tried for cowardice.” vs

. “Ah!” said Honesty, “pour honey on the secure
What do I see in it? A jolly old fellow, who tells
the Dobattles and the Gorgons to go and hang them-
selves.” .

The General marched off to the frontier, while
. Honesty:went to the feast, the charcoal-burners
bidding the two rivals farewell in the following
stave :—
“28 ARISTOPHANES.

“Go your ways in sundry wise,
Each upon his enterprise.
One determined to carouse,
With a garland on his brows;
T’other bound to pass the night
In a military plight
Undelighted and alone;
Starving, wheezing,
Sneezing, breezing,
With his head upon a stone.”

After a while a message arrived from the seat of
war. He said :—

“Slaves of Dobattle, make the water hot;
Make embrocations and emollients ready,
And bandages and plasters for your Lord;
His foot is‘ maimed and crippled with a stake,
Which pierced it as he leapt across a ditch;
His ankle-bone is out, his head is broken,
The Gorgon on his shield is smashed and spoilt;
The cock’s plume on his helmet soiled with dirt.”

Immediately afterwards the General himself ap-
peared in the sorriest plight, and at the same time
Honesty, who had won the prize at the feast by fin-
ishing a gallon of wine, came in supported by his
companions.

Dobat. “Strip off th’ encumbrance of this warlike gear
And take me to my bed.”

fTon. “And for me,
My bed, I take it, is the fittest place.”
THE ACHARNIANS. 29

Dobat. “O bear me to the public hospital!”

ffon. “Where is the ruler of the feast? The prize
Is mine, this empty gallon testifies.”

C.-6. “Then take the wineskin as your due:
We triumph and ryoice with you.”
Ii.
THE KNIGHTS.

The campaign which followed the production of the Acharnians
greatly encouraged the war party, and dashed the hopes of the advo-
cates of peace. The most important victory of the year is referred to
in the story about to be told, and must be briefly described. As the
result of a series of operations, which it is needless to relate in detail,
a body of four hundred and twenty Spartan soldiers were blockaded in
Sphacteria, an island close to Pylos on the western coast of the Pelopon-
nesus (near the modern Navarino). For some time the siege dragged
on, the Athenian generals seeming unable to bring it to a successful
issue. The demagogue, Cleon, censured their incompetency in the
Assembly at Athens, and declared that were he in command, he would ©
bring the Spartans to Athens within a few days. He was taken at his
word, almost compelled to go, and, strange to say, whether from trick,
skill, or the audacity of ignorance, accomplished his task. Such a dis-
aster had never before happened to Sparta. The men whose lives were
in danger were a considerable part of the fighting power of the state.
The Spartan authorities at once asked for an armistice, and to secure it
consented to hand over their fleet to the Athenian admiral in command
on the spot. This done, they sent an embassy to Athens and opened
negotiations for peace, offering most favourable terms, all, in fact, that
could reasonably have been expected. These, however, were rejected,
and the war went on. Aristophanes exhibited the play of the nights
(so called from the chorus, which was supposed to consist of the “ Gen-
tlemen” of Athens, a class next to the wealthiest). We are told that_
Cleon was at this time so powerful and so much dreaded that the peo-
ple who manufactured masks for the theatre refused to make one that
would represent the demagogue’s features. Aristophanes, who acted
the character himself, possibly because he could not find an actor will-
ing to undertake it, had to “make up” for the part by smearing his
face with the lees of wine.

3go
THE KNIGHTS. 31

It is only fair to say that a view of ‘Cleon’s character and policy very
different from that which we get from Aristophanes, and, it may be
added, from Thucydides, may be found in some modern writers, notably
in Mr. Grote and Sir George Cox. (“Greek Statesmen,” second
series. ) 4

“It should be explained that there are five characters in the story:
1, Demos (people), who is represented as a selfish old man, of a very
uncertain and fickle temper, very hard on old servants who have done
well for him for years, and taking up with new favourites who humour
his caprices and minister to his appetites. The original of this is the
Athenian people.

2 and 3. Two old servants whom I call Victor and Hearty. They are
now out of favour with their master, thanks to the interference of a new-
comer, Bluster (or the Tanner), and look about for some means of get-
ting rid of their oppressor. The originals are two well-known Athenian
soldiers and statesmen, Nicias (#é#é—victory) and Demosthenes
(sthenos — strength, and demos—the people). These names nowhere
occur in the play, but the characters were doubtless recognized at once
by the resemblance of their masks to the features of the originals. -

4. Bluster (or the Tanner) = Cleon,

5. The Sausage-seller, destined to be Demos’s new favourite,

A body of “ Knights” or “ Gentlemen ” is present, and takes the part
of Bluster’s enemies.

“WHAT a scandal and a shame it is!” cried Hearty,
coming out of Demos’s house, followed by Victor ;
“ever since Master brought home that scoundrel
Bluster, not a day passes without his thrashing us
unmercifully ; confound him, I say!”

“And I say so, too,” cried Victor, rubbing his
arms and shoulders.

Hearty. “Well, it is no good cursing and crying.
We must do something. What do you propose ?”’

Victor, Can’t you propose something yourself ?”

ff, “No, no! TI look to you.”
"32 ARISTOPHANES.

a “Well, I have thought of earrees Say‘ run.’
“Very good. IT say it: a

- “ Now say ‘away.’”

“ Quite so: ‘away.’ ”

V “Now both together very quick: first ‘run,’
then ‘away.’”’

Hf. “Here you have it: ‘run away.’ ”

_V. “Well, doesn’t that sound sweet?”

ff, “T-don’t know. -I seem to hear the crack of a
whip somewhere about.”

2 “Then we must think of something else.”’

“Shall I tell the state of things to our friends
an ?” pointing to a little crowd of people that had
gathered round.!

V. “You could not do. better.”

Hf, “Listen, then, my good friends. We have a
master at home here, a rough, passionate old gentle-
man, and just a little deaf. The first of last month
he bought a new slave, Bluster by. name, who had .
worked in a tanner’s yard. A more wicked, lying
fellow there never was. Well, he got to know our
master’s ways, and flattered and wheedled him with
this kind of thing —‘ You'll take a bath, sir; you’ve
done business enough for one day, and here’s a little
trifle of money that has just come in for you,’?.and,
‘Can I serve .you with anything, sir?’ And as sure

« 1In the play Hearty addresses the spectators. :
2 Lit. “Take your three odo/s.” This was the sum which an Athe-

nian citizen received for acting as a juror. _The custom was introduced
by Pericles, :
N hy
\



BLUSTER’s Way.
THE KNIGHTS. 33

as, any one of us got something nice ready for the old
gentleman, he would lay hands on it and give it to
him. Why, this very morning I had made some
Spartan pudding,! and he comes in the most rascally
way and carries it off, and serves it tip as his own.
Yes, the pudding that I had made. He won’t let one
of us go near the old gentleman, but stands behind
him with a great flap of his own leather, and keeps
us all off like so many flies. Then he tells lies about
us and we get flogged. Or he goes round among us
and blackmails us. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘what a
beating Barker got the other day. It was all through
me; and if you don’t make it worth my while you'll
catch it ten times worse.’ If we say no, then old
Demos knocks us down and tramples on us till we
haven’t any breath left in us. That’s about the
state of things —isn’t it?” he went on, turning to
Victor. ‘The question is— what are we to do?”

V. “TI see nothing so good as the runaway trick.”

ff, “Run away! It is impossible. The fellow
has his eyes everywhere.”

V. “Then there is nothing left for it but to die.
Only we must die like men.”

HT, “Well, what is your idea?”

V. “JT think that we should drink bull’s blood.
We can’t do better than follow Themistocles.”

#7, “Bull’s blood indeed! the blood of the grape,
I say! Then we might have some happy inspiration.”

1 See Introduction.
34 ARISTOPHANES.

V. “What? Do you think getting tipsy will help
us?” . aes)

HT, “Yes, I do, you poor water-pitcher. Do you
mean to doubt the inspiration of wine? Where can
you find anything more potent? Is there anything
that men can’t do when they are drunk? Wealth,
prosperity, good luck, helping their friends, every-
thing is easy to them. Bring me a pitcher of wine.
Pll moisten my understanding till the inspiration
comes.”

V. “You'll ruin us with your drink.”

ff, “Ruin you! Nothing of the kind. Off with
you and bring the wine.”

Victor ran off and in a few minutes reappeared
carrying a pitcher of wine. “Well!” he said, “it
was lucky that I got it without any one seeing.”

HT, “Tell me, what was Bluster doing ?”

V. “He had gorged himself with half-digested
confiscations, and was lying fast asleep and snoring

“on a heap of his own hides.”

Hearty went on drinking and thinking. At last

he started up, crying : —

“Thine is the thought, good Genius, not mine own.”

V. “What is it?”

ff. “That you go and steal the prophecies that
Bluster keeps indoors.”

This was not really to Victor’s liking. However,
he went, and came back with them. One he knew
THE KNIGHTS. 35

to be especially precious. Bluster, he explained, had
been so fast asleep that he knew nothing of what
was being done. Hearty took the writing and looked
at it and asked for another cup of wine. ‘ Well,”
said his companion after a pause, “what says the
prophecy?”

ff, “ Another cup.”

V. “Does it say ‘another cup’?”

ff, “O Bacis!”}

V. “What is it?”

ff.. “ Quick with the cup!”

V. “Bacis seems to have been very fond of cups.”

AZ. “O scoundrel of a Bluster! I don’t wonder you
kept this prophecy so close, for it shows how your
fall will be brought about.”

V. “Quick, tell me — what does it say?”

ff. “It says that it is ordained that first of alla ~
hemp-jobber shall rule the city.”

V. “That’s jobber number one. Go on.”

Ai, “After him a calves-jobber.” -

V. “Jobber number two. But what is to happen
to him?”

Hi. “Heis to prosper till a greater. scoundrel than
he shall come, a daring, thieving rascal, a tanner by
- trade, and Bluster by name.”

V. “And what of him? Is there another jobber
to come?”

1 Bacis was a well-known author of prophecies, the Nostradamus or
Mother Shipton of those days.
36 _ ARISTOPHANES.

“Yes; one with a noble business.”
“What is it?”
“Must I tell you?”
“ Certainly.”

H. “Then listen. A sausage-seller shall drive out
the man of hides.”

V. “A sausage-seller! Good heavens! what a
trade! where are we to find him?”

H. “We must look for him. And, as I am alive,
there he comes just in the nick of time.

*

SN

“ Blest sausage-seller, best and dearest, come,
Saviour of Athens, saviour of thy friends!”

The sausage-seller, greatly astonished at this ad-
dress, wanted to know what was meant, and was told
to put down his tray and then kiss the earth, and
make a reverence to the gods. Again he asked what
they wanted, and was again addressed with profound
respect : —

“Thrice happy child of wealth, little to-day,

To-morrow growing great beyond compare,
Of Athens, dear to heaven, lord and chief.”

Sausage-seller. “Come, come, don’t make game of
me; let me wash my paunches and sell my sausages.”

H. “Paunches indeed, and sausages! Look here.
Do you see these crowds of people?”

Ss. “Yes, I see ’em.”

H. “Well, you'll be their lord and master. Every-
thing — Assembly, Senate, admirals, generals — will
be under your heel.”
THE KNIGHTS. ay)

Sis. “What? my heel?”

Al. “Yes; and that is not all. Get up on this
stall and look at the islands.” P

The sausage-seller climbed on to the stall, which
was supposed to command a view of the islands in
the Aégean Sea, tributary to Athens, as members of
the Delian Confederacy.1 “Yes, I see them,” he said.

fT, “You see their ports and their merchant ves-
sels?”

Sis. “Yes.”

ff. “And are you not a lucky man? Now look
a little further; look at Asia with your right eye,
and Carthage with your left.”

S.-s. “TI don’t see much happiness in aaron

ff, “ All me is yours to buy and sell. So the
prophecy says.” -

S.-s. “What! mine, and I a sausage-seller?”

Hf. “That’s the very thing that makes your title,
because you are a low-bred, vulgar, impudent fellow.”

S.-s. “I don’t see how I am fit for such a big
thing.”

Ff. “Not fit! What do you mean? I am afraid
that you have something good on your conscience.
Are you by any chance a gentleman by birth?”

1The Delian Confederacy was originally a league of Greek states,
especially of the islands in the Augean, formed after the Persian war to
make a combined resistance to any future attack from the Persians.
By degrees it became an Athenian empire. Many of the islands pre-
ferred making a money payment to furnishing ships and crews, They
thus became entirely dependent on Athens.
38 ARISTOPHANES.

S.s. “A gentleman? Bless me, no. I am come
of as poor a lot as any in the town.”

ff, “What luck! You could not have started
better.”

Ss. “But Pve got no education; just a little
writing, and that very bad.”

Hf. “Well, that’s against you, that you can write
at all. Greatness here, you must understand, is not
for educated, respectable people. Dunces and black-
guards get it. So don’t you let the chance slip.
Now listen to the prophecy : —

“Whene’er the eagle in his pride,
With crooked claws and leathern hide,
Shall seize the black, blood-eating snake,
Then shall great Bluster’s tan-pits quake;
And Zeus shall give high rule and place
To men of sausage-selling race,
Unless, perchance, it please them more
To sell the sausage as before.

Do you understand all this? No? Well, listen:
the leathern eagle is Bluster. His claws are his way
of pouncing on people’s money. The snake, of
course, is a black pudding. Snakes are long and
black, so are black puddings; snakes are full of
blood, so are black puddings. There’s a prophecy
for you!” ,

S.-s. “Yes, it sounds fine. But how shall I be
able to manage the people?”

Hl. “Manage the people? The easiest thing in
THE KNIGHTS. 39

the world. Do just as you have been doing. Mangle
and mash everything. Flavour and spice to suit the
people's taste. You have got every qualification for a
demagogue. You have a vile voice, you are low-
born, you are ill-bred. Absolutely nothing is want-
ing, and here are the prophecies fitting in. So make
your prayer to the god of Boobydom, and tackle the
fellow.”

S.-s. “Yes; but who will be on my side? The rich
are afraid of him, and as for the poor, they shake
in their shoes.” ,

ff, “Who will be on your side? Why, a thousand
gentlemen of Athens who scorn and detest him, aye,
and every honest man in the city.”

At this point there was a terrified cry from behind,
“He’s coming! he’s coming!” and Bluster rushed
out of the house, vowing vengeance against every-
body. The sausage-seller was about to take to his
heels, when Hearty entreated him to stand firm, as
his friends were at hand. The next moment the
promised host of gentlemen appeared on the scene,
and gaining confidence by their support, the sausage-
seller came forward and confronted his adversary.
A fierce contest followed, in which each combatant
sought to overpower his adversary with abuse. and
threats.

Bluster. “I charge this man with treason. He
sells sausages to the Peloponnesian fleet.”

S.s. “I charge this man with worse than that.
40 ARISTOPHANES.

He runs into the Town Hall with his belly empty,
and runs out with it full.”

B. “Dog and villain, you shall die.”

SiS. “TI can scream ten times as high.”

B. “Tl o’erbear you and out-bawl you.”
Sins. “Tl out-scream you and out-squall you.”
B. “Stare at me without a wink.”

Sis. “Never do I blush or blink.”

B. “T can steal and own to stealing;

That’s a thing I know you dare not.”
Si-5. “That is nothing; when I’m dealing,

I can swear to things that are not,

And, though hundreds saw, I care not.”

Bluster was still unconvinced that he had found his
match and more; and the sausage-seller related for
the encouragement of his backers incidents in his
bringing up which fully justified their hopes. “It is
not for nothing,” he said, “that ever since I was a
child I have been cuffed and beaten, that I have
been fed on scraps, and yet grown to the big crea-
ture that I am. Oh! I used to play rare tricks.
I would say to a cook, ‘See, there’s a swallow, the
spring is coming,’ and when he looked away I stole
a bit of his meat. Mostly I got clear off; but in
case any one saw me, I swore that I had never taken
it. I remember a great politician in those days, who
saw me do it, saying, ‘ This child will be a great man
with the people some day.’”

After another fierce encounter of words, the two
fell to: blows, Bluster getting the worst of it, espe-
THE KNIGHTS. 4I

cially when they closed, and the sausage-seller tripped
him by a specially nasty trick. Enraged at being
thus worsted, he rushed off to the Senate, threatening
informations, charges of treason, and other dreadful
things.

“He’s gone to the Senate,” said the sausage-
seller’s backers to him. ‘“ Now’s your time to show
your mettle, if you are the mighty thief and liar that
you pretend to be.”

“Tm after him,” said the fellow, and off he went,
having been duly rubbed with grease to make him
slippery, and primed with garlic, like a fighting-cock,
to give him courage. Before very long he was back,
and told his backers, who had been getting a little
anxious about him, the story of how he had fared.

“T followed him,” he said, “close upon his heels
to the Senate House. There he was storming and
roaring, bellowing out words like thunderbolts, raving
against the aristocrats, calling them traitors and what
not, and the Senate sat listening, looking sharp as
mustard. And when I saw they took in all his lies,
and how he was cheating them, I muttered a prayer,
‘Hear me, Powers of Fraud, and Boobydom, and ye
Spirits of the Market and the Street, the places
where I was bred, and thou, great Impudence, hear
me, and help, giving me courage, and a ready tongue,
and a shameless voice.’ And when I had ended
my prayer, I took courage, for I knew that the Great
Spirits had heard me, and cried aloud, ‘O Senators,
42 ARISTOPHANES.

I have come with good news, for I was resolved that
none should hear them before you. Never since the
war broke upon us, no, never have I seen anchovies
cheaper.’. Their faces changed in a moment; it
was like a calm after a storm. Then I moved that
they should lay hands on all the bowls in the town,
and go to buy the anchovies before the price went
up. At that they shouted and clapped their hands.
Then Bluster, seeing what a hit I had made, and
knowing of old how to deal with them, said, ‘I pro-
pose, gentlemen, that in consideration of the happy
event that has been reported to the Senate, we have
a good-news sacrifice to the goddess of a hundred
oxen.’ That took the Senate, you may be sure.
Well, I wasn’t going to be outdone with his oxen;
so I bid over him. ‘I propose,’ I said, ‘that the
sacrifice be of two hundred oxen! And furthermore,
that we sacrifice a thousand goats to Artemis, if
sprats should be fifty a penny.’ That brought the
Senate round to me again. And when he saw it he
lost his head, and began to stammer out some non-
sense, till the archers dragged him away. And what
did he, when the Senators were just off after their
anchovies, but try to keep them. ‘Stop a moment,
gentlemen,’ he said, ‘to hear what the herald from
Sparta has got to say; he has come about peace.’
‘Peace!’ they all cried with one voice (that’s be-
cause they knew that anchovies were cheap), ‘we
don’t want peace; let the war go on.’ Then they
THE KNIGHTS. 43

bellowed to the magistrate to dismiss the Senate, and
leapt over the railings. But meanwhile I got down
to the market and bought up all the fennel, and gave
it to them for sauce, when they were at their wits’
end where to find any. How much they'made of
me, to be sure! I bought the whole Senate, you
may believe me, for three ha’porth of fennel!”

His backers, delighted at the story, greeted him
with a song of triumph: —

“You have managed our task on an excellent plan,

You certainly are a most fortunate man;

Soon the villain shall meet

A more excellent cheat,

Of devices more various,

Of tricks more nefarious.
But gird up your loins for another endeavour,
And be sure you will find us as faithful as ever.”

And, indeed, the man had need of all his courage ;
for the next moment Bluster arrived, furious at his
defeat, and swelling, as his adversaries said, like a
wave of the sea. “Ah!” he cried, “you contrived
to get the better of me in the Senate; but come
along to the Assembly, and you shall see. — Pray come
‘out, my dear Demos,” he went on, for they were just
in front of Demos’s house; “pray come out for a
moment.” The sausage-seller joined in, “Yes, father,
come out by all means.” — “Come, dearest Demos,”
said Bluster, “come and see how they are insulting
me.”
44 ARISTOPHANES.

The old man bounced out inarage. “ What is all
this noise about? Get away with you! See what a
disturbance you have made. Well, Bluster, who has
been hurting you?”

B. “This eCno with his young iseas has been
beating me.’ ,

D. “And why?”

B. “Only because I love you.”

D. (turning to the sausage-seller), “ And who are
you, sir?”

S.-s. “One who loves you far better than this fel-
low. Aye, that I do, and so do other good men and
true; only, unhappily, you won’t have anything to.do
with them, but give yourself up to lamp-sellers, and
cobblers, and tanners, and such low folk.”

B. “But I have done Demos good service.”

S.-s. “How, pray?”

B. “Did I not sail to Pylos, and come back bring-
ing my Spartan prisoners?”

Sis. “Yes; and I, on my walks the other day,
saw a dish of meat that somebody else had cooked,
and filched it.”

B. “Well, Demos, call an assembly, and settle
which is your best friend.”

S.-s. “Settle it by all means, but not in the Pnyx.”!

D. “T can’t sit anywhere else.”

S.-s. “Then Iam a lost man. The old gentleman
is sensible enough at home; but once let him settle

1The Pnyx was the place of Assembly at Athens.
THE KNIGHTS. - 4S

himself on those stone seats,‘and he takes leave of
his senses.”

However, his friends encouraged him; he plucked
up spirit, and, when Demos had taken his seat in the
Pnyx, boldly confronted his rival. ‘“ Demos,” began
Bluster, ‘ now listen to me :—

“If I should despise you, or ever advise you
Against what is best for your comfort and rest,
Or neglect to attend you, defend you, befriend you,
May I perish and pine; may'this carcase of mine
Be withered and dried, and curried beside,
And straps for your harness cut out from the hide.”

The sausage-seller was not behindhand. “Listen
to me,” he said : —

“O Demos, if I tell one word of a lie,
If any man more can dote or adore,
With so tender a care, then ] make it my prayer,
My prayer and my wish to be stewed in a dish,
To be sliced and be slashed, to be minced and be hashed,
And like offal remains that are left by the cook,
To the place of the dead be dragged off on a hook.”

B. “Demos, had you ever a better friend than I
have been? Haven't I piled up heaps of money in
your treasury, torturing and squeezing and threaten-
ing, caring nothing for any man, as long as I could
do you a good turn?”

S.-s. “There is nothing wonderful about that. I
can do all that for you. I can filch another man’s
loaves and serve them up at your table. But I have
46 ARIS1 OPHANES.

something better for you than that. Is it not a fact
that you, who fought the Persians at Marathon and
conquered them so gloriously, have been sitting here
ever since with nothing between you and the hard
stone? Look at this cushion that I. have stitched
together for you. Get up, my dear sir; and now will
you sit down again? Never again will you have to
rub what you made so sore at Salamis.”

D. “My dear sir, who are you? One of the fam-
ily of Harmodius I fancy. I never saw a more
truly patriotic thing.”

BL. “Well, that is a PED ELY. little thing to make
so much of.”

S..s. “I dare say; but you have trapped him with
baits five times smaller.”

B. “Now, Ill wager my life that there never was
a man who loved Demos more than J.”

S.-s. “You love him! and you have let him live
now for eight years in tubs? and crannies and turrets
on the wall! Ah! you have shut him in, like bees in
a hive, and taken his honey, too. And when the am-
bassadors brought proposals for peace, — and a very
good peace, too, — you kicked them out.”

1Harmodius and Aristogeiton, two Athenian nobles, assassinated
Hipparchus, who was one of the sons of Peisistratus, and, along with
his brother Hippias, had succeeded to his despotic power. Though ©
the assassins seem to have had no other motive than to avenge a pri-
vate wrong, their memory was always honoured in Athens, as if they
had acted from the purest patriotism.

2The poor Athenians during the siege were driven to live in any
place where they could find shelter,
THE KNIGHTS. 47

B. “And quite right, too. It has all been done to
make him lord of Greece; for what do the enn
cies say? Listen: —

“Tf he still perseveres, for a period of years,
He shall sit in Arcadia, judging away,
In splendour and honour, for fivepence a day.”

S.-s. Arcadia indeed! Much you thought about
Arcadia! What you are thinking about is how to
make a purse for yourself out of the tribute, while
Demos — thanks to the dust that you kick up— can
see nothing of what is going on. But let him once
get back to his farm, and get up his courage with a
dish of porridge, and tackle an olive cake, and he
will make you pay for all your villainies.”

£. “O my dear Demos! don’t believe him. You
have never had a better friend, or a more watchful.
Haven’t I kept you up? Haven’t I watched night
and day, and discovered treasons, plots, and conspir-
acies without end?”

S.-s. “Oh, yes; we all know what you mean by
your treasons and plots. You are just like the fel-
lows that fish for eels. When the water is clear, they
catch nothing; when they stir up the mud, then they
have excellent sport. You confound everything with
your talk about treason, and, when nobody is looking,
pocket your fees and your bribes. But come; answer
me this: you with all your leather, have you ever
given him a single skin to mend his old boots with?”
48 ARISTOPHANES.

D. “That he hasn’t, I swear.”

_ Ss. “Does not that show what sort of a fellow
he is? Now, look here at this nice pair of shoes;
I bought them on purpose for you to wear.”

D. “This is the very best patriot I ever saw.”

Ss. “Look again. It’s winter now, and this fel-
low knew that you were getting on in years, and
yet he has never given youatunic. Now, see this
nice one with two sleeves! that I have bought you.”

D. “Why, this is a better thing than even The-
mistocles ever thought of; not that the Peirzeus?
wasn’t a good idea, but it wasn’t so good as this
warm tunic.”

B. (offering a leather cloak). “Take this, my dear
sir; it will keep you admirably warm.”

D. (turning up his nose). “Take it away; it smells
most abominably of hides.”

S.-s. “Of course it does; this is part of a regular
plan to choke you.”

Demos had sat awhile, buried in thought, and
weighing against each other the claims and services
of the two rival candidates for his favour. At last
he roused himself from his reverie and spoke.

“T have come to the conclusion that the sausage-
seller is the best friend that the workingman has
ever had. You, Bluster, have made great pretences,

1 Slaves wore a tunic with one sleeve only.
2The great harbour of Athens, the importance of which, for the
welfare of Athens, Themistocles was the first to see.
THE KNIGHTS. 49

and done me nothing but mischief. .-Hand me over
my ring. You shall not be my steward any longer.”

B. “Take it; take it; if you will not let me be
your steward, you will find a far worse.”

Demos took the ring and examined it. “Why,”
he said, “this is not my ring. The device is not the
same, or I have lost my eyesight.”

S.-s. “What was the device?”

D. “A steak of beef ready cooked.”

S.-s. “That is certainly not here.”

D. “Not the steak? What is it, then?”

S.-s. “Why, a conncrant standing on a rock with
his mouth wide open.” me 2 aktet <

Demos was on the point of giving the sausage-
seller another ring as the sign of his appointment,
when Bluster entreated him to wait awhile, at least
till he had heard the prophecies that he (Bluster)
had got at home referring to him. There was a
whole chestful, he declared, and they were full of
the most delightful panes. that were to eae here-
after.

The sausage-seller was not to be outdone. He
had prophecies, too, at home; a whole attic and two
flats were full of them. Bluster boasted that his
were by the famous prophet Bacis. ‘“ Mine,” retorted
the sausage-seller, “are by Bacis’s elder brother,
Glanis.” Both of them went to fetch these precious
documents, and both returned staggering under a
load. “Now,” said Demos to Bluster, “hand me

4
50 ARISTOPHANES.

that one that I like so much, of how I shall become
an eagle in the clouds.”
Bluster reads : —.

‘Son of Erectheus, mark and ponder well
This holy warning from Apollo’s cell.
He bids thee guard the sacred sharp-toothed whelp,
Who for thy sake doth bite and bark and yelp;
Guard and protect him from the chattering jay,
So shall thy juries all be kept in pay.” 4

D. “What is all this about? What is meant by
Erectheus and the dog and the jay?”

B. “I am the dog; I bark for 0 and Apollo
says:that you are to take care of me.”

Ss. “Itis nothing of the kind. I have got the
true oracle about the dog. Listen to this: —

“Son of Erectheus, ever at thy feast
Beware the dog, the greedy, filching beast.
He wags his tail, still fawning as you eat,
But when you look away he steals the meat.”

D. ‘That sounds much better, Glanis.”
B. “Listen again to this :—

1 The poorer class of Athenians depended very much on the pay of
three odo, or half a drachma (represented by fourpence farthing in
English money, if measured by weight, but actually equivalent to
more) which they received for performing the office of jurymen. The
practice of making this payment is supposed to have been begun by
Pericles, but the pay was increased by Cleon. It may be compared,
riot so much in itself, but in its political significance, to the distribution
of money and corn under the empire at Rome.
THE KNIGHTS. OBA

“In sacred Athens shall a woman dwell ;

’ There shall she bear a lion fierce and fell;
With many gnats the noble beast shall fight,
Guarding, as dam her cubs, the people’s right ;
Him must thou shelter, for the public good,
With iron bulwarks and a wall of wood.

I am the lion; Apollo commands you to take care of
me.”

D. “You the lion? Why, a moment ago you
were a dog.”

S..s. “Ah! sir, but he hides the true sense of the
prophecy of the lion and the wooden wall in which
Apollo says you are to keep him.”

D. “What is it?”

S.-s. “Of course it is the stocks; you are to keep
him in the stocks.”

D. “Good! That is a prophecy that seems very
likely to be fulfilled. But I have not heard about
the eagle yet.”

&, “Listen then :—

“Soon shalt thou soar aloft on eagle’s wings,
Acknowledged lord of earth, and king of kings.”

S.-s. “And now hear mine: —

“Earth and the Red Sea shall your rule obey,
While comfit cake you munch from day to day,
Sitting on juries in Ecbatana.”

D. “J think Glanis is a better prophet than Bacis.
But now listen, you two. Have done with your
52 ARISTOPHANES.

promises and prophecies. The man that serves me
up the best dinner I shall make manager-in-chief.
Away with you, and see what you can get for me.”
The two competitors ran off in furious haste, and
the gentlemen who had been backing the sausage-
seller took the opportunity of reproaching the old
man with his easy surrender to unworthy favourites.

“Worthy Demos, your estate
Is a glorious thing and great;
All men trembling bow them down,
As before a despot’s frown;
But you're easy of belief,
So that every rogue and thief
Finds you ready to his hand.
Flattery you can’t withstand ;
What your last advisers say
Ever will your judgment sway.”

Demos makes reply : —

“You're a fine set of sparks, but your wits are but weak ;
What you think is a folly is only a freak;
Believe me, my friends, I am not what I seem,
Iam quite wide awake, though you think that I dream ;
I pamper these thieves, but I smash them to bits
As soon as the right opportunity fits.”

The Gentlemen.

“Tf that’s what you meant, we approve your intent;
If you keep them like beasts, fattened up for your feasts,
Fed high in the stall, till occasion shall call,.
And a nice little vote puts a knife to their throat,
And your cook serves them up when you dine or you sup.”
THE KNIGHTS. 53

At this point the two competitors returned and
began their final struggle. Bluster put a chair. for
his master, but the sausage-seller outdid him by
putting a table.

B. (handing a dish). “See, here’s a pudding which
I made at Pylos.” ;

S.-s. (handing another). “Here are some cheese-
cakes which the goddess has made with her own
ivory hand.”

D. “Mighty goddess, what a big hand you have!”

B. “Here’s some pease-pudding.”

S.-s. “Here’s a fine mess of porridge.”

B. “Here’s a batter pudding, also from the
goddess.” :

‘S.-s. “ And here’s a savoury stew with sippets that
she sends you.”

B. “Taste this pancake.”

S.-s. “Try these fritters and this cup of wine.”

D, “The wine is excellent.”

S.-s. “So it should be, for she mixed it herself.”

B. “Here, I have got a slice of cake for you.”

Ss. “ And here, I have got a whole cake.”

B. (aside to the S.-s.). “Here is hare pie. When
will you get hare pie?”

S.-s. (to himself). “How shall I get hare pie. O
my soul, invent some knavish trick!”

B. “Do you see the hare pie, you poor devil?”

S.-s. “Never mind (Jretending to look away). They
are: coming to me.”

B. “Who? Who?”
54 ARIS TOPHANES.

S.s. “Some envoys with bags of silver.”

B. (looking eagerly round). “Where? Where?”

S.s. “Can’t you let the strangers alone? (Swatches
at the hare pie while Bluster is looking about him, and '
offers it to Demos.) See, my dear Demos, the hare
pie I have got for you.”

B. “Why, the villain has taken my dish.”

S.s. “Just what you did at Pylos, my friend.”

D. “Tell me, how did you think of stealing it?”

_ Svs. (piously). “The thought was born of heaven,
the theft was mine.”

B. “TI took all the trouble.”

S.-s. “But I served it up.”

D. “Who hands it gets the thanks.”

S.s. “Come now, can’t you decide, my dear sir,
who treats you best?”

D. “How am I to judge?”

Ss. “I will tell you. Look at my basket and
- gee what is in it, and then look at his. That will
decide.”

This Demos did. The sausage-seller’s was found
to be practically empty. Bluster’s had all kinds of
good things in it, especially the rest of the cake, of
which he had only served up a small slice to his
master. This roused Demos’s wrath to the utmost.
“© villain!” he cried, “and this is the way you
have been cheating me.”

B. “I stole for my country’s good.”

D. “For your country’s good indeed! Take
away his crown.”
THE KNIGATS. 55

Bluster, seeing that it was all qver with him, took
it off with a pathetic farewell : —

“Farewell, my crown, farewell! I yield thee up
‘Unwilling. Some new lord shall wear thee now,
One not more thievish but more fortunate.”?

S.-s. “O Zeus of Hellas, thine the victory!”

And now it turned out that Demos had indeed
made a most fortunate choice in his new favourite.
The sausage-seller retired with his master, and after
a short interval appeared again, crying, “Silence!
Have done with your litigation; close the courts; I
bring good news.”

&n. “Oh, glory of Athens, the holy, and help of our island
: allies,
For what happy event, thro’ our streets, shall the
steam of our sacrifice rise?”
Sis. “I have given new youth to our Demos; I have
made him all lovely and fair.”
&An. “O deviser of wondrous devices, now where may we
see him, O where?”
Sis. “Tis the Athens of old where he dwelleth, the city
, with violets crowned.”
kn. “Oh, say how arrayed, with what aspect, henceforth
shall our Demos be found?”
S.-s. “You shall see him again in his beauty, as he was
when he sat at the board
Of old with the just Aristides and Miltiades, Mara-
thon’s lord.”

1A parody on the farewell which the dying Alcestis takes of her
marriage chamber.

Farewell; another wife shall own thee now, -
Some wife not purer but more fortunate.
56 ARISTOPHANES,

And so indeed it was. The old man came forward,
changed to a handsome youth, and wearing in his
hair the old-fashioned ornament of the grasshopper,
symbol of the antiquity of the Athenian race. Nota
little ashamed was he when his new adviser reminded
him of the follies of the past; how he would listen
to any unprincipled politician that proclaimed him-
self his friend; how he would spend the public
money, not in equipping fleets, but in feeing the
jurymen. But he is resolved to be wiser in the
future. Orators who appeal to his selfish fears shall
be tossed headlong into the pit.! The seamen shall
have all their pay the very moment of their return
to port. No one whose name stands on the roll for
military service shall be permitted to evade the obli-
gation.

“And now,” said the new minister, when he had
heard all these good resolutions, “see what I have
got for you !”

And he led out the lovely figure of Peace.

“Where did you find her?” cried Demos.

“ Bluster hid her away in his house,” replied the
minister, “that you might not catch sight of her.
Take her; she is yours; and live henceforth in the
country home where you are always so happy.”

1The “barathron,” into which criminals were hurled. We may
compare the Tarpeian rock and the Tullianum at Rome,
III.
PEACE.

An interval of four years separated the production of the Acharnians
from that of the play with which I am now dealing.

The successes achieved by Athens in the years 427-5 B.C., especially
the capture of the Spartan garrison of Pylos,—an event to which fre-
quent allusions are made in the Avéghis, — were succeeded in 423 by
great disasters. The Athenians had long coveted the fertile country of
their Boeotian neighbours, a country widely different from their own
barren though picturesque and attractive land. They had once as-
serted their supremacy over it, and had maintained it for seven years,
till dispossessed by the disastrous defeat of Coronea in B.C. 440. And
now, again encouraged by a sense of immunity from invasion, — they
had threatened to put all their prisoners to death if a Spartan army
should again cross their frontiers, — they attempted to renew it. Their
hopes were again crushed. The whole military force of the city, except
a few small detachments that were serving elsewhere, was routed by
the Boeotians at Delium. Another defeat, even more serious, at least
as threatening more widely reaching consequences, followed. The
reverse at Delium did nothing more than convince the Athenians that
certain hopes which they had long entertained must be abandoned for-
ever; but the losses which were sustained in the following year in
Thrace deprived them of possessions which they had long regarded as
their own, and threatened to bring down their whole empire in -ruin,
Brasidas, probably the ablest man that Sparta ever produced, succeeded,
by a remarkable combination of military skill and attractive personal
character, in detaching from Athens some of its most important de-
pendencies on the northwest coast of the A®gean. Amphipolis and
other cities of Thrace were now in the hands of the Spartans. Athens
made a great effort to stay the tide of Spartan victory, despatching the
largest force she could raise to attempt the recapture of Amphipolis.
The effort failed totally and even disgracefully; the Athenian forces

57
58 ARISTOPHANES.,

were routed under the walls of that city, routed almost without
making a struggle.

But this disaster had its compensations. The Spartans lost but eight
killed in the battle, but among the eight was Brasidas; and Brasidas
was not only a very able soldier, but he was vehemently opposed to
peace. Among the slain on the Athenian side was Cleon, the noto-
rious leader of the war party. And now came the triumph of the peace
party in the two states. Aristophanes, conscious that he had the ma-
jority of his fellow-citizens on his side, again did his best to promote -
his favourite object. The Peace was exhibited in January, 321. About
three months afterwards peace for the period of fifty years was made,
and, a few days later, an alliance, offensive and defensive, between Sparta
and Athens was concluded. (This is known in history as the ‘ Peace
of Nicias.”)

“Now, my man,” said the steward of Trygzeus
the Athenian to one of the under-slaves, ‘“ bring
another cake for the beast.” With much grumbling
the man obeyed, and fetched first one, then another,
and then, again, several more, till the creature was
satisfied. ; ;

But what was the beast? Nothing less than an
enormously large dung-beetle which Trygeeus had
contriyed to catch, and which he kept in one of the
courts of his house, and was feeding up till it should
grow big enough and strong enough to help him in
carrying out a certain purpose of his. The fact was,
that Trygeus, like many another Athenian citizen,
was heartily sick of the war, and had got the idea
into his head that, if he could contrive to get up to
the palace of Zeus, he might persuade the god to
fulfil his wish, which was, to put it shortly, to secure
Peace, —long-banished, long-desired Peace. His first
PEACE. 59

plan was to get some very thin scaling-ladders made,
and to scramble up to heaven by means of them.
Unfortunately they. broke, and brought him down
with them to the ground. After this he got the
beetle, and proposed to fly on its back up to. the
sky.

The animal having finished its meal, Trygzeus
mounted on its back, and was preparing to start, first
giving his steed sundry cautions not to set off at too
great a pace, or to put itself out of breath. The
steward entreated his master to give up the idea,
and after vainly endeavouring forcibly to stop him,
called to the old gentleman’s daughter to come and
help him. Accordingly the girl came running out of
the house into the court-yard, where Trygzeus, who
had now risen some way from the ground, was pre-
paring to fly off. “Father,” she said, “surely it
isn’t true that you are thinking of leaving us and
going to the crows?! Tell me the truth, if you love
me
Trygeus. “Yes, it is true. The fact is, that I
can’t bear to hear you poor creatures saying to me,
‘Papa, give us some bread,’ when I haven’t got a
stiver of money in the house to buy it with. Only
let me succeed in this plan of mine, and I will give
you, not only bread, but the biggest buns that you
ever saw.”

”

1 «Going to the crows” was the Greek equivalent for our “ going
to the dogs,” as a proverbial expression for going to ruin,
60 ARIST OPHANES.

Girl. “But, deat papa, how are you going? Ships
can’t carry, you.” re

ZY. “T have got a winged horse, None of your
sea-voyages for me.”

G. “What! a beetle, papa? How can you get to
heaven on a beetle?”

T. “Tis the only living creature that ever got to
heaven; so A¢sop tells us.”

'G. “Oh, it’s past all believing, that such a nasty,
creeping creature should get so far!”

T. “Yes; but it did, when it went to break the
eagle’s eggs.” ?

G. ‘But why not mount Pegasus?”

7. “Far too expensive to feed, my dear.”

G. “Well, if you must go, take care you don’t fall
off. If you should, the fall would be sure to lame
you, and then Euripides would make you the hero of
one of his tragedies. Think of that!’’?

T. “Vl see to that. Good by, my dear.”

Finally, not without running many risks, chiefly
from the animal’s inclination to descend in search of
its favourite food, the rider reached his destination,

1 Aisop’s fable, according to the scholiasts (it is not found in the
existing fables ascribed to him), was this: The eagle carried off the
young beetles; thereupon the beetle flew to the eagle’s nest and
pushed the young birds out ‘of it. The eagle went to Zeus to com-
plain, who bade the bird build again in hissown bosom. But when it
had done so, and laid more eggs, the beetle came buzzing about the
god’s ears, and he, jumping up to scare it away, dropped and broke
the eggs.

2 For this compare the Acharnians,
PEACE. 61

and found himself outside the celestial palace. He
at once called loudly for admittance. Hermes, who
was acting as porter, opened accordingly, and was
not a little astonished and disgusted at what he saw.
“What is this?” he said. “A beetle-horse,” said the
visitor. “Away with you, then, you and your beetle-
horse,” cried the god. Trygzeus, however, had come
prepared to overcome this obstacle, and made his
peace with a piece of flesh that he had brought with
him. “And now,” said he, “step in, and tell Zeus
that I want to see him.”
Hermes. “Oh! that’s impossible. You can’t see
the gods; they are gone to the seventh heaven.”
T. “But how come you to be here, then?”
H. “Oh, they left me to look after a few little mat-
ters, pots and pans, and so forth, that they left here.”
Z. “But why did they go away?”
ff, “Because they were displeased with the
Greeks. That is why they went away, and left War
‘settled here for good.’ He is to do what he likes
with you. They are not going to look at you with
‘your everlasting fightings any more.”
T. “Oh, but why is this? What have we done?”
H. “When they wanted Peace, you were always
for War. First the Spartans would get a little the
better of the fight, and then it was, ‘These Athenian
rascals shall suffer for it’ Then you had a turn of
luck, and it was, ‘No, no, we won’t listen; as long
-as we keep Pylos, we shall always have them on
their knees.’”
62 ARISTOPHANES.

T. “Yes, yes; that is exactly what we said.”

Ao. “The end, of it al is that yous will peeb ayy
never see Peace again.”

T. “What? Where is she gone, then?”

H. “War has thrown her into a deep pit.”

ZT. “What pit?”

_H. “The one you see down there. Just look at
the heap of stones he has piled on the top to prevent
you from getting her out.”

T. “And what does he mean to do with us?”

H. “That I can’t say. I only know that last
night he brought a monstrously large mortar into the
house.”

T. “What can he want with a mortar! » %

H. “He is thinking of pounding the cities up in
it. But I must be going. I hear him making a
noise inside, and I think that he is coming out.”

The next moment, War, a fully armed figure, with
a great nodding plume, came out of the palace of the
gods, carrying in his hands a huge mortar, and mut-
tering, as he went, about a bad time coming for men.
He set the mortar on the ground, and began throw-
ing in the ingredients for a salad. First came leeks.
“Yow'll be nicely pounded up, my friends,” said he,
as he threw them in.!

1The. joke cannot be translated. The explanation is this: The
Greek word for a leek is gvason. War accordingly throws in a town
called Prasie. This was on the Spartan coast, and had been taken by
Pericles early in the war. Hence the remark of Trygzeus that follows.
PEACE. 63.

“That doesn’t matter to us,” said Trygzeus; “that’s
a blow for our friends the Spartans.”

Garlic followed.

“That’s a bad lookout for Megara,” was Trygzeus’s
comment. :

After garlic came cheese.

Trygeeus rubbed his hands. “ Now for the Sicili-
ans,” he said.t ae

But the next ingredient did not find him so indif-
ferent. It was honey, actual Attic honey from
Hymettus.

“Hold!” he cried; “none of that. That costs
sixpence a pound.”

“Now,” said War to his boy Hubbub, dealing him ©
at the samé time a sharp rap on the knuckles, “ bring
me a pestle.”

‘We haven’t got one, master,” said Hubbub. “We
moved in only yesterday.”

War. “Then run and borrow one from Athens.”

fTubbub. “Tm off, or I shall catch it.”

“This is a terrible thing,” said Trygzeus. “If that
varlet brings back a pestle, there’ll soon be nothing
left of our cities.” *

In a short time Hubbub returned. The Athenian
pestle had been lost.2

1 Megara was famous for its garlic, and Sicily for its cheese.

? The Athenian pestle, as has been explained in the introduction,
was Cleon, one of the chief advocates of the war ; the Spartan pestle,
of course, was Brasidas, }
64 5 ARIST OPHANES.

W. “Then fetch the Spartan pestle, and be quick
about it.”

T. “This is an anxious moment.”

In a short time Hubbub returned empty-handed,
and in a great state of dismay.

W. “How now? Why haven’t you brought it?”

H. “The Spartan pestle is lost, master.”

W. “How is that, you rascal ?”

H. “They sent it to some folk somewhere Thrace-
way,! and they lost it.”

T. “And they did quite right, too. By the great
Twin-brethren, all may be. well yet!”

W. “Hubbub, take the things indoors. I will
make another pestle for myself.”

Overjoyed to see War depart, Trygeeus shouted
out, calling on all Greeks to take the opportunity of
ridding themselves of their troubles by pulling Peace
out of the cave in which she had been imprisoned.

A miscellaneous crowd of husbandmen, natives
and foreigners, dwellers in the islands and dwellers
on the mainland, answered to the call, and came
hurrying in, furnished with crowbars and ropes, and
loudly expressing their delight at accomplishing the
* rescue of Peace, best and greatest of goddesses.

“Hush!” cried Trygzeus; “make less noise, or
you'll rouse War, who is indoors there.”

Husbandmen. “Oh, we were so glad to hear your

1 Brasidas, as has been stated in the introduction, was killed at
Amphipolis in Thrace,
PEACE, 65

proclamation! So different it was from that hate-
-ful ‘Come with three days’ rations apiece !’”

T. “Yes; but remember Cerberus down there.
With his blustering and barking he may do what he
did when he was up here, and hinder us from drag-
ging the lovely goddess out.of her cave.”

ffus. “Winder us! Nothing shall tear her from
us, if we only once get hold of her.”

T. “TI tell you that you'll be the ruin of the whole
business with your dancing and singing. Why can’t
you keep your tongues and your feet still?”

The husbandmen protested that they could not
help themselves. Their legs would dance whether
they wished or not. All Trygeeus’s cautions and
exhortations were in vain. They begged for only
one more turn with the right leg, and when this
was granted, for only one turn with the left, and
wound up with a vigorous movement of both.
“Wait,” cried Trygeus, “ till you’ve got her safe.
Then you may really rejoice.” So delighted was
he with the prospect that he broke out into a
song :—

‘* Oh, then you'll have time to laugh and to shout,
To stop in your homes, or go sailing about,
To feast and to sleep and the £ottabos? play,
To be merry all night, and be merry all day.”

1 A favourite game among the Greeks. ‘There were various forms
of it, the most easily described being one in which the object of the
players was to sink a number of little saucers that were floating about
in a bowl of water by throwing wine into them from a distance,
66 ARIS TOPHANES.

The husbandmen replied with another : --.

“O thrice blessed day ! may I see it at last !
I’ve had trouble enough in the time that is past !
No more will you see me so stern and severe,
But tender and younger by many a year,
When our troubles are gone, and no more we appear
Day by day on parade with a shield and a spear.
Only tell us our work, and we’ll do what we can,
For you are our master, most fortunate man.”

Trygzeus then began to inspect the stones that
covered the pit in which Peace was immured, and
to consider the best way of moving them. At this
moment Hermes appeared, and loudly protested
against the daring deed on which they were about
to venture. Trygzeus and his friends entreated him
not to betray them. At first he absolutely refused
to listen. The death penalty had been proclaimed
by Zeus against all that presumed to dig in that
place, and he could not but denounce the offenders.
Prayers seemed in vain till Trygzeus bethought him
of working upon his fears. “I'll tell you,” said he,
“about a great and dreadful secret, no less than a
plot against the gods.”

Flermes. “Go on; you may say something worth
hearing.”

T. “Well; it is this. The Moon and that ter-
rible rascal the Sun have been plotting against you
now for many years; they are intending, in short, to
betray Greece to the barbarians,”
PEACE, . 67

H. “But why are they doing this?”

T. “Why? Because while we sacrifice to you,
the barbarians sacrifice to them: so, of course, they
want to get us out of the way, and then they will
get all the sacrifices themselves.”

H. “Oh! I see; and that, I suppose, isthe reason
why they have been filching part of our days, and
nibbling off bits from their rounds.” 4

T. “Just so, my dear Hermes; so lend us a hand,
and help to pull Peace out of the cave; and it is to
you that we'll keep all the great feasts, — the feast
of Athené, the feast. of Zeus, and the feast of:
Adonis, and all the rest of them. Yes; all the cities
will sacrifice to you as Hermes the Saviour. And
here, my dear Hermes, by way of earnest, is a gold
cup.” (Produces a gold citp.)

_ Hf. “Dear me! how very pitiful the sight of the
gold makes me. Now, my men, it is for you to do
the rest. Up with your shovels, and work away.”

T. But let us first do our duty to the gods.
Hermes, hold out the cup, and we’ll begin with liba-
tions and prayers.”

ff, “Silence for the libation!”

I. “T pour and pray. Let this glad morn begiri

All joy to Greece; and he who lends to-day
A willing hand ne’er carry shield again.”

1 Among the terrors and calamities which preceded and accom-
panied the Peloponnesian war, Thucydides (1.23) mentions “ eclipses
of the sun more frequent than had ever been recorded before.” One
of these happened in the first year of the war (August 3, 431), and
another in the eleventh (March 21, 421).
68 ARISTOPHANES.

flus. “Yea, let him spend his days in peace, and sit,
His wife beside him, by a blazing hearth.”
“If any armourer, who would sell his arms,
Love battle more than peace, a curse upon him ! 1
ffus. “And whoso, greedy for a general’s pay,
Holds back and helps us not, a curse upon him !”
L, “ Again I pour to Hermes, to the Hours,
The sister Graces, and the Queen of Love,
And fond Desire.”
fTus. “And shall we say to Ares ?”
7. “To Ares? Heaven forbid it! Name him not.”
(Spits on the ground in disgust.)

sy

This ceremony ended, all set to work, and pulled
away at the rope with which the prisoners, that is, ~
Peace and her attendants, were to be hauled out of
their dungeon. Hermes encouraged them, and Try-
geeus watched to see that none shirked their task.
This, indeed, he soon found some inclined to do.
The Boeotians’ were very lukewarm, and made only
a show of working. Then some of his own country-
men, such as Lamachus,? did nothing but get in the
way, while the men of Argos made no effort at all,
but laughed at both sides, and took their profit from
each. As for the men of Megara, they seemed eager

1 The Boeotians were not anxious for peace. They had suffered
little by the war, and they had gained great’ credit by the crushing
defeat which they had inflicted on the Athenian army at Delium.
As a matter of fact, they refused to join in the Peace of Nicias,
and would do nothing more than make a truce of indefinite length,
which might be terminated at ten days’ notice, with their Athenian

neighbours,
2 The General Dobattle of the Charcoal-burners.

PEACE. 69

enough, but they were so weak with hunger that
they gave no help. Sometimes it seemed as if no
progress was being made. Still the work went on,
and at last, with a long pull, and a strong pull, and
a pull all together, the thing was done. Peace, with
her two handmaids, Harvest-home and Mayfair, was
lifted out of the pit. Trygzeus was almost beside
himself with delight. “Welcome, mighty mother of
vintages!” he cried, “ welcome, Harvest-home! wel-
come, Mayfair! O Mayfair, what a lovely face you
have! and how sweet your breath! what a_per-
fume!”

fT. “Not the smell of a knapsack, eh?”

f. “A knapsack indeed! No such abomination as
that, but a fragrance of harvests, and feasts, and
flutes, and thrushes, and bleating of lambs, and
empty flasks, and all kinds of good things,”

Then he burst out into song again : —

“Oh, think of the pleasures
Peace gave us of yore,
Of her sweet country treasures,
Her bountiful store;
Of the figs, and the vine,
And the olives divine,
And the myrtle-tree growing,
And violets blowing,
Where fountains were flowing.
These are the joys for which long we've been yearning,
For these we will welcome the goddess returning.”
lus. “Welcome, welcome, once more !
70 , ARISTOPHANES.

We have longed for thee sore.
Still desiring again,
With a passionate pain,
In the sweet country-side
Of our farms to abide,
We who follow the trade
Of the tillers of land,
For our labours are paid
By the gifts of thy hand.
Not a flower, not a fruit,
Not a tender young shoot
Of the fig or the vine,
: But will fondly combine
Through the length and the breadth of our country to greet
The thrice welcome sound of thy home-coming feet.”

“Now,” said Hermes to the husbandmen, “I will
explain to you the cause of all the mischief. Phidias
began it by getting into trouble. Then Pericles, fear-
ing lest he should be involved with him, and knowing
your fierce temper, set the city in a blaze by his
decree against Megara! The smoke of that burning

1This has been mentioned in the Charcoal-burners. The first
charge brought against Phidias was that he had embezzled some of the
gold that was to be used for the statue of Athené. This he disproved
by weighing the metal, and showing that the quantity was correct.
Then he was accused of having introduced likenesses of himself and
Pericles into the battle-scene pictured on the shield of Athené. This
could not be denied, and the sculptor was thrown into prison, where he
died. That these attacks on Phidias were made by enemies of Peri-
cles, and with the idea of vexing and injuring him, is quite clear.
That they influenced him in his policy of encouraging Athens to resist
the Spartan demands, and so bringing on the Peloponnesian war, is
another matter. It is stated by Diodorus Siculus and by Plutarch.
But the causes of great political events are not to be found in personal
matters of this kind.
PEACE, 71

drew tears from every eye in Greece. Not a vine
there was but groaned when it heard it, not a cask
but dashed itself against its neighbour. There was
nobody to stop the uproar, and Peace disappeared.
Then the subject cities, when they saw you snarling
at each other, thought that they could get rid of their
tribute, and bribed the great people at Sparta to help
them; so there was trouble abroad and trouble at
home, and the greatest mischiefmaker of all was a
certain tanner.”

Z. “Say no more about him, my dear Hermes; let
him rest where he is; he is one of your people now.
But, my dear lady (urning to Peace), why so silent?”

ff, “She has been too much wronged to forgive
easily.”

(Peace, it should be said, was represented by a
colossal statue with a head which could turn round.
Hermes speaks to her and affects to listen to her
answers.)

#7, “Dearest lady, tell me your thought. Ah!
that is it, is it? She says that when she came, after
that affair at Pylos, with a chest full of treaties, she
was thrice rejected in full assembly.”

L. “So she was; but our wits were covered up
with hides in those days.”

fl. “She wants to know who among you loves
Peace and hates War most.”

L. “Cleonymus, of course.”

ff, “What about him?”
72 ARISTOPHANES.

I. “He is not the son of the man whom he
calls his father, and when he goes to battle, he
throws away his shield and runs! away.”

ff, “ Peace wants to know who is the first man in
the Assembly now?”

I. “ Hyperbolus,? of course. But, dear lady, why
so disgusted ?”

fT, “She is disgusted with the people for aieoane
such a leader.”

L. “Oh! he is only a make-shift. And besides,
we thought that, as we were all groping in the dark,
he might throw a little light on affairs. ee

ff, “How so?”

f. “Because he makes lamps.”

ff, “She wants to know whether witty old Crati-
nus? is alive.

I. “No, poor fellow, he died when the Spartans
invaded us. He saw a butt of wine staved in, and
it broke his heart to see so much good liquor
wasted.”

In the end it was arranged that Trygzus should
return home with Peace and her two handmaids, one

1 Cleonymus, probably a political opponent of the poet, is continu-
ally attacked by him on account of alleged cowardice. Nothing is
known of the circumstances.

2 The successor of Cleon, and according to Thucydides, a worthless
fellow.

3 Cratinus, a writer of comedies, and one of the most formidable
rivals of Aristophanes, was probably alive at the time. We find
frequent jests at his fondness for wine.
PEACE. 73

of whom, Harvest-home, he should have for his own
wife. He accordingly, after taking an affectionate
leave of Hermes, called for the beetle. The beetle,
however, was not available, having been harnessed
to the car of Zeus; and Trygzus and his charges
descended to earth by a staircase, which Hermes
pointed out to him. “Dear me!” he said, when he
felt his feet on firm ground again, “what a business
it was to.get up to the gods! How my legs ache!
And how small you looked,” he went on, speaking to
the slaves, who had assembled to greet him, “from
up there! I thought you seemed a bad lot, when
‘I looked down on you, but now I see you closer,
I find you very much worse.”

A servant. “What have you got, master?”

Lf. “Got? A pain in my legs from travelling SO
far.”

S. “And did you see anybody else as
about up there?”

©. “Only a minor poet or two.”

S. “And is it true that when we die we. are
turned into stars?”

I. “Of course it is.”

S. “What are the shooting stars, then?”

Y. “Rich stars going from dinner with lighted
lanterns in their hands. But take the young lady;
let her have a bath, and be dressed for our wedding.
She is to be my bride.”

S. “And is she to have anything to eat?”
74 ARISTOPHANES.

- I. “Toeat? No. She can’t eat our food; she’s
used to ambrosia.” ,
Harvest-home being thus disposed of, Trygzeus
proceeded to make a sacrifice to Peace, to whom
he and his servant, assisted by the husbandmen,
addressed an ode of praise and thanksgiving : —

“For thirteen long years we have longed to behold you,
And now you are come we will steadfastly hold you.
When our fightings are stayed and our tumults allayed,
We will call you in future the war-ending maid;

We beseech thee to end all the whispers of doubt,
All the clever suspicions we bandy about,

All the Greeks with the solder of friendship to bind,
Breathing into them thoughts that are honest and kind.”

While the sacrifice was going on, a soothsayer
approached, crowned with laurel, after the manner
of his profession. Trygeeus thought that he was
going to interfere with the ratification of the treaties
of Peace; the servant, on the other hand, believed
that he was attracted by the smell of the meat.
Both turned out to be right, in a way. The sooth-
sayer did wish to have a finger in the pie, and made
sundry suggestions as to the treaties, which would
be repaid, he hoped, by an invitation to share in the
feast. But as his advances were rejected with very
scant courtesy, he proceeded to quote prophecy after
prophecy, foretelling a disastrous end to the pro-
ceeding. Trygzeus, however, had an answer ready
to all his sinister suggestions, and when finally asked
PEACE. 78

to produce the prophecy in reliance on which he
had himself been acting, he bravely replied with
what was wanted. It came from Homer, he said,
but of course it was an impromptu of his own.

“When the sons of Greece had driven lowering clouds of war
away,

Lovely Peace they gladly welcomed, making feast and holy day.

Flesh from thigh-bones duly burning, tasting duly, as is meet,

Savoury morsels from the inwards, pouring out libations sweet.

I, whom now you see before you, I the holy rites began,

But with bright gold goblet no one blessed the prophesying
man.”

Soothsayer. “Strange the words that thou hast
uttered; not the Sibyl’s speech, are they?”

I. “Strange they may be, yet full wisely did the
mighty Homer say: —

“He who loves the savage strife that severs men of kindred
race,

Motherhood he scorns and custom and the home life’s kindly
face.”

The soothsayer continued to interrupt and intrude,
and in the end Trygzeus and his servants drove him
away. The sacrifice ended, it became time to lay
out the wedding-supper, at which it was soon evident
there would be no lack of guests. Trygeus took
his helmet, and pulling out the crest, handed it to
the servant, with the remark that, as he had no more
use for it, it had better be used for wiping down
the tables. While this was being done, a sickle-
76 ARISTOPHANES.

maker and a cooper made their appearance. Both
were in the highest spirits. The first had sold
sickles, for which for years past no one would give a
farthing,- for a couple of pounds; the latter had
disposed of a lot of casks for country use at half-a-
crown each. They offered Trygeeus as many of
both articles as he wanted, and gave him some
money, too, by way of wedding present. The bride-
groom invited them in to take part in the feast. The
next moment a maker of crests appeared. He was
as much depressed as the others had been elated.
“What is the matter?” said the bridegroom, “A
surfeit of crests? eh?”— “You have ruined my
trade,” replied the man; “and my neighbout’s, too,
who burnishes. spears.”

I. “Well, what shall I give you for these two
crests?”’.

Crest-maker. “What will you give?”

LY. “T hardly like to say. Well, as there is a
good deal of work about them, say three quarts of
raisins for the pair. They'll do to wipe my tables
with.” i

C.-m. “Fetch the raisins; better that than nothing.”

LT: (handling them, when they came to pieces), “Take
the rotten things away. The hairs are all coming
out. Nota single raisin for the pair.”

An armourer now appeared on the scene with a
breastplate, which had cost, he said, forty pounds.
Trygeeus offered to buy it for a pan, but found it
PEACE. 77

unsuitable, and packed the man off. A trumpeter
followed, wanting to sell a trumpet, which had cost
him, he said, two pounds ten. Trygzeus could only
suggest that he should fill it with lead, fasten a pair
of scales at the-top, and use it for weighing out
rations of figs for the labourers at the farm. A
helmet-maker was advised to take his helmets, which
had cost him, he said, four pounds, to Egypt, where
they might be used to measure medicines with, while
the man that burnished spears had an offer made
to him that if he would lop off the heads, and saw
the shafts in two, Trygzeus would buy them for vine
poles, at twelve a penny. The men went off greatly
insulted. Trygeeus now espied some singing boys,
whom the guests had brought with them by way of
contribution to the feast. “ Come,” he said to one
of them, “stand here by me, and let me hear you
practise what you are going to sing.”

The boy began : —

“Sing of heroes, sing the younger.”

T. “None of that, boy; have done with your
heroes. -There is. peace, and I want to hear nothing
about them.” 4

1The word that excited Trygzeus’s wrath was that which stands for
“younger.” This is hoploteroi. It reminded him of hopla, the word
for arms, and the association of ideas is odious to him. The words
which the boy sings are the beginning of one of the poems of what is
called the epic cycle (poems relating in heroic verse the events begin-
ning with the Voyage of the Argo and ending with the Capture of
Thebes). This last was the subject of the LEpigont.
78 ARISTOPHANES,
Boy (singing again).

‘‘When the armies met together, marching slow across the
field,
Loudly buckler dashed on buckler, loudly round-bossed
shield on shield.” :

T. “Buckler! Boy, how dare you talk about buck-
lers?”

Boy (singing).
‘“‘Vaunts of victors, groans of dying, rose together to the

sky.”

7. “Say another word about ‘groans of dying’
and you shall repent it.”

Boy. “But what am I to sing? Tell me the sort
of songs you like.”

ZT. “Then on flesh of beeves they feasted, —

something of that sort.”
Boy (singing).
“Then on flesh of beeves they feasted, first from off their
sweating steeds

Loosing chariot yoke and traces, wearied sore of warlike
deeds.”

T. “That’s good. They had had enough of war,
and then feasted. Sing again of how they had had
enough and feasted.”

Boy (singing).

“Rested well they called for casques.”
PEACE, 79

T. “Yes, called for casks,! and very glad to do it.”

Boy (singing).

“From the towers and walls descending rushed. they to the
fight again,

Till once more the roar of battle rose unceasing from the

plain.”

I. “Confound you, boy, you and your battles!
You-can’t sing of anything but war. Who is your
father?”

Boy, “Lamachus.”

ZY. “Ah! I thought when I heard you that you
must be the son of some swash-buckler. Go and
sing to the spearmen. Where is the son of Cleony-
mus? Here, sing us something before we go in.
You won't sing of such things. Your father has too
much of the better part of valour.”

Second boy (singing).

“Some foeman I doubt not is proud of the shield,
_ The shield without blot that I left on the field.”

L. “Good boy! Are you singing about your
father?”

Sec. boy. “ But I saved my own life.”

7. “And your parents you shamed. But go in,
my boy. If you are your father’s son, you won’t for-

1The joke in the Greek is a play on a word which may mean “ put
on their breastplates,” but which might be used to signify “ fortified
themselves with liquor.” I am indebted for the English equivalent to

Mr. B. B. Rogers; but I remember to have seen the pun in Mr. James
Hannay’s “ Singleton Fontenoy.”
80 ARISTOPHANES,

get about the shield, I fancy. And you, my friends,
set to; there is plenty for all, and there is no good in
having fine teeth if you don’t use them.”

Hus. “We will do our duty; but you were quite
right to mention it.”

Tf. “Set to; or you will be sorry for it some day.”

Aus. “Now it’s time that the bride and the torches you
bring ;

And those that come with her shall dance and shall sing ;
And we'll pray to the gods to give plenty and peace
Forever henceforth to the children of Greece ;
Their fruit in abundance our fig-trees shall yield,
With the yard full of wine and of barley the field ;
With sons and with daughters our homes shall abound;
By the sidé of our hearth shall the blessings be found,
That of late we have lost, though we had them before,
And the name of the sword shall be heard of no more.”
Iv.

THE WASPS.

Frequent reference is made in the plays of Aristophanes to the judi-
cial system of Athens. The body of judges or jurymen—the second term
is, on the whole, more descriptive of them than the first — consisted
of six thousand citizens, chosen by lot out of the whole number.
These six thousand were divided into ten bodies of five hundred each,
who sat in different courts, dealing with different kinds of cases. The
thousand that remained over were called upon to supply vacancies.
Sometimes part only of a section would sit; sometimes two or more
sections were combined. On very important occasions, it is said, the
whole body was assembled. Each juryman received three odo, or
half a drachma, as a fee for his attendance; this sum having been
increased, according to some authorities, by Cleon, The poet in this
drama directs his satire against the characteristic faults of the courts
thus constituted, faults which may be summed up in the phrase, “ want
of a judicial temper.” ;

The Wasps was exhibited in the early part of 422 B.c., when
Cleon was at the height of his power. A few months later he was
killed. (See introduction to the Peace.)

THERE was an old gentleman at Athens who was
afflicted with a very strange disease. It was a pas-
sion, not for the things that some of his contempo-
raries were devoted to, as drinking or gaming, but
for the law courts. He was never happy except
he was serving on a jury and trying acase. Such a
hold had this passion got upon him that he could
not sleep at night for thinking of his favourite em-

8x
6
82 ARISTOPHANES.

ployment, and if he ever did doze off for a moment
his soul seemed to flutter about the clock! by which
the advocates’ speeches were timed. When he got
up in the morning, he always put his thumb and
two fingers together exactly as if he were holding a
voting pebble in them; and if-a lover had written
onthe walls, a oh
Pretty, pretty Goldilocks,

he would write underneath,

: Pretty, pretty Ballotbox.

When a cock happened to crow in the evening he
would cry ::“ That cock has been bribed to be late in
waking me by some officials who don’t like the idea
of giving in their accounts.” Supper was hardly
over before he clamoured for his shoes; and before
dawn he was off to the court, and went to sleep
leaning against the pillar on which the notices were .
posted up. And when he was sitting, he was always
for severity. It was always the longest sentence
that pleased him most.2 So afraid was he that

1 A water-clock, or clepsydra; the water occupied a certain time in
running out, and a larger or smaller clepsydra, or, it may be, a clep-
sydra filled so many times, was granted to the speakers according to
the nature and importance of the case.

2 Commonly, in an Athenian court, when a verdict had been given,
and (supposing that the prisoner had been found guilty) sentence had
to be passed, the prosecutor would first name the penalty which he
thought fit to meet the case, or which seemed to him such as the jury
would probably accept;~ and then ‘the prisoner, on the. other hand,
named some other punishment, as much milder as he could venture
- THE WASPS. . 83

he might perchance not “have a~pebble to vote with
that he kept’a private beach in his own House.

‘The old gentleman’s name ‘was’ Philocleon’;! and
father’s Ways. ‘At first this son did ‘his bést ‘to per-.
suade the old man to stop-at home. Then he tried
baths and purges; they did no good. Ther he got
him to join the worshippers of Cybele? The old
man rushed into court with a timbrel in his hand,
and took his place as usual. Then he took him
across thé straits to Aigina, and madeé him sleep
‘inside the temple of fésculapius ; but ‘the very next
morning he was standing at’ the court-rail. After
that the only thing’ was to keep the old man at
home.. But he tried’ to gét out through the water-
pipes; when these were stopped up with rags, he
drove perches into the wall and hopped down them
like a jackdaw. Then his son surrounded the house

upon, having regard to the feelings of the court.. (So when Socrates
was found guilty, the prosecutor demanded the death-penalty, while
the accused, after stating that, in his own opinion, he deserved the
highest honours from the state, proposed, in deference to the judgment
of his friends, a small- money fine [£20]. This was. practically a defi-
ance to the court, and ensured the acceptance of the heavier penalty.)
After this the jurors voted-again; those who were for the severer sen-
tence drew a long line on the wax tablet, those -for the lighter a short
one. The old man described in the text always drew a line as long as
he could, and came home with his nails full of wax,

1 The two words mean, respectively, “Cléon- lover” and “Cleon-
loather.” .. -..-- _ -

2 This consisted ue wild orgies, celebrated with music ena anes
dances.

z St ee re Meee Beeradeode
84 ARISTOPHANES.

with nets, putting a couple of slaves in charge of
them. These two watchmen had been keeping
guard all night and had dropped off to ‘sleep, when
they heard the voice of the young master crying out,
“Run, run at once, one of you! my father has got
into the kitchen-flue.” Scarcely had he said this
when he heard a voice from up above, and called
out, “ What’s that noise in the chimney ?”

Philocleon (who was trying to get out that way).
“Only a little smoke escaping.”

Bdelycleon. “Smoke? Of what wood, pray?”

Phil. “ Fig-tree, to be sure.”

del. “The most biting kind there is.” (Zo the
slaves) “Run and clap a stone on the top of the
chimney. You must try some other dodge, my dear
sir.”

Then the old man tried to make his way out by the
door; finding that barred by the slaves, he screamed
out, “I will gnaw the net.”

“But you haven’t any teeth, father,” replied the
son. Then he tried craft. It was market day, and
he wanted to sell the donkey, and he was sure he
would make a better bargain than his son. The son
would not listen. He would take the donkey to mar-
ket himself, and accordingly had the beast driven out.
The creature seemed very loath to move, and Bdely-
cleon addressed it : —

“Why so sad, my ass? Because you are to be
sold to-day? Move a little quicker. Why grunt and
groan, unless you are carrying a new Ulysses?”
THE WASPS. 85

Slave, “ And, by Zeus! there is a fellow hanging
on underneath.”

'- Bdel. “What? Where?”

Slave. ‘“ Here, to be sure.”

Bdel. “Who in the world are you?”

Phil, “No man.”

Bdel. “No man, are you? Where do you come
from?” - a

Phil. “From Ithaca, the son of Runaway.”

Bael. “Well, however you'll not get off in this
way.” (To the slaves)* “ Drag him out.”

The old man accordingly was dragged off, and
pushed inside, and the door was bolted, barred, and
still further fortified by stones and other things piled
up against it. While the slaves were busy about this,
one of them was startled by a clod of earth falling on
his head. Philocleon had mounted on to the roof,
and seemed to be intending to fly off. “Throw the
net over him,” cried his son. This done, the slaves
ventured to suggest that a sleep would be welcome.
Of this, however, their young master would not
hear.

“Sleep!” he cried, “why, his fellow-juryman will

1 Philocleon bethinks him of the device by which Ulysses and his
men had escaped from the cave of the Cyclops. The hero: had tied
his companions under the bellies of rams, and he himself had clung in
the same way to the biggest and strongest. The Cyclops, sitting at the
mouth of the cave, and feeling the animals as they go out, asks this
animal which was accustomed to lead the flock, why it is so long in
coming out. The name “ No man ” is another reminiscence of the story.
86 ALSO MALES:

be here very soon to call for him, and. we shall have
to deal with them.” ‘

“ But, sir,” said the slave, ‘it is only. just ‘twilight. a

— “Ah!” replied Bdelycleon,. “then they are very
late to- eke soon after pee is. their usual time
for coming.” : ;

Slave. “Well, if they do. come, we can asi pe
them with stones.”

Bédel. “Pelt them, indeed! You might as well stir
upa wasps’ nest as anger these old.men.. Every one
of them wears a terrible sting, . and ‘they'd: ‘leap on
you like live coals out of the fire.”

_ Slave. “Don’t be afraid. Give ‘me some > stones,
and I'll scatter their wasps’ nest, be it ever so big.”

Sure enough, before many minutes had passed, the
host of jurymen? appeared, a set of poorly dressed,
hungry looking fellows.. They came slowly on, pick-
ing their way, while their young sons carried lanterns
by their side. They were greatly astonished, on
arriving at Philocleon’s house, to see no trace of
their colleague, and sang a stave, in the hope of
bringing him out :—

“Why doesn’t he greet us in front of his hall? .
Why doesn’t he hear and reply to our call?
Perhaps he has had the misfortune to lose
The only one pair that was left him of shoes;
Or perhaps it may be he has’ injured his toe
1 They were dressed in the play in garments striped with yellow

and black, so as to resemble wasps, and each was furnished with a
formidable looking sting.
e

THE WASPS. 87

With groping about in the dark; such a blow,

When a man is in years, very painful may grow.

He was ever the sharpest and keenest of all;

In vain on his ear all entreaties would fall;

If you sued for his grace, with an obstinate stoop

Of his head, he would mutter, ‘Boil stones into soup.” _

Can it be that, attempting in vain to forget

The fellow who yesterday slipped through our net,

Having cheated us all with detestable lies

About plots he had spied out among our allies,

He has sickened with fever? That's just like our friend.
' But up with you now, for it’s foolish to spend

Your time in these fruitless reproaches. We've got

From Thrace! a fat.traitor to pop.in our.pot.”

Philocleon replied in corresponding strains :—

“Friends, long have I wasted away with my woe,
As I heard through the chimney your voices below; ~
I am helpless; these will not allow me to go
With you as my spirit desires, for I burn
To do some one or other a mischievous turn, .
If I only could get to the balloting urn.?
‘O-Lord of the thunder, I pray that the stroke
OF thy lightning may speedily change me to smoke
Or to stone, if I only the table were made
To which for the counting the votes are conveyed.”

_ 1 At the time when this play was acted, the struggle of Athens to
retain her possessions in Thrace was going on. The meaning of the
original is not that the traitor was a Thracian, or brought from Thrace,
but that he had betrayed the interests of the city in reference to its
Thracian possessions.

2 The urns (one for acquittal, one for condemnation) in which the
jurymen deposited their votes.
88 ARISTOPHANES.

Colleague. “But who is it keeps you shut up, my
friend?” ,

Phil. “My own son. But hush! he is asleep.
Speak softly.”

Coll. “But why? What reason does he give?”

Phil. “He wants to keep me from sitting on juries,
and in fact from doing any mischief. He makes me
comfortable enough, but I won’t give in.”

Coll. “Ah! I see; he’s mixed up in some con-
spiracy, and afraid of what you might find out. But
isn’t there some way of giving him the slip?”

Phil, “How I wish there were! Can you think
of anything?”

Coll, “You might dress yourself up in a beggar’s
rags, as Ulysses did, and creep aut somehow.”

Phil, “There is not a cranny that a gnat could
get through. No, you must think of something
better than that.”

Coll. “Don’t you remember how you stole the
roast meat and let yourself down by the wall, when
we were besieging Naxos?”

Phil, “Ah! but I was a young man then and
could go where I pleased; but now I am old, and,
besides, they watch me too closely.”

Coll. “Well, think of something; for the day is
beginning to break, and time presses.”

Finally Philocleon gnawed through one of the

1 This was in 466 B.c. Naxos had seceded from the Delian Con-
federacy, and the Athenians blockaded and finally took the city.
' THE WASPS. 89

nets with which all the outlets to the house were
secured, and, tying round his: body a rope, the
' other end of which he secured to a bar of the
window, began to let himself down into the street,
imploring his colleagues that if anything should
happen to him —the rope breaking, for instance —
they would pay him due honours, and bury him
under the railings round the judges’ seat. His
friends encouraged him; and the thing was nearly
done, when something chanced to rouse the slumber-
ing Bdelycleon. The old man dropped, indeed, to
the ground, but only to find himself in the hands of
his keepers. In vain he appealed to his son’s sense ~
of filial duty, pathetically reminding him of how,
long ago, catching him stealing grapes, he had tied
him to an olive-tree and thrashed him, to the admira-
tion of all beholders. In vain the old man’s col-
leagues charged in the hope of rescuing him, using
their stings freely. Bdelycleon and his slaves, first
with sticks and then by means of smoke (always a
thing which wasps detest), contrived to repel the
attack, “Tyranny! Tyranny!” cried the assail-
ants, as they found themselves beaten back. Bdely-
cleon suggested compromise ; they would have none
of it. “Tyranny! He’s plotting to set up a
tyranny!” they repeated.

“Ah!” said the young man, “that is what is
always on your tongues now, — Tyranny! Conspir-
acy! You think of nothing else. For instance, I
90 ARIST OPHANES,

go into the fish-market and _buy a bass, and don’t,
buy pilchards.. Immediately the fellow: who is sell-
ing pilchards grumbles, ‘A man who- ‘buys. ‘fish in.
this way must be thinking of being a tyrant.’ Or,
again, I want a leek as sauce to .my anchovies.
What does the girl that sells pot-herbs do but say,
‘Ah! you buy pot-leeks. You would be a tyrant,
I see.’ Now this is the sort of thing that I want
to get my father away from; and as soon as I try,
then immediately I am an aristocrat, a tyrant.”

Phil. “ And quite right, too! Do you think that
I would change those beloved courts for anything
that you could give me? No, not for all the
pigeon’s milk in the world. Skates indeed, and.
eels! No; give mea nice little plea dished up with
petitoager s sauce.’
_ Bdel. “Yes; that’s the thing you have been so
fond of all your life. Still, I. think I can convince
you that you. have been wrong, if you will only sit
still and listen.”

Phil, “ Wrong, do- you say? I wrong to like sit-
ting on juries?”
_ Bdel. “Yes; and scorned and mocked and
cheated by the men you mornp — a slave without
knowing it.”

Phil. “Youcallmea slave? Why, Iam jon of all. 2

. Bdel. “ Not you; you think that you are, but you
are really a servant. Tell me now, father, what
good you get out of your lordship.”
THE WASPS: gt

iPhil., “That. Iwill gladly. .We will argue the
ae, out, and let, there be umpires to. decide. be-
tween us.’ ao

Béel. e ety beat ae (To. the Lusve sf Let nae go.”
; Phil. “ And give me a sword ; if I-am worsted i:
this encounter I will fall upon it, and put an end to
my troubles.”
4 Philocleon, urged. by. His, sil ee to: do his best,
lest their common employment’ should fall into dis-
repute, now proceeded to.expound his view of the
advantages of the juryman’s profession.. “ Our king-
dom,” so ran_his speech, “is inferior to none in.the
world. . There is not a creature more: blest, more
petted, more feared, than the juryman. When I
come trudging from my. bed in the morning there
are big fellows. waiting for me at the bar. As soon
as I come in, a delicate hand, that knows its way, I
warrant you, into’ the public purse, is thrust into
mine. How they bow, and. scrape, and beg, and
pray, lowering their voices to a whine, with a ‘Pity
me, sire, I beseech you, if you have ever made a
little . purse for yourself out of an office or a con-
tract?” So they’ ‘plead; fellows who would never
have | “known that I existed, if they had not been
acquitted before. So I take my seat, in excellent
humour, as every one thinks ; but I never think :
keene any..of the promises that I have made. |
listen to all that they say to —persuade me to aa
them —and_ what, will they not say? Some make a


92 ARISTOPHANES.

moan-over their poverty, — yes, actually try to make
themselves out as badly off as I am; and some tell
me fables, or quote something funny out of AAsop ;
and some banter and jest to make me laugh, to put
me into a good temper. And if this doesn’t move
me, then the man brings his children, boys and girls.
They huddle together, and bleat like so many lambs,
while their father beseeches me to pass his accounts
‘and let him go free And I just let my wrath down
by a peg or two. Then if a player gets into trouble,
he has to give me one of his very best speeches ; and
if a piper wins a suit, he plays us out of court with a
quick march. If a father leaves his daughter and
his fortune.to a friend, what do we care for the will
with its big seal? Nothing at all; we do just what
we please with the girl and her monéy, and there is
nobody to call us to account. Then ‘the government
takes care that we are not overworked. One suit a
day, they say, and then we may go home. Why, we
are the only people whom Cleon does not nibble at

1 Every Athenian official, on reaching the term of his office, had to
submit his accounts to the public auditors. If any objection was made,
the matter in dispute was submitted to the judgment of the courts,
these tribunals being constituted as has been described in the introduc-
tion. The practice of the accused attempting to move the compassion
of his judges by. bringing into court his children is frequently men-
tioned. One quotation will suffice. Socrates, at the conclusion of his
defence as given by Plato, says: “It may be that some one of-you may
be indignant with me when he remembers that he himself, brought
before the court on a less serious charge than this, prayed and besought
the jury with many tears, and exhibited his children,” etc.
THE WASPS. 93

and vex, but sits and keeps guard over us and
brushes off the flies. What do you say to all this,
you who would have it that I was a mere slave and
dupe? ‘And then, what is the most delightful thing
of all, and yet I had almost forgotten it, when I get
home with my day’s pay in my pocket. How glad
they all are to see me! First comes my daughter,
and washes my feet, and anoints them, and kisses
me. ‘Dear papa,’ she says, fishing out the money
with her tongue ever so cleverly, pretty little crea-
ture!. Then my wife is so kind, bringing me a little
pudding she has made, and sitting by me and press-
ing me to eat, with a ‘Do take a little more,’ and
‘Just another helping.’ Oh! it is pleasant.

“As fine as the empire of Zeus is our sway;
And indeed we are greatly alike, for they say,
Great Zeus! what a terrible thunder they make,
When we shout in our wrath,! and they tremble and shake,
Though mighty and rich, when the wrath in our eye
Flashes forth as the lightning that gleams through the sky.”

Bdelycleon now addressed himself to the task of
proving his point, and began by addressing the old
man as “ Son of Chronos, my father.”

Phil. “Don’t try to get round me with ‘father,
father.’ Prove that I am a slave, or you die.”

1 Socrates in the defence (quoted above) says to his judges, “ Do
not make a noize,” when.some remark of his meets with the loudly
expressed disapproval of his judges. ‘The demeanour of the citizens
sitting in court was very much like that of the Public Assembly.
94 ARIST OPHANES.

Bdel. “Very well, dear papa; and don’t look so
stern. Just begin: by reckoning — not exactly, of
course, but roughly and in ‘round: numbers — the
revenue that comes’ in from the subject states. “Add
to this the taxes, and the’ percentages, and the fees,
and the fines, and the silver from the mines, and the
market and harbour dues, and the ‘sales. You will
find the total not far off two thousand talents.) And
now put down the jurymen’s pay, reckoning how
much the six thousand get in a year. Why, it will
not ‘come to much more than a hundred and fifty
talents! And what is that among all the six
thousand ?” ie oa

Phil. “Then our pay is not a tenth part of the
whole revenue?”

Bdel. “ Certainly not.” aa,

Phil. “ Pray tell me, then, where the rest of the
money goes to.” ,

Bdel. “ Why, it goes to the gentlemen who ‘will
never betray the rabble of Athens,’ who ‘ will always

1 The talent valued by weight was worth £ 210 185. g@. (It should
be observed, however, that this amount is arrived at by taking the
price of silver at its coinage value, ze. 5s. per ounce. “Its market
value is much less.) The total would be £ 421,875. What -the pur-
chasing power of this was it is impossible to say; but from the prices
quoted for various articles, “it may be supposed-to be. many: times
greater than the nominal equivalent in modern money. This would
give £5 0s. apiece, possibly equivalent to £ s0,—-a pittance quite
worth struggling: for, but not enough to raise :the recipient above
poverty. It must be supposed that all the courts-(there were ten of.

them) did not: sit évery day: 2-0 sees SUN Eig Becta
THE WASPS.’ 95

fight for the -people.’- And, O father, ’tis all your
fault. It is you who make these men your masters,
cheated by their fine words. And then they get
presents, fifty talents at a‘time, from the allies, by
means of. threats ‘of this: kind, ‘Hand. over the
tribute, or there will be an end of your city!’ And
you are content to gnaw away at the offal, while
they eat the meat. Do you suppose that the allies
are not clever enough to see all this? Of course
they do. When they find you growing lanky and
lean, and your masters round and fat, it is to them
that they bring their presents, —their wine, their
cheeses, their jars of pickle, their pots of honey,
their ‘caps, their mantles, their necklaces, and ‘all
that a°man wants fo be healthy and wealthy. And
you, from all the empire that you have won by toils
on land and toils on sea, you don’t get a head of
garlic to flavour your boiled sprats with.”

Phil. “Quite true; I had to send to the green-
grocer’s yesterday for three heads. But you take
a long time in proving that I am a slave.” oa es

Bdel. “Isn't it slavery when the men in power —.
yes, and their toadies, too — get at the money, and
you are content with your miserable sixpence, —
money that you have earned yourselves on ship-
board, in battles, and in sieges. Doesn’t some
young fop come and bid you attend at the court
betimes? ‘Don’t you lose your sixpence if you are
late, while he comes: whenever he may choose and
96 ARISTOPHANES,

pockets his shilling? And then if there’s a bite
going, do you get it? Not you; it goes to him and
his partner. They work it between them, like two
men at a saw, one pulling and one giving way.”

Phil. “Ts that what they do? This is terrible
hearing.”

Bdel. “ Think how rich you might be, if it wasn’t
for these demagogues, — you, the master of I know
not how many cities from the Black Sea to Sar-
dinia, — and they dole you out this miserable pit-
tance, just as if they were dropping oil from wool.
The fact is, that they want you to be poor, and I'll
tell you why. You must know your feeder’s hand ;
and then if he sets you on any one that he wants
to bring down, you fly at the wretch like a wild
beast. Now listen to me. There are a thousand
cities that are subject to us and pay us tribute.
Allot twenty Athenian citizens to each to feed.
Then you have twenty thousand citizens living like
princes on hare and cream andall good things, with
garlands on their heads, just as the men deserve to
live who won the great fight at Marathon.”

Coll, ‘Well, that was a wise man who said, ‘ Don’t
decide till you have heard both sides.’ Bdelycleon,
you have gained the day.

‘‘And you, my old friend, you had better give in,
And be stubborn no more. If my own kith and kin
Would befriend me like this, oh, how thankful I'd be!
Some god, it is plain, sends this fortune to thee.”
THE WASPS. 97

Bdel. “Vl give him, I'll solemnly vow and engage,
Whatever is good for a man of his age; :
His pitcher shall ever of porridge be full,
And I'll wrap round his limbs a warm mantle of wool, —
Why stands he so silent ?”

Colt. “He is thinking how long,
Though you counselled him right, he has stuck to the wrong.
He'll be wiser hereafter.”

Phil. “Woe is me! woe is me!”
Bdel. “Why, what is the matter?”
Phil. “Tt is easy to see

All the things you have promised I scorn and despise.
It is there I would be, where the court-usher cries,
‘Tf any one still has to vote, let him rise.’”

' Bdelycleon besought his father to yield. The old
man would comply in everything but one. Death
would be better than not sitting as a juryman. |

Bdel. “Well, if you are so bent on this, why not
stop here and judge your own household?” : .

Phil, “Judge my own household? What non-
sense!” :

Bdel. “Not at all. The porteress, for instance,
opens the door on the sly. You fine her a shilling.
Just what you did there. If the day is fine, you will
-hold your court in the sun; if it snows, you will sit
by the fire. And the best of it will be that if you
choose to sleep till noon, no one will shut the door in
your face.”

Phil. “ An excellent idea.”

Bdel, “Then again, however long-winded counsel
98 ARISTOPHANES,

may be, you need not sit hungry, worrying yourself
and the prisoner as well.”

Phil, “But do you think that I shall really be able
to judge and digest at the same time?”

Bdel. “Why not? You will do your judging all
the better. Don’t they say when there is a good
deal of hard swearing in a case that the judge could
scarcely digest it?”

Phil. “T can’t resist you. But tell me true; who
will give me my pay?”

Bdel. “T will.”

Phil. “Good! then I shall always get my fee.
That joker played me a pretty trick the other day.
We had a drachma between us. He changed it in
the fish-market, and put down three fish scales for
my. share. I popped them in my mouth, thinking
they were coins. Oh, the vile smell as I spat them
out!”

Bdel, “You see, then, how much better you will
fare in this way.”

Phil. “Yes, yes; something considerable. But
‘make haste and do it.”

Bdel. “Wait abit. I will go and get the things.”

Phil. “See how the oracle comes true. It ran
thus, I remember : —

“Behold! the days shall come, when every son
Of Athens, sitting in his house, shall judge
Causes of men, and at his door shall build
A little court of justice for himself.”
THE WASPS. 99

The son now returned, bringing with him a number
of judicial properties, such as red boxes to hold the
votes and the like, and he set a basin of gruel by the
fire, for the old man to refresh himself with. Every-
thing being ready, Philocleon said, “Call the first
case; I have been waiting a long time.” This de-
mand puzzled the son not a little. Who was to be
tried? Who in the household had committed a fault ?
Well, the Thracian maid had burnt the pitcher.
While he was meditating whether he should not be-
gin with her, Philocleon discovered to his horror that
the judges were not railed off from the rest of the
court. To go on without the rails was impossible;
he would go and find some fer himself. Bdelycleon -
was meditating on the force of habit, when one of
the slaves cried out, “‘Confound the dog! Why do
they keep such a brute as that?”

Bdel. “Why, what has happened?”

Stave. “Pincher has got to the safe and stolen a
rich Sicilian cheese.”

Bdel. “Was he? Then that shall be the first case
for my father to try. You shall be prosecutor.”

Slave. “Not I, thank you. The other cur says
he will prosecute with pleasure.”

At this point the old man returned with some rail-
ings from the pigsty, two bowls for voting-urns, and
everything at last was complete. So important a
business, however, could not be inaugurated without
sacrifice and prayer. Philocleon called for frankin-
100 ARISTOPHANES,

cense, a pan of coals on which to burn it, and some
sprigs of myrtle.
The colleagues sang : —

“O Phoebus, who dwell’st in the Delphian shrine,
We beseech thee to favour this righteous design.” °

Bdelycleon took up the chant :—

“Great master, who dwellest in front of my gate,
His sternness of temper now somewhat abate.
Let him not be so prompt with accusers to side,
But inclined more to pity the wretch that is tried.”

Phil. “Who is the accused in this case?” os)
“He'll not get off very easily.”

del. “Listen to the indictment: Cur, of the town
of Cydathon, accuses Pincher of AZnone of having
embezzled a Sicilian cheese and eaten it all himself.!
Proposed sentence, a dog-collar of fig-wood.” 2

Phil. “ A collar indeed! To be hanged like a dog,
if he is found guilty.”

_Bdel. “The prisoner Pincher is here, and pleads
not guilty.”

Phil. “A manifest villain! What a thievish look
he has! And how he grins! thinking, I suppose, to
take me in. Where is the accuser, Cur of Cydathon?”

1 There is probably an allusion to some proceedings which had
taken place at Athens six years before. “Cur” represents the Greek
4uon, which is not unlike “Cleon.” “ Pincher” is a rendering of the
Greek /adés, which by the change of a single letter becomes “ Laches.”
Cleon had indicted Laches, in 426 B.c., for peculation committed when
he was in command of an expedition sent by the Athenians to Sicily in

427 B.C.
? Meaning that he would have to be tied up.








Cur anpD PINCHFR.
THE WASPS. IOI

Cur. “ Bow, wow!”

Bdel. “Silence in the court! Cur, go up into the
box and state the charge.”

Slave (as representing Cur, the prosecutor). “ Gen-
tlemen of this honourable court, you have heard the
charge that I bring against the accused. I say that
he played a most scandalous trick on me and my
fellows. He ran off into a corner by himself, and
gorged himself with the cheese.”

Phil. “He is manifestly guilty. The rascal smells
of cheese most vilely.”?

Slave. “Yes; he devoured it, and would not give
a morsel to me when I asked him. Mark this, he
gave nothing to me, your favourite, Tear ’em.”

Phil. “What! nothing to you? and nothing to me,
either!”

Bdel. “My dear father, for heaven’s wake don’t
decide the case before you have heard both sides!”

Phil. “Why not, my boy? The thing is quite
plain. It speaks for itself.”

Slave. “Don’t let him off. There never was such
a keeping-all-to-himself dog. And, as you know, one
bush is not big enough for two thieves.” ?

1 Philocleon, it will be seen, manifests the most violent prejudice
against the accused. This is doubtless a reflection on the want of a
judicial temper among the citizen judges.

2 An adaptation, it seems, of a proverb that “ one bush never holds
two robins.” The pugnacious character of the robin redbreast and
his intolerance of all intruders seem to have been known to the Greeks
as they have been observed among us. :
102 ARISTOPHANES.

Phil. “Here is a string of charges. The creature
is clearly a regular thief.”

Bdel. (to Pincher). “Now, up with you, and make
your defence! What! can’t you speak?”

Phil. “Because he has got nothing to say for
himself.”

Bdel. “No, no, sir; I have seen it happen before
in court.” (Zo the dog) “Get down, and I’ll plead
your cause myself.” (Zo the court) “It is not easy,
gentlemen, to defend a dog that has got a bad name.
Still, I will do my best. He is a good dog, and drives
away wolves.”

Phil. “A good dog indeed! I call him a thief
and a traitor.”

Bdel. “He is the best dog that we have got about
the place. He is fit to take charge of any number
of sheep.”

Phil. “What is the good of that, if he steals
cheeses and eats them?”

Bdel. “What good? He fights for you, he watches
at your door; altogether, he is an excellent creature.
And if he did steal a bit, well, you see that he has
not been properly educated. But I have a wit-
ness.”

The advocate now called a cheese-grater, which
was directed to get into the box, and on examination
testified that it had grated cheese for the accused,
and that others had received a share. This disposed
of the charge of having devoured the stolen property
THE WASPS. . 103

in solitude! He then proceeded to say that Pincher
was a hard-working animal, that lived on odds and
ends, bones, gristle, anything, in short, that he could
get, while Cur was a mere stay-at-home, always ask-
ing for a share of what was brought in, and biting
if he did not get it. The next thing, following the
regular course of proceeding, was to excite the com-
passion of the court. With this object, a litter of
puppies was brought in, and made to whimper for
. mercy for their father.

Phil. “You can step down; I am satisfied.”

Bdel. “Step down I will; though I don’t quite
trust you. I have known many men taken in before
this.? Well, father, will he Be off?”

Phtl, “Tis hard to say.”

Bdel. “My dear father, I do beseech you to take
the merciful side. Here is the voting pebble. Pray
drop it in the ‘Not guilty’ urn. It is that far one,
you know. Shut your eyes while you are passing
the other.”’

_ Phil. “No, no, my boy; you see I havé not been
educated.” 8
Bdel. “ Let me lead you, sir.”

1 This, of course, is a reference to the Sicilian affair. The pay-
master of the expedition had been called, and had testified to. the
proper distribution of the funds.

? Meaning that accused persons were often deceived by an apparent
softening in the demeanour of the judges.

3 He retorts on his son the argument which had been used in de-
fence of Pincher.
104 ARISTOPHANES.

Phil. “1s this the ‘ Guilty’ urn?”

Bdel. “Yes, sir.”

Phil. “Tn she goes!”

The fact was, that Bdelycleon, seeing that his
father was resolved to condemn, deceived him, and
pointed out the “ Not guilty” as the “ Guilty” urn.
“T have taken him in,” he said, as the vote was
dropped in. “And now, sir,” he went on, address-
ing his father, “1 will count the votes.” !

Bdel. “ How has it gone?”

Phil. “ Pincher is acquitted.”

‘The old man was so overpowered by this unex-
pected result that he almost fainted, and had to ask
for water. “Is he indeed acquitted?” he inquired ;
and when assured that it was so, he broke out into a
doleful strain : — : :

_ “ How shall I bear this load upon my conscience ?
A man acquitted! What dread penalty
Awaits us in the future? O great gods !

I ask your pardon; for against my will,
~- ’ + Nor in my own true mood, I did the deed.”
Bdel. “Take it not ill. My father, from henceforth
I'll tend thee well, taking thee everywhere.
To feast, to banquet, to the public show;
The years to be in pleasure thou’shalt spend, _
R And no one cheat thee. Letus go.”
Phil. “T go;
". ... After to-day my occupation’s gone.”

1 The pretence that a numerous court of judges were present is kept
up. Philocleon professes himself unable to say which way the voting
would go. : : : ¢
THE WASPS. 105

And now it was proved that it is not always a-
good thing to change a man’s habit of life, even
‘though it may be a bad one; for it is quite possible
that he may turn to something worse. Philocleon
went to the feast. At first it was not easy to make
him enjoy himself. He did not know how to behave
himself among gay company; his very attitude was
ungainly; he could think of nothing to talk about
but old experiences in the law-courts.. But he learnt
his lesson with amazing rapidity. Before the ban-
quet was half finished he was the noisiest of the
company, jumping and frisking about like a donkey
that has had a feed of corn, bantering the guests,
telling stories that were not in the least to the point,
and at last, when the party broke up, beating every
one that he met on his way home. The slave
Xanthias, who had come in for a sound thrashing,
had just time to give warning at home of what had
happened when the old man appeared. “ Dear
me,” he said, “it is hard for a young fellow like me
to be kept so strict! There’s my son, the most
cross-grained guardian that could be, always afraid
that I shall turn out badly; but then, I am his only
father, you see!” While he was speaking, the peo-
ple whom he had maltreated on his way came flock-
ing in. A girl that sold bread} complained that the

1 These girls were as notorious in Athens for their command of bad
-language as fish-sellers among ourselves. Bacchus in 7he frogs tells
the two rivals (Aischylus and Euripides) that two great poets ought

‘not to stand abusing each other as if they were a couple of bread-
sellers.
106 — ARISTOPHANES.

old man had knocked at least a dozen loaves off her
tray with his torch. Philocleon had nothing to say
to her except it was to tell some of the pleasant
stories which his son had said would suit gay society.
“My good girl,” he said, “what do you think A’sop
once said to a dog that barked at him as he was
going home from dinner?”?—‘“I don’t want to
know,” said the girl. — “ Well,” he went on, “it was
something like this: ‘Don’t make all that noise,
but — buy some more flour.’’”?1—“ And you insult
me, too,” she cried. “I'll bring you before the clerk
of the market.” —“ No, but listen,” he replied; “1
may be able to satisfy you. Simonides and Lasus?
once had a trial of skill; and Lasus said, ‘I don’t
care. And that’s just what I say.” Next came a
man complaining of having his head broken. “T’ll
make. it all right with him,” said Philocleon. The
man was pleased. He did not want, he said, to go
to law if he could help it. “Well, then, listen: a

girl at Sybaris broke a jug —’—“ Oh!” cried the
man, “if that’s the way you are going to make it
right with me, I shall call my witnesses.” — “ That’s

just what the jug said,” the old man went on; “and
the girl told it that it would show more sense if it

1 The joke lies in the unexpected end of the story. What Aésop’s
advice to the dog may have been we do not know; what is given to
the girl is that, if she had lost her loaves, she had better buy the mate-
rials for making some more instead of wasting her time in talking.

2 Simonides and Lasus were contemporary poets, writers chiefly of
lyric verse, and rivals. The date of the former is given as 556-467 B.C.
THE WASPS. 107

left off calling witnesses, and bought a rivet to mend
itself with.’ — ‘Ah! you may laugh,” said the ag-
grieved man; “ but it will be a different thing when
the magistrate calls on the case.” The son now lost
all patience, and forcibly carried his father into the
house, already probably wishing that he had been
content to leave him in the enjoyment of his old
occupation. .
V.

THE CLOUDS.

It is difficult to write anything about this play without: going into
matters more serious than would be becoming in such a volume as this.
Something, however, may be said, by way of explanation, of the object
which the poet had in view. He was a strong conservative, as in poli-
tics, so in education. And anew school of teachers, to whom the name
of sophists had been given, had in his time come into vogue at Athens.
These men, of whom Protagoras of Abdera and Gorgias of Leontium
were perhaps the most famous, were not at all to the liking of Aris-
tophanes. He clung to the old faith (though this adherence did not
prevent him from being on occasion exceedingly profane), while the
sophists explained it away. He held with the old notions of right and
wrong, and they, as Mr. Merry expresses it, “ did not profess to believe
in an absolute standard of morality, or in any positive truth.” Their
aim in teaching was to be practically useful, to make their pupils fit for
life, especially public life. But success in public life largely depended
on power in speaking. “ Rhetoricians” was the name for Athenian
politicians. Hence the sophists gave especial attention to the art of
speaking. So far as they believed that there was no absolute right or
wrong, so far they would teach their pupils to use the rhetorical art
which they learnt without regard to these considerations. To judge
from the account given of his teaching by Plato, Socrates did not
approve of the sophists. Again and again he is represented as con-
futing them. Yet it was not unnatural that Aristophanes should
confound him with them, or even pick him out for attack as their
representative. In truth, however, he was nothing of the kind. These
sophists were mainly foreigners; Socrates was an Athenian. They |
lectured in private, receiving only those who were willing and able to
pay the high fees which they demanded; Socrates taught in the public
streets and squares any one who chose to listen to him.

The attack could have had only a remote influence in bringing
about the condemnation of the great philosopher by his countrymen.

108
THE CLOUDS. 109

This took place in 399 B.c., whereas the play was acted in 423. Still
it helped in producing the great prejudice which undoubtedly existed
and which resulted in his being put to death. To this fact Socrates is
represented: as referring in the defence or apology which Plato puts
into his mouth. He says: — :

“T have had many to accuse me to you, This they have done for
many years, saying things about me, not one of which was true. And
of these enemies I am more afraid than I am of Anytus and his fellow-
accusers, though these, too, are formidable. But, gentlemen, these old
enemies are more formidable. These have represented to you in your
childhood a false story, how that there is a certain Socrates, or wise
man, who speculates on things above the earth, and searches into
things under the earth, and makes the worse appear the better reason.
It is they, men of Athens, who by spreading about this report of me,
have been my really dangerous accusers; for those who listen to them
hold that they who busy themselves with such speculations do not even
believe in the gods.” sg A

And a little later he says: “ You yourselves have seen this in Aris-
tophanes’s comedy, in which a certain Socrates is introduced, saying
that he ‘walks in air,’ and talking much other nonsense on subjects on
which I do not profess to know much or little.”

However much Aristophanes was mistaken in his estimate of Soc-
rates’s character and teaching, it was the estimate commonly held.
Indeed, there is no reason to suppose that the story sometimes told of
the Athenians. having repented of their condemnation of their great
countryman, is true.

STREPSIADES, once a wealthy Athenian land-owner,
but now reduced by losses that followed the war
and by his son’s extravagance to great distress, was
meditating sadly on his troubles as he lay awake in
the early morning. “Will it never be light?”. he
said to himself; “and yet I’m sure I heard the cock
crow a long time ago. All the slaves are snoring,
and,one can’t thrash them now, thanks to that de-
testable war. And there’s my son. there; nothing
110 | ARISTOPHANES.

disturbs him. I can’t sleep a. wink for thinking
of my debts. What with his foppery, and -his horse-
racing, and the rest of it, he ruins me.” After
another vain effort to get a little more sleep, the old
gentleman gave it up, and, calling for a light, began
to make a doleful calculation of his debts. “ Fifty
Sounds to-Prasias,” he read over to himself. ‘ When
_ did I borrow fifty pounds of Prasias? Oh! I remem-
ber. It was to buy that Corinthian hack. ‘ Hack,’
‘indeed. I wish that I had had my eye hacked out
before I saw him,” At this point the son, Pheidip-
pides, cried out in his sleep, “It’s not. fair,. Philo;
keep to your own course.” — “Ah!” said the old man,
“that is my ruin, always racing, even in his dreams.”

Pheidippides (stz asleep). “How many rounds do
the chariots run?”

Strepsiades. “You are running your father a pretty
round. But let me see. What was next to Prasias’s
account? Ten pounds to Ameinias for a pair of
wheels and a body.”

Phet. (still asleep). “Give the colt a roll on the
sand, and then take him home.”

Strep. “Ah! you dog, you have rolled me out tof
house and home.”

Phet. (awaking). “Ah! my dear father, Phar makes
you so uncomfortable that you toss about all night?”

Strep. “T am being bitten, my dear boy, badly
bitten, by bailiffs.”

Phei, “Well, do let me go to sleep.”
(MelseT a)
RSME

S

{selec

(He
QO
e
TR
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rg



PHEIDIPPLDES,
THE CLOUDS. II!

Strep. “Sleep away; but all this will fall on your
own head someday. Now a plague on the match-
maker, I say, who made it up between your mother
and me. I was living the jolliest life possible in the
‘country, with my bee-hives, and my flocks, and my
wine-vats. Then I married a niece of Megacles, son
of Megacles, I a farmer, and she a fine city lady.
Then our son was born, and my lady and I had some
words about his name. She must have something
horsey, of course, — Xanthippus, Charippus, or Cal-
lippides.1 I was for Pheidonides, my own grand-
father’s name.2 At last we compromised it, and he
was called Pheidippides.? Then when he grew a big
boy she would say, ‘When you are a man, my dear,
you shall drive a chariot to the citadel, as Megacles
did, and wear a fine cloak’;* and I used to say,
‘When you're a man you shall drive the goats home
with a leather jerkin on, as your father did.’ But he
did not heed me in the least, and he has brought on
my estate a gallopping consumption, as I may call
it. , However, I have thought of an excellent way
out of my difficulties, if I can persuade him to

} All names with “hippo,” signifying “horse,” in them.

? Here one of the component parts of the name is Pheido, “ fru-
' gality.”

3 A name in which both characteristic words appear. The name, it
_ may be mentioned, was borne by the famous Athenian runner, who °
hurried to Sparta from Athens in the course of twenty-four hours, to
tell the news of the landing of the Persians at Marathon.

4This he would do after winning a prize at the Pan-Athenaic
festival.
Ti2 ARISTOPHANES.

take it. Now, how shall I wake him? Pheidy, my
boy!”

Phei. a What i is it, father?”

Strep. “Kiss me, and give me your hand. co

Phei. “Yes, yes; certainly.”
~ Strep. “Now, do you love me?”

Phei. “By the god of horses, yes.”

Strep. “None of that, none of that; the god of
horses is the cause of all my trouble. But if you
love me, my son, do what I shall ask you.”

Phei. “But what is it?”

Strep. “You'll do it, then?”

Phei. “ By Bacchus, yes.”

Strep. “Do you see that door over there?”

Phet. “Yes; what ef it?”

Strep. “That is the Reflectory of wise souls.
There live the men who can prove that the heaven
is a fire-cover, and we are the sparks. Give them
money, and they'll teach you to prove anything you
want, be it right or wrong.”

Phei. “Well, who are they?”

Strep. “1 don’t rightly know what they call them.
But they are very clever fellows.” be

Phei. “Oh! I know—the rascals! You mean
those pale, slipshod fellows, that tele oe de
_ and Cherephon, and their lot.”

Strep. “Hush! don’t say anything foolish. If-you
love your father, cut your horse-racing and take up
with them,”
THE CLOUDS. 113

Phet. “J take up with them! No, not for Leago-
ras’s thoroughbreds.” 3

Strep. “My dear son, I do entreat you to go and
learn of them.”

Phet, “What am I to learn?”

Strep. “They say that these people keep two
arguments, whatever they may be,—the Better and
the Worse; and that anybody who uses the Worse
gets the upper hand, even when he has a bad case.
You go and learn this, and then I sha’n’t have to pay
a shilling to any one of the debts which I have run.
up on your account.” ;

Phet. “YT could not think of it. You don’t sup-
pose I could meet the gentlemen who are on the
Turf without a scrap of colour on my face!”

Strep. “Well, if you won’t, not another mouthful
shall you have from me, you or your shaft-horse, or
your leader. Out you go, bag and baggage.”

Phet. “As you please. My great-uncle Megacles,
I am sure, won’t let me want for a horse.”

The old man, however, was not going to be beaten
by this refusal. If his son wouldn’t learn, he would
learn himself, though he doubted whether he was
clever enough to acquire these subtleties, However,
he took his courage in his hands, and knocked at the
. door of the Reflectory. The knock was answered
by a disciple, who rebuked the visitor for the unman-
neal loudness of his kick. “You made,” he said,

“such a fine thing of mine to miscarry.”

8
I14 ARISTOPHANES,

Strep. “Pardon me; I live a long way off in the
country. Tell me, pray, what it was that I injured.”

Disciple. “ But these things are told only to dis-
ciples.”

Strep. “Never mind; I am come to be a disciple.”

Dis. “Very well; but remember these things are
secret. The other day Socrates asked Cheerephon
how many of its own feet a flea could jump. One
had been biting Chzrephon’s eyebrow, you must un-
derstand, and jumped on to Socrates’s head.”

Strep. “How did he measure it?”

Dis. “In the cleverest way possible. He melted
some wax; then he took the flea and dipped its feet
into the wax. When this was cold, the flea had slip-
pers on; these he undid, and measured the distance.”

Strep. “What a clever thing! a

Dis. “1 can tell you something else. Yesterday
evening we had nothing for dinner. So Socrates
sprinkled a thin coat of ashes on the carving-board,!
bent a spit, and making it into a compass, stole a
piece of meat from the sacrifice.” ;

Strep. “Wonderful! and we talk about Thales !
Let me into the Reflectory. Show me Socrates, for
I am bent on becoming a disciple.”

Accordingly the door was thrown open.

“Good heavens!” cried the visitor, as soon as he
was admitted, seeing the disciples scattered about

- 1 This would be the carving-board of the altar of Hermes, which
stood in the Gymnasium.
THE CLOUDS. URES

in various attitudes, “what kind of creatures are
these? What are they looking on the ground
for?”

Dis. “They are investigating things that are
under the earth.”

Strep. “Looking for truffles, eh? No use here;
but I can tell them where they can find some very
fine ones. And these who are bent double there —
what are they doing?”

Dis. “In sub-Tartarean realms of night they
grope.” :

Strep. “ And why is their other end turned up in
that fashion?”

Ms. “Tt is learning astronomy on its own account.”

Strep. “Stay a moment; what is this?”

Dis. “That is Geometry.”

Strep. “What do you use it for?”

Dis, “Measuring the countries.”

Strep. “T see, the countries where we have allot-
ments.”

Dis. “No, no; the countries generally, the whole
earth.”

Strep. “Splendid! What a patriotic notion! Di-
viding the whole earth among us Athenians.”

Dis. “Look here; this is a map of the earth.
Here is Athens.”

Strep. “That Athens? I don’t believe it. I don’t
see the courts sitting anywhere.”
116 ARISTOPHANES.

Dis. “Ah, but it is! And that’s Eubcea stretch-
ing along there.” .

Strep. “Yes; we stretched it, we did, Pericles and
the rest of us.1 But where’s Sparta?”

Dis, “There.”

Strep. “Oh! but how near! See if you can’t
contrive to put it further off.”

Dis. “ Quite impossible.”

Strep. “So much the worse for you. But who is
the man in the basket there?”

Dis, “That is He.”

Strep. “What he?”

Dis. “Socrates.”

After two or three fruitless attempts, Strepsiades
succeeded in attracting the great man’s attention.
“What want you, creature of a day?” he asked.

“T walk in air, and fix a lofty thought
Down on the sun.”

Strep. “Oh, you look down on the gods from a
basket, do you?”

Socrates. “1 never could have found out aerial
things had I not detached my thoughts, bringing

1 The original has a pun which can be given only imperfectly. The
disciple speaks of the position of Eubcea stretching along the coast;
Strepsiades takes the word in the sense of “straining,” “ stretching,”
and go “ torturing?’ Pericles commanded the expedition which con-
quered Eubcea in 440 B.C. Thirty thousand allotments of the con-
quered country were distributed on the occasion among Athenian
citizens.


THE CLOUDS. 117

them into the kindred air. Had I stayed on earth it
would have been impossible, for the earth forcibly
draws to itself the moisture of the intellect. Just the
same thing happens to cress.”

Strep. “What is it? Intellect attracts moisture
to cress; is that it? But descend a while, and teach
me that which I came here to learn.”

Soc. “ What is that?” ;

Strep. “I want to learn to speak. I am being
cheated and plundered by the cruelest set of cred-
itors.”

Soc. “But how did you get into debt without
knowing it?”

Strep. “A plague of horses has eaten me up.
Now I want you to teach me one of the two argu-
ments you keep; the not-paying-your-creditors argu-
ment, I mean. Teach me, and I will swear by the
gods to pay you your fee.”

Soc. “What gods? Gods don’t pass current here.”

Strep. “What does pass, then? Pieces of iron,
such as they have at Byzantium?”

Soc. “Do you want to know the truth about gods
and such things ?”

Strep. “Ves, by Zeus !—if there is a Zeus.”

Soc. “And make acquaintance with the clouds?
They are what we worship, you understand.”

Strep. “ By all means.”

Socrates then descended from his basket, seated
the old man on a pallet-bed, put a chaplet on his
118 ARISTOPHANES.

head, and sprinkled him with flour, — proceedings
which somewhat dismayed him, as they suggested
the idea that he was going to be sacrificed! But he
was assured that all who desired to become disciples
had to do it, and that, once initiated, he would learn
the art of clever speech, would become, in fact, the
flower (flour) of advocates. ‘‘ Well, that’s true in
a way,” said Strepsiades ; “there’s a good deal of
flour about me now.” Socrates then proceeded to
invoke the clouds, while the new disciple folded his
cloak over him, lest, as he. said, he should be
drenched.

“O ye Clouds, honoured much of the wise, your forms to this
mortal disclose!
Come, come from the height of Olympus, god-haunted and
covered with snows,

Or where in the garden of ocean the dance of the nymphs
ye behold,

Or where from the fountains of Nilus ye draw in your
pitchers of gold;

Or come from the lake of Meotis, or snow-covered moun-
tains of Thrace,

Come, hark to our prayers, and our worship accept, of your
bountiful grace.”

Presently an answering voice was heard, accom-
panied by the noise of rolling thunder that seemed
to come nearer and nearer : —

1 A victim was crowned with a garland and had meal sprinkled on
its head.
THE CLOUDS. 119

“ Bringers of rain, a maiden band,
We seek Athené’s gracious land,
The fair heaven-favoured dwelling-place
Of ancient Cecrops’ noble race,
Where in their awful mansion dwell
The mysteries inscrutable ;
Nor miss the gods on high their right
Of honour due, the pillared height
Of stately fane, and shapely grace
Of sculptured form, the solemn pace
Of pomps that move through gazing streets,
The festive flower-crowned throng that meets
At feast or ritual, while the years
Pass .through the. seasons’ ordered way,
And when the gladsome Spring appears,
Our joyous Bacchic holiday,
The while the dancers’ twinkling feet
Time to the flute’s clear music beat.”

Strep. “Tell me, Socrates, who are these that
sing this very solemn strain? Are they heroines?”

Soc. “Not at all; they are the Clouds of heaven.
It is they who give us wise maxims, and logic, and
circumlocution, and cheating.”

Strep. “Yes; and when I hear them my soul is
all agog for all kinds of subtleties and chatterings.
But I should like to see them plainly, if it is
possible.” ;

Soc. “Look towards Mount Parnes, then; I see
them plainly coming down from it.”

Strep. “Where? where?”

Soc. “There, down through the glens and
thickets.”
120 ARISTOPHANES.

Strep. “1 can’t see them.”

Soc. “Surely you must see them now, unless you
are as blind as a bat.”

Strep. “Now I do; indeed, they are everywhere.”

Soc. “And didn’t you know that they were god-
desses ?”

Strep. “Not I; I thought that they were dew
and mist. But tell me, if they are clouds, why they
are like women. For the real clouds are not.”

Soc. “ What are they, then?”

Strep. “ Why, they are like fleeces floating about,
but not in the least like women.’ Those clouds
there have noses.” 4

Soc. “ Now answer me a few questions. Have
you ever looked up into the sky and seen a cloud
that was like a centaur, or a panther, or a wolf, or a
bull ?” ‘

Strep. “ Often; what then?”

Soc. “They become whatever they like. When
they see a minor poet with his hair all long about his
shoulders, they mock at his folly, and make them-
selves into centaurs.” i

Strep. “What do they do when they see Simon,
who stole the public money?”

Soc. “They become wolves, to be sure.”

Strep. “And so, when they see Cleonymus the
coward, they turn into deer, I suppose.”

The Clouds now greeted the sage who had invoked
their presence : —

1 Probably the masks had noses of comic size.
THE CLOUDS, 12!

“ High priest of all trumpery nonsense, we greet thee, old hunter

of words that are clever and fine!

Now tell us the thing about which you have called us; to no
voice do we listen so soon as to thine ;

So solemn your gait, and so fierce are your glances, as we look
at you strutting along in the ways

Barefooted and wretched, while up to the heavens a look of
majestical greatness you raise.” ;

Soc. “You see, my friend, that these are the only
divinities. All the others are mere moonshine.”

Strep. “Stop! isn’t Olympian Zeus a divinity,
then?”

Soe. “What Zeus? Don’t talk nonsense. There
is no Zeus.” . :

Strep. “What? Who is it that rains, then?”

Soc. “Why, these, of course. Did you ever see it
rain without clouds? Zeus ought to rain from a clear
sky, if he did it.”

Strep. “Well, but who is it that thunders?”

Soc. “These; they thunder as they roll along.
They are laden with water, and come crashing to-
gether, and so make a great noise.”

Strep. “But who makes them move? It must ‘be
Zeus.”

Soc. “No; it isn’t Zeus: it is Whirl.” |

Strep. “So Whirl is king instead of Zeus. Well,
I didn’t know it. But tell me about the lightning.
Doesn’t Zeus strike perjurers with it?”

Soc. “Well, you are an antiquated old fool. If
Zeus strikes the perjurers, why doesn’t he strike Si-
122 ARISTOPHANES.

mon, and Cleonymus, and Theorus? Why does he

strike his own temples, and the cliffs of Sunium,!

and the oaks? The oaks don’t perjure themselves.”
Strep. “There is something in what you say.”
The Clouds now addressed Strepsiades : —

“As you come our most excellent wisdom to seek,
There is not an Athenian, no, nor a Greek,

Shall be happy as you, if you only remember,
And think, and endure in your soul, and disdain
To feel heat in the summer, or cold in December,
Or weariness walking or standing, or pain

Of hunger, when others are wishing to dine,

And care nothing at all for amusement or wine,
But claim to be first all our speakers among’

In business and counsel and fence of the tongue.”

Strep. “Well, you'll find me as hard as an anvil.”

Soc. “And you won't believe in any gods besides
ours — Clouds, Chaos, and Tongue — these three?”

Strep. “1 won't even speak to the rest, if I should
meet them.”

The Clouds. “Tell us plainly what you want.”

Strep. “I want to be miles away the cleverest
speaker in Greece.”

Clouds. “So you shall; no man shall carry more
resolutions in the Assembly than you.”

Strep. “I don’t care about resolutions in the
Assembly; I want to slip through my creditors’
hands.”

1The promontory at the southeastern corner of Attica.
THE CLOUDS. 123

Clouds. “Oh, that’s a very little matter. Hand
your accounts to our attendants, and fear nothing.”

Strep. “1 will trust you to the uttermost. What
with my debts and my extravagant wife, I have no
other choice. Hunger, thirst, cold, torture, anything
that. you please, so long as you make me a real
clever speaker.”

Clouds. “The man has a bold temper. Well, if
you learn all this from me, you will be the most for-
tunate of men. You will have clients always sitting
at your door to get your advice in heavy cases. And
now, Socrates, take him and teach him.” :

Soc. “Well, my friend, have you got a good
memory ?”

Strep. “A very long memory when money is ow-
ing to me; a very short one, when I owe it myself.”

Soc. “ How will you be able to learn?”

Strep. “Well enough; don’t be afraid.”

Soc. “Can you speak?”

Strep. “TI can’t speak, but I can cheat.”

Soc. “Tf I let drop a bit of thé higher wisdom,
you must snatch it up at once.”

Strep. “What? Grab wisdom like a dog?”

Soc. “ This is a very ignorant, barbarous creature.
Old man, I am afraid you'll want a good beating.
Come, take off your coat.”

Strep. “Why, what have I done wrong?”

Soc. “Nothing; but it is our custom to come in
without our coats.”
124 ARISTOPHANES.

Strep. “Well, give me a honey-cake. I feel as if
I was going down into the cave of Trophonius,”

After a while Socrates came out again, loudly
complaining of the ignorance, stupidity, and forget-
fulness of his new pupil. He had no sooner learnt
a little subtlety than he forgot it. However, he was
willing to try once more. Accordingly he proceeded
to instruct him in various questions of prosody and
grammar. All, however, was to no purpose. The
old man remained hopelessly dense. As a last
resource the teacher ordered him to lie down on a
couch with which he had been provided, wrap him-
self closely up, and proceed to think. “If you get
anywhere,” he said, “whence you can’t get out,
then lightly leap to some other notion of the soul.”

Strep. “Oh! oh!”

Clouds. “What is the matter?”

Strep. “Oh, the fleas are coming out of the mat-
tress and biting me.”

Clouds. “ Don’t trouble.”

Strep. “How can I help it? My money is gone,
and my skin is gone, and my life is gone, yes, and
my shoes, too.”

Soc. “Are you not thinking?”

Strep. “Yes; indeed I am.”

Soc. “ What about?”

Strep. “Whether the fleas will leave anything of
me.”

Soc. “Don’t be a coward; wrap yourself up and
think.” .
THE CLOUDS. 125

Strep. (after a pause). “My dear Socrates, I have
a device for escaping interest.”

Soc. “ Explain it.”

Strep. “I should buy a witch from Thessaly;
she would bring down the moon out of the sky for
me. I should shut it up in a round crest case, and
keep it.”

Soc. “ How would that help you?”

Sivep. “How? Why, if the moon was never to
rise, of course I should not pay interest.” :

Soc. “Why not?”

Strep. “Because it is due at the new moon.”

Soc. “Very good; but answer me this: An action
is brought against you for five talents; how would it
get rid of it?” .

Strep. “How? how? I don’t know, but I will
consider.”

Soc. “Don’t keep your mind always going round
and round yourself. Let it fly about like a cock-
chafer tied by a string.”

Strep. “I have found the very cleverest way of
getting rid of a suit. You have seen at the drug-
gist’s that pretty transparent stone with which they
light fires?”

Soc. “A burning glass, I suppose you mean.”

Strep. “Just so. Well, might not I take this, and
while the registrar was writing down the case, turn
the sun on to it, and melt the wax?”

Soc. “ By the Graces! a clever thought.”
126 ARISTOPHANES.

Strep. “I should really Uke having a suit for five
talents brought against me.’

Soc. “Now, turn your mind to this: You are de-
fendant in a case, you are going to be cast, you have
no witnesses, — how would you get out of it?”

Strep. “In the easiest way in the world.”

Soc. “Tell me.”

Strep. “Why, when the last case was on, before
mine was called, I should go and hang myself.”

Soc. “You are a fool. I will have nothing more
to do with you. There never was an old man so
stupid and so forgetful. Away with you!”

Strep. “Dear me! What shall I do? Dear, wor-
shipful Clouds, advise me!”

Clouds. “Tf you have a grown-up son, we recom-
mend you to send him to learn in your place.”

Strep. “Well, I have a son, but he won’t learn.”

Clouds. “ And you allow him?”

Strep. “You see, he is a sturdy fellow, and his
mother is a fine lady. However, I’ll go after him,
and if he still refuses I’ll turn him out of my house.”

Pheidippides was not easy to persuade. “‘ Father,
what is it?” he said. “By Zeus! you are out of your
senses.”

Stvep. “There you are with your Zeus— how
silly!”

Phei. “ What is there to laugh at?”

Strep. “Your talking about Zeus; there is no
Zeus.”
THE CLOUDS. - 127

Phei. “Who told you this nonsense?”

Strep. “ Socrates.”

Phet. “ And you believe these lunatics ?”

Strep. “Hush! say nothing against these clever,
sensible men. They are so economical that they
never shave themselves or go to the bath. As for
you, you wash away my property, just as if I were

dead. But do go and learn what they have to teach
you.”

Phet. “Very clever, indeed; and that is the
reason, perhaps, why you have lost your cloak.”

Strep. “TI haven't lost it; I thought it away.”

Phew. “And your shoes — what of them?”
| Strep. “Lost them, like Pericles, for a necessary
purpose.! But go, I beseech you.”

Phet. “Yes, Pll go; but you'll be sorry for it some
day.”

The two Arguments, the Just and the Unjust, now
appeared, and immediately engaged in a battle royal
over the new pupil. “TI’ll be too much for you,”
cried the Just Argument. “How?” replied the
Unjust.

Just. “ By saying what is right.”

Unjust. “There is no such thing as right.”

1 Pericles, in 445 B.c., entered in the accounts which he rendered
to the people of public moneys spent, “ten talents for a necessary pur-
pose.” This item passed without question. The money had been
given, it was said, to Pleistoanax, king of Sparta, and Cleandridas, his
“chief of the staff,” to induce them to evacuate the Athenian territory
which had been invaded by a Spartan army,
128 ARISTOPHANES.

Just. “You say that there is no such thing? es

Unjust. “Where is it?”

Just. “With the gods.”

Unjust. “Why, then, did Zeus put his father in
prison?”

Just. “This gets worse and worse; it makes me
sick.”

Unjust. “What an ignorant fellow!”

Just. “You're a shameless beast.”

Unjust. “Your lips drop roses.”

Just. “You are a ribald jester.”

Unjust. “This is praise!”

Clouds. “ Well, ‘make an end of this quarrelling.
Plead each of you his cause. You, Just Argument,
tell us what you used to teach the last generation.
You, Unjust, explain to us the new education. This
young man shall choose between you. Now, you
shall speak first.”

Unjust. “ He may, if he chooses. IT’ll make short
work with him when he has done.”

Just. “ Listen to me, when I tell you what the
old-fashioned education was. Then a boy was never
allowed to say so much as a word. He walked in
an orderly fashion to his music-master’s, without a
cloak, mark you, though the snow might be as thick
as meal. And the music was of the good old sort,
none of your modern twists and twirls. Let a lad
try one of those, and he would be well thrashed for
his pains. And woe betide him if at table he took
THE CLOUDS. 129

a radish or a sprig of parsley before his elders, or
showed a taste for dainty dishes.”
Unjust. ‘What old-fashioned nonsense!”

Just. “Ah, but that is the way I bred the men
who conquered at Marathon! Choose me, my young
friend, and you will learn to be ashamed of what is
base, and to blush if they banter you, and to rise up
from your seat when your elders come in, and to
mould yourself after the model of honour, keeping
yourself from bad companions, and never contradict-
ing your father, or making game of the nest in which
you were hatched.”

Unjust. “Yes; and they'll say that you're tied to
your mother’s apron-strings.”’

Fust. “In the ring of the wrestlers all blooming and strong

You will stand, nor chatter away to the throng

That meets in the market your far-fetched conceits ;

To the Academeia! you'll often repair,

And you'll run in the shade of the olive-trees there,
With a chaplet of reed on your head, while a friend

As honest as you on your steps shall attend;

In the joy of a leisure unblamed, in the time

Of the spring, when the plane whispers soft to the lime.

Yes, young man, if you want a chest well filled out,
broad shoulders, a clear complexion, and a short
tongue, come to me. Go to my adversary, and fol-
low in the ways that are fashionable now, and your

1 The grove of Academus, in the outskirts of Athens, where there

was a gymnasium, afterwards celebrated as the place where Plato and
this successors taught.
130 ARISTOPHANES.

complexion will be pale, your shoulders narrow, your
chest thin, and your tongue long. Good will be evil
to you, and evil good.”

The Unjust Argument now opened his case, pro-
ceeding by cross-examination. “You say,” he said
to his adversary, “that the hot bath is not a good
thing. What is your reason for finding fault with
it?”

Just. “Because it is a very bad thing, and turns a
man into a coward.”

Unjust. “Hold! now I have you. Tell me, which
of the sons of Zeus was the bravest and performed
most valiant deeds?”

Just. “No one was superior to Hercules.”

Unjust. “Well, did you ever see a cold bath called
after Hercules?} And yet who was braver than
he?”

Just. “ Ah! this is the sort of argument which our
young men chatter all day, and which make the bath-
houses full and the gymnasia empty.”

Unjust. “Then again you speak against the As-
sembly, but I speak well of it. If it had been a bad
thing, Homer would never have made Nestor a great
speaker in the Assembly. Then about the tongue.
You say that young men ought not to cultivate it;
I say that they ought. You say that they ought to
be temperate; I say that they ought not. Tell me

1The hot baths at Thermopyle (Hot-Gate) were called after
Hercules,
THE CLOUDS. 131

now, when did you ever hear of a man getting good
by temperance?”
Just. “Many. Peleus got a sword by it.”

Unjust. “ A sword indeed! and a nice thing it was
to him! And how many talents did Hyperbolus the
lamp-maker make by his villany? Plenty, to be sure,
but certainly not a sword.”

Just. “Then Peleus married the goddess Thetis.”

Unjust. “Who left him. No, no; this is the way
to lose all the pleasures of life; and without them is -
life worth living?” j

Just. “But how about the disgrace that will fall
upon you, if you follow these profligate ways?”

Unjust. “Nothing at all. Tell me, who are the
great advocates?”

Just. “The profligate.”

Unjust. “ And the successful tragedians?”

Just. “The profligate.”
Unjust. “ And the political leaders?”
Just. “The profligate.”

Unjust. “Well, what have you got to say.?”

Just. “Nothing, but that I am beaten, and that
I come over to your side.”
_ After this, of course, Strepsiades could do nothing
but hand over his gon to Socrates to be instructed
by him, receiving the assurance that he would be
returned to him an accomplished rhetorician, always
able to make the worse appear the better reason.

Meanwhile the time grew near when these powers
132 ARISTOPHANES.

would be wanted. “Four days,” he said to himself,
“and then comes that day which I hate to think of.
All my creditors swear that they will give me no
mercy. I make the most reasonable propositions to
them. I say, ‘Would you mind postponing part of
the debt, and cancelling part, and not receiving the
rest?’ and they won’t listen to me. However, it will
be all right if Pheidippides has learnt his lesson
properly. I must go over to the Reflectory and see
how he has got on.” This he did, and had the
pleasure of having his son handed over to him,
changed into a pale-faced, cunning-looking fellow,
who gave promise of being exactly what he wanted.
He at once appealed to him for his help, explaining
that he was terribly afraid of the last day of the
month, when his creditors had declared that they
would sue him for the money which he owed to
‘them. Pheidippides explained to him that his fears .
were groundless. He had a device which would
upset the creditors’ calculations. These gentlemen
did not understand that this last day had been pur-
posely called the “old and the new”? by Solon, and
so made into two days, in order to give debtors a
loophole of escape. Relying on this new interpreta-
tion the old man received the threatenings of trades-
men, who called with requests for payment, with the

1The Athenian month was divided into three decades, and the last
day of the third was called “ the old and the new” as belonging partly
to the month that was ending, and partly to that which was beginning,
THE CLOUDS. 133

greatest coolness. One claimed fifty pounds for a
dappled horse. He was met first with the objection
about the day, then with the argument that it was
very unlikely that he, Strepsiades, notoriously hating
all that had to do with horses, should have incurred
such a debt, and then, when reminded that he had
sworn to pay at the proper time, with ridicule of the
gods whom he had named in his oath, and finally by
questions of grammar. It was quite preposterous,
‘he said, that a man who did not know the gender
of nouns should presume to ask for payment of a
debt. 3
Another was asked a problem in physics. “Is the
rain always new water, or does the sun draw up the
same over and over again?” —“I don’t know and I
don’t care,” said the man. — “ Then,” replied Strep-
siades, “you are not fit to have your money.” —
“Well,” the man went on,. “if you are short of
money and cannot let me have the capital, pay me the

interest.” — “Interest!” replied Strepsiades, “what
kind of monster is that? Tell me, does the sea
grow bigger, or always remain the same?” —“ Re.
mains the same, I suppose,” said the man. — “ Well,”

Strepsiades went on, “if the sea does not grow
bigger though all the rivers flow into it, how can you
expect your capital to grow bigger? Out of the
house with you!” This was all very well; but
Strepsiades found before long that there was another
side to the affair. He asked his son to sing a song

a
134 ARISTOPHANES.

of Simonides. The young man refused; A‘schylus
did not please him any better: he was an empty,
bombastic old creature. Pheidippides would repeat
nothing but Euripides. The father strongly objected,
and the affair ended by the young man giving the
old one a sound thrashing. In vain did Strepsiades
remonstrate. ‘ Shameless creature,” he cried, “don’t
you know that I attended to all your wants in your
infancy, and see how you treat me now!”

Phei, “Once upon a time I gave all my thoughts
to horses, and then I could not say three words with-
out making some blunder. My father made me give
up these ways, and turn my thoughts to clever,
sophistical speeches. Thanks to him, I can prove
quite convincingly that it is quite right for a son to
beat his father.”

Strep. “For heaven’s sake, go on with your horse-
racing! That isn’t as bad as beating me.”

Phei. “T shall return to the point at which you
interrupted me. Answer me this question: Did you
beat me when I was a child?”

Strep. “ Certainly, for your good.”

Phei. “ And shouldn’t I beat you for your good,
as it seems that beating does a person good? Why,
too, should you go scot-free and I not? I am free
born just as you. You say that it is right that a child
should be beaten. But an old man is a child twice
over. And an old man deserves to be beaten far
more than a child, as he has less excuse for doing
wrong.”
THE CLOUDS. 135

Strep. “ But it is usual everywhere for children to
be beaten.”

Phet. “Tt was a man that made the law; and why
should not I make a new one? The old scores we
will wipe out; but hereafter the law is, that the sons
beat their fathers. Consider, too, the cock and other
animals. They punish their fathers, and there is no
difference between them and us, except that they
don’t propose bills in the Assembly.”

Strep. “Well, if you are going to imitate the cock
in all things, why don’t you eat dung and sleep on a
perch?”

Phet. “The argument does not apply. Socrates
would not say that it did.”

Strep. “ But some day you will repent of it, for
your son will beat you.”

Phei. “But if I have no son, what then?”

Strep. “Tam afraid you have me there.”

Phet. “Well, listen again. I shall beat my mother
just as I beat you.”

Strep. “Why, that’s worse than ever. You and
your Unjust Argument and Socrates with you ought.
to be thrown into the pit. Clouds, do you hear what
_ he says?”

Clouds. “Tt serves you right. You led the lad
into wicked ways.”

Strep. “Yes, but you encouraged me, a poor, igno-
rant old man.”

Clouds. “ Because you were dishonest. That is
136 ARISTOPHANES.

our way. We always do this to those whom we
know to be disposed to evil, that they may learn to
fear the gods.”

Strep. “Well, it is very bad, but it is just. But
come, my son, let us destroy these scoundrels who
have deceived both you and me.”

Strepsiades accordingly, with the help of his slaves,
for his son refused to lend a hand, proceeded to at-
tack the Reflectory. The slaves set a ladder against
the wall, mounted it, and plied a pick-axe on the roof.
The old man himself caught up a lighted torch and set
fire to the lower story. ‘“ What are you doing ?” cried
one disciple. — “Chopping logic with the beams,”
said the assailant.—‘“ Who are you?” shouted an-
other. — “ The man whose cloak you stole.” —‘ What
are you after?” asked Socrates himself. — “I walk in
air, and contemplate the sun,” was the answer. — “I
shall be suffocated,” cried Socrates. — ‘I shall be
burnt alive,” said Cherephon. But the Clouds ap-
peared. “Strike, and spare not,” they said; “you
have many good reasons, and the best is this, — that
they blasphemed the gods.”
VI.
THE BIRDS.

This play was exhibited at the Great or City Festival of Bacchus in
the year 414 B.c. The struggle in Sicily, which was to end so disas-
trously for Athens in the following year, was then going on; and it
has been suggested that the poet’s purpose was to warn his countrymen
against wild and hare-brained expeditions and schemes of conquest.
This suggestion is scarcely probable, for the expedition had hitherto
had a fair measure of success, and was still greatly popular at Athens.
The question, however, need not be here discussed; but it may be well
to mention, for the benefit of readers not familiar with the history of
the time, an important incident connected with it. Alcibiades had
been one of the chief advocates of the expedition, and had been ap-
pointed one of the three generals in command, Nicias and Lamachus
being his colleagues. On the eve of embarkation an extraordinary
outrage was committed in the city. This was the simultaneous mutila-
tion of all the pedestal statues of Hermes that stood in the streets and
public places of Athens. Suspicion at once fell on Alcibiades and the
riotous young aristocrats in whose society he lived. The fact that
almost the only statue spared was one that stood near his house was
thought to point to his guilt, though to us it suggests that the affair
was the work of his enemies. Alcibiades begged that the matter
should be inquired into at once. This he could not bring about; but
he was permitted, even compelled, to accompany the expedition. Not
long afterwards he was recalled to take his trial, and one of the state
galleys was sent to fetch him. He obeyed the summons, but escaped
on his way home, and took refuge at Sparta. There he exerted him-
self to do all the injury possible to his country.

Two citizens of Athens, of whom one had the
name of Plausible, and the other of Hopeful, Plaus-
ible being the leader, set out from Athens in search

137
138 ARISTOPHANES.

of some country where they might live at peace,
being free from the troubles of law-suits and debts.
Plausible had bought a raven and Hopeful a jack-
daw, hoping that they might be useful to them as
guides. They had a notion of finding King Tereus,
who many years before had married an Athenian
princess, and had been changed into a hoopoe, or, as
some said, a hawk; and a bird-seller in the city had
persuaded them that these creatures would help
them to do so. Tereus, if they could light upon
him, would tell them of some country or other that
he had seen in his migrations. After many wander-
ings, in which their guides, as far as they could
make out, did nothing but contradict each other and
bite their masters’ fingers, they came to a great rock,
where their guides behaved in such a way as to
make them believe that they had reached their jour-
ney’s end. Hopeful gave a kick to the rock, calling
out at the same time, ‘“ Hoopoe! Hoopoe!”

“Who wants the master?” said the porter, who
turned out to be a sandpiper. The visitors did not
by any means please him. “A couple of bird-catch-
ing villains,” he said, when he had taken a look at
them. “You shall both be put to death.” They
roundly denied that they were men. Hopeful
declared that he was a bird from Africa; Plausible
professed to come from the river Phasis.! With
some unwillingness the porter consented to call his

1 The region from which we get the pheasant.
THE BIRDS. 139 -

master who was having a sleep after his midday
meal of myrtle-berries and winged ants.

Before long King Hoopoe appeared, a majestic
creature with a triple crest, and inquired of the
strangers what they wanted. They replied that
they had come to consult him.

King Hoopoe. “Consult me? About what?”

Ffopeful, “You were once a man, as we are; you
owed money, as we do; you were glad to get off
paying it, as we are; after this you were changed
into a bird; you have flown over lands and seas, —
and have all the feelings both of a bird and of a
man; we have come therefore to you, hoping that if
. you have seen in your journeyings any snug country
where we might find a comfortable place to lie down
in, you would tell us of it.”

Kk. H. “Do you want a finer city than Athens?”

fTope. “Not a finer one certainly, but one that
would suit us better.”

KK. H. “What kind of a place are you thinking of ?”

Hope. “Why, a place where the most important
business they do is of this kind. Your friend comes
to your door the first thing in the morning and says,
_ ‘Mind you come, you and your children, dressed in
your best, for I am to give a wedding feast.’ ”

K. Hf. “Well, I know of a place that might suit
you near the Red Sea.”

Hope. “No; that won’t do. It must not be any-
where near the sea, or else I shall have the state
140 ARISTOPHANES, .

galley coming after me some fine morning, with an
order for my arrest.! But tell me, what kind of a
life do you lead among the birds here? Of course
you know all about it.”

K. H. “Not a bad one, on the whole. You can
get on without money.”

Fflope. “Then you get rid of a vast amount of
trouble.”

At this point Plausible broke in with an idea of
his own. “I see a great future,” he said, “for the
race of birds, if you will only listen to me.”

K. H. “Listen to you, — about what?”

Plausible. “Do you ask about what? First, you
mustn’t go gaping about everywhere with open bills.
It is quite an undignified thing to do. Among us,
when we see any one particularly apt to change, we
say, ‘He is a flighty, volatile creature.’ ”

K. H. “By Bacchus! you are right. Well, what
do you advise?”

Plaus. “ Found a city, I say, a city of birds.”

K. H. “Wow could we birds possibly found a
city?”

Plaus. “How can you ask? Nothing could be
easier. Look down.”

XK. Hf, “T am looking down.”

Plaus. “ Now look up.”

1 There were two state galleys belonging to Athens. One of these,
called the Se/aminia, had been sent, some months before the perform-
ance of this play, to arrest Alcibiades.
THE BIRDS. I4I

K. H. “Tam looking up.”

Plaus. “Now turn your neck round.”

K. H. “What good shall I get by ricking my
neck?”

Plaus. “Did you see anything?”

K. H. “1 saw the clouds and the sky.”

Plaus. “Well, that is the ‘pole’ of the birds.”

K. H. “Pole of the birds’! What do you mean?”

Plaus. “T mean that the birds will there get a
polity. Make a city of this, and men will be as
much in your power as if they were so many locusts ;
and as for the gods, you will starve them out just as
we starved the poor wretches in Melos.” 4

&. Hf. “ How is that to be managed ?”’

Plaus. “Don’t you see? The air is between the
gods and the earth; so, just as we, when we want
to send to Delphi, have to ask the Boeotians for a
passage, the: gods will have to come to you, and
unless they pay you a proper tribute, you won't let
the smell of the sacrifices go through your territory.”
’ K. H. “Good! good! Earth and clouds! springs
and nooses! I never heard a cleverer thing in my
life. I am quite ready to help you found the city

you talk of; that is, if the other birds agree.”

Plaus. “But who is to explain the matter to
them?”

1 The island of Melos, in the AZgean Sea, was blockaded in 416-
15 B.c. by the Athenians, and reduced to the greatest extremity of
starvation, “ Melian hunger” became a proverbial expression,
142 ARISTOPHANES.

K. H. “You. They know Greek now; before I
came among them they had only their own foreign
lingo, but I have taught them the language.”

Plaus. “And how can you collect them?”

K. H. “will just step into the thicket here and
call the nightingale. They'll come fast enough when
they hear her voice.” :

The king then summoned his herald by a song : —

“Come, gentle mate, from sleep awake ;
Begin again
The sacred strain
With which, O minstrel bird, you make
For Itys lost complaint so sweet,
That through the woodland to the feet
Of Zeus above, the song ascends,
Where golden-haired Apollo lends,
Touching his ivory-pedalled lyre,
Such answering music that the choir
Of all the blessed gods who throng
The courts of heaven join the song.” _

This was answered by a burst of music, as of the
most exquisitely played flute, from the neighbouring
thicket : — ;

“ Epopopopopopopopopopoi
Io io, ito ito, tio tio, tiu.”

Then the king began again: —

“Now come at my call,
Now come one and all,
From ploughland and plain,
Ye feeders on grain;
THE BIRDS. 143

Tio tio tio tio tio tio tio tio;
From garden and glade,
Where a shelter is made

By the ivy’s deep shade;
From mountain and hill,

Ye on berries that feed;
From marsh and from mead
Well watered and flat
Where the trumpet sounds shrill
Of your quarry, the gnat.
You, who on the swell

Of the wide-rolling sea

With the kingfisher dwell,
Come, obedient to me.
Torotorotorotorotix,
Kikkabau, kikkabau,
Torotorotorotorolililix.”

Before long a vast crowd of birds had assembled.
The king told them the business on which he had
called them together—two ambassadors from man-
kind had come to.make a proposal of great impor-
tance to the bird-nation. This announcement was
not received with any favour. Their king, the birds
declared, had betrayed them, and broken their laws.
He had introduced into their country two creatures
_of a race. which from its birth. was hostile to the bird-
nation. For this he would have to answer at some
future time; the first thing to be done was to put the
intruders to death. Accordingly the birds proceeded
to put themselves in battle array, the strangers mean-
while arming themselves with the first things that
144 ARISTOPHANES.

came ready to their hands, the lid of a pot fora
shield and a spit fora spear. The two parties were
about to come to blows, when King Hoopoe made
another effort to preserve the peace.

K. A. “Vilest of all creatures, do you intend to
kill, for no reason at all, two strangers who are my
wife’s countrymen and kinsmen ?”

Birds. “Why should we spare them? They are
the worst enemies we have.”

K. H. “Enemies, perhaps, by nature, but friends
in intention and come hither to teach us something
very useful.”

Birds. “How can they teach us anything useful?
They were our grandfathers’ enemies, and they are
ours.”

K. H. “Still, the wise learn even from their ene-
mies, caution, for instance; your friends don’t teach
you that. Isn’t it from their enemies that men learn
to build lofty walls, and ships of war, and so keep
themselves and their belongings safe?”

These arguments prevailed so far that a truce was
called. The birds gave up their hostile attitude,
and the men laid down their arms.

Plausible then proceeded to address them with
much solemnity, having first washed his hands and
put a chaplet on his head. ‘‘ My friends,” he began,
“IT am sorely troubled when I consider your present
condition, you who were kings in old time.”

Birds, “Wekings! Kings of what?”
THE BIRDS. 145

Plaus. “ Kings of everything and everybody.
You were older, you must understand, than Chronos
and the Titans and the earth.”

Sirds. “We older than the earth!”

Plaus. “Yes; it is so.”

Birds. “Well, that I never knew before.”

Plaus. “Of course not; because you have not
been properly educated. You have not read what
fEsop tells about the Lark; how his father died, and
he did not know where to bury him, because as yet
there was no earth; so he buried him in his own
head. As for the fact that birds were kings in old
time, there is an abundance of proof. Take the
Cock: he was king of Persia once, long before the
time of Darius. Isn’t. he called the ‘ Persian bird’
to this day? And isn’t it a proof of his old power,
that even now, as soon as his voice is heard in the
morning, all sorts of people — brass-workers, potters,
cobblers, and the rest of them — jump up, put on
their shoes, and go about their business, even though
it is still dark? Then the Kite was once king of the
Greeks.”

Birds. “The Kite king of the Greeks!”

_ Plaus. “Yes; don’t people make a bow to him to
this day?! Then the Cuckoo was king of Egypt
and all Phoenicia. Even now, when he cries
‘cuckoo’ these people begin to cut their corn.
Again, not so very long ago, in our own cities,

1 Just as people take off their hats to a magpie.

Io
146 ARISTOPHANES.

kings such as Agamemnon or Menelaus had a bird
sitting on their sceptres who had his share of all
the dues that they received. Zeus—and this, mark
you, is the weightiest proof of all—has an: eagle
on his head, by way of token of his kingship; and
his daughter Athené has an owl, and Apollo a
hawk. What do you suppose to be the meaning
of all this? Why, that when any sacrifice was
made to the god, the bird had his share first, —
yes, before the god himself. Yes; in old time men
thought you holy and venerable; how do they treat
you now?

“Why, they pelt you with stones, and they trap you with
snares,

And the branches on which you may light unawares
With bird-lime they smear, and all this in the pale
Of the temples they do, and they hawk you for sale,
Heaped together in baskets, and those who would buy
In most impudent fashion your plumpness will try;
And when they would cook you, it is not enough
Just to roast, but they mingle some horrible stuff
With garlic and oil and a dozen things more,
For a sauce on your delicate members to pour.”

Birds. “Oh, sad is the story you bring to our ears,
Dear stranger, I heard it with shame and with tears;
To think of our glory so sadly decayed,

The rule of our fathers so weakly betrayed;

Tis surely the happiest fortune that brings

Such a friend to our help. For if once we were kings,
Tis a shame and disgrace not to be so again;

And this is the point we would have you explain.”
THE BIRDS. 147

Plaus. “To begin with, you. birds must build one
great city and surround it with a wall of baked
bricks, just as if it were another Babylon. Then
you must send an embassy to Zeus and require him
to surrender the kingdom to you. If he refuses, or
makes any difficulty, you must forbid him and his
gods to pass through your domain on any errand or
pretext whatsoever. After this you must send a
herald to men, and bid them make their sacrifices
in future to you and not to the gods.”

K. H, “But will men really look upon us as gods
when they see us flying about and having wings?”

Plaus. “Why not? Does not Hermes use wings?
Hasn’t Victory pinions of gold? And Eros,! too?
And doesn’t Homer say that Iris flew like a ring-
dove?”

K. H. “But suppose Zeus should send his thun-
der, what then ?”’

Plaus. “Oh! we'llsoon teach them that we and not
the gods are the people to be feared. We will send
a flock of sparrows to eat up the grain in their
fields; and the ravens to pick out the eyes of their
sheep and their plough-oxen. Let Demeter feed the
_ men and Apollo heal the beasts— if they can!”

Flope. (interrupting). “Very good; but JI ‘should
like to sell my two bullocks before we try this.”

Plaus. “ But if, on the other hand, men have the
good sense to give you the honours that really belong

1 Cupid.
148 ARISTOPHANES.

to you, they will get all kinds of blessings. Say that
a flock of locusts comes when the vines are in bloom,
a troop of owls or hawks will eat them up; then as
for the maggots which spoil their figs, a flock of
thrushes will dispose of them.”

K. H. “But how shall we make them rich? That
is the thing they really care about.”

Plaus. “Easily enough. You will show them
profitable mines, and good places for trade, and will
take care that no seaman be lost.” ’

KK. H. “ How shall we manage that?”

Plaus. “When they consult the oracle about a
voyage some bird will give them information. ‘ Don’t
sail now,’ it will say, ‘there is going to be a storm’;
or, ‘Sail now; you will make a good thing of it.’”

Hope. (interrupting). “I am not going to stop with
you. | I shall buy a merchantman, and make a for-
tune by trade.”

Plaus. “Then the birds will show them treasures
that have been buried in former times. They know
all about such things. Don’t people say, ‘Nobody
knows of the hoard, except it may be a bird’?”

FTope. “1 shall sell my merchantman, buy a mat-
tock, and dig up pots full of money.”

K. H. “ How shall we give them health? Health
is a gift of the gods.”

lope. “That won’t matter much. Depend upon
it that a man is never ill if his affairs go well, and
never well if they go ill.”
. THE BIRDS. ' 149

K. H. “How about long life? That again is a
gift of heaven. Must they die in their youth?”

Plaus. “Certainly not. The birds will add three
hundred years or so to their span.”

K. H. “Where will they get them to add?”

Plaus. “Where will they get them? Why, from
their own store to be sure. Don’t you know that
the crow outlives five generations of men?”

Hope. “It is quite clear that the birds will make
much better kings than Zeus.”

Plaus. “Yes; and men will no longer have to build
temples of stone with gold-plated doors. The birds
will be quite content to live in trees; an ilex will do
for the commoner sort, and the most exalted will
have an olive-tree. There will be no more need to go
to Delphi or Ammon; men will stand in a shrubbery
with a pennyworth of barley in their hands, — that
will be sacrifice enough for these easy-going deities.”

King Hoopoe now proceeded to invite the two
friends to come into his nesting-place, as he called it;
they should be enrolled, he said, in the bird-nation.
The difficulty of their having no wings wherewith to
fly would be easily got over. There was a root he
- knew of which would make wings grow without any
loss of time. While they were gone to go through
the ceremony of becoming naturalized citizens, and to
fit themselves out with feathers, the assembled birds ~
sang a ditty in which they set forth: the superiority
of their race over men.
150 ARISTOPHANES,

“Ye children of man! whose life is a span,
Protracted with sorrow from day to day,
Naked and featherless, feeble and querulous,
Sickly, calamitous creatures of clay!
Attend to the words of the Sovereign Birds,
Immortal, illustrious, lords of the air,
'. Who survey from on high, with a merciful eye,
Your struggle of misery, labour, and care.
All lessons of primary, daily concern
You have learnt from the Birds and continue to learn.
When the crane flies away to the Libyan sands,
The farmer bethinks him of sowing his lands,
And the seaman his rudder unships, for no more ©
Can he venture to sail, till the winter is o’er;
Then the spring is at hand, when the hawk reappears,
And the shepherd who sees him gets ready his shears;
When the swallow comes back, then your cloak you may sell,
A light, summer vest will do perfectly well;
For all matters of moment it clearly appears
The Birds are your oracles, prophets, and seers;
We give counsel and aid when a marriage is made,
A purchase, a bargain, a venture in trade;
An ox or an ass that may happen to pass;
A voice in the street or a slave that you meet;
A name or a word that by chance you have heard,
If you think it an omen you call it a bird.t
If youll make us your gods, at all seasons you'll find
We are equally helpful and equally kind;
We sha’n’t hurry off, sitting scornful and proud,
In the fashion of Zeus, on the top of a cloud.
We shall ever be near you to help and to bless;

1 The word for “bird” signifies “omen” also, The flight of birds
was, both with the Greeks and Romans, a common method of divining
the future.
THE BIRDS, 151

To you and your children we'll give to possess

All things that are good, — life, happiness, health,
Peace, plenty, and laughter, and feasting and wealth;
For, what is the most unattainable thing?

‘Pigeons’ milk ’— and that in abundance we'll bring,
Till the general plenty among you be such

That your only complaint will be having too much.”

By this time the two friends had come back,
equipped for the functions which they would have
in future to perform. . The first thing to be done was
to give the new city a name. “Cloud Cuckoo Land”?!
was finally settled upon, and the tutelary deity was to
be a gamecock. The builders were set to work, and
an inaugurating sacrifice was performed to the new
deities. This had scarcely been done when a poet
appeared on the scene, with a ready-made ode.

“Muse, prepare a noble ditty,
Hymning with your choicest lay,
This the new-built, happy city,
Nephelo-Coccugia.”

Plaus. “What have we got here? Who are you,
sir?”
Poet. “Singer of melodious strain,
Servant in the Muses’ train.”

Plaus. “ A servant with long hair!”

Poet. “All who teach the art of song are ‘ser-
vants of the Muses,’ as Homer puts it.”

Plaus. “Well, what have you come here for?”

1The Greek word is “ Nephelo-Coccugia.”
152 ARISTOPHANES.

Poet. “T have brought an assortment of verses, —
some epic poems, songs for a chorus of girls, and a
trifle in Sirnonides’s manner.”

Plaus. “But when did you make all these?”

Poet. “Long have I named this city’s noble name.”

Plaus. “Well, that is odd, for I’ve only just given
it.”

Poet. “Faster than steed to the Muses’ court

Ever is carried the swift report.
But thou who hast founded this noble state

Haste to my needs to dedicate
Some kindly gift, be it small or great.”

Plaus. “This fellow will give us a lot of trouble
unless we get rid of him. You there (speaking to a
slave) — you have got a jerkin as well as a tunic.
Give him the jerkin. So clever a poet well deserves
it. There, poet, take the jerkin. You seem very cold.”

Poet. “My patron, thanks! The friendly Muse
This little boon will not refuse,
Yet hath another lay for thee,
A strain of Pindar’s minstrelsy.”

Plaus. “We are not going to get rid of him just
yet, I see.”

Poet. “Among the wandering tribes that stray
O’er Scythian plains he makes his way,
A bard ill-clad and all alone,
No woven garment doth he own;
Harken! my meaning canst thou guess,
He wears a jerkin tunic-less.”
THE BIRDS. 153

Plaus, “T guess that you want the tunic. Here,
fellow; off with it. You ought to help a poor poet.”

The next visitor was a dealer in prophecies. “Stop
the sacrifice,” he cried, as soon as he appeared; “I
have a prophecy of Bacis that speaks expressly about
Cloud Cuckoo Land.”

Plaus. “But why did we not hear of it before the
city was founded ?”

Soothsayer. “The divine voice forbade me.”

Plaus, “Well, there is nothing like having the
words.”

Sooth. “In the days when the jackdaws and crows shall
unite, - :
Midway between Corinth and Sicyon’s height,
A fair city to build —”

Plaus. “ But what have I got to do with Cor-
inth?”

Sooth. “Oh! Bacis meant the air under the figure
of Corinth, —

“A fair city to build, you must offer a goat
Milk-white to Pandora, presenting a coat
Without spot, and of sandals a handsome new pair,
To the man who this prophecy first shall declare.”

Plaus. “ Does he mention the sandals?”

Sooth. “Yes; look at the book. But listen
again :—

“And a cup he must have and some flesh for his share.”

Plaus. “Does he mention the flesh ?”
154 ARISTOPHANES.

Sooth. “Yes; look at the book. But he goes
on.—
“My bidding obey, noble youth, and you fly,
To an eagle transformed, through the realms of the sky ;

Refuse, neither eagle nor dove will you be,
Nor even a woodpecker tapping a tree.”

Plaus. “ Does he say all that?”

Sooth. “Yes; look at the book.”

Plaus. “Do you know that the prophecy that I
have got —and I wrote it down from the very lips of
Apollo — is quite different. Listen : —

“When you sacrifice first, should some vagabond dare,
Whom you have not invited, to ask for a share,
Smite him hard in the ribs, I command you, nor care
For his eagles that fly in the regions of air.”

Sooth, “ That is nonsense.”

“Look at the book!” cried Plausible; and, pro-
ducing a stout cudgel, he drove the fellow away.

The next arrival was an astronomer, carrying some
mathematical instruments, with which he proposed
to measure out and survey the territory of the new
state. He was no more welcome than his predeces-
sor. Plausible professed to respect him, and indeed
to see in him another Thales; but gave him some
friendly advice to the effect that he had better be
going about his business. There was trouble brew-
ing, he said; it was likely that all strangers would
be expelled from the country, especially strangers of
THE BIRDS. 155

the impostor kind. This was a hint that the astron-
omer could not but take. “I am off,’ he said. —
“Very good,” said Plausible ; “but you are scarcely
in time. The trouble is come,” he added, adminis-
tering a sound cuff. “ There,” he said, ‘you can
measure your way back, I suppose.”

Next came an inspector from Athens. “ Where
is the consul?” he asked, as he strutted in.

Plaus. “Who is this Sardanapalus?”?

Insp. “1 am the duly appointed inspector to the
city of Cloud Cuckoo Land.”

Plaus. “ An inspector, are you? Well, don’t you
think you might take your fees at once, and go back
without giving us any trouble?”

Insp. “A good idea that! I did want to stop at
home, and propose something in the Assembly. I
have some business in hand for the Persians.”

Plaus. (striking him). “Here is your pay; take it,
and off with you!”

Insp. “JT protest that I, an inspector from Athens,
am being assaulted.” :

Plaus. “Off with you, ballot-boxes and all. The
idea of sending an inspector before we have even
sacrificed!” ,

1 The word in the original may be translated “ Public Entertainer.”
In the Greek cities there were officials whose business it was to enter-
tain envoys and other visitors who came in a public capacity. Each
important state would have its own. Our consuls in foreign towns. are,
perhaps, the nearest approach that we can find.

2 The last king of Assyria, whose name had passed into a proverb
for luxury.
156: - s ARISTOPHANES.

The next interruption came from a merchant who
had a brand-new constitution to sell. Plausible
treated him with as little ceremony as the others,
and then, despairing of quiet, resolved to finish the
sacrifice indoors. When everything had been duly
performed, with, as it appeared, the happiest omens
for the future, a messenger appeared, to announce
the completion of the wall. So broad it was that
two chariots could be driven on it side by side, while
it was no less than a hundred fathoms high. The
speed with which so vast a work had been completed
astonished Plausible, and he demanded particulars.
“Who had done it?”

First Messenger. “Do you ask who did it? The
birds, and nobody else. There wasn’t an Egyptian
bricklayer, or mason, or carpenter. They did it all
themselves. Iwas amazed to see it. About thirty _
thousand Cranes! came from Africa. They had swal-
lowed the stones with which to build the fortifica-
tions. These the Water-rails worked up with their
beaks. Ten ‘thousand Storks laid the bricks, and the
Curlews and River-birds brought water. The Herons
carried the mud, and the Geese trod it with their
broad feet. The Ducks were the bricklayers’ labour-
ers, and the Woodpeckers did the carpentering. And
now the work is finished, —gates, and staples, and
bars; the sentries are set, the beacons are in the
towers; in fact, everything is ready.”

1 Cranes were supposed to swallow stones to steady their flight.
THE BIRDS. 157

A second messenger now arrived, but his news
was less satisfactory. One of the gods had bolted
through the gates, in spite of the Jackdaws on guard.
What god he was, no one knew, but only that he
had wings. However, a squadron of thirty thousand
Hawks had been sent after him. He could not have
gone far. . Indeed, almost before the messenger had
finished, the intruder came flying back. It was Iris,
the messenger of Zeus, clad in the colours of the
rainbow.

Plaus. “What is your name, may I ask?”

Iris. “Tris of the swift foot.”

Plaus. “Why does not some one take her into cus-
tody 2

lris, “Take me into custody! What madness is

_this ?”

Plaus. “You will repent of this.”

fris. “This is really too absurd.”

Plaus, “Tell me which gate you came in by.”

fvis. “T know nothing about your gates.”

Plaus. “See how she pretends to be ignorant.
Did you go to the General of the Jackdaws? or can
you show the seal of the Storks?”

_ fris. “Is the man in his senses?”

Plaus. “Then I understand that none of the bird-
commanders gave you a pass.”

Ivis. “Gave me a pass indeed!”

Plaus. “How dare you then come quietly flying
through other people’s city, through the air, in fact?”
158 ARIS TOPHANES.

Iris. “What other way can we fly from heaven to
earth?” ;

Plaus. “That I can’t say ; you are not going to
fly this way. Do you know that it would serve you ~
right if you were put to death?”

fris. “Put to death! But I am an Immortal.”

Plaus. “That makes no difference. It would be a
terrible state of things, if, while everybody else sub-
mits to us, you gods are rebellious, and won’t under-
stand that we are your masters. But tell me, where
were you flying to?”

Iris, “1? J was flying from Father Zeus to tell
men that they must sacrifice sheep and oxen as usual
to the Olympian gods.”

Plaus. “What gods do you say?”

Iris. “What gods? The gods in heaven, of
course,” Op gua

Plaus. “Do you call yourselves gods?”

/vis.. What others are there?”

Plaus. “The birds are now gods. It is to. them
that sacrifice must be made, not, by Zeus! to Zeus.”

| Tris, “F ool, fool, stir not the gods’ most awful wrath,
Lest Justice, wielding Zeus’s strong pickaxe, smite
Thy race to utter ruin, and the bolt, :
Descending in the lightnings’ lurid flame,
Thee and thy dwelling’s last recess consume.”

FPlaus. “Listen thyself. Cease now thy vaporous. threats ;
Be silent; think not that in me thou seest
Some Lydian slave or Phrygian whom the sound |
Of bombast hyperbolical may scare.



THE BIRDS. 159

For if thy Zeus shall vex me more, I send
My eagles armed with firebrands who shall lay
The towers of heaven in ashes. And for thee,
Madam, depart in haste and shun thy fate.”

Iris. “My father shall speak to you.”

Plaus. “No, no, my dear; you must find some
younger man.”’?

Iris immediately flew off skywards.

A herald now arrived with the news of the extraor-
dinary popularity of the birds among mankind.
Everybody was devoted to them. Before the new
city was founded Spartan ways were all the fashion.
Men walked about the streets with their hair long,
half-starved themselves, and did as little washing as
Socrates. Now, birds were the rage— men rose
with the lark, hatched plots against each other, in
fact did their best to make themselves like winged
creatures. The new city must therefore prepare for
a great immigration. There would be at least ten
thousand applications for citizenship, and all the new-
comers would of course want wings. Of these the
authorities of Cloud Cuckoo Land at once set them-
selves to lay ina store. While they were thus en-
gaged the new arrivals began to drop in. The first
was a young fellow who sang as he came : —

“Td fain be an eagle who soars on high,
O’er the land and the rolling sea to fly.”

1 He affects to understand her as referring him to her father, as a
girl might refer a suitor who aspired to her hand.
160 ARISTOPHANES.

Plaus. “The news was true. Here comes a fellow
singing about eagles.”

Young Man. “Of all things flying is the most
delightful. I am in love with your laws, my dear
birds, and want to live under them.”

Plaus. “What law in particular are you so fond
of 2?”

Y. M. “The one that makes it lawful for a young
bird to kick his father.”

Plaus. “Yes; we do think it a fine thing for a
chicken to get the better of his father.”

Y. M. “That is why I want to migrate. My idea
is to strangle my father and take possession of his
property.”

Plaus. “But, sir, we have a law that the young:
cranes must support their father,”

Y. M. “Support my father indeed! That would
not suit me at all.”

Plaus. “Well, my young friend, I will give you a
piece of advice. You seem fond of fighting. Go off
to Thrace, and have your fill of it there. But you
will hardly do for us.” .

The next arrival was a lyric poet, who wanted
wings, that he might mount into the clouds, and
search among them for fine ideas. After him came
an informer, who thought it would be very conven-
ient if he could fly from place to place in search of
victims, without any of the dangers of travel. All
that he got was what Plausible called a slashing pair
THE BIRDS. 161

of wings, but was really a cowhide whip very vigor-
ously applied. ee

But now came a more important visitor, Prome-
theus, wrapped up in a close disguise and in a terrible
fright lest Zeus should see him. At last, finding
from his inquiries that all was safe, he came out
from his concealment and was heartily welcomed.

Plaus. “My dear Prometheus!”

Prometheus. “Wush! hush! Don’t make a noise.”

Plaus. “What is the matter ?”’

Pro. “Don’t mention my name. I am undone if
Zeus sees me. Here, hold this umbrella over me
while we talk.” tr

Plaus. “Very goody an excellent idea of yours.
It is all safe; talk away.”

Pro. “Zeus is ruined.”

Plaus. “Since when?”

Pro. “Since you built your city. From that time
we have not had the smell of a single sacrifice
from earth. We are simply starving; and the end
of it is that the barbarian gods vow that they will
invade the realm of Zeus, unless he consents to
open the ports and to let sacrifice smoke enter free.”

Plaus. “Barbarian gods! I did not know that
there were such beings. What is their name?”

Pro, “Triballi. But listen. You will. have an
embassy coming: here very soon from Zeus and the
Triballi. But don’t you make peace unless Zeus

restores the sovereignty to the birds, and gives you
the lady Queenship to wife.”

It
162 ARISTOPHANES.

Plaus. “Who is the lady Queenship ?”

Pro. “The prettiest girl in the world. She keeps
Zeus’s thunderbolts for him, and, in fact, everything
that he has got, — order, temperance, the navy, and
the jurymen’s fees.”

Plaus. “She’s his general steward, you mean.”

Pro, “Just so. Get her, and you get everything.
This is what I came to tell you. I was always
partial to men, you know.”

Plaus. “Very true. It is only you we have to
thank for being able to cook our victuals.”

Pro. “Yes; and I hate the gods.”

Plaus. “Very true again; that was always your
way.” 3

Pro. “Yes. I am a regular Timon! But now
hold the umbrella over me. If Zeus should see me
he’ll only think I am walking in a procession.” ®

Prometheus had scarcely gone, when the embassy
arrived. There were three envoys, Poseidon, Her-
cules, and a Triballian god.

Poseidon (addressing the Triballian), “ “What are
you doing there? Is that the way to wear your

1 The story was that Prometheus stole fire from heaven, and by this
gift civilized man. For this Zeus punished him by chaining him to a
rock in Caucasus. Timon, the famous misanthrope, was a contem-
porary of Aristophanes, He is spoken of in another of the comedies of
Aristophanes, as well as in fragments of plays by other writers.

* The daughters of aliens resident in Athens (metoect) used to carry
umbrellas over the Athenian maidens that walked in procession at the
great festival of Athené.
THE BIRDS. 163

cloak? Not on the left like that; on the right.side
always. Democracy, what are you bringing us to,
when a fellow like that is put on an embassy?”
Triballian (to Poseidon, who ts trying to arrange his
cloak).. “ Hands off, will you?” ,
Pos. “Confound you!—the most barbarous god I
ever saw! Well, Hercules, what are we to do?”
Flercules. “ You heard my opinion. Throttle the
villain.”
Pos. “But we came to treat for a peace.”
Fler. “T don’t care. I say, throttle the villain.”
Plausible took no notice whatever of the new arri-
vals. “Give me the cheese-grater,’ he said to his
assistant. “Now a little cheese; now a blast with
the bellows.”
fer. “Man, we three gods greet you heartily.”
Plaus. “ Grate the cheese.”
Hercules, always a great eater, and now furiously
hungry, was profoundly interested. in the cooking,
_and could not help showing it. ‘What meat is this?”
Plaus. “Certain birds rebelled against the bird-
state, and were condemned to death.”
fler. “ And you are grating cheese over them.”
_ Plaus. “OQ my dear Hercules, how are you?
What brings you here?” ~
fer. “We have come from the gods to treat for
peace.”
A slave. “There is no oil in the flask, sir.”

Plaus. “Get some, my man; bird-meat must have
plenty of oil with it.”
164 ARISTOPHANES,

Her. “The war brings us no good. As for you,
by being on good terms with us you can always have
rain in your cisterns, and always fine weather. We
have come, you will understand, with full powers to
treat.”

Plaus. “Well, we did not begin the war, you .
know, and we are quite ready to make peace, if you
are willing to do the right thing. Give back to the
birds the power which they once possessed, and the
matter is settled. On these terms I invite the am-
bassadors to breakfast.”’

Her. “These terms satisfy me; I vote for accept-
ing them.” Bi

Pos. “You are a fool and a glutton. Are you
going to rob your father of his kingdom?” 2

Plaus. “ Don’t you think that you gods will be.all
the more powerful if we birds rule the lower region ?
As things are now, men take your name in vain,
because you can’t see them for the clouds. Call the
birds to help you, and as soon as any rascal for-
swears himself, a crow will have his eye out in a
trice.”

Pos. “That is well put.”

Her, “ And so I think.”

Pos. (to the Triballian). “And what is your
. opinion ?”

Trib. “Say true.” }
1 The jargon which is put into the Triballian’s mouth is nabaisatreu.

The last six letters, as Frere remarks, make the English words “ say
true,”






HERCULES AND PosEIDON.
THE BIRDS. 165

Plaus. “He agrees, you see. Then, again, men
make vows, and are a long time in paying them.
‘The gods are easy creditors,’ they say. Well, we
will set that right for you.”

Pos. “* How?”

' Plaus. “When the man is counting out his money,
a hawk will fly down, snatch the price of a couple of
sheep, and carry it off.”

Her. “I vote to give back the kingdom to the
birds.”

Plaus. “ Ask the Triballian what he thinks.”

Her. (showing his fist to the Triballian). “Vote
yes, or you shall suffer for it.”

Trib. “Ya, ya, goot, goot.”

Pos. “Well, if you think so, I agree.”

Plaus. “There is another little matter which I
have just remembered. Zeus may keep Heré, but I
must have the lady Queenship to wife.”

Pos. “1 see you don’t really want peace; we shall
go.”

Plaus. “1 don’t care. Cook, take care to make
the sauce sweet enough.”

Her. “My good Poseidon, are we to have war
just about a mere woman ?”

Pos. “What are we to do then?”

Her. “Make peace, I say.”

Pos. “Don’t you see, you silly fellow, how you
are being cheated? Supposing Zeus should die,
when he has handed over the kingdom to this fel-
166 ARISTOPHANES.

low here, you would be a beggar. Otherwise, of
course, all the property he may leave will come to
you.”

Plaus. “Now, Hercules, listen to me. Your uncle
is cheating you; you are not a legitimate son, and
you would have nothing. Your father couldn’t
leave you his property even if he wished to-do
‘it. ‘Failing legitimate children, to the testator’s
brother,’ that is how the law runs. Your uncle
would have it all. Now, put in your lot with us,
and I'll make it worth your while.”

fer. “You are quite right about the girl I’m
for giving her up.”

Pos. “TI vote against the proposition.”

Plaus. “The matter rests with the Triballian.
Triballian, what do you say ?”

Trib. “Pitty girli and great Queendi I give to
Birdi.”

Pos. “Well, have your own way; I shall say
nothing now.”

Plausible, accordingly, departed to heaven to fetch
his bride, Hercules staying behind to look after the
cooking. In a very short time he returned, bring-
ing the fair lady with him, and was greeted with a
song of welcome from his subjects : —

“Stand aside and clear the ground,
Spreading in a circle round
With a wor hy welcoming ;
To salute our noble king,
THE BIRDS. 167

In his splendour and his pride,
Coming hither, side by side,
With his lovely, happy bride.
Oh, the fair, delightful face!
What a figure! what a grace!
What a presence! what a carriage!
What a noble, worthy marriage!
Let the birds rejoice and sing
At the wedding of their king,
Raising to the vanquished sky
Sound of lyre and pean high.”




VII.
tb. THE FROGS.

._: This play was exhibited at the Lenzean festival in 405 B.C. Its
main purpose may be described as critical, ze, it is intended to satirize
the dramatic art, the style, and the morality of Euripides. This poet,
as well as his great rival Sophocles, had died in the preceding year;
and Bacchus, finding Athens without-any tolerable tragedian at all, —
Aristophanes is willing to concede that there might be worse poets
even than Euripides, — proposes to make a journey to the regions of
the dead to bring him back, :

ONcE upon a time two travellers, a master and his
slave, might have been seen making their way across
the market-place of Thebes. The master was attired
in the saffron-coloured robe commonly worn at the
festivals of Bacchus, and had on his legs the buskins
used by the actors in tragedy to give them additional
height; but these garments contrasted oddly enough
with the lion’s skin which was wrapped round his
shoulders and the heavy club which he carried in his
hand. This was, in fact, Bacchus. We shall soon
learn why he had thus disguised himself, and what
he had come for. Behind him came his slave Xan-
thias, riding on a donkey, and carrying on his shoul-
ders a heavy knapsack, which contained his master’s
luggage.’ This burden seemed to distress the poor
fellow very much, and he grumbled greatly at its

168






BACCHUS AND XANTHIAS.
THE FROGS. 169

weight, not being much consoled by his master’s
assurance that it was really the donkey that carried
both him and it. “All the same, I feel it on my
shoulders,” said the man. — “ Well,” replied the mas-
ter, “if you say the donkey is no use to you, why
don’t you get down and take a turn at carrying the
donkey ?”’

They had reached by this time the house for which
they were bound. It was that in which Hercules
lived; and Bacchus, who assumed a certain swagger,
as being suitable to his equipment, kicked loudly at
the door. ‘“Who’s that?” cried Hercules from with-

in. “It might have been a centaur kicking.”—“ You
see how afraid of me he is,” said Bacchus in an aside
to his slave. — “ Afraid!” replied Xanthias ; ‘he was

only afraid you were mad.” And indeed Hercules
did seem to think that his visitor was out of his mind.
So queer was his appearance that he could not help
laughing. ‘What do you want?” he said; “what
do you mean by your buskins and your club?”
Bacchus. “ Now, brother, don’t laugh at me; I am
really suffering a great deal. I do want Euripides
so. He is dead, you know, and I have made up my
mind to go and look for him.”
Hercules. “What? down to Hades?”
_ Bac. “Yes, and further too, if need be.”’
Her. “What do you want?” :
Bac. “A good poet. The good poets are dead,
and those who are alive are not good.”
170 ARIS TOPHANES.

ler. “But you have got Iophon.”

Bac. “Yes; he’s the only one,.and I don’t feel
certain about him.”

Her. “Tf you must bring back a poet, why not
Sophocles, who is much to be preferred to Euripides?”

Bac. “ Ah! but, you see, I want to get Iophon by
himself, and see what he can do without his father.!
And then, Euripides is just the rascal who would be
ready to run away. As for Sophocles, he is sure to”
be contented there, as he was here.”

Her. “How about Agathon?”

Bac. “Hehas gone. An excellent poet he was,
and his friends miss him very much.”

Her. “But where has he gone?”

Bac. “Oh! to a better country.” ?

Hler. “But surely you have ten thousand and
more young fellows that write tragedies, who could
give Euripides more than a furlong in chattering
and beat him.”

Bac. “O yes, I know them! the last leavings of

1 Tophon was the son of Sophocles, and gained some brilliant suc-
cesses during his father’s lifetime; but, as Aristophanes hints, it was
possible that he might have been assisted. Only a few lines of his
tragedies survive.

2This might mean that Agathon was dead. It is probable, how-
ever, that it alludes to a visit paid by Agathon about this time to the
court of Archelaus, king of Macedonia (413-399). He is supposed
to have died in 400. Elsewhere Aristophanes speaks less favourably
of him. It was in Agathon’s house that Plato laid the scene of his
famous dialogue called 7he Banguet. The occasion is supposed to have

been the first victory won by him in the competition of tragedies. This
was in 416 B.C.
THE FROGS. 171

the vintage, the poorest chatterboxes in the world.
They try one play, and then we see no more of
them. But I know no one who dares venture on
a really fine thing.”
fler. “What do you mean?”
Bac. “Well, something of this kind: —
‘High heaven, residence of Zeus,’
- ‘Time’s viewless foot,’
or
‘A soul that reverenced the oaths of heaven,
A tongue still perjured, from the soul apart.’”

Her. “ And you like that sort of thing?”

Bac. “1am simply crazy for it.”

fer. “T call it abominable rubbish.”

Bac. “Indeed; now if you were to give us your
opinion about dining it might be worth having.
However, I will explain why I have come dressed
up in this fashion like you. I want you to tell me
what friends you stayed with when you went down
after Cerberus, and all about the provision shops,
and the harbours, and the roads, and the springs,
and the inns where there were fewest fleas.”

fer. “ Are you really thinking of going?”

Bac. “Yes; on that point I want to hear nothing
more. But tell me the shortest way down. Mind,
it must not be too hot or too cold.”

Fler. “Well, let me think. Which is the best?
There is a good road by the Rope and Noose. You
hang yourself, you know.”
172 ARIS TOPHANES.

Bac. ‘Too choky by far.”

Fler. “Then there is a very short cut by the
Pestle and Mortar.”

Bac. “Do you mean the hemlock road?”

Her. “ Certainly.”

Bac. “Too cold and wintry for me. One’s hands
and feet get so numb.”

Fler. “Come, shall I tell you the quickest and
most direct of all?”

Bac. “Yes, yes; Iam but a poor traveller.”

Fler. “Stroll down, then, to the Potter’s Quarter ;!
climb to the top of the tower, and watch till the
torch race begins, ave when the people ay ‘They’re
off!’ off with you.”

Bac. “ Off where?”

Fler. “Why, down to the bottom.”

Bac. “Yes, and lose two platefuls of brain? Not
that way for me, thank you.” .

Fler. “ How do you intend to go, then?”

Bac. “ By the way that you went, to be sure.”

fer. “ But that’s a long journey. First, you will
come to a very big lake without any bottom.”

Bac. “How am I to get over?”

ffer. “Oh! there’s an old sailor with a tiny boat,
just so big (spans a length of five or six feet), will
ferry you over for a groat.” .

Bac. “ Ah! a groat means something everywhere.”

1 The Ceramicus, where the bodies of Athenian citizens killed in
battle were buried.
THE FROGS. 173

ffer. “ After this, you will find a great slough of
mire and filth in which lie all sorts of villains, men
who have robbed their friends, or boxed their father’s
ears, or perjured themselves, or copied out one of
Morsimus’s speeches.1 This once passed, your ears
will be greeted with the soft breathing of flutes, and
you will see a very lovely light, and happy troops of
men and women, who will tell you all you want to
know; and now good by, brother.”

Bac. “Good by. Xanthias, take up the baggage.”

Xanthias. “Take it up! I have never put it
down.”

Bac. “No nonsense! Take it up at once.”

Aan. “But won’t you hire one of the dead people
who are going this way to carry it?”

Bac. “A good idea! Ho! you dead man there,
will you carry some baggage to Hades? M

Dead Man. “ How much is there?”

Bac. “What you see there.”

D. M. “Down with a couple of shillings, if we
are to have a deal.”

Bac. “Won't you take eighteen pence?”

D. M. “Vd sooner come to life again.”

an. “ What airs the fellow puts on! I'll go.”

Bac. “You are a really good fellow. Come
along.”

In course of time they came to the lake of which
Hercules had spoken. The old sailor was there,

1 Morsimus was an indifferent tragic poet.
174 ARISTOPHANES.

calling out, “Any one for Happy Despatch, or
the Pig-shearers, or Cerberus Reach, or the Isle of
Dogs?” Bacchus stepped on board with many en-
treaties to the boatman to be careful; but Xanthias
was not allowed to follow. “I take no slaves,” said
the old man, “except they are volunteers.”! Ac-
cordingly he had to run round and wait for his master
on the other side.

“In with you,” said Charon to his passenger.
“Anybody else for the further side? Now to your
oar.”

Every one was expected to work his passage,

“What are you after there?” cried the ferryman ;
for the passenger was sitting on the oar, not at it.

“Wasn’t this what you told me to do?” replied
the god.

“Sit on the bench there, Corpulence, and forward
with your hands.”

Bacchus stretched his hands out, but without the
oar.

“No more nonsense,” cried Charon ; “ but set to,
and row with a will.”

Bac. “ How can I, when I have never been to sea
in my life?”

1 When the Athenians made a supreme effort and manned at a few
days’ notice a large fleet to relieve Conon, who was blockaded by the
Spartans in the harbour of Mitylene, slaves were permitted to volun-
teer, and received their freedom. The victory of Argimone, the last

success gained by Athens in the Peloponnesian war, was the result of
this effort,
THE FROGS. 175

Charon. “You will do it easily enough. Just dip
your oar in, and you'll hear the sweetest singing you
ever heard in your life.”

And, indeed, the next moment the frogs in the
lake began a strain : —

“ Brekekex, koax, koax,
Brekekex, koax, koax,
All ye children of the Jake,
Join your voices till you make
Sweetest harmony of song
For the revellers’ merry throng.
Brekekex, koax, koax.”
Bac. “But I’m getting very sore
As I labour with the oar
Now have done there with your noise.”
Frogs. “Brekekex, koax, koax.”
Bat. “Oh, confound you with- your koax :*
Frogs. “But the minstrel Pan enjoys
The sweet music of our voices,
And the Muses’ tuneful choir
In our singing much rejoices,
And Apollo with his lyre.
Brekekex, koax, koax.”
Bac. “ But Ive blisters on my hands,
O ye music-loving crew;
*Tis the god himself commands
That ye make no more ado.”
Frogs. “But our voices we will raise
All the louder, while we sing,
How in sunny summer days
Through the reed and rush we spring.
Brekekex, koax, koax.”
Bac. “T forbid you to proceed.”
176 ARISTOPHANES,

frogs. “No; that would be hard indeed.”

Bac. “Yes; but.I should suffer more
Overstraining with the oar.”

frogs. “Brekekex, koax, koax.”

Bac. “Have you nothing else to say ?”

frogs. “We'll make music all the day,
And as loudly as we may.
Brekekex, koax, koax.”

Bac. “But I'll beat you at your game.”
frogs. “We shall go on all the same.”
Ba. “Will you, then? But I will shout,

If "tis needful, all the day,

Till I beat your noisy rout,

And your dismal music stay.”
frogs. “Brekekex, koax, koax.”

In due course the boat reached the further shore.
Bacchus paid his fare, and, stepping out, began call-
ing for his slave. Xanthias appeared, and. congratu-
lated his master on his safe arrival.

Bac. “What is that before us?”

an. “The darkness and mire that Hercules told
us of.”

Bac. “ Have you seen any of the parricides and
murderers?”

Xan, “ Have not you?”

Bac. “Certainly I have, and do at this moment ;
and not very far off, either.” 1

Xan. “Well, master, I think that we had better
be going on, for this is the place where he said the
dreadful monsters were.”

1 This was said with a glance at the spectators. Aristophanes fre-
quently banters them with this somewhat savage playfulness.
THE FROGS. 177

Bac. “ Oh, that’s all nonsense! The fact is, Her-
cules was jealous of me. He knew what a plucky
fellow I was, and wanted to frighten me. I do
really wish to have some little adventure that might
make it worth while for me to have come so far.”

Xan. “O master! I hear a noise.”

Bac. “Where, where?”

Xan. “ Just behind us.”

Bac. “Get behind then, can’t you?”

Xan. “Oh! now I seem to hear it just in front.”

Bac. “ Get in front.”

Xan. “ Dear me, I see a monster.”

Bac. “What is it like?”

Xan, “All sorts of things. Now it’s an ox, and
now it’s a mule, and now it’s a woman, and now it’s
a dog.”

Bac. “Tt must be the Vampyre.”

Xan. “Its face is all ablaze with fire.”

Bac. “ Has it one leg of brass?”

Aan, “Yes; and the other of cow-dung.: Oh!
we are lost, King Hercules.”

Bac. “For heaven’s sake, don’t call me that!”

Xan. “ Bacchus, then.”

Bac. “Oh! that’s still worse. Dear me, what
shall I do?”

Xan. “Courage, master; all’s well; the Vampyre’s
gone.”

The two travellers now proceeded on their way
till they found themselves in front of a building

12
178 ARISTOPHANES.

which they were assured was the palace of Pluto.
“How shall I knock?” Bacchus inquired. “ How
do people knock in these parts?” —“ ‘Knock away,
master,” the slave replied, “just as Hercules would. ig
— ‘Who is there?” called’ out AZacus the: porter
from within. —“The mighty. Hercules, ” was the
reply. The result was unexpected. The door was
flung open, and the porter overwhelmed the visitor
with a torrent of abuse.

“© wretch audacious, shameless, horrible,
O villain trebly dyed and far beyond
All possible counting, you that stole away
Our watch-dog Cerberus, my special charge,
Half-strangled in your grasp. Now, villain, now
We have you fast. For these high Stygian cliffs,
Black-hearted, and the gory-dropping rock
Of Acheron hem thee in, with. those fell hounds |
That haunt Cocytus; and about thee raves
The hundred-headed Hydra that shall tear
Thy vitals, while the monstrous snake that haunts
The Western seas shall strangle in her grasp :
Midriff and heart —and even now I lift
A hasty foot to fetch them.”

Bac. “Oh, what a terrible noise! Xanthias,
weren’t you frightened?” . .

Xan. “Nota bit; never gave a thought to them.”

Bac. “Well, you are a brave fellow. Come now,
you shall be me. Take the lion’s skin and the club,
and I’ll carry the baggage.” : .

Xan. “Now mark the Xanthias- Hercules, and see
if he shows the white feather.”
THE FROGS. 179

The transformation had hardly been effected when
a maid-servant from Proserpine’s palace appeared
upon the scene, with a warm invitation for Hercules.
“Ags soon as she knew of your coming,” said the
girl, “her Majesty set to work making fresh loaves,
boiled two or three pots of porridge, roasted an
ox whole, and cooked a quantity of cheese-cakes.
Come in, if you please.”

Xan. “Thank your mistress very much, but — ?

Servant. “Oh, we can’t excuse you— we have
boiled fowl, and sweetmeats, and the best wine that
can be got.” :

Xan. “Well, as you are so pressing. Come after
me, my man, with the bundles.”

Bac. “Ok, nonsense, man! You did not think I
was in earnest about this changing clothes? Come,
you'll carry the baggage again.”

Xan. “Surely you are not going to take away the
lion’s skin and the club?”

Bac. “Oh, but I am! down with them this mo-
ment.”

Xan. “I make appeal to the high gods in heaven.”

Bac. “Gods indeed! How could you fancy that
you could pass for the son of Alcmena, a mere man,
a mere slave?”

Xan. “Very well, take the things, but you may
want me after all.”

Two women who kept eating-houses in those re-
gions now appeared. :
180 ARISTOPHANES.

“ Plathané, Plathané,” cried one to the other,
“here’s that villain come again who ate those six-
teen loaves!”

Second Woman. “Yes, by Zeus! it is the very
man.”

Xan. “Some one is in a scrape.”

First Woman. “ Aye, and he ate besides twenty
cutlets at threepence each.”

Xan. “Some one is in for it.”

First W. “And a whole lot of garlic.”

Bac. “Nonsense, woman! I don’t know what you
are talking about.” .

First W. “Ah! you thought I should not know
you because you had buskins on. And I haven’t
mentioned the salt fish.”

Second W. “No; nor the green cheese which the
fellow ate up, baskets and all, and when I asked him
for the money he looked so fierce, and bellowed so.” .

Xan. “Just like him. That’s his way everywhere.”

Second W. “And he out with his sword, just like
a madman, but I scrambled up into the loft. And
what did he do but go off with our mattresses.”

Xan. “ Another trick of his.”

First W. “Tell Cleon to come. He’s my counsel.”

Second W. “Mine is Hyperbolus, if you should
see him.”

First W. “Ah! you villain, how I should like to
knock out those greedy teeth with which you ate up
a poor woman’s living, aye, and rip up your throat ”
THE FROGS. 181

Bac. “Curse me, if I am not very fond of Xan-_
thias !”

Xan. “I know what you want. It is of no use
your saying. I cannot possibly be Hercules.”

Bac. “Don’t say so, my dear fellow.”

Xan. “But how could I be the son of Alcmena,
‘a mere man, a mere slave’?”

Bac. “I know that you are angry, and I don’t
blame you. If you were to strike me, I could not
object. But do take the things once more; and if
I take them again, may I perish, I and my wife and
my children and all that I have.”

Xan. “J accept on these terms.”

At this point AZacus reappeared with some attend-
ants, and attempted to arrest the false Hercules for
having stolen Cerberus. Xanthias, however, suc-
ceeded in beating them off, while Bacchus protested
that it was monstrous that the culprit should add an
assault to his former misdeeds.

Xan. “I protest that I have never been near
the place in my life, much less stolen a farthing’s
worth of property belonging to it. But Ill tell you
what I’ll do, and it’s really a generous offer. You
may take my slave there and examine him by tor-
ture. If you can find out from him anything against
me, then you can do what you like.” 4

Azacus. “What torture will you allow?”

1It was not lawful to examine a slave by torture, to support an

accusation against his master. The false Hercules therefore appears
to make a very liberal offer.
182 ARISTOPHANES.

Xan, “Oh, any that you like. You may tie him
to the triangles, or flog him with a cat-o’-nine-tails, or .
pour vinegar into his nostrils, or press him ; in fact,
. do as you please.”

42, “Very good; and if I happen to injure the
fellow, of course I shall be liable to you for the
money.”

Xan. “Never mind about the money; take him
away, and set to work.”

4, « No, no; we'll have it here in your presence.
Now then, my man, put down the baggage, and see
that you tell no lies.”

Bac. “I warn you not to touch me. I’m a god.
After that, if you get into trouble, blame yourself.”

E, “What do you say?”

Bac. “1 say that Iam an immortal god, Bacchus,
son of Zeus. The slave is that fellow there.”

4@. “Do you hear this” (to Xanthias)?

Xan. “Yes; all the more reason for beating him,
Isay. If he is an immortal god, he won't be able to
feel.”

Bac. “Why shouldn’t you be beaten, too, for you're
an immortal god, you say?”

Xan. “That's only fair. Whichever of us shows
any sign of being hurt, you will conclude that he is
not the god.”

45, (to Xanthias). “You really are a very fair-
minded fellow. Strip, both of you.”

Xan. “How will you manage to test us fairly pm
_ THE FROGS. 183

42, “Oh! easily enough; blow and blow about.”

The first blow was dealt to Xanthias, and received
without a sign.

“T have struck you,” said AZacus. — “ No; did you,
really?” replied the man.
_ The next came to Bacchus. — “When are you
going to begin?” said the god, after the stroke had
been administered. So it went on. The lashes
extorted, indeed, an exclamation or other sign of
pain, but the sufferers always contrived to account
for them. If Bacchus, for instance, was seen to
have tears in his eyes after a sharp stroke, “It.was
the smell of “onions,” he said. After another, he
cried, “Apollo!” but the next moment went on
as if he were repeating a favourite passage : —

“ Apollo, whether on the Delphian steep
Thou dwellest, or in Delos...”

At last Zacus gave itup. “I can’t find out,” he
cried, “ which of you is the real god. You must go
into the palace. My master and Persephone will
know, for they are gods themselves.”

“Quite right,” said re “but I wish you had
thought of it a little sooner.’

Pluto and his queen were found to epacees the
necessary power of distinguishing the ‘god from the
slave. As they also satisfied themselves that it was
not the real Hercules that had come down to Hades,
the proceedings about the carrying off of Cerberus
184 ARIST OPHANES.

were dropped, and Bacchus was hospitably enter-
tained, while Xanthias was handed over to the care
of AXacus.

“That’s a real gentleman, that master of yours,”
said the porter to his guest.

“T believe you,” replied the slave, “he does not
know how to do anything but drink and amuse
himself.”

4, “To think of his not hitting you when you
faced him out, pretending that you were the master,
when you were only the slave.”

Xan. “He would have been sorry for it if he
had.”

4&. “You're the right sort, I see. That’s just —
the sort of thing that I like to say.”

Xan. “You like it, do you?”

4@. “Yes; but the best of all is to curse my
master when I am alone.”

Aan. “And what do you think of muttering when
you have been well beaten and are going out of the
door?”

4, “That’s pleasant, too.”

Xan. ‘What of making mischief?”

4¢. “Better than anything.”

Xan. “ And listening at the door when they’re
talking secrets?”

42, “1’m simply mad on it.”

Xan. “ And gossiping out-of-doors about what you
hear?”
THE FROGS. 185

4. “T can’t contain myself for joy.”

Xan. “Give me your hand, my dear fellow, and
kiss me; you are my own brother. But tell me,
what is all that noise and shouting and abuse about
outside ?”

4%. “Oh! that’s only Aéschylus and Euripides.”

Aan. “What?”

4, “There has been a tremendous disturbance
and dispute among the dead people lately.”

Xan. “What about?”

4, “There is a rule down here that the best man
in any art—I mean arts of the nobler sort — should
have free entertainment in Government-house and a
seat next to Pluto’s own.”

Aan. “T understand.”

4, “But he has this only till some better man
than he arrives. When that happens, he must give
way. Well, Aischylus occupied the seat of honour
among tragedians.”

Xan. “ And who occupies it now?”

4, “When Euripides came down, he showed off
to the robbers, and pick-pockets, and murderers, and
burglars, —and we have a multitude of these gentry
in Hades,—and they, when they heard his equivo-
cations, and evasions, and turns, and twists, were
beside themselves with delight, and declared that he
was the best man that there was in his art. There-
upon he was so puffed up that he actually claimed
“Eschylus’s seat.”
186 ARISTOPHANES.

Xan. “And was pelted, of course, for his pains.”

4. “Not so; the mob cried out that there must
be a trial to decide which was the better man.”

Xan. “You mean the mob of scoundrels.”

4. “Yes; and an awful noise they made.”

Xan. “But AEschylus had his friends, too, I sup-
pose.” .

- 42, “O yes! but good people are scarce down
here, as they are up above.”

Xan. “Well, what does Pluto mean to do? a

BE. “He means to have a trial which will ‘show
who is the better man.” :

Xan. “How about Sophocles? Did he claim the
seat?”

E. “Not he: as soon as he came down he kissed
ZEschylus, and Aéschylus made room for him on
his seat. And now he means, if Aischylus should
get the better in the trial, to stay where he is; but
if ponies then to challenge him for uy first
place.”

Xan. “And what sort of a trial are they going
to have?”

@. “A rare one, you may be sure. You'll see
poetry measured by the pound weight, and rules, and
compasses, and wedges. pens says he is going
to take the plays to pieces.”

Xan. “ Aéschylus takes it hard, I reckon.”

LE. “Yes indeed, he’s like a bull going to charge.”

Xan. “But who is to be the judge?”
THE FROGS. 187 -

“4%, “Ah! that was the difficulty. Good judges
are scarce. You know that Aéschylus did not get on
altogether well, even with the Athenians. However,
they handed over the matter to your master. It was
in his line, they thought. But we had better go in,
or we shall catch it.”

The two rival poets now appeared.

“T am not going to give up my claim to. the
seat,” said Euripides, “so you may spare your
advice.” ;

Bac. “You hear what he says, Aéschylus?. Why
don’t you speak?”

Eur. “Oh! that’s his solemn way that we used
to have in his tragedies.”

Bac. “Come, come, Euripides, be moderate.”

Eur. “1 know the man, with all his savage crew
Of heroes, and his rude, unbridled tongue,
And all his overbearing pomp of words.”
Aeschylus. “Son of the garden-goddess,! sayest thou thus?
Gleaner of gossip, with thy beggar train
And rags ill-patched together! Think not, knave,
To escape unpunished.” .
Bac. “Wold, Aischylus, nor vex thy noble soul
With rage beyond all measure.”
Asch. “Tl not hold,
Till I have shown how poor a thing he is,
This maker of lame beggars.”

1 An allusion to the pursuits of Euripides’s mother, who was said to
have sold vegetables.
188 ARISTOPHANES.

Bac. “A black lamb this moment, my man;
there’s a hurricane coming. But I do beg you, my
honoured Aéschylus, to restrain yourself; and you,
you unlucky Euripides I advise you to get into shel-.
ter from the hail; a big stone might hit you on the
head, and spill one of your precious tragedies. To
' both of you I would say that two poets ought not to
abuse each other like a couple of bread-sellers.”

Eur. “Well, I’m ready; I am not going to shrink
from any test you like. Test my music, my lan-
guage, my characters, anything that you please.”

Bac. “ And what say you, Aéschylus ?”

4¢sch. “JV had rather not be put to the trial down
here. My poetry did not die with me; but this fel-
low’s did. There he has the advantage. However,
let it be as you will.”

Sac. “Bring some incense and a red-hot coal.
I should like to pray before they begin, that I may
have the wit and taste to decide this matter aright.
And each of you should say a prayer before you

commence.”

sch. “Grant, mighty mother, nurturer of my soul,
That I be worthy of your mysteries.”

Bac. “Now, Euripides, it is your turn.”

1 Black victims were offered to the storms, and to malign powers
generally. So we find in Virgil’s Zeid, III. 119-20: —

A bull to Neptune, and a bull
To thee, Apollo hight,

A lamb to Tempest, black of wool,
To western winds a white,
¢

THE FROGS. 189

Eur. “Itis well; I pray to quite another kind of
god.” ~
Bac. “JI understand; gods of your own, a new
coinage, as it were.”
Eur. “Just so.” .
Bac. “Pray away, then, to these particular gods
_of yours.”
Eur. “ o air, fine nurturer of my soul, and thou,
Quick-moving pivot of the tongue, and source
Of keen perception, and the delicate power
Of nostrils apprehensive, grant me grace
That I may rightly form the words I try.”

These preliminaries ended, the trial began. Eu-
ripides opened the attack. “Of my own poetry,” he
said, “I will speak afterwards. My first task will be
to show what a braggart and cheat this fellow was.
He found a silly audience used to the old-fashioned
poets, and befooled it. First he put on the stage a
figure muffled up and silent, that looked very tragical,
but did not utter a syllable." Meanwhile the chorus
sang an ode of immeasurable length; but from the
hero not a word.”

Bac. “ And it seemed to me very fine, much finer
than the chatter that I hear now.”

Eur. “That was because you were an ignoramus.”

Bac. “Perhaps you are right. But why did what’s-
his-name do it?”

1A reader of A%schylus will remember the opening scene of the
Prometheus. The demigod remains silent while the work of fastening
him to the rock goes on.
x

190 ARISTOPHANES.

Eur. “Out of sheer impudence. The spectator
was to sit waiting till Niobe, or whoever it was,
should say something. And so the play would get
on.” ae
Bac. “Oh, what a rascal! How he took me in!”
(To Aischylus) “What is the matter with you, twist-
ing about in that fashion?”

fur. “It’s- because I’m finding him out. Then,
after all this rubbish, when the play was about half-
way through, our silent friend would mouth out some
dozen words, each as big as an ox, and ugly as a bug-
bear, that none of the audience could understand.”

Bac. (to ESS who had groaned). “Be quiet
there.”

Eur. “A plain, intelligible word he never used.”

Bac. (to Aeschylus). “Don’t grind your teeth.”

Eur. “Jt was all about ‘Scamander streams’ and
‘embattled trenches,’ and ‘shields embossed with
vulture-eagles wrought in bronze,’ and such neck-
breaking words.”

. Bac. “And I through weary hours of darkness lay,’?

thinking what sort of a bird a ‘tawny cock-horse’
could possibly be.” ‘
Esch. “Tt was the device on a ship, to be sure,
you ignoramus. PCTS Euripides) “And pray, what
were your inventions?” ;
Eur. “Not cock-horses, nor goat-stags, you may
be sure, the sort of creatures you see on Persian

1 A parody of lines in Euripides.
THE FROGS. 191

hangings. No, I found my art swollen out with
these heavy, pompous words, and ay ‘fined her down
with verselets, and administered decoctions of, chat-
ter. Then. I did not confuse my characters. - My
heroes began by giving their pedigree.”

Zisch. “ A better pedigree than your own, y should
hope.”

Eur. “Then from the very beginning there was.
no. time wasted: wife, slave, master, maiden, old
woman, —all spoke in the same styles
_ Aisch..“ That was-a mortal sin.’

Eur. “Not at all; a true democratic des. T call it.
Then I introduced subtle rules of style, and fine fin-
ishing of verses, and. twists and turns, ace contriv-
ances and suspicions.”

isch. “Exactly what IT say.”

Eur. “And all this in. matters’ of even life,
things of daily use and wont, things which the
audience know all about, and in which they are com-
petent to judge my art. I did not try to.drive them
out of their sober senses with Cycnuses and Mem-
nons, and battle steeds and: clattering :s shields.

oe « “Then, it was. “that I began ;
“With a nicer, neater plan: ~ - °
Logic by my art I brought
Home to common men, and taught. ©

_ .... How to mind. their.own affairs,

Most. of all their household cares, -
Marking everything amiss 5. Nene
‘Where is that?’ and ‘What i is this?”
192 ARISTOPHANES.

Bac. “Yes, now when a master comes in at his door,

He calls to his slaves, and examines his store.

‘Now where is the pitcher? and some one has eaten
The head of the sprat, and has broken the bowl

Only parchased last year. As I live, he'll be beaten.
Half the olive is gone, of the garlic the whole;

So careful a watch of their substance they keep,

Who once were contented to slumber and sleep.’”

Asch. “It makes me angry, it vexes me to the
heart, to have to reply to such a fellow as this; still
I will do it, lest he should say that he had got the
better of me in the debate. Tell me now — What is
most admirable in a poet?”

Eur. “Righteousness and true counsel; the power
of making our fellow-citizens better.”

4iésch, “Then, if this is exactly what you have
not done, if, instead, you found them honest men
and left them villains, what do you deserve?”

Bac. “ Death, of course; don’t ask him.”

sch, “Remember what our citizens were when
they first came into your hands, fine tall fellows, who
shirked no public duty, not cheats and scoundrels as
now, but breathing spears and javelins and white
crested helmets and breasts of seven fold hide.”

Bac. “But, Aeschylus, how did you do it?”

“sch. “By dramas that were full of war.”

Bac. “Which, for instance?”

Aisch, “The Seven against Thebes; no man could
see that and not long to be a warrior.”

Bac. “That’s all very well; but you made the
Thebans dangerously good soldiers.”
THE FROGS. 193

“sch. “Well, you might have made yourselves
the same, but you chose other things. Then I exhib-
ited The Persians, and I made them ever eager to
conquer their foes. Yes, this is the function of the
poet. And see how in all ages the really noble poets
have discharged it. Orpheus taught us to worship
the gods, and to keep our hands from blood; Mu-
seeus instructed us in medicine, and told us of the
future ; Hesiod.sang of husbandry and the seasons;
and for what is Homer famous, but that he sang of
battle array, and noble deeds, and heroes arming for
the fight ? Then were trained such men as the hero
Lamachus, and many another like him. But to think
of the creatures that you have brought upon the
stage, the foolish women, for instance! whereas I
don’t know that I ever introduced a woman in love.”

Eur. “No, you did not know how.”

Lsch. “No, and I don’t want to know.”

Eur. “ But were they not true to life?”

“isch, “T dare say; but that was no reason why
you should put them on the stage. The poet should
hide what is bad, not bring it forward. What the
teacher is to the child, that is the poet to the youth.”

£ur. “But what virtue was there in your huge-
sounding phrases? Should you not use the common
speech of men?”

“Zisch. “Wretch, don’t you know that noble ideas
must be clothed in noble words? Demigods surely
should use a loftier speech than ours, and wear a

1
194 ARISTOPHANES.

more splendid vesture. All this I set forth, and you
‘departed from it most villainously.”

Eur. “But how?”

LEscth, “You clothed your kings in rags, to move
the pity of men.’

Eur, “What harm did this do?”

isch. “It taught the rich men to shirk their duties.
They dress in rags, and whine about their poverty.
Then you taught men sophistry and lying. You
emptied the gymnasia. You made the young effemi-
nate and base. You taught the seamen to answer
their officers, whereas in my time they knew no more
than to call for their porridge, and to cry, ‘ Pull
away !?”

So much, then, was said about matter and morals.
From this the competition passed on to style. “ Re-
peat one of your prologues,” said Euripides.

feschylus began : —

“Be thou, I pray, my saviour and ally,
Who now have come to this my native land,
Come, and returned.”

Eur. “See, the wise Aéschylus has said the same
thing twice. ‘Come’ and ‘returned’ mean the
same.”

Bac. “Yes, yes; just as if a woman were to say to
her neighbour, ‘ Use the kneading trough, and, if you
choose, the trough for kneading.’ ”

4ésch, “They are not the same; the thing is
quite rightly expressed,”
THE FROGS. 195

Bac. “How? Explain what you mean.”

<#sch. “Don’t you see? A man that has been
‘exiled not only comes to his own country, but re-
turns, for he has been there before.”

Bac. “Very good! What do you say to that, Eu-
ripides ?”’

Zur. “T say that Orestes did not return to his
country; for he came secretly against the wish of
the rulers.”

Bac. “And that is good also; but I don’t know
in the least what he means.”

Eur. “Now give us another,”

4Eschylus went on: —

“From his sepulchral mound I call my sire
To hear and hearken.”

“ Listen to him,” cried Euripides, “‘to hear and
hearken’; there’s a repetition for you!”

Bac. “Repetition! Of course there is. Is he not
speaking to the dead, to whom we call three times,
and even then they do not hear us?” 1

“Esch. “ And now let me see what I can make of
his prologues. I'll spoil them all with a single flask
~ of oil.”

Eur. “What! a flask of oil?”

isch, “Yes; one little flask. For you, Euripides,
compose them in such a way that one can always fit

1 The dead were called three times, a custom which has survived to
modern times,
196 ~ ARISTOPHANES.
in ‘a little fleece,’ or ‘a little flask,’ or: ‘a little

29)

wallet.

£ur. “igyptus, so the common story runs, —
“Father of fifty sons, the salt sea crossed,
And reaching Argos —”
sch. “lost a flask of oil.”

Bac. “ Try another one.”

Eur. “Great Bacchus, who with wand and skin of fawn
Equipped, while all around the torches blaze,
Leads the loud revel —”

sch. : “lost a flask of oil.”

Bac. “Dear me! the flask has caught us again.”
Eur. “T don’t care. Now listen: here is a pro-
logue, to which he won’t be able to fit in his flask : —
“*No man is found in all things fortunate.
This, being noble, lacks the means of life;

That, born ignobly—’”
Sth. “lost a flask of oil.”

Bac. “ Try another, and do keep clear of the flask.”
Eur. “Cadmus, in olden time, Agenor’s son,

Sailing from Sidon —”
Esch. “lost a flask of oil.”

Bac. “My good man, buy his flask, or it will
assuredly ruin your prologues.”
Eur. “Tbuy it! Certainly not. Listen again : —
“¢The son of Tantalus, to Pisa bound,

With fleet-foot horses — ’”
Asch. “Jost a flask of oil.”
THE FROGS. ‘197

Bac. “No, no; you can’t get rid of the flask. It
sticks to your verses just like a sty on a man’s eye-
lid! We will go to something else.”

isch. “1 am for the balance and elite Let
that decide between us.”

Bac. “Well, if you will have it so, though it seems
odd to deal with the work of a couple of poets as
a cheesemonger with his cheeses. Boy, bring out
a pair of scales. Now, then, stand each of you by
one of the scales, take a verse, but don’t drop it till
I say ‘cuckoo.’ ”

Jiscth.and Eur. “We are ready.”

Bac. “Now, then!”

Fur. Would that the good ship Argon e’er had sped —”
sch. “Stream of Spercheius, and ye pasturing herds !”

Bac. “Now, then, ‘cuckoo’! See, Aéschylus’s
scale is much lower.”

Eur. “What is the reason of that?”

Bac. “Why, he did what the wool-sellers do with
their wool: he damped his verse with a whole river,
while yours was a very airy affair.”

Eur. “Let us have another trial.”

Bac. “Very good. Are you ready? :

Asch, and Eur. “Yes.”

Bac. “Go on, then.”

1 Aristophanes may be supposed to be ridiculing the monotonous
cadences and unvarying pauses of Euripides’s verse, as well as the
commonplace character of his subjects.
198 ARISTOPHANES.

Fur. “One only temple has Persuasion — Speech.”
sch. “ Alone among the gods Death loves not gifts.”

Bac. “There it is; down again.”

Eur. “J am sure that what I said about Persua-
sion was very fine.”

Bac. “ But Persuasion is a light thing, while Death
is the heaviest of all evils. Well, you shall have
one more trial, and this must be the last. Think,
Euripides, of something solid to weigh him down.”

Eur. “T have it: —

“¢His right hand grasped an iron-weighted spear.’”
sch. “Chariot on chariot piled, and corpse on corpse.”

Bac. “There, he has done you again!”

Eur. “How?” ,

Bac. “Why, by bringing in a couple of chariots
and two corpses, more than a hundred Egyptians
could lift.”

isch. “Come, no more single lines. Let him
put himself and his wife and his children and all
his books and his ghost! to boot into the scale, and
I will weigh them all down with a couple of verses.”

1A “ghost” in artistic and literary slang is an unacknowledged
assistant who does part or even the whole of an artist’s or writer’s
work. He visits the study or the studio unseen, and works at the
painting, the statue, or the book of which some one else is to get the
credit. Cephisophon, who is named in the text, was accustomed to
take the chief part in the plays of Euripides, and it was commonly
said in Athens that he assisted the poet in the composition of them.
THE FROGS. 199

- Bac. “Well, I don’t think I can decide. One I
think very wise, and the other I like; and I should
not wish to be on bad terms with either.”

Pluto. “And are you not going to do what you
came for?”

Bac. “Well, if I do decide, what then ?”’

Plu. “You will take the one you choose and go.
So you won’t have come for nothing.” |

Bac. “Bless you for a good fellow. Then I’ll
try. I came down for a poet.”

Eur. “With what object?”

Bac. “ This: I want to have a prosperous Athens
exhibiting tragedies as they should be exhibited;
and so I mean to take back with me the man who
can give the country a good piece of advice. What
do you think about Alcibiades? Athens is having
a hard time of it with him.” .

Eur. “ And what does she feel about him?”

Bac. “She loves and she detests, yet longs to have.”
Eur. “J hate the man that still is slow to help
His country, quick to harm her, and contrives
Much profit for himself and none for her.”
sch.“ Rear not a lion’s cub within your walls;
But having reared him, let him work his will.”
Bac. “Tam puzzled still. Try again. How would
you save your country ?”

Eur. “The counsellors you trust in, trust no more;
The men you use not, use; so save your land.”
200 ARISTOPHANES.,

Bac. “Now, Aéschylus, what have you got to
say?”

Ztsch. “Tell me first, to whom does Athens
go? To honest men?”

Bac. “No; she hates them like poison.”

isch, “Then she likes the rogues?”

Bac. “Not she; but she is forced.to employ them.”

sch. “Wow save a city so perverse, that likes
Neither the noble’s cloak nor beggar’s mat?”

Bac. “Do think of something good, —that is, if
you want to go back.”

sch. “When they shall count their enemy’s land their
own,
Their own the enemy’s, and in their ships
See their sole safety, and from hardship draw
Means of deliverance . . .”

Plu. “Now you must decide.”

Eur. “Remember now the gods by whom you swore
To take me home, and choose the man you love.”

Bac. “My tongue has sworn— yet Aschylus I
choose.”

Eur. “Villain, what have you done?”

Bac. “Done? Chosen /Eschylus, to be sure.
Why not?”

Eur. “And you are going to leave me here down
among the dead ?”’

Bac. “It may be; death is life, and life is death.”
THE FROGS. 201

Plu. “Now, Zéschylus, in peace depart ;
And with thy nobler poet’s art
Enrich thy country as before,
And teach the fools —for many more
There are than were in days of yore.”
4esth. “So be it; and this seat of mine
To Sophocles, I pray, assign,
Till I return, if this should be;
He holds the second place to me.
And, mark me, keep that villain there
From sitting in my sacred chair.”
VIII.
THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN.

This is one of the poet’s later plays, having been produced in
392 B.C. The satire is, for the most part, social rather than political.
There is, indeed, a sarcasm on the passion for change and for novel
experiments in government, when the proposal for placing power in the
hands of the women is approved as being the only scheme which had
not yet been tried in-Athens. But the general object of the satire is
woman, while there is doubtless a special reference to the fashion for
imitating Spartan manners. The Spartan women, it must be remem-
bered, lived in a sort of comradeship, so to speak, with the men, which
was wholly unlike Athenian ways.

ONcE upon a time it happened in Athens that
every form of government having been tried to no
good purpose, and things getting worse and worse -
instead of better, the women thought it would be
well to take affairs into their own hands. How they
managed this will be told; but first it should be said
that their leader in this revolution was a certain
’ Praxagora.

On the appointed day, while it was ‘still dark,
Praxagora made her way to the place in the suburbs
where she had arranged to meet her fellow-conspira-
tors, and began by hanging up the lamp with which
she had lighted her way from home, and paying it
her respects. She said: —

202
THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. 203

“Eye of the potter-moulded lamp, with whom
Are shared the kindred honours of the sun,
Let thus the splendour of thy faithful flame
The sign concerted show. Faithful thou art,
Knowing, yet not betraying; to thine eye
Our toilet’s secrets are revealed; thy help
Is given, yet given in silence, when we take
Toll from the treasuries of food and wine;
Share, then, O lamp, the counsels of to-day.

“But how is this?” she went on, looking round
about, “I don’t see one of the friends whom I ex-
pected, although it is almost dawn, and the Assembly
will soon be meeting. We must fill up the places
first. Have they not been able to get the beards,
or have they found it too hard to steal the men’s
clothes? Butstay—Iseealamp approaching. I will
just step out of the way in case it should be a man.”

And now a number of women appeared. One
declared that the cock did but crow the second time
as she left her house; another said that her husband
had been ill all night from having eaten too many
pilchards, and that he had only just fallen asleep; a
third had stood in the sun all the day before to give
- herself a manly brown; a fourth showed a formida-
ble club which she had secured. A thrifty dame,
who thought it would be well to save time by spin-
ning while the place of Assembly was filling, incurred
a severe rebuke, though she pleaded that she could
listen’ just as well while she was at work, and that
her poor children had nothing to put on. To spin
204 ARISTOPHANES.

would be fatally certain to betray them; whereas, if
they would only sit in front, keep well muffled up,
and show their beards, no one but would think that
‘they were men. “A number of old-women,” said
Praxagora, “have passed themselves off as men in
the Assembly before now.” The conspirators now
proceeded to have a rehearsal of what they would
have to do in the Assembly. For a time there was
a doubt whether any one-would be able to make a
speech; but they comforted themselves by remem-
bering that speech was the special gift of woman.
One of the meeting began by proposing that vintners
who kept a tank of water on their premises for weak-
ening their wines should be severely punished. She
made, however, the sad blunder of swearing by the
two goddesses, an oath which women only were ac-
customed to use; and, when allowed to address the
audience again, actually styled them “Ladies.” Prax-
agora, hopeless of getting anything done by helpers
so inefficient, resolved to carry the affair through by
herself, and, having assumed the chaplet, addressed
the meeting :—

“Gentlemen,” she said, “the weal of this city is
dear to meas it is to all of you, and it grieves me
to see how ill. its affairs prosper. Why do they
prosper ill? Because you have no leaders. If a
man behaves honestly for one day, he will be a
scoundrel for ten. Make a change, some will say.
Well, your new man will only do more mischief.”

THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. 205

“By Aphrodite! you speak well,” cried one of the
audience.

“By Aphrodite! indeed!” cried Praxagora, turn-
ing on the speaker.

“What a thing to say! Supposing that you had
said it in the Assembly itself!”

“Oh! but there I should have been more careful.”

“Well, be careful now. Then you are always
blowing hot and cold. The allies of one day are
the enemies of the next. Then-you are not agreed.
‘Man a fleet,’ says the poor man, who is looking out
for pay. ‘No, no,’ say the rich men, who don’t want
the taxes increased.”

“That’s a clever man,” said the woman who had
spoken before. .

“ Ah,” cried Praxagora, ‘‘ now that is the right sort
of compliment. Well, gentlemen, the fault is in
yourselves. The public wealth goes into private
pockets. No man cares for the state; every man
looks out for himself; and the country goes to ruin.
What, then, is the remedy? Why, put the govern-
ment into the hands of the women. They manage
your houses; why not let them manage the state?
Do you want to know why they are likely to do it
well? Tl tell you. Because they keep to old ways,
and do as their mothers used to do. They wash
wool in hot water, for instance, after the old fashion.
You won’t see them trying new-fangled ways of

1 Another woman’s oath,
206 ARISTOPHANES.

doing things. And-an excellent thing it would be
for Athens if it did the same. They bake bread
sitting, as their mothers did; they bear loads on
their heads, as their mothers did; they make cheese-
‘cakes, as their mothers did; they beat their husbands,
as their mothers did; they keep titbits for them-
selves, as their mothers did; they like good liquor,
as their mothers did. I say, then, hand over the
state to them; ask no idle questions as to what line
of policy they will follow; think only of this: they
are the mothers of our soldiers and they won’t see
them killed or starved; they are admirable providers ;
they are themselves so good at deceiving that no one
will ever be able to deceive them. I need say no
more: take my advice, and you will live happily ever
after.” \

“But, my dear creature,” cried one of the women
who had been listening, “how did you learn to
speak so well?”

“Oh!” replied Praxagora, “once when we had to
leave the country! I lodged with my good man close
by the place of Assembly, and I learnt the trick of
speaking by listening to the politicians.”

Woman. “Very good! and you shall be our first
prime minister. But how shall we manage to elect
you? Tell us that.”

Praxagora. “Tt won't be an easy matter, but still
it can be done. Tuck up your tunics; tie on your

1 During the annual invasion by the Spartan army.
THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. 207

sandals, just as you see the men do when they are
going out. When this is done, fasten on your beards ;
put your husbands’ cloaks, which I hope you have
stolen, over all; take your staves, and march to the
place of Assembly. You can sing, as you go, some
old-fashioned ditty, and people will take you for
voters from the country. And make haste. Mind,
we must be there before dawn. Now let us be off,
and sing a stave as we go.”

The women accordingly marched away singing : —

“Let us hasten away ;
There’s no time for delay,
For the Archon has sworn
That who wishes to-day
To be sure of his pay
Must be there before morn
With our vouchers! in hand,
An unanimous band.

We will lift up our voice,
Making excellent choice

Of the women — nay, nay,
Of the men, I should say;

1 The meaning of the song seems to be that the seats in the place
of Assembly would be soon filled up, as it was only the first comers
who received the ticket or voucher, which, when business was finished,
was exchanged for the three odo/i, or half-drachma. The greedy fel-
lows who thought of nothing but their pay would soon come trooping
in; therefore the women must be beforehand with them to fill up their
seats. From this it was a natural digression to regret the growth of
the mercenary spirit, and to look back to the time when citizens were
more disinterested and discharged their public duties without looking
for reward,
208 ARISTOPHANES.

We are all men to-day.

We must vote for, and mind

That the gain-hunting crowd

From the town be allowed

Not a sitting to find.

Ah! but once on a time,

In our fair golden prime,

Men had thought it a crime

To serve country for pelf;

But each brought for himself
Just a bottle of wine and a morsel to eat,
Bread with onions and olives may be for a treat;
But these fellows are patriots only for pay,
Like scavengers working for so much a day.”

Meanwhile there was much perplexity and con-
fusion in the houses which the women had left. —
“Where in the world is my wife?” said one poor
man, who was Praxagora’s husband. “I can’t find
my shoes or my cloak; so I have had to put on her
mantle, and make shift to get my feet as far as they
would go into her Persian slippers. Fool that I was
to marry a wife at my age! However, I must be
going, if I am to get to the Assembly in time.”

Just as he was outside the door, a friend met him.
“Can this be Blepyrus?” he cried. “Why have you
got that scarlet thing on?”

Blepyrus. “Tis my wife’s. I had to put it' on.”

friend. “ But where is your own cloak?”

Blep. “That I can’t say. I have been looking for
it everywhere.”

fr. “ But your wife — why did you not ask her?”
THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. “209

Blep. “She’s not at home. "She’s gone some-
where on the sly.” : Brean Stet

Fr. “Why, my dear sir, that is exactly what has
happened to me. My wife has taken off my cloak ;
yes, and that is not the worst, but ay shoes, too.”

Blep. “My shoes are gone, too.”

Fr. “Perhaps a friend has invited her to break-
fast.”

Llep. “Very likely; she is not a bad sort, after all.”
' Fr. “Well, I must be off to the Assembly ; : that i is,
if I can find my cloak, for I haven’t got another.”

Very soon afterwards another friend came in,
‘Chremes by name. He had come, he- said, from
the Assembly. ‘“ What,” asked Blepyrus, ia it dis-
missed already ?”

Chremes.’ “Yes, and almost before it was light? ae

Blep. “You got your pay, I suppose?”

Chr. “TI wish that I had; as it was, I came- ‘too
late.”

Blep. “ How was that?”

Chr. ‘A whole crowd of people, more than I ever
saw together, came into the Pnyx; we thought, to
look at them, they were a set of indoor artisans,
they had such pale faces. However, they filled the
place, and I could not get my money, and a oo
many more were in the same plight. .

Blep. “Then I could not get it if I'went now?” ©

Chr. “No, indeed; nor would you have got it,
even if you a pone at second cock-crowing.”

14
210 ARISTOPHANES.

Blep. “Well, what, pray, was the business that
brought all this crowd together?”

Chr. “The public safety. That was the question
which the magistrates had prepared. One said one
thing, and one another. The gentleman who seemed
to have nothing over his tunic, though he declared
himself that he had a cloak, proposed that the cloth-
iers should be compelled to furnish cloaks to all per-
sons in need. We should escape cold and pleurisy
in that way. Any one who should refuse, and shut
his door in the winter against an applicant, was to be
fined three blankets.”

Blep. “An excellent proposition; and if he had
added that the corn-chandlers were to supply every
poor man with three pecks of barley, under pain of
death, he would not have found any one to vote
against it.”

Chr. “After that a good-looking young fellow,
rather pale in the face, stood up and proposed that
the management of affairs should be handed over to
the women. At this all the artisans cried out, ‘Hear!
hear!’ while the country-folk shouted ‘Vo/ no!’”

Blep. “ And right they were, by Zeus!”

Chr. “Yes; but they were beaten. The young
fellow said all kinds of good things about the women.
They were choke-full of good sense; they made
money; they could keep a secret; they could lend
each other clothes, gold, silver, plate, and not cheat
each other — no, not though there were no witnesses :
whereas we were always defrauding each other.”
THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. 211

Blep. “Yes, indeed, witnesses or no witnesses.”

Chr. “They didn’t inform against each other, nor
prosecute, nor plot against the people: all this and
other things too he said about the women.”

Blep. “Well, what was the end of: it all?” -

_ Chr. “It was determined to hand over the man-
agement of affairs to them. You see, this is the only
thing that has never been tried in Athens.” |

Blep. “You mean that the law passed?” .

Chr. “Yes.” : es

Blep. “That the women are to discharge all our
duties?”

Chr. “Exactly so.” :

Blep. “That my wife and not I is to try causes?”

Chr. “Yes; and aout wife, not you, is to keep the
house.”

Blep. “This is all very alarming.” is

Chr. “Nay, nay; don’t vex one What says
the old proverb?

‘ Though weak and vain our counsels, yet the gods
Still overrule them to some happy end.’

But I must be going. Take care of yourself.”

The women who had been passing this revolution-
ary vote now came hurrying in, looking about them
as if they feared pursuit, and singing as they went : —

“Is a man on our track? Look in front and look back,
Keep a watch all around, and tramp’ hard on the ground;
*Twould be sad if a man should discover our plan.
‘212 “" " ARISTOPHANES.

Now ‘we're near to the spot which first witnessed our plot;
~ Let us go one and all to the shade of a wall,
And away from all eyes doff our manly disguise.”

They had scarcely finished when Praxagora ap-
peared, calmly walking up to her house. Her hus-
band naturally wanted to know where she had come
from.

Prax. “A dear friend who had been taken ill
sent for me in the night.”

LBlep. “ But why not tell me that you were going?”

Prax. “Ought not I to have gone, then?” »

Blep, “Gone— yes; but why did you ‘take ee
cloak?”

“Prax. “Tt was so cold, and I am not very strong,
and I left you snugly wrapped in your blankets.”

Blep. “ But why my sandals and staff ?”

Prax, “T was afraid, so I did my best to ‘make my-
self look’ like you. . T° stamped with my feet, and
knocked the stones with the staff.”

Blep,. “Well, you’ve made me lose a peck of wheat
which I should have brought home from the Assem-
bly.”

Prax. “Never you mind about that; j ‘it was a very
fine boy.”

Blep. “Whose boy? the Assembly’ ge:

Prax. “No; my friend’s. But has there been an
Assembly ?.”

‘Blep. “Of course. - Don’t you remember that I
told you yesterday it was'to be?”
THE PARLIAMENT, OF WOMEN. 213;

“Pras: “So you did.”

Blep. “ a noon t oe OW swat: they have
done?”

Prax, “NotI.”

Blep. “They have handed over to you women the
government of affairs.” |: 0

Prax. “Spinning, do.you mean ? DP

Blep. “No —ruling.”

Prax, “Ruling? ‘Ruling what?”

Blep, “Ruling everything.”

Prax. “By Aphrodite, a very lucky thing for the
country !”

Blep. “Why a lucky thing? 2”

Prax...“ For many reasons; she won’t be the prey
of bad.men any more. . There will be no more per-
juries, no. more informers.”

» Blep. “Woman, what do you mean? Why, these
are the things I live by.”

Prax. “Silence, my good man, and let your, wife
speak. There'll be no stealing, no arguing, no
nakedness, no eae no slander, no distraint for
debt.”

bleep, “ That’ s all very fine if true.” i

Prax, “True! T’ll warrant every word is true.”

The women, who had assembled round their leader
while this conversation was going on, now encour-
aged her to develop her plan for the better govern-
ment of the city. They put their thoughts into
verse ;—
214 : ARISTOPHANES..

“Now befits thee to unfold
Skilful plan and counsel bold;
Now for friends and commonweal
Show how great and wise thy zeal.
Hove of better days impart,

pe Cheering weary mind and heart.

Time it is some skilful hand
Healed the sorrows of our land;
Only let thy wise intent
Some judicious scheme invent,
Such as ne’er before has been
Either thought of, heard, or seen;

. Old things please not here, I ween.”

Prax. “The first thing in my plan is that all
should share and share alike. I won’t have some
rich and some poor; one man with a broad domain,
and another with not ground enough for a grave;.
one man with many slaves, and another with not
even one poor page. No. All the citizens shall fare
alike. How shall I do it, do you ask? I shall make
the land common property, and the money, and all
that every man possesses. . These things we women
will wisely manage, apportioning to each what he
wants.”

Blep. “But what will you do with those who don’t
own land, but have a secret store of gold and
silver?”

Prax. “Wemust bring them into the common stock.”

Blep. “But suppose that the man swears that he
hasn’t got them?”
THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. 215

Prax, “Why should he? °’Tis only poverty that
makes men forswear themselves, and there will be no
poverty here. Every man will have whatever he
wants for the asking.”

Slep. “ But who is to cultivate the land?” .

Prax. “The slaves, of course. All that you will
have to do will be to go nicely dressed to dinner
when the dial shows the hour.”

Blep. “And how shall we get new acest 2”

Prax. “What there are now will serve for the
present, and then we women will spin you new
ones.”

Blep. “Suppose there is a judgment against a
man for a sum of money, how is he to pay it? Not
out of the common stock, I suppose?”

Prax. “But there will be no suits or judgments.”

Blep. “No suits! If any man owes money and
denies the debt, how then?”

Prax. “ How did the creditor get the money to
lend when everything is common?”

Blep. “Good! But tell me this: If a man is
fined for assault, how then? This will puzzle you, I
take it.”

Prax. “Not at all. He'll pay in pudding. Starve
him a bit, and he’ll learn not to be insolent.”

Blep. “Then no one will steal?”

Prax. “Why should he? He’ll be stealing his
own property.”

Slep, “Then there'll be no footpads?”
216 +... ARISTOPHANES.,.

Prax, “No; for all will have enough. And.if a
man should stop. you with, ‘Your. coat or your. life!’
you'll only have to give it to. him and. 60 to. the
public store and get another.” Sek Seh Ee os ee

Blep. “Will there:be any. gambling?” See ea
_ Prax, “What should they, gamble for???

_ Blep. . “And what is our fare tobe?”

Prax. “The same for all. The city veil. in fact
be one house.” __

.. Blep. “Where shall we dine} ties
-. Prax, “We shall make the courts and the colon,
nades into dining-rooms. NE sha’n’t want seny for
purposes of law any more.”

.. Blep, “And the speakers’ aioe — what will
you do with that?”

Prax. “We. shall stand our mixing-bowls and
water-pitchers . on it.. And the: singing-boys shall
stand on it and celebrate the deeds of. the valiant, SO
that if by chance there should be any- cowards
they may slink away ashamed. Does this please
you?”

Blep. “ Excellently well.”

Prax. “Now I betake me to the market-place,

~ Some shrill-voiced dame before me, who shall play
* The herald’s part, for there must I receive
The moneys flowing to the common ‘purse;
For that same public voice that bade me rule
Hath laid these duties on me, and commands
That I should order well the sumptuous feasts,
Which with this day begin. And so farewell.”
THE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN. 217

“Excellent, my dear,” said Blepyrus. “I will
come with you. How the people will stare at me,
and say to each other, ‘Look there! Do you know
who that is? That is the husband of the lady in
command,’ ”
IX.

PLUTUS.

There seem to have been two editions of the play entitled 7ze Plutus
(God of Riches). One was produced in 408 8.c.; the other in 388 B.c.
According to the Argument or Introduction commonly prefixed, we
have the second of these two editions. It is said to have been the last
play which the poet exhibited in his own name. His career as a dram-
atist had then lasted thirty-nine years; his first comedy, The Ban-
queters, had been produced, though not in his own name, in 427 B.C.
The character of 7%e Plutus suits this position in the catalogue of the
poet’s works. It is mainly a comedy of morals, and in spirit resembles
the dramas which are classed as the New Comedy, though the form is
the same as that to which we are accustomed in the earlier plays; and
there is something of the same savage satire on individuals.

ONcE upon a time two travellers, a master, Chre-
mylus by name, and his slave Cario, might have been
seen painfully making their way from Delphi to
Athens. The strange thing about them was that
they were following the guidance of a blind man, a
proceeding on which the master insisted, much to
the annoyance of his slave. The latter bewailed the
hard fate which compelled a sensible man to follow
the caprices of a foolish one, blamed the god of the
oracle, who, though he had the reputation of being
both a physician and a prophet, had sent an inquirer
away in a condition of madness. “For what,” said
the slave to himself, “could be a greater proof of

21g
PLUTUS. 219

madness than for a man who can see to follow the
leading of one who is blind; and a fellow, too, who
won’t answer a syllable to any question?” At last
the slave made up his mind to speak to his master.
“Tell me,” he said, “ who this man is that you seem
determined to follow. You know that I have always
done my'best for you.” — “ That is so,” said Chremy-
lus, “ that is so; I have always found you the most
faithful of my slaves—and the greatest thief. How-
ever, I’ll have no secrets from you. You know that
I am a pious and honest man, and that I have always
been unlucky and poor.” .

Cario. “I know it perfectly well.”

Chremylus. “ And that robbers of temples, in-
formers, politicians, and scoundrels of all sorts are
rich. Well, I went to consult Apollo about it. My
days, I knew, were pretty nearly over; but I wanted
to know about my only son. Was he to give up my
virtuous ways and turn into a villain, as it was only
the villains who prospered? The answer, was this:
‘ Follow the first person whom you see after leaving
my temple; don’t lose sight of him, but make him
go home with you.”

Car. “ And who was the first person you saw?”

Chrem. “That man there.”

Car. “Well, master, that is very stupid of you.
Of course Apollo meant that you were to bring up
the boy as a villain. Everybody is a villain; there-
fore the first person you meet will be a villain; there-
220° ARISTOPHANES.

fore you must follow a villain. Even a. blind man,
could see so much.” :

Chrem. Apollo meant nothing of, the kind, but
something much more serious. If we can only find
out who the man is, and what he wants, then we.
should know what the god meant.” ee dene

For a time the stranger refused to speak; at last,
under compulsion, and after a promise that he should
be released when he had answered, he revealed his
name and condition. “Iam the god of wealth,” he.
said.

Chrem. “You the god of wealth! and in this mis-
erable plight!”

Plutus. “That is easily accounted for. I am just
come from the house of a miserly fellow who never
" went to the bath from the day of. his birth, or let me
go either.”

Chrem. “ And how came you to be blind?”

Plu. “When I was a lad I said that I intended
to visit only the wise and good. Thereupon Zeus
made me blind, that I might not know them. He is
jealous of the wise and good.”

Chrem. “ And yet it is only they who honour him.”

Plu. “It is so.”

Chrem. “Tell me, now; if you could recover your
sight, would you keep to your intention, and avoid
the bad?”

Plu. “1 certainly would.”

Chrem, “ And keep company with the good?”
PLUTUS. 221

Plu. “Certainly; it is many a long day since I
saw one of that sort.”

Chrem. “Just as it has been with me, and yet I
can see.” RM

Plu. “Now, then, you'll let me go.”

Chrem. “Let you go indeed! No; we'll stick to
you closer than ever.” oe

Plu. “Ah! that is just what I feared.”

Chrem. “My dear friend, don’t leave me; you
won't find a more honest man than I am to live with.”

Plu. “So they all say; but as sure as ever I come
to them, they turn into the worst-rogues of all.”

Chrem. “Ah! but you may trust me. And now
listen to me, and I’ll tell you what you will get by
coming home with me; I hope, please the gods, to
recover you of your blindness.”

Plu. “No, no; I don’t want to see.”

Chrem. “Why not?” —

Plu. “Because I am afraid what Zeus might ‘do
to me.” a
Chrem. “Don’t be afraid of Zeus. You are a
much greater power than he. Why do men pray
to Zeus?. For the sake of money, to be sure. Don’t
they pray for this in so many words? And could
you not stop all this if you chose?” Se?

Plu. “How could I stop it?”

Chrem. “Because no man could offer an 6x,~no,
not even a barley-cake, without your good-will. . You
find the money for it. So it is clear that you have
222 ARISTOPHANES.

only to say the word, and the power of Zeus topples
down.”

Plu. “Do you really mean that I have all this
_ to do with sacrifices?”

Chrem. “Yes, indeed; and everything on earth
that has splendour or beduty about it comes from
you; and you are the cause of every art and every
craft that has ever been discovered. You make the
cobbler squat, and the brazier hammer, and the car-
penter ply his adze, and the goldsmith melt the gold
—you give him the gold. Aye, and you make one
man filch people’s clothes from the bath, and another
break into houses.”

Plu, “Dear me! I knew nothing of all this.”

Chrem. “You give all his glory to the Great
King,! call together the Public Assembly, man the
ships of war, pay the soldiers, make us bear Mr.
Vulgar’s manners and listen to Mr. Tees
stories.”

Plu. “Can I really do all this?”

Chrem. “Yes, indeed; and much more than this.
You are the one thing of which men can never have
enough. Of everything else they get a surfeit, —
of love, for instance.”

Car. “ And of bread.”

Chrem. ‘Of poetry.”

Car. “ And of sweetmeats.”

1 The king of Persia, — the only prince of whom the Greeks used
the term “ basileus.”
PLUTUS. 223

Chrem. “ Of honour.”

Car. “ And cheesecakes.”

Chrem. “Of courage.”

Car. “ And figs.”

Chrem. “Of glory.”

Car. “ And hasty-pudding.”

Chrem. “ Of office.”

Car. “ And pease-pudding.”

Chrem. “But of you they never can have enough.
If a man has thirteen talents, does he not straight-
way want sixteen? And if he gets sixteen, does he
not want forty, if life is to be worth living?”

Plu. “You seem to be avery sensible man. But
there is one thing I am afraid of. Tell me: if I get
this power, shall I be able to keep it?” -

Chrem. “They are quite right in saying that
wealth is the most timid of creatures.”

Plu. “Not timid at all. This was a slander that
a burglar invented, when he got into my house and
found everything locked up. Because I am cautious
he said I was timid.”

Chrem. “Well, never mind. Trust me, and I will
make you keen-sighted as a lynx.”

Plu. “But how will you contrive it? You're only
aman.”

Chrem. “T have good hopes that Apollo will help
me.”
Plu. “ Does he know what you are doing?”
Chrem. “Yes; he does. I'll help you, if I die
224 ARIS TOPHANES.

for it, and so will all my friends and ‘neighbours.
Cario, go and call them; it is only right that they
should have a share of my good luck. And now,
Plutus, come into my house.”

Plu. “T tell you that I don’t at all like going into
another man’s house. I never got any good ftom
doing it. If my host has been of the frugal sort,
he has buried me in the ground; aye, and if a good
fellow came to borrow a silver coin, has sworn that
he has.never set eyes upon me. If he has been one
of the wild young fellows, then I am given over to
bad company and dice, and turned naked out of
doors. at a moment’s notice.” :

Chrem. “*That is because you never ne to
light upon a moderate man. I like to save; no man
more. And I like to spend, at the proper time.
But come in; I should like you to see my wife and
my son. He is my only son, you must understand;
and-I love him better than anything else in the
world, — of course after. you.”

Meanwhile Cario had been inviting the neighbours
‘to come to his master’s house. They were not slow
to answer the call, but left their work in the fields,
and hurried up, followed by one Blepsidemus, who
was the principal person among them. Blepside-
mus was suspicious. His friend, he had heard, had
- become suddenly rich. This was in itself an unusual
circumstance, and, put together with the mysterious
answers which he got to. his questions, inclined him
PLUTUS, 225

to believe that his friend had committed some crime.
When he heard that the god of riches was actu-
ally an inmate in his neighbour’s house, his astonish-
ment was great, nor was it diminished at being told
that Chremylus’s intention was to make his friends
sharers in his good luck. He agreed with the notion
that the god should, if possible, be cured of his blind-
ness, but did not see how it could be done. This,
indeed, puzzled both of the friends, till Chremylus
suggested that the best plan would be to make him
pass a night in the temple of Aésculapius. Scarcely
had they resolved on this course when a strange
visitor appeared, Poverty, a lean and spectral figure,
from whom the two men fled in terror. However,
they plucked up courage, and came back, wondering
what it could be. “A Fury escaped from a tragedy,
perhaps,” said one of them. “It has a mad, tragi-
cal look.”
“No,” replied the other, “it hasn’t got a torch.”
“Who do you think I am?” said the figure.
Chrem. “The landlady of an inn, or an oyster-
girl; you made such an uproar when no one had
hurt you.” ;
“T tell you,” cried the Unknown, “that you are
both intending to do a most villainous thing. Know
that I am Poverty — your old inmate, Poverty.”
Blep. “Good heavens! I’m off.”
Chrem. ‘“ Coward, you are not going to run away?”
Blep. “Yes, but I am.”

,

15
226 ARISTOPHANES.

Chrem. “What! two men run away from one
woman?”

Blep. “Yes; but the one woman is Poverty, and a
more terrible creature does not exist.”

At last, however, Blepsidemus consented to stay,
and the matter was argued out.

Chremylus argued on behalf of his plan for restor- _
ing eyesight to Plutus. He said: “Every one allows
that good men ought to prosper, and that the bad
and impious should fare ill. It has been our object
‘to bring this about, and after much thinking we
have devised a really good plan for doing so. If for
the future Plutus should be able to see, and not wan-
der about blindly, as he has hitherto done, then he
will take up his abode with the good and shun the
bad. So it will come about that all men will become
good and pious. Is it possible to invent a better
scheme than this? As for man’s life, as it is at pres-
ent, it is nothing but sheer, raving madness. Bad
men enjoy the wealth which they collected by the
most villainous devices, and the good are next door
to starvation.”

Poverty. “Now, you foolish old creature, listen to
what I have got to say. Let Plutus divide his fa-
vours equally, and who would cultivate any art or
knowledge? who would be a brazier, a shipwright, a
tailor, a wheelwright, a shoemaker, a brickmaker, a
dyer, or a skinner? who would sow and reap when
he might sit at ease and enjoy himself?”
PLUTUS, 227

Chrem. “Our slaves would do all this for us.” "
Pov. “But where would you get your slaves?”
Chrem. “ Buy them, to be sure.”

Pov. “But who would take the trouble to sell
them if he had money already?”

Chrem. “The slave-dealer, I suppose.”

Pov. “Not a bit of it. Who would risk his life
for money, when he could get it without? No; you
will have to do all these things for yourselves. No
more lying on couches, for couches there won’t be;
no more fine robes, for who will care to weave? no
more perfumes, not even on your wedding day. And
what will be the good of your riches without these
things? But stick to me, and you will have the nec-
essaries of life in plenty. It is I who stand by and
drive men to work by my strong compulsion.”

Chrem. “Oh, I know the sort of life you will give
us, — bawling children, and cross old women, and
buzzing gnats, and biting fleas, all bidding us get up
and work; and rags instead of clothes, and rushes
for feather beds, and a mat for a carpet, and a stone
for a pillow.”

Pov. “This is the way in which beggars live.”

Chrem,. “Well, is not Poverty sister to Beggary ?”

Pov. “So you say; but then, you don’t know the
difference, I suppose, between Dionysius the tyrant,
and Thrasybulus the patriot.! A beggar may live

1 Thrasybulus restored a free constitution to Athens by upsetting the

tyranny of the Four Hundred, which had been established after the
capture of the city by the Spartans,
228 ARISTOPHANES.

as you say, but a poor man lives frugally and sticks to
his work.”

Chrem. “Yes; happy man! and dies without
leaving enough to bury him.”

Pov. “Yes; you may laugh, but I make better
men than wealth can make, — better in mind, better
in body, not gouty, big-bellied, thick-legged creatures,
but spare, and small-waisted, and terrible fellows to
fight.”

Chrem. “Spare enough, I dare say, for you starve
them pretty well.”

Pov. “And as for good manners, you find them
with me; it is wealth that is insolent.”

Chrem. “Oh, yes! excellently good manners — to
steal and break into houses!”

Pov, “Then look at the politicians. While they
are poor, they are honest; let them -get a taste of
the public money, and good by to their honesty.”

Chrem. “1 don’t say that you're wrong here,
Still this shall not help you.”

Pov. “And how about Zeus? Isn’t he poor?
At the Olympic games, where all Greece meets
every four years, what is the prize that he gives to
the conquerors? A wreath of wild olive. If he had
been rich, would it not have been of gold?”

Chrem. “He satisfies them with a trifle, and keeps
the riches to himself.”

All Poverty’s arguments having proved to be un-
availing, she was driven away, though not without
PLUTUS. 220

warning her adversaries that it would not be long
before they sent for her.

The next thing was to cure Plutus of his blind-
ness. The story of how this. was done was told
next morning by Cario to his mistress.

“The first thing that we did was to take him
down to the shore and bathe him in the sea. After
that we went up to the temple, offered on the altar
the usual sacrifices, and then laid Plutus down,
every one of us at the same time making his own
bed. He was not the only suppliant. Indeed, I
noticed another blind man, who, however, is a clev-
erer thief than most people with eyes, and there
were other persons suffering from all manner of
diseases. Then an attendant came round, put out
the light, and bade us go to sleep, telling us to be
silent in case we should hear any noise. As for me,
I could not get to sleep; there was an old woman .-
near me, and a little way off from her head was a
pitcher of porridge, for which I had quite an inspired
longing, so good did it smell. And when I opened
my eyes I saw the priest snatching the pastry and
figs from the holy table, and then going the round
of the altars to see if there was a cake left on any
of them. Whatever he found he consecrated into
a wallet that he had. When I found that this was
a devotion practised in the place, I crept up to the
porridge-pitcher. The old woman heard me coming,
and put out her hand to hold the porridge, and I
230 ARISTOPHANES.

hissed like a serpent, and bit it. Thereupon she
drew it back, and covered her head with ‘the bed-
clothes. As for me, I had a good meal from the
porridge, and lay down in my bed. After a while
Esculapius himself came round with his two daugh-
ters, Recovery and All-Healer,! followed by a boy
who carried a stone mortar, a pestle, and a small
chest. I was very much frightened and covered

myself up; still I could see what was done through . |

a peep-hole in my cloak—TI had a good choice of
peep-holes. The god began by making an ointment
to plaster on the eyes of that blind thief I spoke
of; he mixed together three heads of garlic, fig-tree
sap,? and mastic, and moistened it with vinegar.
Then he turned the fellow’s eyelids out—to hurt
him more, you understand. The thief roared like
a bull, and ran out of the temple. The god laughed
and said, ‘There, there; now you may learn not to
forswear yourself.’ After this he came and sat
down by Plutus. The first thing that he did was to
stroke his head; then he took a clean napkin, and
wiped his eyelids with it. Next, AllHealer covered
his head with a purple kerchief. Then the god
whistled, and two huge serpents came out of the
sanctuary. These put their heads under the ker-
chief, and, I imagine, licked the eyelids; and — in

1 Taso and Panacea are the Greek names.
2 This was an acrid fluid used by the Greeks instead of rennet to
curdle milk for cheese-making.


AFSCULAPIUS.
PLUTUS. 231

less time than you could drink a pint of wine —
Plutus stood up seeing as you or I. I clapped my
hands for joy, and woke my master; the god and
his serpents vanished into the sanctuary, and we all
wished Plutus joy of his recovery, and watched till
the day broke. And now he is coming with a great
crowd of people after him rejoicing and singing.”
The slave had scarcely finished his narrative when
Plutus appeared, and returned thanks in solemn fash-
ion for his recovery : —
“First the great Sun I reverence; then the plain,
The famous plain where holy Pallas dwells,
And Cecrops’ hospitable land, my home.
The past I do remember sore ashamed,
In what ill company I spent my days,
Unknowing; how all ignorant I fled
From worthier friends, unhappy that I was!
Choosing the bad I erred; I erred no less
The good refusing. But this self-same hour
I changed my ways in all things, so that man
May know me to have sinned against my will.”

And indeed the change was something marvellous.
Chremylus, who had not been popular in the days of
his poverty, now found himself the object of admiring
attention from friends without number. In his house
everything was changed. The bin, in old times gen-
erally empty, was full of the finest flour, the jar of
delicious wine, the coffers of gold and silver. The
well was brimming over with oil, and the oil-cruse
with perfume. The fish-platters, once of wood and
232 ARISTOPHANES.

half-rotten, were found to be silver, the dresser was *
ivory ; the very slaves played at odd. and even with
gold pieces.

Not less wonderful was the crowd of visitors that
came to pay their respects to the god. The first ar-
rival was a good man, who had been poor. He had
been left a comfortable fortune, he explained, by his
father, and had thought that the best use he could
make of it would be to help his friends. If he should
come to need, of course they would help him. Nat-
urally he had not been long in reaching the bottom
of his purse, and then he found that his friends could
not so much as see him. Thanks to this change in
the god, he was now well off, and he was coming to
dedicate to him the ragged cloak and worn-out shoes
which he had worn in the days of his poverty. The
next comer was as much disgusted at the new order
of things as his predecessor had been pleased. He
was an informer, and came in a condition of frantic
hunger; his business had failed him, and he threat-
ened the most fearful penalties against those who
had ruined him. All the satisfaction he got was to
be stripped of his fine clothes, have the good man’s
cloak wrapped round him, and the shoes fastened on
his-forehead. Next came an elderly lady, who had
‘lost the suitor who had paid her attentions on account
of her wealth, but now, being rich himself, had trans-
ferred them elsewhere. She too got nothing by her
visit- The succeeding visitor showed that the influ-
PLUTUS. 233

ence of the revolution had reached to heaven itself.
Hermes presented himself, complaining that since
Plutus had recovered his sight, no one had offered to
the gods so much as a grain of frankincense, a twig
of laurel, or a cake. “I,” said the god, “am a pecul-
iar sufferer. You know that I am a little friendly to
rogues, and these, in return, used to give me some
perquisites. That is all over now; I go hungry all
day long. Give me,” he went on, addressing the
slave Cario, “a loaf and a piece of the flesh.”
Car. “I can’t. The things are not to be taken -
out.” cf ee

Hermes. “Ah! my man, don’t you remember how
I used to help you when you filched anything of
your master’s?”

Car. “Yes, but only on. condition of having your
share.” ae

Her. “Which share you always ate yourself.”

Car. “And very right. Who got the stripes, if
I was found out?”

Fler. “Well, well, let’s have an amnesty now
that the battle is.over.1 For heaven’s sake, make
me one of your household here!”

1 Literally, “now that Phyle is taken.” The reference is to a
memorable event in Athenian history. The “Thirty Tyrants,” put
in power by the Spartans after the capture of Athens and their over-
throw by Thrasybulus; have been mentioned in the introduction to
this-story. The first step which Thrasybulus and his. followers took
was to seize the frontier fort of Phyle. The end of the struggle was
the proclamation of an amnesty.
234 ARISTOPHANES.

Car. “What! you going to leave the gods and
stay here!”

Fler. “Yes; you seem to be much better off.”

Car. “A deserter is a mean sort of creature.”

Fler. “ Listen :—

“My country is the land where best I fare.”

Car. “ But what good will you be to us?”

fer. “1 will be your turnkey.”

Car. “We want none of your turns.”

Fler. “Your merchant, then.”

Car. “We are rich; we want no huckstering.”

Fler. “Your master of craft?”

Car. “We want no craft; simple ways are the
fashion now.”

Fler. “Your guide?”

Car. “The god has his sight, and will want no
more guiding.”

ffer. “Your Chief of the Sports? for, of course,
he will do well to have musical competitions and
games.”

Car. “What a thing it is to have a number of
titles! At last he has hit upon some capacity in
which he may be useful to us. Well, go to the
spring and wash these haunches for me, that you
may learn to make yourself useful and handy.” 4

1 Hermes pleads the various capacities which he was supposed to
have. He was the Porter of the Hall of Heaven, the Patron of

Trades, the God of Council, the Guide, as conducting the Souls of the
Dead, etc., and the Patron of Sports.
PLUTUS. 235

A priest now came, with the same complaint that
Hermes had made, — he was starving. No one
wanted anything ; therefore, no one offered sacrifices.
He was glad to take service with the new deity.

A procession was now organized to conduct Plutus
to his temple. The elderly lady who had come back
in very gay attire was induced to carry the pots of
boiled pulse,! on the promise that her suitor should
return to her, and the god of wealth was solemnly
enthroned as the one and only deity thenceforward
to be worshipped in Athens.

1 Commonly carried by young girls, who wore gay-coloured robes,
at the dedication of an altar or temple,

Part IL.
STORIES FROM THE NEW COMEDY.

PHILEMON, DIPHILUS, MENANDER,
APOLLODORUS.
I.
THE BURIED TREASURE,
[rom PutLemon. Translated by PLAvTUS.]

CHARMIDES, a citizen of Athens, being compelled
‘to go abroad on business, intrusted the charge of his
affairs to his old friend Callicles. Among the mat-
ters which he put in his friend’s hands was an im-
portant secret, nothing less than the fact that he had
buried under the floor of one of the rooms in his
house a treasure of three thousand gold philips.?
This he had done to provide a dowry for his
daughter, in case she should be sought in marriage
during his absence. His son, Lesbionicus by name,
he could not trust, so extravagant was the young
man. And indeed what happened after his depart-
ure seemed to prove that he had been right. Lesbi-
onicus went from bad to worse, squandered everything
that he could lay his hands on, till at last nothing
was left him but the house and a small farm outside
the city. The house he promptly advertised for

1 This was a coin first minted by Philip II. of Macedon (the father
of Alexander the Great), and called after his name. It contained gold
to the value of fifteen shillings (as reckoned by our standard).

239
240 PHILEMON.

sale! Callicles, dismayed at the thought that it was
going to pass into other hands, and that the new pur-
chaser might discover, even if he were not legally
entitled to, the buried treasure, determined to buy
the property himself. But this proceeding did not
satisfy everybody. Some of his friends and acquaint-
ances suspected him of having taken advantage of
the young man’s folly, and made a good bargain for
himself. Accordingly, no sooner had he taken pos-
session of his new purchase than a friend, Megar-
onides by name, presented himself and told him what
people were saying.

Megaronides. “Yowre in bad repute, my friend.
People do not scruple to call you a vulture. ‘ Friend
or foe,’ they say, ‘it is all one to him, as long as he
makes his meal.’ This vexes me, you may believe,
very much.”

Callicles. “Well, I can’t prevent people talking ;
but whether they are right is another matter.”

Meg. “Tell me, was Charmides a friend of yours?”

Cal, “He was and is. If he had been anything
else, would he have handed his affairs over to me,
when he sailed for Syria, charging me with the care
of his grown-up daughter — his wife, as you know,
is dead — and that spendthrift of a son?”

Meg. “Ah! it was about the son that I was going

1 Plautus, or Philemon, whom he translates, does not tell us how the
son could sell his father’s property. Audiences, it is probable, did not
criticise details of this kind. ,
THE BURIED TREASURE, 241

to speak. Have you endeavoured to reform him?
Would you not have done better to try to make a
respectable man of him than to abet him in his bad
courses ?””

Cal. “ How have I abetted him? What have I
done?”

Meg. “ Behaved like a rascal, to speak plainly.”

Cal. “That's not my way.”

Meg. “Did you not buy this house from the
young man? Why don’t you answer? I mean this
very house in which you are living.”

Cal. “T did buy it. I paid the money to the
young man, two hundred pounds down.”

Meg. “You paid the money?”

Cal. “Certainly. I see nothing to be ashamed of
in that.”

Meg. “Well, then, I say that you betrayed your
trust. You gave the young fellow a sword to kill
himself with when you supplied him with the means
of crowning the edifice of his folly.”

Cal. “Oughtn’t I to have paid him the money?”

Meg. “You ought not to have had any buying
and selling with him. See how the thing stands.
The young man is put in your charge, and you get
possession of his house. On my word, you are a
fine trustee!”

Cal. “My friend, when you talk to me in this
fashion, I have no choice but to tell you a secret
that I was charged to keep strictly to myself. Can
I trust you?”

16
242 PHILEMON.

Meg. “Tmplicitly.”

Cal. “Can anybody overhear us?”

Meg. “No one.”

Cal. “Then listen. When Charmides was on the
point of leaving Athens, he showed me a treasure
which he had buried in a room in this house — you
are sure there is no one listening ?”

Meg. “There is no one near.”

Cal. “As much as three thousand philips. He
begged me not to let his son know anything about it.
If he comes back safe, I shall give it up to him; if
anything should happen to him, then I have the
means of finding a dowry for his daughter.”

Meg. “Good heavens! this is quite another story.
But go on.” .

Cal. “Well, I happened to go away for a week,
and, without saying a word, my young friend adver-
tises the house for sale.”

Meg. “ Ah! the old story. The wolf watches till
the dog is asleep, and then makes a meal of the
whole flock.”

Cal. “So he would have done, but the dog was
beforehand with him. But tell me, what was I to
do? Was I to inform him of-the existence of the
treasure, when his father had specially charged me
to say nothing about it? Or was I to let a stranger
become the owner of the house? Of course not.
I had to buy it myself, not for my own profit, as you
see, but for my friend. So I did; I paid the money
THE BURIED TREASURE. 243

out of my own pocket. Well, if that is behaving like
a rascal, as you put it, I plead guilty.”

Meg. “You are right; I have nothing to say.”

Cal, “ And now I want you to help me.”

Meg. “Tam at your service. But tell me, where
does the young man now live?”

Cal. “When he sold the house, he kept back this
little building in the rear, and he is living there now.”

Meg. “ And the daughter?”

Cal. “She isin my house. I treat her just as I
do my own child. Good by, my friend, and don’t be
so ready to believe all that these busybodies say.
They know everything: what the king whispers in
the queen’s éar, what Zeus has to say to Heré, in
short, everything that is, and a great deal that is not.”

Meanwhile, a conversation was going on elsewhere
in the city which promised to produce a new compli-
cation. A young Athenian named Lysiteles has
fallen in love with the daughter of Charmides. The
difficulty was that the girl was probably without a
dowry. Her father was abroad, no one knew where;
her brother, who was the most notorious young spend-
thrift in Athens, could not be expected to do any-
thing for her. The young man was in great doubt
whether Philto, his father, could be induced to con-
sent to his marriage with a portionless girl, Anyhow,
he would see what could be done. Accordingly he
proceeded to pay the old gentleman a visit. He
found him in a moralizing mood. “My son,” said
244 PHILEMON.

the old man, ‘“‘as you love me, don’t have anything
to do with the worthless fellows who are to be found
everywhere nowadays. This is an awful time that
we are living in. I know it well; there is robbing
and lying everywhere; nothing is sacred to these
fellows. I can’t sleep for thinking of it. I posi-
tively weep to think that I have lived to see such
days. My dear son, do mind what I say to you. Do
as I do; that is the good, old-fashioned way of living ;
keep to that, and you'll never get into trouble.”

Lysiteles. “My dear father, I have always felt
that, freeman as I was, I could not do better than be
your slave.”

Philto, “The great question with a young man is
this: are his inclinations to master him, or is he to
master his inclinations? If you get the better in
this conflict, it will be all right with you; if you are
worsted, it will be all wrong.”

Lys. “JT have always done my best to keep myself
from harm. I have shunned bad companions; I
have kept good hours; I have avoided anything that
could vex you; I have followed your precepts to the
utmost of my power.”

Phil. “Don’t reckon up your goodness in that
fashion. My days are pretty well over; it is you
whom these things concern, and I take it that a
really honest man is never very well satisfied with
himself.”

Lysiteles now saw that his protestations of filial.
THE BURIED TREASURE, 245

piety and rectitude were not likely to do him much
good, and thought it better to go straight to the
point. “TI have a great favour to ask you, my dear
father,” he said.

Phil. “What is it? I shall be glad to do any- -
thing I can.” :

Lys. “There is a young friend of mine, of an ex-
cellent family I should say, who has not managed
his affairs very prudently. I should like to help
him.”

Phil, “With your own means?”

Lys. “ Certainly; I suppose I may say that what
is yours is mine. I am sure that all that is mine is
yours.” :

Phil, “Ts your friend poor ?”

Lys. “He is poor.” —

Phil, “ Had he any property ?”

Lys. “ He had.”

Phil. “ How did he lose it? By farming, or the
taxes, or by trade ventures ?”

Lys. “No, no; by nothing of that kind.”

Phil. “ How was it, then?”

Lys. “ By his lazy ways, and a certain habit he had
of pleasing himself.”

Phil. “Well, you are certainly a candid friend.
You don’t mince matters, —a poor fellow that never
did anything that he ought, and yet is in want.
Somehow I don’t care that you have friends of this
kind,”
246 « PHILEMON.

Lys. “There is no harm in him, and I should like
to give him a little help.”

Phil. “You don’t really help a ene by giving
him something to spend in eating and drinking.
You lose what you give him, and only prolong his
misery. However, I don’t mean this to apply to
your friend. I don’t like, in fact, to refuse anything
in reason. Tell me what it is you want. Speak
freely to your father.”

Lys. “ Lesbionicus, who lives there —”

Phil, “Oh! that is the man, is it? The fellow
who has eaten up all that he had and all that he
hadn’t. However, what do you want to give him?”

Lys. “Nothing at all, father; only you must not
hinder him from giving me something, if he wants
to.”

Phil. “How you're to help him by taking some-
thing from him I cannot see.”

Lys. “Perhaps I can show you. You know what
family he nee to?”

Phil. “Yes; it’s as good as any in Athens.”

Lys. “He ae a grown-up sister. I want to marry
her without a dowry.”

Phil, “Without a dowry!”

Lys. “Yes, father; it won’t make us worse thought
of.”

Phil. “Well, let it be so, if you will have it.”

Lys. “One thing more; would you mind asking
for her?”
THE BURIED TREASURE. 247

Phil. “This is a pretty business I have let myself.
in for. However, it has to be done. What is the
use of trying to cross one’s son? It only breeds
trouble for oneself, and does ‘no sort of good. But
here comes the young man himself in the nick of
time.”

And, indeed, Lesbionicus had just come out of
his house in consultation with his slave Stasimus.
“ Stasimus,” he said, “it is just a fortnight since Cal-
licles paid me two hundred pounds for my house.
Is it not so?”

Stasimus. “I do remember something about it.”

Lesbionicus. “Well, what has become of the
money?”

Stas. “Eaten away, drunk away, bathed away;
the fishmongers, bakers, cooks, butchers, green-gro-
cers, poulterers have got it. They are like so many
ants with a poppy-head.”

Les. “T don’t think they had more than five and
twenty pounds.”

Stas. “Then there are the presents you made.”

Les. “ Put them down at as much more.”

Stas. ‘Then there is what I cheated you of.”

Les. “Ah! that is more than either.”

Stas. “Then you had to pay fifty pounds to the
bank for Olympias, the money you were surety for.”

Les. “Ah! poor fellow, I could not refuse to
help. I was so sorry for him.”

Stas. “I wish you would be sorry for yourself.”
248/655 PHILEMON.

_ At this point Philto came up. He courteously in-
troduced the business which he had in hand. ~Les-
bionicus could not believe him to be serious. It was
not like him, he said, to make fun of an unfortunate
man. Philto protested that he had no thought of
the kind in his head; but only to be met with the
reply that the two families were not in the same
position. The daughter of an impoverished house
could not marry into one so wealthy. “I had
hoped,” said the old man, “for a kinder answer. -
It is not wise to refuse a friendly offer.”

Stas. “The old man is right.” _

Les. (to the slave). “ Hold your tongue, or I’ll knock
your eye out.”

Stas. “I don’t care. If I had only one eye I _
should say the same.”

Phil. “You say our position is not the same.
Well, consider this. You are next to a rich man at
a public dinner. Something is served to him which
you like; would you eat it with him, or go away
dinnerless ?”

Les. “I should eat it with him, if he did not ob-
ject.”

Stas. “So should I, whether he objected or not.
We must have no false shame about eating. Itisa
matter of life and death. I will make way for a man
in the street or the footpath; but when it, comes to
eating — no; in these hard times a dinner is not to
be despised.”


OOO
THE BURIED TREASURE. 249

Phil. “My dear Lesbionicus, what are the odds
between one nian and another? The gods are great
and rich, but we mortals —what are we? Just a
breath of air; that gone, the rich man and the beg-
gar are just the same. And now to show you that
we have no feeling of superiority, I ask you to give
your sister to my son without a dowry. Heaven
prosper the match! May I consider it settled?
Pray say, ‘I promise.’ ”

Stas. “The other day he was ready enough to
say, ‘I promise’; now when he ought to, he won’t.”

Les. “ Philto, I am greatly honoured by your high
opinion of my family. However, though things have
not gone very well with me, I have still a little
farm, near the city. That I will give as my sister’s
dowry.”

Phil, “T assure you that I do not want a dowry.”

Les. “Tam resolved to give it.”

Stas. (aside to his master). “What are you doing?
Giving away our only subsistence? How are we to
live now?”

Les. (to the slave). “Hold your tongue! Am I
going to give account to you?”

Stas. “We are undone, unless I can contrive to
stop it somehow.”

He drew Philto aside, and whispered to him, “ Let
me have a word with you.”

Phil. “Speak on.”

Stas, ‘For heaven’s sake, never allow that farm
250 PHILEMON,

to become yours or your son’s. When we plough it,
the oxen cannot get through five furrows without
dying. The wine gets rotten before it is ripe. Sow
corn, and you'll get just a third of it back.”

Phil. “Ah! that should be just the place to sow
bad habits.”

Stas. “Every one to whom that field has belonged
has come to a bad end. Some have been banished;
others are dead and gone; some have hanged them-
selves. The man to whom it now belongs is utterly
ruined,”

Phil, “Vl have nothing to do with it.”

Stas. “Ah! you would say that if you knew all.
Every other row of trees is struck with lightning.
The sows die of suffocation. The sheep get scabby;
they are as smooth as my hand. And as for
men, the Syrians, who, as you know, are the hardi-
est labourers there are, can live there only six
months. Now don’t say that I told you, but the
fact is that my master wants to get rid of the
place.”

Phil. “Well, I promise you it shall never be
mine.”

Stas. (aside). “Ah! I’ve frightened the old gen-
tleman off. How in the world we should have lived
without that farm is more than I can say.”

Phil. “How about our matter, Lesbionicus?”

Les. “What was that fellow talking to you
about ?”
THE BURIED TREASURE. 251

Phil. “Oh! it seems he wants to be free, and
hasn’t got the money.”

Les. “Just as I want to be rich, and I haven’t got
the money. Now, Stasimus, go to Callicles’s house,
and tell my sister what has been settled.” .

Stas. “T will go.”

Les. “ And give her my congratulations.”

Stas. “Of course.”

Les. “And tell Callicles that I should be glad to
see him.” :

Stas. “Hadn't you better go, sir?”

Les. “To settle about the dowry.”

Stas. “Pray go!”

Les. “T have quite made up my mind that she
must have a dowry.”

Stas. “Now do go!”

Les. “Of course I can’t let her be injured —”’

Stas. “Pray go!”

Les, “By my carelessness.”

Stas. “ Pray go!”

Les. “Tt is only fair that if I have done wrong —”

Stas. “Now do go!”

Les. “T should suffer.”

Stas. “Go, go!”

Les. “Father, father, shall I ever see you again?”

Stas. “Go, go, go!”

Les. “Well, I am going. See that you do what
I told you.”

1 The slave is anxious to get his master out of the way.
252 PHILEMON. -

Stas. “At last I have got rid of him. If I have
saved the farm, there is something done, for we have
got a good husband for the young mistress. But I
don’t feel quite easy; and if the farm goes, then
it is all over with my neck. I shall have to carry
shield, helmet, and knapsack; for the young master
will be off as soon as the wedding is over. He will
go soldiering to some accursed place, and I shall
have to go with him. But now for my errand,
though I hate the sight of the house, since we have
been turned out of it.”

Callicles was not a little surprised at the news
which Stasimus communicated — Lesbionicus’s sister
was to be married to Philto’s son, and without a
dowry. He was more than surprised; he was scan-
dalized. The idea was monstrous; such a thing
could not be permitted. Finally, he made up his
mind to ask the advice of Megaronides, his censor,
as he called him, and went off for that purpose.
“ Ah! my friend,” said Stasimus, as soon as his back
was turned, “I see what you are after. You mean
to turn the poor fellow out of his farm as you did
out of his house. O my poor master Charmides,
what havoc they are making with your property!
How I should like to see you come back and punish
these false friends, and reward your poor, faithful
Stasimus !”

The slave’s prospects continued to have a gloomy
look. A conversation which he overheard between
THE BURIED TREASURE. 253

his young master and the son-in-law that was to be
did not reassure him. The young spendthrift was
determined not to let his sister go portionless into
another family. He roundly accused his friend of
unwittingly desiring to do him a great injury. The
friend retorted that all the injury that he had suffered
had been done by himself. His father and his
grandfather’s exertions had laid an honourable career
open to him, and by his idleness and folly he had
lost the opportunity.

“T want,” said Lysiteles, “to leave you this farm
as something to begin with. As an utterly penniless
man you would have no chance of retrieving your
position.”

Lesbionicus had no hesitation in acknowledging ~
that he had been grievously to blame. “Only,” he
said, “what you want to do would send me down
from bad to worse. I should be poor, if I do as I
propose, but I should not be dishonourable. To let
my sister marry without a dowry would be to disgrace
her and myself; for you to take her would, indeed,
redound to your credit, but in exactly the same
degree it would be discreditable to me.”

“Redound to my credit!” cried Lysiteles, “it
would do nothing of the kind. I know what you are
going to do. The marriage once celebrated, you
mean to fly from your kinsfolk, friends, and country.
And what will people say of me? Why, that my
greed had driven you away.”
254 PHILEMON.

Stasimus could not contain himself at this, so
admirable did the argument appear. “Good! good!
Lysiteles,” he cried, “your play gets the prize.”

Les. “What brings you here?”

Stas. “My feet, to be sure, and they are going to
take me away. Ah!” he went on, as the two young
men walked away, unable to come to an agreement;
“what will become of me? There is nothing left
for me but to strap up my knapsack and throw my
shield over my shoulders. However keen the fight-
ers I may fall in with, I warrant I shall be quite
as keen—in running away. Fit me out with a bow
and arrows in my hand, and a helmet on my head,
and I’ll be as good as any man, as far as sleeping in
my tent is concerned. However, there is that talent
that is owing me. I will go and get it; that will
give me something for my journey.”

Meanwhile Callicles had asked his friend’s advice
in the matter of the marriage portion. That the
girl should go without a dowry when there was
money at hand was impossible, as well as for other
reasons. Callicles could not pay it out of his own
pocket. People would be sure to say that he was
giving a part only of what the absent father had
provided. The marriage could not be put off, for
the young man might change his mind; and the
secret of the treasure could not be revealed, in view
of the father’s strict injunctions to the contrary.
Under these circumstances the friend’s advice was
_THE BURIED TREASURE. 2e8

to this effect: Make every one believe that the girl’s
father has sent home a messenger with a thousand
gold philips for his daughter’s dowry. The money
you can supply yourself, repaying it out of the
treasure when the proper time comes. The supposed
messenger you can find in one of those fellows
who are always glad to do any kind of job for a
consideration. Dress him up in some outlandish
fashion, and tell him to say that he comes from
Charmides in Seleucia; that the old man is well,
and means to return very shortly; meanwhile, he
sends his love and this money. He must have with
him two letters, one to his son, one to you. These
we shall have to make up. The letters must desire
the gold to be given to you; as a matter of fact, you
will pay it over to the husband when the wedding is
over. The son will think it comes from his father;
and you can repay yourself out of the treasure when
all is quiet. There may be a difficulty about the seal
on the letters. The young man probably knows his
father’s device, and will wonder that the new docu-
ments did not bear it. That, however, may easily be
accounted for. Charmides might have lost his seal,
or the letters might have been opened in the custom-
house.

This plan did not altogether commend itself to.
Callicles, who did not like the idea of so elaboxate
a plot. However, he agreed to do his part and pro-
ceeded to hire a messenger.
256 PHILEMON.

Meanwhile Charmides himself had landed, and was
making his way to his home. It so happened, in-
deed, that he and his own pretended messenger came
at the same time into the street in which his house
stood. His attention was attracted by the man’s curi-
ous dress, the most conspicuous feature of which was
a huge hat resembling a mushroom. A closer inspec-
tion did not make him like the man’s look any more.
“ That’s some swindler or cutpurse,” he said to him-
self. ‘He’s probably examining the house, and
means to pay them a visit some night.” When the
next moment he saw the stranger knock at his own
door, it seemed to him high time to interfere. ‘Ho!
young man,” he cried, “what do you want? What
are you knocking at that door for?”

Messenger. “T want a young man of the name of
Lesbionicus, and an old gentleman, Callicles by name,
who has a white head like you.”

Charmides (aside). “Why, he is asking after my
son, and the friend to whom I entrusted my family
and my property.”

Mes. “Can you tell me where these gentlemen
live?”

Char. “You tell me first who you are, what is your
family, and where you come from.”

Mes. “That is a great number of questions to put
all at once. I don’t know which to answer first. Put
them quietly one by one, and I'll tell you my name,
what I have done, and where I have travelled.”
THE BURIED TREASURE. 257

Char. “Very good; begin by telling me your name.”

Mes. “Yowyre beginning with something very diffi-
cult.”

Char. “Why so?”

Mes. “T have so many names that, if you began at
dawn, you would not reach the end before midnight.”

Char. “Your first name, then?”

Mes. “*Pax.’ That is my every-day name.”

Char. “Well, what business have you with these
people whom you are asking after?”

Mes. “The father of this young friend of mine,
Lesbionicus, gave me two letters.”

Char. (aside). “Well, I have got him here. He
says that I gave him two letters. I'll have a fine
game with the fellow.” :

Mes. “The old gentlemen said that I was to hand
one of the letters to his son Lesbionicus, and the
other to his friend Callicles.”

Char. “Where was he?”

Mes. “He was quite well.”

Char. “ But where?”

Mes. “In Seleucia.”

Char. “Did he give you the letters himself ?”

Mes. “Yes, with his own hands.”

Char. ‘What sort of look had he?”

Mes. “Oh, a foot and a half taller than you.”

Char. “There’s a hitch here — it seems that I am
taller there than here. Do you know him?”

Mes. “What a question! Do I know the man
that I used to dine with?”

17
258 : PHILEMON.

Char. “What was his name?”

Mes. “Name? An honest man’s name.”

Char. ‘That makes me want more to hear it.”

Mes. “His name was — was —” (Aside) ‘ Here’s
a piece of bad luck!”

Char. “What is the matter?”

Mes. “Thad it on the tip of my tongue.” »

Char. “You don’t seem to know him very -well.”

Mes. “Not know him! I know him as well as I
know myself. But it is always the way — the thing
you know best you are apt to forget. However, I
can make it out letter by letter. I know it begins
with a ‘C.’”

Char, “Callias?”

Mes. “No.”

Char. “Callippus?”
Mes. “No.”

Char. “Callidemides?”
Mes. “No.”

Char. ‘ Callimenes?”
Mes. “No.”

Char. ‘“Callimachus ?”

Mes. “Tt is of no use; and indeed it does not
matter in the least.”

Char. “Well, there are many men of the name
Lesbionicus here, and unless you know the father’s
name you may not be able to find the young man.
See whether you can guess it.”

Mes. “Well, it was something beginning with
‘Char,’ ”
THE BURIED TREASURE. 259

Char. “Chares? or Charides? or was it by any
chance Charmides ?”

Mes. “Ah! that was it. Confound the fellow!”

Char. “Why confound him?”

Mes. “Because the villain kept giving me the slip.”

Char. “ How did you come across him?”

Mes. “Oh! in the course of my travels.”

Char. “Where did you travel, then?”

Mes. “First I sailed to Arabia in Pontus.”

Char. “Oh! Pontus is in Arabia, is it?”

Mes. “1 don’t mean the place where the frankin-
cense grows, but the wormwood country.”

Char. (aside). “This is a pretty kind of liar! But
what a fool I am to ask him these questions; still, I
want to see how he’ll get out of it.” (Zo the messen-
ger) “Well, where did you go after Arabia?”

Mes. “Oh! to the river that rises in heaven under
the throne of Zeus.”

Char. “Under the throne of Zeus?”

Mes. “Just so.”

Char. “Rises in heaven, did you say?”

Mes. “Yes, in heaven, in the middle of it.”

Char. “So you’ve been up to heaven?”

Mes. “Just so; we sailed up-stream in a skiff.”

Char. “ And did you see Zeus?”

Mes. “No; the other gods said that he had gone
to his country-house to serve out his slaves’ rations.
But would you point out to me the persons who ought
to have the letters?”
260 alae PHIEEMON.

. Char. “Tf£ you were to happen to see this Char-
mides, do you think you would know him again?”

Mes. “Know him again? Do you take me for a
fool not to know the man that I have lived with ?
And do you think that he would ‘have trusted me
with a quantity of gold—a thousand philips, noth-
ing less — unless we had known each other perfectly
well?”

Char. “ Now, if I could but swindle the swindler
A thousand philips indeed! and I would not trust
him with one brass farthing —no, not if it were a
matter of life and death! Come, Pax, a word with
you.”

Mes. “Three hundred, if you like.”

Char. “ Have you. got that money you talked of?”

Mes. “Yes, of course; a thousand gold pieces.”

Char. “ And you received it from Charmides him-
self?”

Mes. “From whom should I receive it? Not
from his father or his grandfather, who are dead, I
take it.”

Char. “Then hand over the gold to me, my. y young
friend.”

Mes. “Hand it over to you! Why?”

Char. “Because you said that I gave it you. I
am Charmides.”’

Mes. “You Charmides? Not you!”

Char. “T tell you I am Charmides.”

Mes. “It is no good, my friend; you are too

”
THE BURIED TREASURE. 261

clever. When I mentioned the gold, you made your-
self Charmides; now you may unmake yourself.”
Char. “ But who am I, if I am not Charmides?”
Mes. “What is that tome? You may be anybody
but he.”
' And the man went off to tell his employer the
curious adventure he had met with. ;
Stasimus, who had been trying to drown his cares
in drink, now returned, talking to himself about the
degeneracy of the times. For a while Charmides
listened to his soliloquy without knowing who he
was, but when the slave happened to turn his face,
he recognized him. “Ho! Stasimus,” he cried. —
“Order your own servant,” was the answer. — “ Well,”
‘said Charmides, “ you are my servant, for I certainly
bought you.” The slave, who was scarcely sober,
continued to make impertinent answers, till his mas-
ter said, “ Look at me; I am Charmides.”
Stas. “Who spoke of that good man Charmides?”
Char. “The good man himself.”
Stas. “Heavenand earth! Is it the man himself,
or is it not? It is he; it certainly is! O my dear,
dear master!”
Char. “ Are my children well?”
Stas. “Very well indeed.”
Char. “Both of them?”
Stas. “Yes; both of them.”
Char. “Well, I have a hundred things to talk
about. Come in here” (pointing to his old house).
262 PHILEMON.. ©

Stas. “ Where are you going?”

Char. ‘Where should I go?”

Stas. “That’s not your house now; your son sold
it for two hundred pounds in ready money.”

Char. “Good heavens! and who bought it ?”

Stas. “Callicles, your fine friend whom you
trusted.” ee

Char. “ And where does my son live?”

Stas. “In the little place at the back.”

Char. “To think of this, after all I have done
for him! It kills me. Hold me up, Stasimus.”

It was not difficult, however, to console the old
man. Callicles, who was actually digging up the
treasure at the time, came running out in the street,
just as he was, on hearing his friend’s voice, and
explained what had happened. While he was talk-
ing Lysiteles appeared, and after listening a while to
the conversation of the two friends, introduced him-
self, was warmly greeted, and had his betrothal
confirmed by the father of the lady himself. Only
he was given to understand he must be content to
take the dowry as well as the girl. To this he could
make no objection; and, the engagement ratified, he
proceeded to ask a favour on his own account.
Would Charmides forgive his spendthrift son? The
old man hesitated a moment. “I hardly think it
right,” he said, “and yet I should not like to refuse
your first request. ‘Let it be as you wish.” Les-
bionicus, accordingly, was summoned, and greeted
THE BURIED TREASURE. 263

his father with no little confusion of face. “Father,”
he began, “if you have suffered —” he stammered
out. — ‘Oh! it has been nothing,” said the old man,
“if you would only turn over a new leaf.” Lesbi-
onicus was profuse in his promises of amendment.
“Then,” said his father, “suppose you marry the
daughter of our friend Callicles here.”

Les. “Certainly, my dear father, her and any one
else you please to mention.”

Char. “No, no. I was angry with you, and not
without good reason; but, after all, one plague is
enough, even for you.”

Les. “Tam going to reform.”

Char. “So you say; let us hope you will do it.”

Lys. “Is there any reason why I should not be
married to-morrow ?”

Char. “None whatever; and you, my son, be
ready to be married the day after.”
II.
THE GHOST.
[From PHILEMON. Translated by PLAUTUS.]

PHILOLACHES, a young Athenian gentleman, had
been left by his father, during the latter’s absence
on mercantile business in Egypt, with considerably
more liberty than was good for him. The business
had kept the old man away.for as much as three
years, and during that time the son had run through
no small amount of money, and had committed a
variety of follies. His adviser and abettor in these
had been a certain slave, Tranio by name.

One evening he was about to sit down to dinner,
when a friend, Callidamates by name, came in with
some companions. The new arrival had already
been drinking deeply at another entertainment, but
growing weary of his host, had thought fit to change
the scene. ‘“ Philolaches,” he said, “is always the
best of fellows and the pleasantest of hosts. I will
go and see him.” It was no easy task for his friends
to pilot him through the streets, for more than once
he manifested a decided inclination to lie ‘down.
When at last he arrived, he could do nothing but
goto sleep. A few minutes after, the slave Tranio

264
THE GHOST. 265

came bustling in with some very alarming news.
He had been sent by his master down to the har-
bour, with instructions to buy some fish. When the
young man saw him, he only supposed that the
errand had been accomplished. “Ah!” he said,
“Tyanio at last! Now we shall be able to dine.” —
“Philolaches!” cried the man, breathlessly, for he
had been running as fast as he could.

Philolaches. “Well, what is it?”

Tranio. “You and I—”

Phil. “What about you and me?”
- Tra. “ Are undone.”

Phil, “What do you mean?”

Tra. “Your father has come back.”

Phil. “Where is he?” é

Tra. “ At the harbour.” .

Phil. “Who saw him?”

Tra. “1 did, with my own eyes.”

Phil. “Well, if that’s true, it is all over with me.”

Tra. “True! of course it is true. What should
I tell a lie for?”

Phil. “But what am I to do?”

Tra. “Get rid of your company here in the first
place. Who is that asleep on the couch there?”
. Phil. “That is Callidamates. Wake~ him,” he
went on, speaking to another of the guests.

Guest. “ Callidamates, Callidamates, wake up!”

Callidamates. “I am awake. Give me something
to drink.”
266 PHILEMON.

Guest. “Wake up, I say.. Philolaches’s father has
come back from abroad.”

Cal. “ Bother his father!”

Phil. “For goodness’ sake, wake up! My father .
has come.”

Cal. “Your father has come? Then make him
go away again; what business has he to come both-
ering here?”

Phil. “What can I do? My father will be here
directly and find pretty goings on. It’s a bad busi-
ness. I can’t think what is to be done. It is like
beginning to dig a well when one is dying of thirst.
And see, that fellow there has dropped asleep again.
Wake! Isay. Don’t you know that my father will
be here in a minute?”

Cal. “Your father, do you say? Give me my
shoes and my sword; Ill kill your father.”

Tranio now rose to the occasion: He bade his
master cheer up. He would keep, he said, the old
man from comirig into the house. The guests need
not go; they might continue to enjoy themselves;
only the house must he shut up; there must be no
noise, and if there was a knocking at the door,
there must be no attempt to reply. To make assur-
ance doubly sure, he would take the precaution of
locking the door from the outside. These arrange-
ments had scarcely been made, when the father,
whose name was Theopropides, arrived, followed by
his slaves. Reaching his house, he stood awhile to
THE GHOST. 267

return thanks to Poseidon for having allowed. him
to come back safe. “But,” he went on, “I don’t
trust you again. If I do, I give you leave to do
what you please.”

Tra, (aside). “Poseidon, you made a great mis-
take when you allowed this fellow to come back.”

Lheopropides. “Three years have I been away in
Egypt, and my household, I hope, will be glad to
see me back again. But what is the meaning of
this? The door shut in the daytime! _ Ho, there,
open the door!” (Kxocks.)

At this point Tranio came up, and was recognized
by his master. After mutual greetings, the old man
expressed his astonishment that he could not get
any one to open the door, or even to make any
answer. He had already almost broken in the door.
Wasn’t there any one at home?”

Tra, “Have you really touched the house?”

Theo. “Why shouldn’t I touch it? Touched it
indeed! I have pretty nearly broken the doors in.”

Tra. “You have actually touched it?”

Theo. “Yes; touched it and kicked it.”

Tra. “That’s a bad business.”

Theo. “What is the matter?”

' Iva. “T can’t say what a terrible thing you have
done.”

Theo. “What?”

Tra. “ For heaven’s sake, come away, come nearer
tome. Did you really touch the door?”
268 ‘PHILEMON.

' Theo. “Touched it? I tell you I kicked it.”

Tra. “Then you. have utterly ruined you and
yours. But tell those men to go away, and I’ll ex-
plain. For seven months past, ever since we left
it, no one has set foot inside that house.”

Theo. “But why?”

Tra. “Listen. But first, can any one hear me?”

Theo. “No, no. It’s all safe.”

Tra. “ Look again.”

- Theo. “There is no one; go on.”

Tra. “A frightful murder was once done in that
house. The crime was committed many years ago,
and had been forgotten. We only lately came to
know of it.”

Theo. “What was it? Who did it?”

Tra. “In that house a host murdered his guest, —
I fancy it was the man who sold the house to you, —
possessed himself of his victim’s money, and buried
the body somewhere in the house.”

Theo. “What makes you suspect that such a thing
happened ?”’ .

Tra. “Vl tell you: listen. One night your son
came home after dining out. He went to bed, and
so did we all. It so happened that I had forgotten
to put out one of the lamps. All of a sudden he
cried out —”’

Theo. “Who cried out, my son?”

Tra. “Hush! don’t say a word. He said that the
dead man had appeared to him in his sleep.”
THE GHOST. 269

Theo. “In his sleep, you say ?”

Tra. “Certainly. How could he have appeared
to him when he was awake, seeing that it was sixty
years since the man was killed? You are sometimes
extraordinarily stupid, my master.”

Theo. “1 say no more.”

Tra. “What the dead man said to him was this:
‘I am a stranger from over the sea, Diapontius by
name. I dwell here. The regions below would not
receive me because I was slain before my time. I
was treacherously murdered by my host in this house,
and within these walls. I was thrust into the earth
without due burial rites. All this the villain did for
the sake of gain. Depart thou hence. This is a
wicked house; it is under a curse.’ This is what the ~
ghost said. As for the horrible things that happen
here, it would take me a year and more to tell them.
Hush!”

At this point a noise was heard from within. The
party had forgotten their situation, and were becom-
ing uproarious.

Theo. “ Good heavens! What is it?”

Tra. (speaking to the ghost). “It was he. that
knocked, not I.”

Theo. “Oh, dear! the dead man will carry me off

-alive!”

Tra. (aside). “These fellows will spoil the whole
business with their noise.” .

Lheo, “What are you talking to yourself about?”
270 ‘PHILEMON.

Tra. “Come away from the door, I implore you.
Come to me. I am not afraid. I am on good terms
with the dead.”

A voice from within cried, “ Tranio!”’

“Don’t call me,” said the slave. “I tell you it
' wasn’t I that knocked; it was my master.”

Theo. “Whom are you talking to?”

Tra. “Was it you that called? On my word, I
thought it was the dead man remonstrating with me
because I had knocked at the door. But come away.
Cover your head and fly.” .

Theo. “ Why don’t you fly?”

Tra. “1am on good terms with the dead.”

Theo. “I thought you seemed very frightened.”

Tra. “Never mind about me; I can take care of
myself.” 5

A new danger now presented itself. A money-
lender, who had supplied the young Philolaches with
a considerable sum, appeared on the scene, and

‘loudly complained, after the habit of his kind, of the
very unlucky year he had had. He loudly demanded
his money, while Tranio vainly endeavoured to get
rid of him. If he would come back a little later he
should have it without fail. The money-lender, how-
ever, preferred to stay. He had been put off sev-
eral times before, and would wait no longer.
Meanwhile Theopropides returned. He had been
to see the person of whom he had bought the house,
and had told him the whole story. He had been
THE GHOST. 271

met with a flat contradiction, and he now returned to
make further inquiries. The clamour made by the
money-lender attracted the attention of Theopro-
pides. ‘Who is this fellow,’ he said, “that is
making all this uproar? He seems to have some
complaint against my son.”

- Tra. “Oh, throw the money in his face, the horrid -
wretch |”

Money-Lender. “Throw away; I don’t object to
being pelted with silver.”

Tra. “Do you hear what he says? A regular
usurer all over.” é

Theo. “I don’t care who he is, or what heis. I
want to know about this money.”

Tra. “Well, if you must know, your son Philo-
laches owes him something.”

Theo. “ How much?” ;

Tra. “One hundred and sixty pounds, or there-
abouts. You don’t think that very much.”

Theo. “ A mere trifle, of course.”

Tra. “Then there is a little matter of interest, say
ten pounds more. Say that you will pay him, and
send him off.”

Theo. “1 am to say that I will pay him?”

Tra. “Yes, you. But listen. It is all right. Say
you will.”

Theo. “Tell me this — what has been done with
the money?”

Tra, “It’s all safe.”
272 PHILEMON.

Theo. “Vf it’s safe, my don’t you pay for it
yourselves ?”

Tra. “The fact is, your son bought a house.”

Theo. “ A house?”

Tra. “Yes, a house.”

_ Theo. “Good, good! He is a chip of the old
block; he has an eye to business. You say a house?”

Tra. “Yes, a house; .but what kind of a house,
do you think?”

Theo. “ How can I tell?”

Tra. “Where?”

Theo. “What do you mean?”

Tra. “Don’t ask me.”

Theo. “Why?”

Tra. “T tell you it’s a perfect picture.”

Theo. “Well done; but what does he give for it?”

Tra. “ Four hundred and eighty pounds, and has
paid the hundred by way of deposit. You see, when
he found out how it was with the other house, he
bought a new one for himself.”

Theopropides was so pleased with his son’s smart-
ness that he made no difficulty about promising the
money-lender that he would pay the debt. “And
now,” he said, turning to Tranio, “tell me where
the house is.”’ The question perplexed Tranio. “A
lie,” he said to himself, “is best served up hot, I have
heard. I must say the first thing that comes upper-
most.” (Zo Theopropides) “It was our next door
neighbour’s house that he bought.”
THE GHOST. 273

| Theo. “ Really?”

Tra. “Yes, really, if you are going to pay the
money ; but not really, if you don’t.”

Theo. “Well, I should like to see it,”

Tra. (to himself). “Here is another trouble. I’m
no sooner off one shoal than I am on to another.”

Theo. “What are you stopping for? Call some
one.”

Tra. “But, sir, there are ladies there ; and we
ought to find out whether they are willing to have
the house seen.” ;

Theo. “Very good; go and inquire. I will wait
for you here.”

Tra. “Confound the old man! how he ruins all
my little schemes. But here comes our neighbour
Sinio himself. Sinio, my master is very anxious to
see your house.”

Stnio. “But it is not for sale.”

Tra. “Tam quite aware of that; but the old man
wants to build apartments for the women, with a
bath and a colonnade.”

Siz. “What is he dreaming about?”

Tra. “You see he wants his son to marry as soon
as maybe. So he is anxious to build a new women’s
apartment. He has heard an architect say that your
house is astonishingly well built, and he wants to
make his on the same pattern. It is a capital place
in summer, he hears.”

Six. “Oh, indeed! I know the sun is like a

18
274 _ PHILEMON.

dun; we never get rid of him. As for shade, there
is none, except you get into the well. However, if
he wants to see the house, he is quite welcome, and
to copy it, too, if he pleases.”

Tranio now went to fetch his master, who haa
been waiting impatiently for him. The vendor, he
explained, had been busy, and he had to wait till
he was at leisure. “There he is,” he went on,
“standing at his door and waiting for us. See how
sad he is about having sold his house. He begged
me to persuade your son to give up the bargain.” —
“Give up the bargain!” said Theopropides. “No,
no; every man for himself. If he made a bad bar-
gain, we are not going to give it up. If one gets a
little bit of advantage, one must keep it.”

Sinio received his visitor very politely, begging
him to walk over the house as if it were his own.
“As if,” said Theopropides, half aloud.

“Don't, don’t!” interrupted Tranio; “say nothing
about having bought the house. Don’t you see how
gloomy he looks ?.”

As a matter of fact, Sinio’s gloom had been
caused by a naturally bad temper and a quarrel
with his wife.

Theopropides now went over the house, criticising
this and that detail, but admiring it on the whole,
while Tranio pointed out its beauties, and felt not a
little relief when the owner, pleading business else-
where, left the two to inspect the remainder of the
THE GHOST. - 278

house by themselves. The result of this inspection
was a thorough satisfaction on the old man’s part
with the bargain that his son had made. “I would
not take fifteen hundred pounds for the place, money
down,” he said, when he had finished his survey.
Tranio promptly claimed credit for his share in the
transaction. “TI advised it,” he said; “I made him
borrow the money for the deposit.” Theopropides
declared his intention of concluding the business
the next day by paying up the balance that remained
to be paid, and directed Tranio to announce his
arrival to his son, who, he had been given to under-
stand, was at his farm outside the city.
A slave of Callidamates now made his appear-
ance. He had come to fetch his master, who would
probably be unable by that time to make his way
home alone. Theopropides, who was surveying his
new possession, as he supposed it to be, from the
outside, seeing him knock at the door, and hearing
him call for Tranio, asked him his business.

Slave. “TI have come to fetch Callidamates.”

Theo. “But why knock at that door?”

Stave. “ Because my master is drinking inside.”

Theo. “Nonsense, young man. No one lives
here.”

Slave. “Doesn’t Philolaches live here?”

Theo. “He used to live here, but he has moved.”

Slave. “You are very much mistaken, my dear
sir; unless he moved yesterday or to-day, he cer-
276 PHILEMON.

tainly lives here. The fact is, that since his father
went abroad, he has been keeping it up here with
his jolly companions.”

Theo. “Who has been keeping it up, do you say?”

Slave. ‘“ Philolaches.”

Theo. “What Philolaches?”

Slave. “Why, the Philolaches whose father is
named Theopropides.”

Theo. ‘‘ You say Philolaches has been in the habit
of drinking here with your master?”

Slave. “ Just so.”

Theo. “ And you are sure that you haven’t come
to the wrong house ?”’

Slave. “I know what I am about. This is the
house, and Philolaches is the young gentleman’s
name. He has been borrowing lately —”’

Theo. “ Borrowing what?”

Slave. “A hundred and sixty pounds.”

Theo. “ And you say that he has been keeping it
up with your master?”

Stave. “Just so.”

Theo. “ Didn’t he buy this next house?”

Slave. “JT never heard of it.”

Sinio, who had finished his business, now came
back, and Theopropides questioned him about the
house. ‘You received,” he said, “a hundred and
sixty pounds from my son Philolaches.” — “ Never a
shilling,” Sinio replied.— ‘Well, from Tranio the
slave.’ —“ No, nor from him.” A few more ques-
THE GHOST. 277

tions sufficed to show the-old man that the whole
story was a fiction from beginning to end. “Well,”
said he to his neighbour, “lend me two stout slaves
and a whip or two; that is all you can do for me,
for I have been most abominably cheated.”

Tranio had succeeded in clearing his master’s
house of its inconvenient inmates, and. was medi-
tating what was best to be done, when he saw his
master approach. A brief conversation followed,
and Tranio soon understood that his game was up.
The slaves were not to be seen, for Theopropides
had told them to keep in the background till he
should call them, but the culprit was perfectly well
aware that a very severe punishment awaited him.
His only resource was to flee for protection to the
family altar. This he at once did, and no persua-
sions could induce him to leave it.

Affairs were in this situation when Callidamates,
who had by this time slept off his drunkenness,
appeared upon the scene. Tranio, impudent to the
last, bantered his master on having been cheated so
grossly. “A man with white hair ought,” he said,
“to have known better. If you have a friend among
the comedians, you could not do better than tell him
the story of how a slave has taken you in.” Calli-
damates here intervened. “You must know that I
am your son’s closest friend. After what has hap-
pened he is ashamed to show himself. Pray pardon
his youthful folly. Young men will do such things,
278 PHILEMON:

and I am just as much in fault as he.is. As for the
money, I will pay it, capital and interest, out of my
own pocket.” een

“Very. good,” said Theopropides; “as you are so
liberal, I will forgive him. But as to that scoundrel
there, I will be the death of him.”

- “No, no, replied Callidamates; “ See him, for
my sake.”

“Pardon him!” cried the old man, ‘“‘a likely thing
indeed!”

“You may as well,” said Tranio, from his place of
refuge. “ You won't lose anything by it.. You may
be certain that I shall do something as bad to-morrow,
and then you can punish me to your heart’s content.”

Theo. “Well, well; TIL excuse. you. this . once,
but you have to thank my friend Callidamates for
your escape.”
III.

THE SHIPWRECK,
(7rom Diputus. Translated by PLaurus.]

“Tuat was a terrible storm we had last night, my
man,” said Deemones to his slave Sceparnio.

“True, master,’ replied Sceparnio; “I never
knew a worse. It has made more windows in the
poor old cottage than the builder ever meant there
to be.”

“Yes, indeed,’ Daemones went on. “And look
at the roof! It has as many holes in it as a sieve.”

Dzmones was a worthy Athenian who, though he
had not a single vice, had contrived to ruin himself
as effectually as if he had been the veriest spend-
thrift in the city. Nobody was more generous, and
nobody more unlucky. At last things came to such
a pass that he was obliged to leave Athens, and
settle down, with the few pounds that he had been
able to save out of the wreck, on a little farm which
a kinsman had left him near Cyrene. He was now
ruefully contemplating the damage which had been
done to the old farmhouse by the wind. Looking
round he saw a handsomely dressed young man, who

279
280 DIPHILUS.

had come up unobserved. His name was Plesi-
dippus, and he lived at Cyrene.

“Good morning, father,” said the stranger respect-
fully. — “ Father!” muttered the old man to himself.
It was a common mode of address from the young
to their elders, but poor Demones could never hear
it without emotion. It reminded him of what had
been a far greater trouble than the loss of his for-
tune. He had been robbed years before of his only
child, a sweet little girl of three years or so. She
had wandered out alone one morning, while her maid
was busy with some work, and had never been heard
of again.

“Good morning, my son,” he replied, recovering
himself. “What can I do for you?”

Plesidippus. “Have you seen a slave dealer, an
old rascal with curly white hair?”

Demones. “Old rascals I have seen in plenty, or
else I should not be here.”

Ples. “He had two girls with him, and he was
going to sacrifice in the temple of Aphrodité here.
It was to have been to-day, or possibly it was yes-
terday, though I think not.”

Dem. “There has been no one here on that
errand, I am sure. The fact is, that no one comes
to sacrifice without my knowing it. They are always
wanting water, or fire, or dishes, or knives, or some-
thing. My things belong much more to the goddess
than to me. No, my young friend, you may be
THE SHIPWRECK. 281

sure that no one has been here for several days
past.”

Ples. “Dear me! This is a bad business.”

Dem. “He asked you to dine with him after the
sacrifice ?”’

Ples. “He did.”

Dem, “ And hasn’t come?”

Ples. “Exactly; but.there is more than that. He
has cheated me most shamefully.”

Dem. “Stop! I see two men over there, by the
sea; possibly your friend may be one of them.”

Ples. ‘“‘Where? where?”

Dem. “There; to the right.”

Ples. “I see; I hope it is the scoundrel.” *

And the young man set off, running as fast as he
could.

He had hardly been gone a minute, when Dee-
mones’s slave, Sceparnio, who had been standing
by, listening to the conversation, cried out, “Look,
master!”

“What is it?” said Damones.

Sceparnio. “The boat! the boat! to the left there.”

Dem. “Tt is too far, I can’t see anything.”

Scep. “There are two women in it by themselves,
poor things. Good heavens! how the:sea is knock-
ing them about! Ah! they’re on the rock. No;
the wave carried them clear—a pilot couldn’t have
done it more cleverly. But what an awful sea! I
have never seen anything so bad in my life. Ah!
282 ' DIPHILUS.,

there’s one. of. them tossed right out of the. boat!
She is lost! No, she’s not! she’s in shallow water,
and has got upon her feet. Capital!. And now the
other has jumped on shore; silly thing, she does not
see her friend, and is going the wrong way.”

Dem. “Well, my man, now that you have seen
_ them safe on shore, perhaps you wouldn't mind going
on with your work; you are my servant, not theirs.
Come with me.”

Scep. “Very good, master, I am coming.”

And the two went off to fetch whet was wanted
for repairing the house.

While they were thus employed, one of the two
shipwrecked girls came along. She was in a terrible
state. of distress, poor creature, for she had lost
everything she had in the world except what she
stood up in, and she believed that her friend had
been drowned.

“Dear! dear!” she cried, wringing her hands.
“Why am I so dreadfully unlucky? I am sure that
I have always tried to be a good girl. I loved my
dear father while I had one, and I used to go regu-
larly to the temples; and yet, if I had been the
wickedest girl in the world, I could not have been
worse off. No food, no shelter, nothing left but
what I have on; and my dear Ampelisca drowned!
I could have borne it if she had been with me.”

And she sat down and cried as if her heart would
break. So overwhelmed was she with distress that
THE. SHIPWRECK, 283

she never caught sight of the cottage or the temple,
but fancied that she had been thrown ashore at some
uninhabited place.

Things, however, were not as shack as she feared.
Ampelisca had not-been drowned, and, though she
had missed her friend on first getting to land, had
afterwards wandered along the shore in the same
direction, looking for her, and very unhappy because
she could not find her.

“JT am sure I don’t want to live if everything is
going to be wretched,”.she said to herself. “ My
darling Palestra is lost, and there is nobody. to ask
whether they have seen her. I shouldn’t have thought
that there was such a lonely place in all the world as
this seems to be.”

She said this out loud, almost without knowing it,
and Paleestra, who was not far off, caught the sound.
“Ts that some one speaking ?” she said.

Ampelisca heard her, and cried, ‘“ Who's there?”

“Tt sounds like a woman’s voice,” said Palzestra.

“Tt must be a woman,” answered the other.

“Ts it you, Ampelisca ?”’

“Ts it you, Palzestra?”’

There was:a sort of thicket between them, and the
girls did not find it easy to get through it. At last
they managed it, and rushed into each other’s arms,
and kissed each other.

“Now, Palestra dear, what are we to do?” said
Ampelisca. Palzestra always took the lead.
284 DIPHILUS.

“Walk along the shore,” answered Palestra; “we
must come to some place sooner or later.”

Amp. “What! with these dripping clothes?”

Pal. “There is no help for it.”

Amp. “Stay! stay! don’t you see the temple
there?”

Pal. “Where?” ,

Amp. “To the right; and a very pretty temple it
seems.” .

Pal. “Well, if there is a temple, there must be
people about. Let us go there.” aN

So the girls went and fell on their knees in the
porch, and prayed: “Dear god or goddess, whoever
thou art, hear us, and help two unhappy women.”

The priestess, who was sitting inside, heard them
and came out.

“Good morning, mother,” said the girls.

“Good morning, my children,” answered the priest-
ess. “ But how is it you come in such a sorry plight?
We expect our visitors to be dressed in white, and to
bring offerings with them.” : :

“Yes, dear mother; but then we have been. ship-
wrecked, and had nothing to bring, and nothing to
wear but what you see. Do help us, pray, and give
us something to eat.”

“So I will, poor creatures,” said the priestess,
making them get up from their knees, “We are
very poor here, you must know,” she went on; “I
serve Aphrodité, but I get nothing for it: I have to
keep myself.”



THE SHIPWRECK. 285

“What!” said Ampelisca; “is this a temple of
Aphrodité?”

“Just so, and I am the priestess. But come along,
and I will do the best I can for you.”

Just as the three women disappeared into the tem-
ple, Plesidippus’s servant, Trachalio, came running
along the beach, looking for his master, who had
said he should be at the temple at noon. It was now
past noon, but he was not there. Some fishermen,
slaves of Daemones, were just getting their nets ready,
and Trachalio spoke to them. “ Have you seen my
master,” he asked, “a fine, bold young fellow, with a.
fresh-coloured face?”

“No,” said one of the men, “no one of the kind.”

“ Well, have you seen an old wretch with a huge
stomach and arched eyebrows, for all the world like
a satyr, who had two rather pretty girls with him?”

“No,” replied the fishermen, “we haven’t seen
either your good-looking young man, or your ill-look-
ing old one.”

“Well,” said Trachalio to himself, “I will go and
inquire at the temple.”

Just at that moment Ampelisca was coming out
with a water-can in her hand. She was going to fill
it at the cottage.

“Good heavens!” cried Trachalio, “ why, it is Am-
pelisca herself!”

“Why, it is Trachalio, Plesidippus’s valet,” said the
girl, equally surprised.
286 “= DIPHILUS. ©

» “How are you getting on, my dear Ampelisca ?”

Amp. “Only poorly. But where’s your master?”
- Trachalio. “What a question! Of course he is
inside there.” .

- Amp. “Inside! I have never seen him.”
- Lvrach. “1 suppose the dinner i is about ready ? bes
_ Amp. “What dinner?”

Trach, “Why, the sacrifice dinner, to which your
master Labrax invited my master.”

. Amp. “TI see, I see! He has cheated the man,
and he has cheated the god. There is no sacrifice,
and no dinner. Just like him!”

Trach. “Explain, explain !”’

Amp. “Listen, then. After he had made the ap-
pointment with your master to meet him here, old
Labrax took Palestra and me, and every stick of
property he had, and set sail for Sicily. He was
going to sell us there.”

- Trach. “ The scoundrel!”

Amp. “Well, the ship was wrecked, and evety-
thing went to the bottom.”

Trach. “Good Poseidon! But ‘what became of
Labrax?” , a os

Amp. “He died of drinking — salt water.”

Trach. “ Aha! very good. Poseidon sconced him:
to some purpose. But you— how did you escape! a”

Amp. “Why, we jumped into a boat when we saw.
that the ship was drifting on to the rocks, and after
being terribly knocked about, got to land more dead?
than alive.”
THE SHIPWRECK. 287

. Trach. “Justso, my dear. That’s Poseidon’s way.
He’s very particular. Give ne a bad piece of ‘goods,
and he’s sure to throw it up.”

Amp. “You're an impudent rascal’!

Trach. “ And so Labrax tried to carry you off.
Well, it is exactly what I knew he would do. After
this I’ll let my hair grow, and set up fora prophet.” _

Amp. “But if you knew it, my friend, why didn’t
you take care, youn master and you, that he did not
run off ?”

Trach. “ But how?”

‘Amp. “ Ask how, and he a lover? Why, watch
the girl night and day. Fine care he has taken of
her, indeed!”

Trach, “Well, -well; this watching is not so easy
as you think. You see, the thief knows the honest
man, but the honest man doesn’t know the thief.
But where is Palestra? I should like to see her.”

Amp. “You will find her in the temple. She is
crying, poor thing.”

Trach. “ But why?”

Amp. “Because she has lost the casket that had
her tokens in it. I mean the tokens by which her
parents were to recognise her. You-know she was
free-born. She had put the casket into’a little trunk,
and now it has gone to the bottom.”

_ Trach. “1 dare say some one has dived down and
recovered it. Anyhow, I will go in and try to cheer
her up.” Pas fs

{»?
288 DIPHILUS.

Amp. “Very good; and I will go and fetch the
water. What a good, kind creature the priestess is!
If we had been, her own daughters, she could not
have treated us better.”

While she went on her errand, who should appear
on the scene but Labrax himself. The old villain
had not been drowned after all. As may be sup-
posed, he was in a towering rage.

“Well,” he said, stamping his foot on the ground,
“if aman wants to be a beggar, let him venture on
the sea. This is the sort of plight that he comes
home in! But where is the old fool who let me in
for all this? Ah! I see him.”

The “old fool’s” name was Charmides. He was
in Labrax’s employment, and it was he who had ad-
vised the voyage to Sicily.

“What are you in this deadly hurry about?” cried
Charmides, who was an old man, when, with much
panting and puffing, he came up with his employer.
Labrax turned upon him sharply.

“Oh, it’s you, Charmides, is it? I wish you had
been crucified in your dear Sicily before ever I set
eyes on you.”

Charmides. “And I wish I had lodged in a jail
rather than with you.”

Labrax. “What in the world possessed me to listen
to you? It has ended in my losing every farthing
I had.”

Char. “No wonder: ill got, soon gone.”
THE SHIPWRECK. 289

Labr. “Yes; and you told me that I should make
my fortune in a trice in that precious island of
yours.”

Char. “And you thought, I suppose, that you
were going to swallow the place whole.”

Labr. “I tell you what, Charmides, some whale
has swallowed the trunk in which I had packed all
my gold and silver.”

Char. “The very same, I fancy, Labrax, that has
gobbled down my little pouch full of coin.”

' Labr. “And the end of it is that I am reduced to
this tunic and cloak.”

Char. “Well, we can go into partnership, for my
capital is just the same as yours.” ,

Labr. “If only the two girls had been saved, I
should not have minded. But now—and there’s
Plesidippus, who paid me a deposit for Palestra: if
he catches sight of me, there will be a pretty piece
of business.”

The truth was that Plesidippus had caught sight
of the girl as she was going back to her master’s
house from a music lesson, and had fallen in love
with her. Somehow he contrived to get a few words
with her, and finding that she was free-born, had
arranged to buy her and make her his wife. Part of
the purchase-money he paid down, but he had to
wait till the rest was remitted to him from Athens.
Meanwhile, the old villain, Labrax, had taken up
the idea of making off from Cyrene and going to

19
290 ' DIPHILUS.

Sicily, where he would get a high price for. his
slaves, and put Plesidippus’s deposit into his pocket
besides. The very day the purchase was to be com-
pleted, he had set sail, having fooled the young man
by making an appointment at the temple.

Labrax, of course, had no idea that what he said
about the two girls being saved could possibly be
true. He was sitting very disconsolately on the
ground, when he overheard the slave of Deemones
talking to himself. The man had been so charmed
with Ampelisca, who was a very pretty and lively
girl, that he had drawn the water which she had
come to fetch,.and had carried it for her into the
temple. What he saw there so astonished him that
he could not help talking about it when he came
out. .

“I never saw such a thing in my life,” he said.
“Two girls sitting with their arms-round the statue
of the goddess, as if they were afraid. of being
dragged away.”

.Labrax pricked up his ears. ‘What do you say,
young man?” he asked. ‘Two girls! Where?”

“In the temple, to be sure,” said the man.

“ Charmides,” pace Labrax, “they must be mine.
I will go.in and see.’

Just as he went in, Demones came out be his
cottage, talking to himself.

“‘What fools the gods make of us. Even at night
they don’t let us sleep in peace. Last night I had
THE SHIPWRECK. 291

the strangest dream. I thought I saw an ape trying
to climb up to a swallow’s nest. The beast could not
manage it, so he came and asked me to lend him a
ladder: I.said ‘No; I am an Athenian, and the
swallows are my kinsfolk; for the first swallow was
an Athenian princess. I can’t have you hurt them.’
The ape was furious, and threatened me with all
sorts of trouble. Thereupon I got angry, caught the
beast round the middle, and shut him up in a prison.
Now what in the world can be the meaning of such
a dream as that? But, hark! What’s all this up-
roar in the temple ?”’

Almost as he spoke, the slave Trachalio rushed
out of the temple door, shouting, “ Help, help, every-
body! Don’t allow such abominable things to be
done! They are carrying off some poor creatures
who have taken sanctuary. Make an example of the
scoundrels! Help, help!”

“What in the world is the matter with you?” said
-Deemones. ai

Trach. “Y beseech you, old man, by your knees,
whoever you are —” +3

Dem...“Never mind about my knees. Tell me
what you are making all this noise about.”

Trach. “TY beseech you, as you hope for a good
crop of garlic—” :

Dem. “1s the fellow mad?”

Trach. “1 beseech you, as you would have your
assafoetida —”
292 DIPHILUS.

Dem. “1 beseech you, as you would zot have a
good crop of birch twigs about your legs, to tell why
you are making all this uproar.”

Trach. “Well, sir, there are two poor girls in the
temple here, who want your help; and the priestess,
too, is being shamefully knocked about.”

Dem. “Knocked about! The priestess! "Who
could have dared? Who is the man, and who are
the girls?”

Trach. “The man is a slave-dealer; the girls, both
of them by rights free, had their arms round the
goddess; he tried to drag them away, and when the
priestess wanted to stop him he nearly strangled
her.”

Dem. “ Strangle the priestess! I’ll strangle him.
Ho, there!”

Two stout fellows came hurrying out at the call.

“Quick!” said the old man; “quick, into the
temple with you! There is a fellow there who has
hold of two girls. Drag him out by the heels like a
dead pig.” :

While this was going on the girls had wrenched
themselves from the hands of the slave-dealer, and
came rushing out of the temple by another door into
the court outside. Dzmones had followed his men,
and was inside.

“We'll kill ourselves sooner than be carried off,”
cried both the girls.

“Don’t talk nonsense about killing yourselves,”
THE SHIPWRECK. 293

said Trachalio. “I’ll see that you come to no harm.
Go and sit on the altar there.”

“The altar!” said Palestra. ‘“ How will the altar
help us any more than the image?”

“Never you mind; sit you down. I will take care
of you.”

The girls did as they were told, and began to

sing : —
8 “Goddess, hark to our cry,

Where thou sittest on high;

From all mischief defend ;

At thy altar we bend;

And excuse us, we pray,

This unseemly array ;
Nor, though squalid our garb, turn away from our prayer,
’Twas Poseidon, thy uncle, that stripped us so bare.”

When they had finished, Deemones, with his men,
came pushing Labrax out of the temple. “ Out with
you, you scoundrel!” he cried.

“You shall suffer for this,” said the slave-dealer,
as soon as he could get his breath.

Dem. “What! You threaten me?”

Labr. “Yes, 1 do. Those two girls are my slaves,
and I’m not going to be robbed of them for
nothing.”

“Slaves!” cried Trachalio, interrupting. “ Your
slaves! Touch one of them with your little finger
and you'll see.”

Labr. “See what?”

Trach. “Why, see that I’ll beat you into a jelly.”
294 . DIPHILUS.

“Tm not going to talk to this gallows’-bird of a
slave,” said Labrax, turning to Demones. “TI. tell
you, these girls are my slaves.”

“And I tell you,” cried Trachalio, “that they are
your betters, real Greek girls, none of your colonists.
One of them, I know, was born at Athens.”

“What do you say?” said Doemones, more inter-
ested than ever, when he heard Athens mentioned.

“T say that this one here,’ and-he pointed to
Paleestra, “was born at Athens of free parents.”

Dem. “What? A countrywoman of mine?”

Trach, “Why, I thought you were a Cyrenean.”

Dem. “No, no. I was born and brought up at
Athens.”

Trach. “Well, then you are > bound to 2 ey your
countrywoman.”

Dem. “Yes, yes. How the girl reminds me of
my dear little daughter: she was three when I lost
her, and she would be just of this girl’s age if she
were alive.”

“This is all nonsense,” said the slave-dealer.~ “ 1
bought these girls with my own money, and I don’t
care a brass farthing whether they were born at
Athens or at Thebes.”

A long dispute followed, things being proushe toa
point by Labrax declaring that if he could not drag
the girls from the altar, he should burn them out.
This was more than Trachalio could stand. ‘“ Look
after them,” he said ‘to. Demones, “and I will run
and tell my master.”
THE, SHIPWRECK. 205.

“Run,” replied the old man; “they shall not
come to any harm.”

When the slave was gone the dispute waxed fierce
again, Labrax declaring that he would carry off his
own property in spite of all the gods of Olympus,
and Demones bidding him lay a finger on either of
them at his peril. It ended by.the old man going
away, and leaving the two slaves in charge. “Stand
here,” he said; “if that fellow touches either of the
girls, or if he offers to go away himself, then use
your sticks to him. Stop till Trachalio and his mas-
ter, Plesidippus, come back; then you can go home.”
They had not to stop long. The two came hurrying
back; talking as they went. “What!” ‘he- cried;
“did the scoundrel try to drag my dear -Palestra
from the altar? Why-did you not kill him at once?”

Trach. “1 did not happen to have a sword handy,

- Ples, “Why not with a club or a stone?”

Trach. “ They would hardly have served.”

Labrax recognized his voice. ‘Good heavens!”
he cried, “here is BPD It’s all over with
me!”’ : :
The next moment the young man rushed into the
court. : :

* Good POCHne said Labrax, as coolly as he
could. ates

“Bother your good morning! You have got to
have a rope round your neck and go before a-magis-
trate.”
206 DIPHILUS.

Labr. “ But what have I done?”

Ples. “What have you done? Why, you took a
deposit for Palestra, and then ran off with her.”

Labr. “1 didn’t run off. I wish I had” (aside).
“Didn't I agree to meet you here? and here I
AM erie

Piles. “Hold your tongue, you villain! Here you
go!” °

And in a trice he had a rope round the fellow’s
neck, and dragged him off, in spite of his protests
and appeals, to which, indeed, no one, not even his
friend Charmides, would listen for a moment. As
soon as he was gone the two girls, and the slaves
who had been set to keep guard over them, went
into the cottage.

Meanwhile, one of the fishermen to whom Trachalio
had spoken, Gripus by name, had drawn up some-
thing in his net that promised to be much more:
valuable than fish —a little travelling trunk, which
was’so heavy that he felt sure it must have some-
thing inside it.

“Tt must be gold,” he said to himself, as he
walked along the shore, dragging his new treasure
after him by a rope. “Gripus, you have got your
chance at last, and you must not lose it. First, I
must buy my freedom; I shall have to be careful
how I manage that. Of course the old man must
know nothing about this, or else he will run up
the price. Well, suppose that is done, and I am
THE SHIPWRECK. 297

free. First, I shall buy an estate. Then I shall
make a great fortune in trade. When I am rich I
shall build a town all for myself. Gripus I shall
call it, and be the first king myself. Yes, Gripus,
a king —nothing less; but just now I wish that
I had something better for breakfast than bread with
a dash of salt, and a draught of master’s very small
beer.”

He had got so far in his day-dreaming, when he
heard some one calling out, “Ho! stop there!” —

“Stop!” he cried, “why should I stop?”

The new-comer was Trachalio, who recognized the
trunk as that which Paleestra had lost.

Trach. “1 should like to help you with the rope.
It’s always a pleasure to help a good fellow.”

Grigus. “Do you know you are very tiresome?”

Trach. “That may be; meanwhile you are not
going away.”

Grip. “But why not?”

Trach. “Because I am going to keep you. Now
listen. I saw a man steal something. I know whom
he stole it from. I go to him and say: ‘Give me
half and I’ll say nothing about it.’ Don’t you think
that I ought to have it?”

Grip. “Yes, indeed; and more. If he won't pay,
tell his master.”

Trach. “Very sods I quite eet’ Now listen.
You are the man.’

Grip, “1?”
298 . DIPHILUS.

Trach. “Yes, you. I know the person to whom
that trunk belongs. I know how it was lost.”

Grip. “Well, I know how it was found; I know
to whom, it belongs now. Don’t think for one
moment that any one will get it.”

Trach, “What! Not its owner?”

Grip. “Tt has got no owner but me, for I caught
en

Trach. “ Caught it?”

Grip. “Yes; just as I catch the fishes. When
I have caught them they are mine. No one claims
them. I sell them as my own in the market.”

After a long argument, at the end of which they
were no nearer agreeing than at the beginning,
Trachalio caught hold-of the other end of-the rope,
and‘ there was very nearly a fight. At last the two
slaves agreed to refer the matter to the arbitration
of Dzemones. ;

Just as they reached the cottage the old man
came out, and they put the case before him. When
Gripus had had his say, claiming the trunk because
he had fished it out of the sea, Trachalio began : —

“The trunk is not mine. I don’t claim it, no; nor
any part of it. But it has got in it the girl’s casket
— her; I mean, who I said was free-born.”

“What!” cried Demones, “do you-mean my
countrywoman ?”’ Se

Trach. “The very same. She had her old toys in
a casket that was in the trunk. They can be of no
THE SHIPWRECK. 299

use to this man, and she can’t find her father and
mother without them.”

Dem. “He shall give them up.”

“Give them up?” said Gripus, “I shall give up
nothing.”

Trach. “J want nothing but the casket and the
toys.”> oe ;

“J dare say,” Gripus replied; ‘but what if they
are gold and silver?”

Trach. “You shall have what they are worth a
weight: gold for gold, silver for silver.”

Grip. “Let me see the gold, and .you shall. see
the casket.”’.

“Hold your tongue,” broke in Demones, getting
out of all patience.. “And you tell me nay what
you want,” he went on to Trachalio..

“Well, the case is this,’ said Trachalio. ° “These
two girls are free by right; the one, Palestra I
mean, was stolen when she was a little child at
Athens, and the proof of it is in that trunk there.”

“T understand,” said Daeemones. “ Now, Palestra,
tell me, is that your trunk?” 3

“Ves, it is,” said the girl ‘And there is a
wooden casket in it, and in the casket the toys which
I had when I was a child: I can describe them all.
If I am wrong, there is nothing more to be said.
If I am right, then pray let me have them back.” .
“So you shall, ”. said Deemones. “That’s simple
right.”
300 DIPHILUS.

“T say it’s simple wrong,” cried Gripus. ‘“ Suppose
she’s a witch, and so knows what to say? Am I to
lose what I found because she’s a witch?”

“Tt’s all nonsense about witches,” said: Dzemones.
“ Open the trunk.”

The trunk was opened, and a casket, which Palzes-
tra at once recognized as hers, was found inside.
Dzemones told her to turn her back and describe its
contents.

“ First,” said the girl, “there is a little gold sword,
with letters on it.”

Dem. ‘What are the letters?”

Pal. “My father’s name. . Next, there is a little
hatchet, also of gold. That has not my father’s name
on it.”

Dem. “But stay. Your father’s name — what
was it?”

Pal, “Demones.”

“Dzemones!”’ cried the old man, astonished.
“Still, that is a common name enough. It might
not be the same. What was your mother’s?”

Pal. “ Deedalis.” ;

Dem. “She must be my daughter. But tell me
what else there is in the casket.”

Pal. “A little sickle in silver, and two hands
clasped, and a necklace which my father gave me
on my birthday.”

Dem. “Ah! so I did. I remember it, and here
it is again, the very thing! It is my own child!
THE SHIPWRECK. 301

Kiss me, my darling! And now come and see
your mother.”

Deemones and his wife had scarcely finished rejoic-
ing over their newly-found child, when young Ple-
sidippus came up, and told his story, and explained
who he was.

“So you fell in love with our little girl,” said
Dzemones, “when you did not know who she was?
Very good; you shall have her.”

“T owe you something for what you have done,”
said Plesidippus to his slave, Trachalio. “I shall
set you free.”

‘A thousand thanks, master!” said Trachalio.
“But there is something else, if I may make so
bold. There is Ampelisca.”

“All right,” said Demones. “TI will buy her of
her owner, and you shall marry her.”

“And what am I to have?” said Gripus. “If
I hadn’t fished up the trunk, where would you all
have been?”

“Of course you will be satisfied with seeing every-
body happy,” said his master.

Poor Gripus’s face fell.

“Cheer up, my man,” cried Dzmones, “ you shall
have your freedom, and something to start in business
with.”
IV. Sh Dee
THE BROTHERS.
[From MENANDER. Translated by TERENCE. }

Tur two brothers Demea and Micio were men of
very different tempers. Micio was an easy-going
person, self-indulgent and good-natured, living an
idle life in the city; Demea was hard-working, fru-
gal, and severe, allowing himself little. pleasure, and
not expecting others, to take it. Demea was mar-
ried, and had two sons, Ctesipho and Aéschinus.
Ctesipho lived at home, and was supposed to emu-
late the virtues of his father ; ZEschinus had been
adopted by his uncle Micio, who treated him with
the utmost indulgence. The old man’s only thought
was to make his nephew love and trust him. ‘Other
young men,” he would say to himself, “keep secrets
from their fathers; I am sure that “éschinus will
never do so, for the simple reason that I never
find fault with him. My brother,’ he went on,
“doesn’t approve of this method, and accuses me of
spoiling the yeung man. He pursues a quite differ-
ent plan with Ctesipho, and, in my judgment, is far
too severe. I am convinced that the obedience that
is rendered for fear is worthless. Take away the

302
THE BROTHERS. 303

restraint and the young: man will show himself in his
true colors.”

It was not long before this theory of education
was put to a severe test.. Demea arrived in a high
state of indignation: “You have heard this. about
fEschinus?” he said.

Micio. “ What has he done?”

Demea. “What has he done? He seems to have
neither shame nor fear. As for law, he supposes
himself to be above it. I am not talking of any old
story now, but of what he has just done.”

._ Mi. “What is that?”

De. “He broke down a man’s door, quashed into
his house, beat the owner and his household almost
to death, and-carried off a woman he was in love
with. Everybody is talking of it. I don’t know
how many mentioned it to me as I came. along.
How different from his brother! There is .a sober,
hard-working fellow. You never find him. doing
anything of this kind! And what I say of A¢schi-
nus, Micio, I say of you; it is you who are ruining
him by your foolish indulgence.” .

Mi. “1 don’t agree with you. There is no real
harm in a young man’s wildness. If you and I never
indulged in such things it was because we were too
poor. If you had any human feeling about you, you
would let your Ctesipho have his fling now while he
is young. If he puts it off till he is old, when he
has buried you, it will be ten times worse,” -
304. MENANDER.

De. “Well, if you are not enough to drive a man
mad! It is no crime forsooth for a young man to
do such things!”

Mi. “Listen to me. Don’t go on hammering in
the same thing over and over again. You allowed
me to adopt your son. He is nowmyown. If he
goes wrong, it is my lookout. If he is extravagant,
I find the money —so long as I choose. He has
broken. in a door; it shall be repaired. He has torn
a man’s coat; it shall be mended. Thank heaven!
I have the wherewithal; and at present I am con-
tent to supply it. Really, when you talk in this way,
you seem to be repenting of having made him over
tome’: .

De. “Well, well; let him be as extravagant as he
pleases; it does not matter tome. But if I ever say
another word —”

Micio, to tell the truth, was somewhat uneasy at
this fresh outbreak on the part of his adopted son.
The young man had promised to reform, and had
even expressed his intention of looking out for a wife
and settling down, and this violent proceeding of his
was a great disappointment. Nor, indeed, was it
long before the severe Demea also began to feel un-
comfortable. A rumour reached him that the model
young man Ctesipho had taken part with A¢schinus
in his scandalous proceedings. He was thinking
where he was likely to find his son when he spied
Micio’s favourite slave, Syrus. “Ah!” he said, “Tl



THE BROTHERS. 305

find out from him. He is one of that rascally crew
indeed, and if he fancies that I am looking for my
son, the scoundrel will. never tell me. I won’t let
him know what I want.” Syrus was busy with some
cooking, and was talking to a fellow-slave, and pre-
tended not to see the new-comer. He was telling,
with much apparent satisfaction, how Micio had
taken the news of AEschinus’s recent exploit. ‘“We
told the old man the whole story of what had hap-
pened. I never saw any one more delighted.’

De. (aside). “Good heavens! what a fool the man
must be!”

Syrus. “He praised his son. He thanked me for
having suggested the scheme. He counted out the
mofiey on the spot,— you know we paid the dealer
what the girl had cost him,—and he’ gave me two
pounds for myself. I shall know how to spend that.”

De. (aside). “Well, that’s a nice fellow to trust
anything to!”

Sy. “Oh! Demea, I did not see you. How are
things going on?”

De. “TY can’t sufficiently admire your way of pro-
ceeding.”

Sy. “Well, it is foolish and unreasonable, to speak
the truth. Dromo, you may clean the other fish,
but let the big conger play in the water. a little
time ; when I come home I will bone him; but don’t
do it before.”

De, “That there should be such wickedness!” »

20
306 . MENANDER.

Sy. “T don’t like it at all. Stephanio, see that
this salt fish is properly soaked.”

De. “Does he really think that it will be to his
credit if he ruins his son? I seea day coming when
the poor wretch will be a beggar .and will have to
enlist.”

Sy. “O Demea, this is true wisdom in you, that
you see not only what is before your eyes, but also
what is coming.” ie

De. “Tell me; is the singing-girl in the house?”

Sy. “ Certainly.”

De. “ And is going to stop there?”

Sy. “Of course; he has married her; the more
fool he!” .

De. “To think that such a thing should be pos-
sible!”

Sy. “Well, his father is foolishly easy with him.”

De. “Oh! as for my brother, I am thoroughly
ashamed and disgusted with him.”

Sy. “Ah! Demea, there is far too much differ-
ence between you. You are nothing but wisdom
from top to toe; he is the most frivolous creature.
You would not allow your son to do such things |”

De. “ Allow him indeed! If he had had a notion
of any such thing, I should have smelt it out six
months ago.”

Sy. “Oh! I know that you keep your eyes open.”

De. “There is no fear of him going wrong.”

Sy. “Yes, yes; a son always is what his father
would like him to be.”
THE BROTHERS. 307

De. “What about him? Have you seen him
to-day?”

Sy. “Your son, you mean?” (Aside) “I'll send
the old fellow off into the country.” (Aloud) “I
think that he had some business in the country.”

De. “You are sure?”

Sy. “Oh, yes; I saw him go myself.”

De. “ Very good; I was afraid he might be hang-
ing about here.”

Sy. “And a pretty rage he was in!”

De. “Why so?”

Sy. “He had a regular quarrel with his brother,
in the market-place, about the singing-girl.”’

De. “You don’t say so!”

Sy. “Ah! but he had, and didn’t spare him. He
came in unexpectedly, just as the money was being
counted out. ‘O Atschinus,’ he cried, ‘to think
that you should do such shameful things, so un-
worthy of our family

De. “Did he speak like that? I could cry for
joy.” |

Sy. “He went on: ‘It is not your own money, it

1°»

+39

is your own self you are losing.

De. “Bless him! He is like those who have gone
before him.”

Sy. “ Hem!”

De. “Syrus, he is stocked with maxims of that
kind.”

Sy. “Ah, yes; he has a teacher at home.”
308 . MENANDER..

De. “TI do my best; I lose no chance.. I actus-
tom him to this kind of thing. I tell him to look
into his neighbours’ lives, as he might into a looking-
glass, and to learn.by others. ‘Do this,’ I say.”

Sy. “Excellent!” —

De. “* Avoid that.’ This is to a man’s credit;
that is set down against him.’

Sy. “Good, good!”

De. “Then I go on—’

Sy. “Excuse me, but I haven’t time. to: listen, I
have got just the fish I wanted, and I must take care
they are not spoilt. It is as much a crime. among us
to do this, as to do the things you talk of among
you; and as far as I can, I instruct my fellow-slaves
in this fashion : ‘ This is too salt,’ I say; ‘that is burnt;
this is not quite clean; that is very good.’ I advise
in this way to the very best of my capacity. In a
word, Demea, I tell them to look into the dishes as
they would into a looking-glass, and tell them what
they ought to do. These are but trifles, Demea,
that we busy ourselves about; but what would you
have? Can I do anything for you?”

De. “T wish you a better.mind; that’s all. How-
ever, I shall go straight to the farm, as my son, on
whose account I came, is there. He is my own, at
all events. Let my brother look to the other.”

But’ Demea had not yet heard all A€éschinus’s
misdemeanours. This young man had actually
broken‘ off his engagement to a girl, poor, indeed,
THE BROTHERS, 309.

but.of good family, in order, as it appeared, to
marry this singing-woman. A friend and kinsman:
of her ‘father, Hegio by name, had taken up. her
cause, and appealed to Demea to help him.. Demea,
now doubly indignant, at once ‘set about finding. his
brother. This, much to his annoyance, he was
unable to“do.: He searched for him all over. the
town, but to no purpose; and while he was so
engaged, he happened to come across a man from
the farm, and heard from him that his son had not
been there. . His wanderings brought. him back to
the point from which he had started, — his brother’s
house ; and he had no choice but to ask the help of
“that scoundrel. Syrus,” as he called him. “My
good fellow,” said he, “is my brother at home?”

Sy. “Good fellow indeed! I am pretty nearly
killed.” ihe g

De. “What is the matter?”

Sy. “That Ctesipho of yours nearly beat me
to death.” eS

‘De. “What do you say?”

Sy. “See there, how he cut my lip!”

De. “Why did he do it?”

Sy. “Because I was the cause, he said, of the
singing-girl having been bought.”

De. “But didn’t you say that he had gone out to
the farrn?”

Sy. “So he did; but he came back in a fury.
He wasn’t ashamed to beat an old man who dandled
him when he was only so big.”
310 MENANDER.

De. “Excellent! excellent! Ctesipho, you take
after your father.”

Sy. “Excellent, you call it!’ Well, he had better
keep his hands off me in future.”

De. “T say that he couldn’t have done better.
He felt, as I do, that you were the prime mover in
the whole affair. But is my brother at home?”

Sy. “No.”

De. “T want to find out where he is.”

Sy. “I know, but I don’t mean to tell you.”

De. “What is that you say?”

Sy. “That I sha’n’t tell you.”

De. “Vil break your head, if you don’t.”

Sy. “Well, I don’t know the man’s name where
he is, but I know the place.”

De. “Tell me the place, then.”

Sy. “Do you know the arcade, and the market
down below?”

De. “Of course I know it.”

Sy. “Go straight up that street. After that, there
is a slope right in front of you. Go down that. On
the left hand there is a chapel, and an alley close:
by.”

De. “Tn which direction?”

Sy. “Where there is a large wild fig-tree. Do
you know it?”

De. “Yes, I know it.”

Sy. “Well, go up the alley.”

De. “ But it isn’t a thoroughfare.”
THE BROTHERS. 311

Sy. “True; well, we all make mistakes. Go back
to the colonnade. There is a much nearer way. Do
you know the house of the rich Cratinus ?”

De- “Yes.”

Sy. “When you reach that, go up the street to
the left. When you come to Diana’s temple, turn
to the right. Before you come to the gate, there is
a mill by the pond, and a workshop exactly opposite.
He is there.”

De. “What is he doing?”

Sy. “He is having some couches made.”

De. “For you to lie on and drink, I suppose.” —

Sy. (when Demea is out of hearing). “Go, you
old skeleton! I’ll give you a nice little walk. And
now, I think, I may take a little something to drink.”

Syrus did take the little “something,” and the
consequence was that when Demea came back,
fuming after his fruitless walk, for of course he did
not find his brother, and even the shop was imag-
inary, he was not able to cope with the situation.
“What annoys you?” he asked, when he saw the old
man.

De. “Oh, you scoundrel!”

Sy. “Ah, old wisdom overflowing again!”

De. “Oh, if you belonged to me!”

Sy. “You would be a rich man. I should have
set your affairs on a sound footing.”

De. “I would make an example of you.”

Sy. “Why, what have I done?”
312. - MENANDER.

De. “Why, not to mention anything else —in-all
this confusion you have been drinking as if every-
thing was all right.”

At this moment one of Syrus’s fellow-slaves called
‘out to him from within, “ Syrus, Ctesipho wants you!”

De. (catching the name): “Who is talking of Ctesi-
pho?’ - pene ;

Sy. “Tt is nothing.”

De. “You scoundrel! is Ctesipho here?”

Sy. “Certainly not.”

De, “Then why did I hear his name?”

Sy. “Oh, that was quite another person, one of
Micio’s hangers-on. You must know him.”

De. “Well, V'll find out.”

Sy. (catching hold of the old man). “What are you
about? Where are you going? eB

De. “Let me go.”

~ Sy. “I won't.”

De. “Vl break your head, if you don’t.”

So saying, he broke loose from the slave’s grasp.
“Ah!” said Syrus, “he will not be a welcome addi-
tion to their little party.”

The fact was, that it was for Ctesipho that Eschi-
nus had carried off the singing-girl; it was the steady
Ctesipho, as his father thought him, that had made
this not very reputable marriage; and now, after
being put off more than once, the old man had found
it out. Things, being at their darkest, now began to
lighten. A‘schinus was, it turned out, perfectly ready
THE BROTHERS. 313

to fulfil the engagement which. he was thought to
have broken off; and Micio was willing to start his
other’ nephew in life with a handsome. present: of
money. Demea, finding that amiability:and com-
plaisance were the order of the day, determined to
fashion his own behaviour accordingly, though he
slyly contrived to make his - good-natured: brother
bear the burden of the general benevolence. Syrus
was to receive his liberty as an encouragement. to
honest servants ; Hegio, who had taken up the cause
of Aéschinus’s neglected bride, was to have his pov-
erty relieved by the present of a little farm. Finally,
the young lady’s mother was to be provided for, arid
in view of this object, what could be a more con-
venient fact than that Micio was a bachelor?
“ Brother,” said Demea, “there is your daughter-in-
law’s mother, a very reputable lady.”

Mi. “So I am told.”

De. “A little advanced in years, and a lone
woman.” :

Mi. (aside). “What is the man after?”

De. “Don’t you think that you ought to marry
her?”

‘Mt. “T marry when I am sixty-five years old, and
marry an old woman! Is that what you want?”

Eschinus. “Oh, do, father! In fact, I have prom-
ised you would.”

Mi. “You have promised I would! . Keep your
breath to cool your own porridge, my son,”
314 MENANDER.

De. “Now, do it.”

“sch. “Don’t make any trouble about it,”

Mi. “Well, it is absurd; it is quite contrary to all
that I have ever done and said. Still, if you are so
anxious for it, I will.” :

Then Demea explained himself. “I wanted to
show you, Micio,” he said, “that all your easiness
and good-nature did not come from true kindness,
but from a lazy habit of giving way to others. If
you, A#schinus, persist in disliking me because I do
not choose to approve of everything that you do, be
it good or bad, let it be so; go your way, you and
your brother, waste and spoil as much as you please.
But if you think that after all it would be well that,
where you, in your youth and inexperience, fail to
see clearly, and are ready to buy your pleasures too
dearly, I should step in, advising and criticising,
while not failing to give way on proper occasions, I
am at your service.”

“You are right,” said AEschinus; “ you know far
better than we do what ought to be done. And how
about my brother?”

“T forgive him,” replied Demea. “Now that he
is married, he will, I hope, behave himself respect-
ably.”
V.

THE GIRL OF ANDROS.
[From MENANDER. Adapted by TERENCE. ]

Terence tells us himself that he had used two comedies of Menander
in constructing this play, and that he had been blamed for so doing
by some critics. The two seem to have borne the titles of dudria
(the girl of Andros) and Perizéhia (the girl of Perinthos). An early
commentator informs-us that it is the first part of the play that is bor-
rowed from the Andria.

Simo, an Athenian citizen, happening to be present
at the funeral of a lady with whom he had had
a slight acquaintance, witnessed a spectacle which
caused him no little anxiety. Among the women
who were attending as mourners was a young girl
of singular beauty. This, and the manifest depth
and sincerity of her grief, so excited the old man’s
interest that he inquired who she was, and was told
in reply that she was a sister of the deceased. The
corpse was placed on the funeral pile, and this was
lighted in due course. When the flames were at
their fiercest, the young girl rushed forward, as if
intending to throw herself into them. So near did
she come that she seriously imperilled her own life,
which, indeed, would probably have been sacrificed,
had her clothes caught fire. At this point, Simo saw

315
316 MENANDER.

a young man, in whom he recognized his own son
Pamphilus, run out from among the crowd of spec-
- tators and catch the girl round the-waist. The next
moment he heard him remonstrating with her. “My
dear Glycerium,” — these were his words, — “what
are you doing? why do you try to kill yourself?”
The girl turned at. the sound of his voice, and fell.
into his arms in a passion of tears. It was evident,
Simo thought to himself, that this was not. ‘the first
time that they had met. And all.the time. Pamphilus
was betrothed to Philumena, the daughter of an old
friend, Chremes by name. It was a desirable match
in every way, and Simo was greatly troubled at the
thought that it might be broken off.

This indeed seemed not unlikely to happen:
Others besides Simo had witnessed the scene at the
funeral, and one of them had carried the report to
Chremes, Philumena’s father, with the result that he
came in a great rage to his friend, and declared that
he should not think of allowing his daughter to
become the wife of a young man whose affections
were evidently bestowed elsewhere, and who, indeed,
was possibly married already. - :

Simo now resolved, by way of bringing” matters 'to
a crisis, to tell his son that the marriage ‘with Philu-
mena was to take place that very day. If the young
man made no objection, all was ‘well. -The foolish
engagement to the girl seen at the funeral would be
broken off, and it would not be difficult to indtice
THE GIRL, OF ANDROS. : 317

Chremes to withdraw his objections... Simo’s freed- .
man. Sosia was charged with the duty of announcing
to Pamphilus the arrangements for his..marriage.
This he proceeded to do, and his report to -his patron
was that the young man made no objection, but that
he and his confidential slave Davus were evidently
disturbed.

Before long Davus made his appenranceln He was
talking to himself, unaware, it was evident, of his
amaster’s presence. _

Davus.. “1 wondered what was. neoing, to happen
The master’s good humour was suspicious. The
match broken off and not an angry word to any
one! It was too good.”

Simo (aside). eNNel you'll hear plenty of angry
words soon, my: man.’

Da. “We -were to think it all blown over; ond
then he would spring this upon us. The. cunning
old fellow!”

Si. (not hearing). “What does he say?”

_. Da. “Good heavens! there is the master, and I
never saw him!”

Sz. “Davus!”

“Da; Yes, sir |.’

Sz. “I am told that my son has made a foolish
engagement.” ’

Da. “People will talk, sit.’

Si. “A young man so situated would not like
marrying the wife his father had chosen for him.”
318 ou MENANDER.

Da. “It is possible, sir.”

Si. “He might have had advisers who would en-
courage him in this feeling.”

Da. “JT don’t understand.”

Sz. “Not understand?”

Da. “No, sir; I am Davus, not CEdipus.” !

Si. “Then you want me to speak plainly?”

Da. “Tf you please, sir.”

Si. “Listen, then; if you try any tricks to hinder
this match, you will be well flogged and sent to the
treadmill till you die. Is that plain enough?”

Da. “Certainly, sir.”

Si. “Well, don’t say that you have not been
warned.”

But there was another complication. Though
Pamphilus had no thought of Philumena, his friend
Charinus was deeply in love with her, and the news
of the intended wedding struck him with despair.
He hurried, on hearing of it from his slave Byrrhia,
to see whether anything could be done. “O Pam-
philus,” he cried, as soon as he saw his friend, “are
you going to be married to-day?”

Pamphilus. “So they say.”

Charinus. “Then you have seen the last of me.”

Pam. “Why so?” |

Char. “I am ashamed to say.” (Zurning to his
slave) “Tell him, Byrrhia.”

Byrrhia. “The truth is, my master is in love with
your betrothed.”

1 Gdipus — famous as having guessed the riddle of the Sphinx.
THE GIRL OF ANDROS. 319

Pam, “That is.more than I am.”

Char. “1 beseech you not to marry her.”

Pam. “T will do my best.”

Char. “Tf you can’t help yourself, or if, after all,
you really wish to marry her, at least give me a few
days to get out of the way, so that I may not see it.”

Pam. “My good fellow, I don’t want to make any
merit of it, but it is the simple truth that I hate the
idea of the marriage quite as much as you do. Do
all you can to get the girl, and I will help you. But
here comes my clever Davus; he is the man to
advise us.”

Char. “Ishe? This fellow Byrrhia is no use at
all.”

Davus had good news to tell. The marriage was
all an invention. “I suspected something of the
kind,” he said, “and went to Chremes’s house. There
wasn’t a sign of anything festive. No one was
going in or out. There were no signs of prepara-
tion. Then I met his man as he was going away.
He had a few vegetables and half a dozen anchovies
for the old man’s supper. That did not look like a
wedding.”

Char. “Excellent! excellent!”

Da. “But, my good sir, it does not follow that
you will get the young lady because she is not to be
married to Pamphilus here to-day. Bestir yourself,
or you will lose her as sure as fate.”

Charinus promptly departed to take counsel with
.320 MENANDER.

his friends. This was what Davus wanted. “ And
now, sir,” he said to his master, as soon as the young
man had disappeared, “I should recommend you to
go to your father, and say that you have no longer
any objection. If you don’t, he will find some way
of doing a mischief to Glycerium, — will get her
banished from Athens, it may be, for he has interest
with the government. Don’t be afraid of any-
thing happening. Whatever-your father may wish,
Chremes is quite resolved that you sha’n’t marry his
daughter.” Pamphilus was persuaded, and, meeting
his father soon afterwards, let him know that he was
ready to fulfil the engagement. As luck would have
it, he was overheard by Byrrhia, who had been’
strictly charged by his master, Charinus, to watch
the movements of the bridegroom. Byrrhia went
off to tell the news, Davus meanwhile making Simo
uncomfortable by representing that he wasn’t treat-
ing his son very well in the matter. “You keep
your purse too close, sir,” he said, “ for a father who
is going to marry his son. That’s what he feels,
Why, he can’t even ask his friends to the wedding.”
Simo now conceived the happy idea of turning the
feint into a reality. The marriage which he invented
to test his son’s feeling might actually take place.
Only he must persuade Chremes to withdraw his
veto. This he set about doing. The alliance had
been a cherished scheme with both of them for.
many years. The young man and the girl had been
THE GIRL OF ANDROS. 321

intended for man and wife ever since they lay in
their cradles. Simo implored his old friend to give
way. For a time Chremes stoutly refused. The
young man had set his affections elsewhere, and the
marriage would turn out badly. This argument
Simo answered by an assurance that the old engage-
ment was at an end. Pamphilus and Glycerium had
quarrelled; so Davus, his son’s confidential slave,
assured him. ‘Overborne by his old friend’s en-
treaties, Chremes gave way, and consented that the
marriage should take place. Davus, who happened
to be passing, was summoned to hear the good news.
“ Davus,” said Simo, “‘ I have had hard work. to per-
suade my friend Chremes, but he consents. _Pamphi-
lus is to matry Philumena.”
Da. “We are all undone.”
‘Sz. “ What did you say?”
' Da. “I'said that it was well done of you.”

Si. “Now, Davus, I feel that this marriage is
really your work. Pray do your best to keep my
son straight; and if he is a little discontented just
at first, do represent things in the best light.”

“Here is a pretty state of things!” said the un-
lucky slave to himself. “I have cheated my old
master, entrapped my young one into a marriage
that he hates, and all because I would be so clever!
I am simply ruined. I only wish there was a preci:
pice here for me to throw myself down.”

Things were indeed come to a terrible pass. . The

21
322 MENANDER.

fact was that Pamphilus had been really married to
Glycerium for nearly a year, and what was more,
that very day his wife had borne him a son. And
here he was in a fearful strait. His wife crying out
to see him, for somehow she had heard of the new
marriage; his friend Charinus furious at being, as
he thought, deceived; and the preparations for a
second wedding going actively on!

Davus, who had had a great deal to do with bring-
ing about this state of things, now came to the
rescue. He got hold of the new-born baby, and
persuaded Mysis, Glycerium’s nurse, to lay it down
in front of his master’s door. “Why don’t you do it
yourself?” said the woman. “ Because,” he replied,
“I may have to swear that I didn’t do it.” Just as
this had been done, Chremes arrived. ‘He had been
making preparations for the marriage, and was now
come to invite the bridegroom’s friends. “ But what
is this?” he cried, seeing a bundle on the threshold.
“On my life, it is a child! Woman,” he went on,
turning to the nurse, “did you put it here?”

The woman was too much flustered to answer, but
looked round for Davus, who had disappeared as
soon as he caught sight of Chremes. But when
Davus returned he promptly denied all knowledge of
the matter, and pretended to know. as little where the
child came from as did Chremes himself. “ Whose
child is it?” he said to the nurse in a threatening
voice,
THE GIRL OF ANDROS. 323

- Ihe Nurse. “You mean to say you don’t know?”

Da. “ Never mind whether I know or not; answer
_ my question.”

Nurse. “Why, it is the child of your own—” .

Da.“ My own what?”

Nurse. “Your own master Pamphilus.”

- Da. “Oh! I daresay. I know where it came from.
Take the brat away, or it will be the worse for you.”

Nurse. “Ts the man sober?”

: Da. “The next thing will be that we shall be told
that the mother is Athenian born.”

Chremes. “ A pretty mess I have nearly been get-
ting into!”

Da. (pretending to become aware of his presence).
‘“‘O Chremes! you here? What ought to be done to
this wicked woman?”

Chr. “I know the whole story. Is Simo at home?”

. Saying this, he entered the house. As soon as he
was out of sight Davus explained his action to the
nurse. “Don’t you understand,” he said, “that this
is Philumena’s father? This was the only way of
frightening him off the new marriage.”

Chremes meanwhile had finally broken off the
match. “I was willing,” he said, “to do the best I
could for your son. I risked my daughter’s happi-
ness on the chance; but knowing what I know, I
can’t go on. The young man has another attach-
ment, and I hear, too, that the woman is a native
Athenian. Consider the other affair is at an end.”
gone |. MENANDER, ©

~ Davus now made his appearance. The news he .

had to communicate brought Simo, already furious
with disappointment, to something like ‘madness:
“A stranger,” said the slave, ‘has just-:come, a
most respectable looking ‘nian, * who declares that
Glycerium is a free-born Athenian woman,’

Simo deigned to make no- answer. “ Dromo,” he
said to another. of his slaves, “carry this’ scoundrel
off to prison. He shall learn not to play tricks on
his’ master; aye, and I have something to say to
Master Pamphilus himself.” In vain did Chremés °
remonstrate. The old man was quite beside himself
‘with passion, and the unlucky Davus was Hirricd off
to: punishment. . “

Pamphilus was the next to come in far a share of
the old man’s wrath. To a certain extent’ he con-
trived to turn it away by a soft answer. “At léast
Simo was persuaded to hear what the stranger. had
to say about the parentage of Glycerium. At first,
the interview seemed to promise little good. . Simo
roundly accused the stranger, whose name, by the'way,
was Crito, of having invented the whole story, in the
interests of Pamphilus. Thus challenged, Crito spoke
out, and told the whole story; not, however, without
being interrupted by exclamations of incredulity from
the angry old man. “Some years ago,” he said, “an
Athenian citizen was shipwrecked near Andros, but
managed to escape to land. He had with him a
little girl, the same person, I have discovered, as the

THE GIRL OF ANDROS. 325

Glycerium of whom I have been told since my arrival
at Athens. Both were received in the house of a
relative of my own, from whom indeed I heard the
story. There the man died; the girl was always
regarded as a daughter of my kinsman.”

“What was the name of this Athenian?” asked
Chremes. .

Crito. “ Phania.”’

Chr. “Good heavens!”

Cri. “At least I think it was, Chremes. I know
he was a native of Rhamnus.”
~ Chr. “Did he say that the girl-was his daughter?”

Cri. “No; he said she was his niece, his: brother’s
daughter.” ch

Chr. “Phania was my brother. I left-him in
charge of my child. War broke out, and he followed
me te Asia, and I now learn was shipwrecked on the
way.”

All was-now happily settled. Pamphilus brought’
his wife and child home with the full consent of his
relatives, receiving at the same time a substantial
portion from his newly-found father-in-law. At the:
same. time, the faithful Charinus was rewarded with
the hand of Philumena.
VI.
; PHORMIO.
[from ApoLLopoRUS. Translated by TERENCE. ]

DemipHo and Chremes were brothers, respectable
and well-to-do citizens of Athens. Both had occa-
sion to leave their homes on business at the same
time, Demipho going to Cilicia, where a friend had
promised to find a profitable investment for him,
Chremes to Lemnos, where his wife Nausistrata had
a property, the rents of which he was accustomed to
collect. Each brother had an only son; and both of
the young men took the opportunity of their fathers’
absence to get into formidable scrapes.

Chremes’s son Phezedria fell violently in love with
a music-girl. Really she was a free-born Athenian,
but she was supposed to be a slave, the property of
a villainous dealer, Dorio by name, who refused to
sell her for less than a hundred and twenty pounds.
Phzedria, who was bent on buying the girl and mak-
ing her his wife,1 obtained the man’s promise that
if he could find the money, she should not be sold
to any one else. For the present, however, he was

1 This would have been something like a morganatic marriage. As
a matter of fact, the girl being of Athenian birth, the marriage would
have been perfectly regular.

326
PHORMIO, . 327

penniless. All that he could do was to wait ata
- barber’s shop which happened to be opposite the
music-school where she was receiving lessons, and
accompany her to her owner’s house.. One day, as
he was looking out for her, his cousin Antipho being
with him, a young man of their acquaintance came
up, who had a story so piteous to tell that it moved
him to tears as hespoke. ‘I have just had a proof,”
he said, “ what a terrible thing poverty is. Hard by
here I saw a girl mourning for her mother, who had
just died. The corpse was laid out opposite the door
of the house, and the poor creature had no kinsman,
or friend, or acquaintance with her except one old
woman; a very beautiful girl she was, too.” They
were all touched by the story, and Antipho said at
once, “Shall we go and see her?”—“ Good,” said
Pheedria, “let us go; take us to the house.” They
went, and found that the girl, whose name was Pha-
nium, was certainly beautiful. There was nothing
to set her off; her hair was dishevelled, her feet bare,
her clothing of the meanest. Phzedria, his head full
of the music-girl, said nothing more than, “She is
pretty enough,” but with Antipho it was love at first
sight. The next day he paid another visit. The
girl he did not see, but the old woman, who turned
out to be her nurse, told him that she was a free-
born Athenian, of good family. Antipho at once
made up his mind-to have her for his wife. But
how was it to be managed? He was afraid to do
328 APOLLODORUS.

such a thing in his father’s’ absence, and. yet ‘he
knew perfectly well that, were his. father:at home,
he would never consent, for the-girl of course -had not

a penny. of dowry. He confided his difficulty to-an

-acquaintance, Phormio:by name, a man without either
occupation or means, who contrived to pick up a
living: by -his’ wits... Phormio‘at’.once: contrived .an
audacious scheme. ..““The law directs,” he told An-
tipho, “that ‘when -a. citizen -dies, leaving an orphan
daughter, the next.of kin must marry: her, or provide
her with a dowry.- I will pretend to her father, and-will bring a suit. against you. We
will go into court. - There‘I will invent.a name for
her father, a name for -her mother, and her ‘elation:
ship to you. Of course you will offer no defence; and
I shall win the suit.” -This was actually done; the
suit was brought, Antipho -was ordered by the court
to -marry the. girl, and, as may oe ee —
obeyed. © | ~ ~

. From what has bea said, it will ihe evident that both
the young men were. in no small trouble; Phzedria
was afraid that his lady-love might be sold before he
could find the money, of which indeed he saw. little
prospect; Antipho dreaded his father’s return. - The
two were discussing the situation, when Geta, a con-
fidential slave in whose charge the young men had
been left, made his. appearance in a state of great
agitation. “ Yourfather has arrived,” he cried, when
he caught sight of. Antipho; “I saw him at the har-

PHORMIO, .. 329

pour.” Antipho was in despair. .His. cousin and:
Geta. implored him to screw up his courage. to the
point of meeting his. father. . “Your. only chance,”
they told him, “is to put a ‘bold ‘face. on it.” - Anti-
‘pho-made an effort to pluck. up. his spirit. ‘ Brazen
it out,” said Geta, “that you were compelled by the
court to contract:the marriage. Do you understand?
But who is that there?” he went on, looking down
the street that led to the Pirzeus. “It is he!” cried
Antipho, following the direction of Geta’s eyes. “It
is my father himself. I can't stand it.. I am. off.”
And in spite of all remonstrances, he disappeared.
‘In a few minutes Demipho made his: appearance.
He was in a towering rage. ‘So Antipho has mar-
ried without my leave! What audacity! And Geta,
too! a pretty counsellor, indeed ! Of course I know
what he'll say, ‘I did it against my will; the law
compelled me.’ Ah! but did ‘the law compel.you to
give up the case without a word?”

Phedria (aside). “ That's a poser!”

Geta (aside). “Vl answer him: Trust me.”

- Demipho. “I am so annoyed that I can’t .bring

my mind to consider what's to be done. . It is always
the way. When everything seems to be going well,
then we must look out for trouble. “A son goes
wrong, a wife dies, a daughter falls ill. These are
the things we must expect. Anything that. doesn’t
happen one must count as clear gain.’”.

Ge. (aside). “ See, Pheedria, how much wiser I
330 APOLLODORUS.

am than my master. I thought of all I should have
to put up with when my master came back, — work
at the mill, a good beating, my feet in the stocks, set
to work at the farm; there is nothing that I haven’t
reckoned on. And whatever doesn’t happen that
I shall count as clear gain. But, Pheedria, why
don’t you go forward and speak to him?”

Phe. (advancing). “How do you do, my dear
uncle?”

Dem. “How do you do? But where is Antipho?”

Phe. “Tam delighted —”

Dem. “Where is he?” 4 48 :

Phe. “At home and quite well. I hope that all
is right.” 3

Dem. “Right indeed! A Peete) match you made
up between you while I was away.”

Phe. “But surely you are not angry with him.”

Dem. “Very angry indeed, and I'll let him know
it, when I see him.”

Phe. “But he has given you no cause.”

Dem. “Oh! yes; you are all tarred with the same
brush. He gets into mischief, and you stand by
him.”

Phe. “My dear uncle, if Antipho had done wrong,
if he had wasted his money, or lost his character, I
should not say a word against his suffering for it.
But if a designing fellow plotted against his youth
and innocence and got the better of him, who was
to blame, he or the judges? They, as you know,
PHORMIO. 331

are always jealous of the rich, and in favour of the
poor.”

Ge. (aside). ae Upon my word, if I didn’t know
the facts, I should think he was speaking the truth. Mi

Dem. “But what was a judge to do when the
defendant doesn’t say a word?”

Phe. “Your son could not say what he had pre-
pared. His modesty struck him absolutely dumb.”

Ge. (advancing). ‘Very glad to see you, master!”

Dem. “You scoundrel! you who 1 were to take care
of my house!”

Ge. “Now, this is unjust. A slave is not allowed
to plead, or give evidence.” ea

* Dem. “That is all very well, But he was not

compelled to marry the girl. Why did he not pay
the dowry, and. let her find another husband ?”

Ge. “But where was the money to come from?”

Dem: “He might have found it somewhere.”

Ge. “Where? It’s easy enough to say."

Dem. “He might have borrowed it.”

Ge. “That is good. Who would have lent it while
his father was alive?”

> Dem. “ Anyhow, I won’t allow the marriage to
stand, no, not fora day. But where is that fellow?”

Ge. “You mean Phormio?”

Dem. “Yes, the woman’s advocate.”

Ge. “Oh! he’ll be here soon, I warrant.”

Dem. “Well, tell Antipho I want to see him. I
shall look up some friends, and have it out with this
fellow Phormio.”
332 APOLLODORUS.

Geta lost no time in finding Phormio, and telling
him of the old man’s fury. The adventurer was
very little concerned at the prospect. ‘I have noth-
ing to lose,” he said. “Suppose he gets a verdict
against me,.and puts me in prison. Well, he’ll have
to keep me, and I have an excellent appetite.”

is Be said Geta, “he’s. coming, and ‘in .a..fine
rage.” ;

Phormio (to. Gave but peailay loud that. Demise,
who has come.in with his friends, may. hear him).
“ And he positively asserts that Phanium is not a
relative!) ..

Ge. “He does.” S ie etyies say

Dem. (to his friends). “1 do believe that he. is
talking about me. Come a little nearer.”

Phor..“ And that he does not know wae her
father was?”

Ge. “ Just so.’

Phor. “.Because the poor girl was left without
money, her father is forgotten and she herself neg-
lected. See what the love of money does!”

Ge. (who pretends to be indignant). “Don’t abusé
my master, or it will be the worse for you.”

Dem. (aside). “Why, the fellow is aoe abus-
ing me!”

Phor. “1 have nothing to say against the young
man for not knowing my old friend. He was an
elderly man, always busy, and seldom coming to
town. He rented a farm of my father. He used
- PHORMIO. : : 333

to tell me, I remember: that his kinsman Demipho
took no notice of him. But what a man he was!
The very best fellow I ever saw!”’

‘Dem. (advancing). “Young man, Thave just a:ques-
tion to ask’ you. . Tell me who this friend of yours
was, and how he was related to me.” we

- Phor. “ Asif you didn’t know!”
Dem. “TI know!”
Phor. “Of course you know.”

- Dem. “¥ declare that I don’t.” ~

Phor. “Not know the name of your own cousin?”

Dem. “Tell me yourself.” -

_ Phor. (im a@ WED to Geta). “I Have: forgotten:

What was it?”

Ge. (in a whisper). “ Stilpho.”
Phor, “Well, if I must tell you, it was: Stilpho.”

Dem. “What did you say?”

Phor. “Stilpho; do-you know the name! eee

Dem. “1 never heard of the an, and certainly
never had any relative of the name.’

Phor. “Butif hehad left three thousand pounds—”

Dem. “Confound you!”

Phor. “T warrant you would have had is whole
pedigree at your fingers’ ends.” m3

Dem, “ Bat yon haven’t told me how the girl was
related to me.’
Phor. “\explained the matter quite satisfactorily
to the right persons, that is, the judges. * If it was
not true; why did not your son disprove it?”
‘

334 APOLLODORUS.

Dem. “My son, indeed! the poor fool!”

Phor. “Very good; if you are so wise, go to the
court, and ask for another trial. You are master
here; and though no one else can have a cause tried
twice over, you must have your own way.”

Dem. “Well, I know that I’ve been cheated.
Still, to save trouble, I will suppose that the girl is
related tome. Take her away, and I’ll pay twenty
pounds.”

Phor. “ A pretty story, indeed! A girl is married,
and you propose to give her a paltry sum of money,
and send her away!”

Dem. “Well, Vll manage it somehow, and not
rest till I have.”

Phor. “ Demipho, I have nothing to do with you.
It is your son aE is concerned, not you. You are
too old to marry.”

Dem. “JT shall turn him out of my neuse! if he
objects.”

Phor. “My dear sir, would it not be better to put
up with what can’t be undone? Let us be friends.”

Dem. “Friends! As if I wanted to be friends
with you!” .

Phor. “ Make it up with her, and she’ll be such a
comfort to your old age. Remember your years, my
dear sir.”

Dem. “ She may comfort you; J don’t want her.”

Phor. “Don’t be angry!”

Dem. “Enough of this! Except you take the
PHORMIO. 338

woman away immediately, I’ll turn her out of doors.
That is my last word, Phormio.”

Phor. “Lay a finger on her, and Pll have you up
’ before the court. That is my last word, Demipho.”

The old gentleman now proceeded to ask his
friends what they thought about the matter. The
first thought that what had been done in Demipho’s
absence might be considered null and void; the
second that a legal decision once given could not
be invalidated; the third suggested that the matter
should be postponed. Demipho was no wiser than
before, and. resolved to refer the matter to his
brother, who was hourly expected to return.
_ Meanwhile Pheedria’s love affair had gone wrong.

The music-girl’s owner had received a good offer for
her, and declared that hé should accept it. “You,”
he said, brutally, to the young man, “are all tears
and no money. I have found some one who is all
money and no tears. You must give way to your
better.” Nothing could persuade him. “Pay the
money to-morrow, or she’ll be sold,” was his last
word as he turned away. Pheedria was in despair;
without the girl, he felt life was not worth living.
The only scrap of comfort he got was that Geta
declared that, by hook or by crook, he would get the
money for him.

While this was going on, Chremes had returned
from Lemnos. It must be here explained that, some
years before, he had contracted a secret marriage in
336 APOLLODORUS.

that place,,and had had a daughter born to him.
His brother knew all about it, and it: had been
arranged bétween the two that Antipho . should
matry his unknown cousin. Chremes had intended
to bring the girl home on the present occasion, but
found that she and her mother had disappeared.
They had gone to Athens, so he heard from their
neighbours, to look for him. This was disturbing
news, and it was met by the equally unwelcome
intelligence which Demipho had to communicate, that
the intended bridegroom had made another match.

While they were considering what should be done,
Geta approached. He had been talking, he said,
with Phormio, and that ingenious adventurer had
devised a scheme which would get rid of the diffi-
culty and at the same time be of advantage to him-
self. “I long wanted” — this was the substance of
Phormio’s words, as the slave reported them — “ to
marry the daughter of my old friend. I saw how
unsuitable it would be that a penniless girl should
enter a wealthy house such as your master’s. But
-to tell you the truth, I wanted a wife who would
bring me something to set me free from ‘sundry
difficulties. I have my eye upon a girl who would
suit’me; but if Demipho will make it worth my
while, I will throw her over and marry Phanium. I
- have mortgaged” ‘a little property that I have for fifty
pounds.”

At this point “Denise broke in impatiently:
PHORMIO. 337.

“Well, I don’t mind so much. I will give him ime
fifty pounds.”

Geta went on with his report: ‘Then I have a
house mortgaged for so much more.”

Dem. “That is too much.”

Chremes. “Hush! He may look to me for this
fifty.”

Geta continued: “ My wife must have a maid. I
shall want a little more furniture. Then the mar-
“riage expenses will be something. . Suppose we say
fifty pounds more.” —

Dem. “The scoundrel! Let him do his worst!”
- Chr. “Do be quiet. If only Antipho marries the
girl that you and I mean for him, it will be well.
I’ll pay this fifty, too. Happily I have some money of
my wife’s in hand. I'll tell her that you wanted it.” _

Unluckily Antipho had overheard the dialogue,
and was furious at the thought that he was to be
robbed of his wife. No sooner had the old gentle-
man disappeared than he rushed at Geta, and struck
him. The slave had no little difficulty in pacifying
him. “It’s only a scheme for getting the old men’s
money,” he said. “The marriage will never come
off; of that you may rest assured.” With this assur-
‘ance Antipho had to be content.

While this was going on a mutual recognition had
taken place. Phanium’s nurse, Sophrona, had heard
of Demipho’s indignation at his son’s marriage with
her charge, and was terribly alarmed at the prospect
338 APOLLODORUS.

of trouble that seemed in store for the young bride,
Her only hope was in finding the missing father.
At this moment she heard her own name softly

called. It was Chremes. ‘“ Look at me,” he said.
Sophrona. “Is that Stilpho?”
~ Chr. “No.”

Soph. “You deny it?”

Chr. “Come away ; never call me by that: name
again.”

Soph, “What? are you not what you always said
you were?”

Chr, “Hush!”

Soph, “Why do you look. at that or “What
are you afraid of ?”

Chr. “J have an angry wife inside there. I called
myself ea pEe. over at Lemnos, lest the affair should
_reach her -ears.’

’ Soph. “And so that’s the reason why we could
never find you.”

Chr. “Where are they?”

‘Soph. “Your daughter is alive: Her mother died
a-little time ago.”

Chr. ‘That is a bad job.” TP aad 3

Soph. “What was I to do?. I had nothing; no-
body knew me; I married. your daughter to the
young man who is master of the house there.”

Chr. “What? to Antipho?” -
” Soph. “Yes—his name is Antipho.”

Chr. “Has the fellow two wives, then?”
PHORMIO. 330

Soph. “No; certainly not.”

Chr. “What about the other — the cousin, then?”

Soph. “Why, it’s the same person. ‘That is your
daughter Phanium.”

Chr. “Heaven be thanked! That’s exactly what
I wanted, and it has all come to pass without my '
doing anything.”

Demipho had by this time paid the money agreed
upon to Phormio. The arrangement only half pleased
him. ‘We encourage these fellows to be scoundrels
by our easiness,” he said. Still, he could only hope,
the best. The next thing he had to do was to
persuade Chremes’s wife Nausistrata to undertake
the unpleasant task of breaking the thing to Anti-
pho’s young wife. She had already helped him
more than once, and this would be another act of
kindness.

“You are very welcome,” replied Nausistrata; ‘I
only wish I could have done more, but my husband
is a very poor man of business. He does not manage
things as my father did. He used to get nearly five
hundred pounds out of the property, and that when
prices were much lower than they are now.”

“ Five hundred pounds!” said Demipho.

“Yes,” said Nausistrata, “I only wish that I had
been born a man. I would show them.”

As she spoke she saw Chremes, who was, of
course, greatly excited by the identification of hfs
missing daughter with the orphan girl whom Antipho
had married.
340 APOLLODORUS.

“Have you paid the money?” he asked his
- brother.

Dem. “Yes, I have.”

Chr. “I wish that you had not. Ah! there is

Nausistrata.”

Dem. “ But why not?”

Chr. “It’s all right.”

Dem. “How about the girl?”

Chr. “She can’t be sentaway. The young people
love each other too much.”

Dem. “But what does that matter to us?”

Chr. “Very much. She is a relative, after all.
There was a mistake about the father’s name.”

Dem. “What? she did not know her own father?”

Chr. “Oh! she knew it.”

Dem. “Then why did she say something else? rs
Chr. “Don’t you understand? You are ruining
me.” .

Nausistrata, “What is it all about?”

Dem. “Tam sure I don’t know.”

Chr. “If you must know, as I am alive, she has
no nearer relatives than you and me.”

Dem. “Good heavens! Let us go and see her.
We all ought to know whether this is true or not.”

Chr. “Stop! stop!”

Dem. “Well, what is to be done about our friend’s
daughter?” !

1 By “our friend’s daughter,” Chremes’s own daughter is meant.
Nausistrata was not to know who was meant. .
PHORMIO. 341

Chr. “ All right.”

Dem. ‘We are to drop her?”

Chr. “Yes.”

Dem. “And the other girl is to stop?”

Chr. “ Certainly.”

Naus. “I think that would be best, for she seemed
a very ladylike young person, when I saw her.”

So saying, Nausistrata disappeared into the house.
Chremes made sure that the door was shut, and then
turning to his brother, exclaimed: “It is an interpo- |
sition of Providence; Antipho’s wife is my daughter
Phanium.”

Geta had contrived to overhear what had been going
on, and was not long in telling the news to Antipho.
The only difficulty that remained, concerned the
money that the two old men had paid to Phormio as
a consideration for marrying the girl whom, before
they knew who she really was, they had been so
anxious to get rid of. Phormio, true to his character,
took the bull by the horns. He called at Demipho’s:
house, and inquired for the master.

Dem. (coming from behind). “Ah, Phormio! we
were just on our way to you.”

Phor. “I dare say on the same business that
brought me here. Well, gentlemen, I am a poor
man, but I have always kept my promises. I came
to say that I am quite ready to marry.”

Dem. “Well, to tell the truth, we have thought it
over again. It might have been done before the
342 APOLLODORUS.

girl was married to Antipho, but it would hardly do
to turn her out. Just what ‘you said yourself, you
remember.”

_Phor. “This is pretty treatment, gentlemen.”

Dem. “How so?”

_ Phor. “Because now I have lost the other girl.
How can I go back after I have jilted her?”

Dem. “The truth is that my son won’t give up
the girl. To cut it short, I want you to pay back
the money.”

Phor. “Tf you are ready to hand over to me the
wife you promised me, very good; I will marry her.
Failing that, I keep her dowry. It is only fair, be-
cause I gave up for her another girl who had USE as
much.”

Dem. “ Pay 1 me the money, you scoundrel!”

Phor. “Give me the wife.”

Dem. “Come along to the magistrates.”

Phor. “Now, if you are going to be troublesome,
. I have something to say. I know a-lady whose hus-

band —”’

Chr. “How!”

Phor. “Had another wife at Lemnos.”

Chr. “Tam undone!”

Phor. “ And had a daughter by her.”

Chr. “For heaven’s sake, don’t say anything
about it.”

Phor. “Oh! you are the man, are you?” -

After some more angry parleyings, the two old
PHORMIO. 343

men caught hold of Phormio, and tried to drag him
away; Phormio, on the other hand, struggled to get
to the door of Chremes’s house. -Finding that the
two were too strong for him, he shouted out, ‘“ Nau-
sistrata!” at the top of his voice. “Stop the villain’s
mouth!” cried Chremes. “TI can’t,” said Demipho,
“he’s too strong.” — “ Nausistrata!” shouted Phormio
again, and Nausistrata appeared. ‘ Who calls me?”
she asked, “and what is all this disturbance about ?”
Phormio told the story, Chremes cowering in abject
fear. Demipho’s intercession and her husband’s
misery, along with the reflection that what was. done
could not be undone, did something to mitigate Nau-
sistrata’s wrath; but before she had brought herself
to forgive the culprit, Phormio thought it well to
secure himself and his young friend Pheedria.
“Nausistrata,” he said, “I got one hundred and
fifty pounds from your husband by a trick, and gave
them to your son. He spent them in buying a wife.”
_ Chr. “What do you say? Buying a wife?” .

Naus. “Pray why not? If an-old man has two
wives, may not a young one have one a

Dem. “He will do what you like.”

Naus. “Well, I sha’n’t forgive him, till I hear
what my son has to say. He shall decide. And
you, sir, what is your name a

Phor. “My name is Phormio; a friend of your
family, madam, and a particular ally of your son

Pheedria.”
344 _» APOLLODORUS.

Naus. “Phormio, rely on my doing hereafter all
I can for you.”

Phor. “Yam greatly obliged to you, madam.”

Naus. “The obligation is with us, sir.”

Phor. “Would you do something that would please
me and make your husband’s eyes smart?”

Naus. ‘“ Certainly.”

Phor. “Then ask me to dinner to-day.”

Naus. “I shall be happy to see you, sir.”
- Dem. “ Let us all go in.”

Chr. “But where is Pheedria, who is to be my
judge?”

Phor. “He'll be here before long, I warrant.”
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Specimen af Minor Illustrations in ‘The Laureate's Country?
THE LAUREATE’S COUNTRY. Sketches of Places
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ee ee ae ee
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N




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Specimen of Minor Letustrations in the “ Peak of Derbyshire.’

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Specimen of Illustrations in ‘Greek Gulliver.’

THE GREEK GULLIVER. Stories from Lucian.
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London: Printed by SrrancEways & Sons, Tower Street, Cambridge Circus, W.C. ~
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