CLASSICAL WISDOM SOCIETY PRESENTS

THE WASPS

BY ARISTOPHANES

INTRODUCTION AND BIOGRAPHY BY BEN POTTER

EDITED BY ANYA ELIZABETH LEONARD

COVER DESIGN BY SANTIAGO ALVIRA

CLASSICAL WISDOM WEEKLY

Front Cover Images:

Terracotta mask of the Leading Slave, about 250 B.C. Athens, Agora Museum.

Details Four men stung by bees. Black-figured amphora (back: satyrs and maenads). Archaic Greek. ca. 550 BCE. From Vulci, Italy. Location: British Museum, London, Great Britain.

Introduction

The ancient Athenian comedians, unfortunately, are often overlooked when compared to their dramatic counterparts. But they deserve more attention than they are generally given… and this is certainly true in the case of the master of Old Comedy, Aristophanes.

To call this outstanding talent ‘the master’ is self-evident, as Aristophanes is actually the only extant example we have of Old Comedy. This should not diminish him, however, as it is widely assumed he was the foremost executioner of the art form.

His eleven extant works make up an important historical, artistic and comedic oeuvre, each one worthy of scrutiny and contemplation. But if one wished to know the best starting point into the world of this (literally) exceptional scribe, then one would be hard-pressed to look further than The Wasps.

The Wasps (422 BC) is not merely deemed to be Aristophanes’ most biting social commentary as well as his most ambitious piece, but is also thought to be the best exemplar of how a traditional Old Comedy was structured. It is also extremely funny to boot.

However, due to the ubiquity of scathing in-jokes in this slanderous, hysterical and, sometimes base production, it is necessary to know a little about the social and political background to The Wasps.

The primary target of Aristophanes’ satirical ire was the chief demagogue of the time, Cleon. In fact, Cleon is one of Aristophanes’ favourite topics, having lampooned him in two previous productions, The Knights (424 BC) and Peace (423 BC).

The aristocratic Cleon had shot to popularity following the Battle of Sphacteria in 425 BC. This crushing defeat of the Spartan forces (briefly) tipped the balance of the Peloponnesian War in favour of the Athenians.

However, the adulation the triumphant commander inevitably received told only half the story of Cleon’s popularity; the other half was what inflamed Aristophanes’ satirical wrath.

Although the Athenian system did not allow for any one man to hold true power, Cleon cemented his position as the pre-eminent politician of the 420’s by two means: ‘bribery’ and sycophancy.

Both of these he did through the might of the Athenian law-courts.

Specifically, he incentivized the poor and elderly by increasing juror pay to three obols a day (almost a living wage) and constantly championing their cause in the Assembly.

Aristophanes seems to have thought this created an underclass of parsimonious and hard-hearted ‘professional’ jurors. His chief gripe, however, seems not to be the pittance paid to the jurymen (the coins were so small they were carried around in the mouth), but the fact that Cleon and his cronies became ever-more wealthy as a result of their political machinations.Though it is the great orator’s role as a sycophant which was truly noteworthy. This is partly etymologically, as he may have played a role in preserving the word, albeit with different connotations, for future generations.

While a sycophantic nowadays is a self-seeking and servile flatterer, back in democratic Athens, it had a slightly variant meaning. A sycophant was someone who brought unsubstantiated prosecutions against fellow citizens. And this Cleon certainly did with seemingly zealous regularity, particularly against those he considered to be politically ‘inconvenient’.

For these reasons, together with the fact that he brought a (seemingly frivolous) case against Aristophanes himself, the playwright felt compelled to have one final stab at appealing to the demos to jettison Cleon from front-line politics.

The onslaught in The Wasps was as subtle as, in the words of Douglas Adams, having one’s “brains smashed out with a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick”.

This is immediately apparent from the two protagonists: an elderly man addicted to jury-duty, and his sophisticated son who wants to curb his father’s embarrassing habit and introduce him to a life of refinement.

This, in isolation, would have been a reasonably delicate barb… had not Aristophanes named the father and son Procleon and Anticleon respectively.

The Play Itself

Indeed, the play opens with the figures of two slaves and Anticleon, all of whom are sleeping on the job. They are trying to keep the phileliastes (‘trialophile’) safely under lock and key, so he can’t sneak off to condemn someone.

During the watchful interludes of their repose, the slaves warm up the crowd by mocking a few prominent citizens sitting in the audience before repelling Procleon as he tries to pop out of the house’s various nooks and crannies. The effect of which being a large scale, theatrical re-enactment of Whac-A-Mole.

Despite the political message there is still plenty of slapstick and toilet humour to stop the piece feeling too preachy. As the slave, Xanthias, says to the crowd:

“This is just a little fable with a moral: not too highbrow for you we hope, but a bit more intelligent than the usual knockabout stuff”.

In case you were beginning to wonder what, if anything, this boisterous send-up had to do with wasps, the stage directions for the entrance of the Chorus should explain things:

“A curious buzzing sound is heard: this gradually resolves itself into the wheezing and mumbling of a group of aged jurymen, who form the Chorus. As they clump and hobble on to the stage, guided by small boys carrying rather feeble lamps, they are seen to be costumed as wasps, with vicious-looking stings behind. Over their costumes they wear tattered jurymen’s cloaks”.

When it came to the actual performance, choruses were assigned to playwrights rather than chosen by the artists themselves. Even so, Aristophanes could have predicted that he would be allotted a Chorus of elderly men, as most of the young of Athens were away fighting at the siege of Scione.

This perhaps explains why the other, apolitical, theme of The Wasps is age versus youth… tradition versus modernity.

This conflict is a vein that runs throughout the play. One of countless examples is the following back and forth which treads a line somewhere between Gilbert & Sullivan and the Marx Brothers:

CHORUS:

Say something new, and say it well, and you will then appear -

ANTICLEON:

Go in and fetch my writing case, and quickly bring it here!

Yes, what will appear, my friends, if he’s advised of you?

CHORUS:

To speak with more politeness than some younger people do.

This comes from the preamble to the agon (contest) in which Anticleon convinces Procleon, as well as his Chrous of stinging jurors, that Cleon is not all he’s cracked up to be. Likewise, sitting on juries is not the be-all and end-all of one’s golden years.

Despite this acquiescence, Procleon cannot beat his judgemental habit, the symptoms of which are insomnia, compulsive thinking, paranoia, rapacity and dubious personal hygiene!

Anticleon, showing due filial affection, says they can have a mock trial right in front of the house to sate his father’s juridical thirst and, of course, he pays him three obols for the privilege.

The defendant in the trial is a household dog who has stolen some Sicilian cheese. The plaintiff? Another dog who saw him eat it.

This agreeably farcical scene raises a smile in itself, but it improves with a little contextual knowledge.

The proceedings are a direct parody of Cleon’s attempt to sycophantically prosecute Laches, the general in charge of the failed Sicilian expedition of 426 BC. The fact that one of Cleon’s nicknames was ‘The Dog’ only serves to hammer the point home.

Even though the defendant brings his children (i.e. his puppies) before Procleon in an attempt to soften his heart (a common tactic at Athenian trials) it takes some slight of hand on the part of Anticleon to secure an acquittal for ‘Laches’.

Now that Procleon is free from the bonds of ‘trialophilia’, Anticleon takes it upon himself to educate his father in the ways of modern, sophisticated society.

This includes schooling him in manners of speech and behaviour, as well as giving him a new wardrobe of Persian and Spartan design, i.e. the clothes of Athens’ bitter enemies.

With his new found enlightenment, Anticleon believes his father is almost ready for polite society, so asks him what he would say at a drinking party. Procleon responds that, should he see Cleon, he’d say:

“Take care, if too high in the city you rise,

You’ll make her top-heavy and then she’ll capsize.”

And so father and son go to do what any sophisticated Athenian gentlemen about town would… they get steaming drunk.

A ‘some time later’ banner drifts across our mind’s eye. When they return to the stage it is apparent that Procleon has made a fool of himself by “leaping about like a young ass after a feed of barley: jumping up and down, laughing and farting”.

He is clearly heavily under the influence and, if that weren’t bad enough, he’s kidnapped one of his host’s… ahem… ‘flute-girls’.

Anticleon arrives, ready to give his sire a verbal basting, but Procleon fells him with a well-placed punch instead.

The slapstick scene fizzles out with more stories of the elderly gent’s drunken behaviour and a threat from an aggrieved citizen to turn the tables and prosecute Procleon for his boozy misdeeds.

All that’s left is for Aristophanes, via the Chorus, to give the audience a stern telling off for their political naivety (as well as their poor taste for not giving him the winning prize the previous year at the festival). Procleon then leads the cast in an elaborate, Bollywood-style, song and dance finale – with a bit more audience teasing thrown in for good measure.

Behind the Scenes

The scene of Procleon’s drunkenness is one which give The Wasps, despite its clear, partisan message, a rather ambiguous conclusion.

Anticleon, though correct in recognising the cynicism and manipulating tactics of Cleon, provides no alternative, no leadership. He’s content to belittle, moan and debauch, but gives nothing back.

Even though, by following his son’s example, Procleon has unfettered himself from the shackles of demagoguery, he has done nothing to improve his soul. Indeed, during his inebriation we see him at his most unpleasant.

The upshot seem to be this: Procleon and his ilk are the stock of greatness, but have been foolishly misled. Athens needs them, but it needs them awake, incredulous and alert to danger.

Anticleon, though nominally in the right, is shallow and soft – as is evidenced by the ease with which a man from the ‘good old days’ can lay him out with one punch.

The struggle is between the wholesome, democratic, but gullible demos and the lively, educated, but ultimately limp intelligentsia.

At the end of the day, The Wasps only received a second prize when it was performed in 422 BC and perhaps this is unsurprising. While Aristophanes was appreciated as a comedian, his views neither reflected nor carried those of the people.

Despite this defeat, Aristophanes saw his wish of a Cleon-less Athens fulfilled when the latter died at Amphipolis later the same year.

The death of the demagogue paved the way for a temporary peace, something the writer could have pointed to as justification for his constant and acerbic criticisms.

Aristophanes was a great comedic playwright not merely because he was wise, witty and wrote well-constructed plots, but because he also had that artistic gift of all great social commentators, prescience.

Whether or not he was right about Cleon is still a matter hotly debated. However, he could clearly see the inherent weakness and folly of a judicial body which would go on to commit the greatest sin of the democratic era by capriciously executing Socrates in 399 BC.

The scant comfort, for Aristophanes at least, is that he has on record that he was right all along, as illustrated on almost every single page of the Wasps.

Biography

To translate Ancient texts correctly is no easy task, even for the most proficient student of Greek. To attempt it at all is commendable, but to do so when the subject matter is a comedy, is a project fit for only the insanely brilliant or the brilliantly insane.

Translation from a dead language, with all its subtleties, nuances and ambiguities, is made all the more difficult when one hopes to round off a day with more than merely a sense of accuracy, but with that most elusive and intangible of things… a sense of humour.

Although there is no short supply of ancient comedy, there is one writer who shines above the rest. One who was not only the most famous in his own time, but has stood the test of ours; Aristophanes of Athens.

In addition to being the undisputed master of all ancient mirth-making, Aristophanes (b. 445 BC) is, in fact, the only extant example we have of Old or ‘Attic’ Comedy. Indeed, he is the only individual antiquity produced about whom we can use the over-flaunted term ‘comic genius’.

Not everyone, however, agreed with this synopsis.

Within 100 years of their inception, the plays Aristophanes wrote, produced and directed at the theatrical festivals of Athens were considered to be crude and dated. At least by the likes of Aristotle.

And there can be no denying that boorishness, lubricity, slapstick, innuendo and scatological humour feature throughout the Aristophanic canon.

However, this ‘low’ humour is complemented by political satire and parody, witty one-liners, puns of all calibre, surrealism and farce.

This juxtaposition of the lofty and the base was perhaps essential for Aristophanes’ audiences, who made up a (10,000 person strong) microcosm of Athenian democratic life; from the illiterate market trader to the most learned aristocrat.

About Aristophanes himself we know almost nothing, save what we can infer from his own texts and from Plato’s The Symposium, in which he features as a character.

In this work, Plato portrays other notable Athenians (e.g. Agathon, Alcibiades and Socrates) with enough accuracy to add verisimilitude to the whole piece. Thus we assume that the Platonic character of Aristophanes correlates, at least in some part, to his flesh and blood model.

Plato presents the comedian as convivial, popular, creative and intelligent, while Socrates states that his “whole concern is with Dionysus and Aphrodite”. Although Dionysus was the god of both wine and theatre, in the context of The Symposium it is easy to imagine that Socrates is accusing him of being a drunken womaniser.

This is reinforced at the end of the text, when everyone has fallen asleep except Socrates, Agathon and Aristophanes, who are still drinking as the sun rises.

Aristophanes was also renowned as one who took politicians to task for their avarice and incompetence. The fact that he lived through the Peloponnesian War meant that he had no shortage of opportunity to do so.

In this respect, the law was complicit with the artist, as there was no legal recourse for a citizen who believed himself defamed in a comedy. Blasphemy or treason, however, was dealt with severely. Aristophanes found this out personally during the trial following his less-than-patriotic play The Babylonians, in 426 BC.

The fact that he was never tried for impiety gives us a good deal of knowledge about what was generally considered acceptable. For example, in The Frogs, he portrays Dionysus as lazy, cowardly and generally useless… during a festival held in the god’s honour!

Much like the eclectic Athenian audience then, a modern reader gets more from Aristophanes’ comedies with a greater knowledge of Greek history and culture. That said, it would be boggling to imagine anybody would have to plod through the text, laboriously wrenching the jokes from the page.

This is because some of the plots alone are enough to raise a smile, ie. women of the city taking over the government, the gods being held to ransom, all wives of warring Greeks going on a sex strike, etc.

Just try not to laugh.

As ever, there is another who can put it far more eloquently than I; scholar and translator, David Barrett:

“Reading Aristophanes we fall under the spell of this illusion [of personal participation]: we sit among his audience, indistinguishable from the rest; we laugh when they laugh, are moved when they are moved, hardly conscious that we sometimes have no idea what it is all about.”

Introduction to Old Comedy

Comedy, like tragedy, was a competition in Ancient Greece, with clearly codified movements – presumably to ensure an even playing field for participants.

Aristophanes, being our only extant practitioner of Old Comedy and something of a pioneer, is perhaps not the perfect exemplar to help us recognise what the established movements were. If we take a composite of his works though, then we can say, with some confidence, that an Old Comedy needed to have, among other things, these three elements:

1. Parados – the scene in which the Chorus enter

2. Agon – a verbal or physical contest

3. Parabasis – a scene where the Chorus broke character and directly addressed the audience, often to ram home a political point.

These rules in turn had their own conventions; there were eight distinct stages of the parabasis and the rhythm and metre of the agon meant it required a good degree of poetical adroitness.

Additionally, there were the following optional movements:

1. Prologue – in which the main character and broad plot are introduced amidst a good deal of buffoonery.

2. Post-parados/pre-agon – a scene to set up the agon

3. Expulsion – a scene in which ancillary characters are marginalised, belittled and generally removed from the stage.

4. Exodos – a Choral finale

Another disputed movement is the gamos (marriage scene), though if this were part of the established structure of a comedy, Aristophanes evidently didn’t care for it (though it is rife in Shakespeare).

Structural integrity, however, was not the only expected characteristic of Old Comedy.

It was just assumed that a production would have a Chorus, dancers, acrobats, pipers, castanet players, extravagant costumes (complete with a phallus for cheap laughs), elaborate scenery, decorative masks, as well as an abundance of extras.

While it is not clear that any of the above was actually ‘mandatory’, a playwright would have been a fool not to employ as much of this wonderful garnish as he could. Especially as neither he, nor the theatre-going, tax-paying public, would have been expected to foot the bill.

That honour (and a considerable civic and religious honour it was) went to one of the wealthy citizens of the state. This enforced-benefactor (Choregus) was chosen by the Principal Magistrate (Eponymous Archon).

Fortunately, a Choregus could easily escape his fiscal responsibilities if he believed another was financially better placed to contribute. All he needed to do was challenge another citizen to take on the role. That citizen could either a) accept, or b) agree to a complete exchange of wealth, property and land with the challenging Choregus.

While Aristophanes represented the above era of ‘Old Comedy’, its successor ‘New Comedy’ was championed by another writer named Menander. It was this latter style that eventually evolved into the Roman comedy of Plautus and Terence, which was, in turn, unscrupulously plagiarised by Shakespeare.

While Aristotle disparaged Aristophanes, he was very fond of this ‘New Comedy’, despite the fact that it only came into existence due to the previous comic’s innovations.

The Wasps

Aristophanes

Dramatis Personae

PHILOCLEON

BDELYCLEON, his Son

SOSIAS, Slave of Philocleon

XANTHIAS, Slave of Philocleon

BOYS

DOGS

A GUEST

A BAKER’S WIFE

AN ACCUSER

CHORUS OF WASPS

In the background is the house of PHILOCLEON, surrounded by a huge net. Two slaves are on guard, one of them asleep. On the roof is BDELYCLEON.

SOSIAS (waking XANTHIAS up)

Why, Xanthias! what are you doing,

wretched man?

XANTHIAS

I am teaching myself how to rest;

I have been awake and on watch the whole night.

SOSIAS

So you want to earn trouble for your ribs, eh?

Don’t you know what sort of animal we are guarding here?

XANTHIAS

Aye indeed! but I want to put my cares to sleep for a while.

(He falls asleep again.)

SOSIAS

Beware what you do.

I too feel soft sleep spreading over my eyes,

XANTHIAS

Are you crazy, like a Corybant?

SOSIAS

No! It’s Bacchus who lulls me off.

XANTHIAS

Then you serve the same god as myself.

just now a heavy slumber settled on my

eyelids like a hostile Mede;

I nodded and, faith!

I had a wondrous dream.

SOSIAS

Indeed! and so had I.

A dream such as I never had before.

But first tell me yours.

XANTHIAS

I saw an eagle, a gigantic bird,

descend upon the market-place;

it seized a brazen buckler with its talons

and bore it away into the highest heavens;

then I saw it was Cleonymus had thrown it away.

SOSIAS

This Cleonymus is a riddle worth

propounding among guests.

How can one and the same animal

have cast away his buckler

both on land, in the sky and at sea?

XANTHIAS

Alas! what ill does such a

dream portend for me?

SOSIAS

Rest undisturbed! Please the gods,

no evil will befall you.

XANTHIAS

Nevertheless, it’s a fatal omen

when a man throws

away his weapons.

But what was your dream?

Let me hear.

SOSIAS

Oh! it is a dream of high import.

It has reference to the hull of the

State; to nothing less.

XANTHIAS

Tell it to me quickly;

show me its very keel.

SOSIAS

In my first slumber I thought I saw sheep,

wearing cloaks and carrying staves,

met in assembly on the Pnyx;

a rapacious whale was haranguing them

and screaming like a pig that is being grilled.

XANTHIAS

Faugh! faugh!

SOSIAS

What’s the matter?

XANTHIAS

Enough, enough, spare me.

Your dream stinks vilely

of old leather.

SOSIAS

Then this scoundrelly whale seized a

balance and set to weighing ox-fat.

XANTHIAS

Alas! it’s our poor Athenian people,

whom this accursed beast wishes to

cut up and despoil of their fat.

SOSIAS

Seated on the ground close to it,

I saw Theorus, who had the head of crow.

Then Alcibiades said to me in his lisping way,

“Do you thee? Theoruth hath a crow’th head.”

XANTHIAS

Ah! that’s very well lisped indeed!

SOSIAS

Isn’t this mighty strange?

Theorus turning into a crow!

XANTHIAS

No, it is glorious.

SOSIAS

Why?

XANTHIAS

Why? He was a man and now he

has suddenly become a crow;

does it not foretoken that he will

take his flight from here and

go to the crows?

SOSIAS

Interpreting dreams so aptly

certainly is worth two obols.

XANTHIAS (turning to the audience)

Come, I must explain the matter

to the spectators. But first a

few words of preamble: expect

nothing very high-flown from us,

nor any jests stolen from Megara;

we have no slaves, who throw

baskets of nuts to the spectators,

nor any Heracles to be robbed of

his dinner, nor does Euripides

get loaded with contumely; and

despite the happy chance that

gave Cleon his fame we shall not

go out of our way to belabour him again,

Our little subject is not wanting in sense;

it is well within your capacity and at

the same time cleverer than many

vulgar comedies.-We have a master

of great renown, who is now sleeping

up there on the other story.

He has bidden us keep guard over his father,

whom he has locked in,

so. that he may not go out.

This father has a curious complaint;

not one of you could hit upon or guess it,

if I did not tell you.-Well then, try!

I hear Amynias, the son of Pronapus,

over there, saying, “He is addicted to gambling.”

He’s wrong! He is imputing his own

malady to others. Yet love is indeed the

principal part of his disease. Ah!

here Sosias is telling Dercylus,

“He loves drinking.” Wrong again!

the love of wine is a good man’s failing.

“Well then,” says Nicostratus of

the Scambonian deme, “he either

loves sacrifices or else strangers.”

God no! he is not fond of strangers,

Nicostratus, for he who says

“Philoxenus” means a pederast,

It’s mere waste of time, you will not find it out.

If you want to know it, keep silence!

I will tell your our master’s complaint;

of all men, it is he who is fondest of the Heliaea.

Thus, to be judging is his hobby, and

he groans if he is not sitting on the first seat.

He does not close an eye at night,

and if he dozes off for an instant

his mind flies instantly to the clepsydra.

He is so accustomed to hold the

balloting pebble, that he awakes with

his three fingers pinched together as

if he were offering incense to the new

moon. If he sees scribbled on some

doorway, “How charming is Demos,

the son of Pyrilampes!” he will write

beneath it, “How charming is Cemos!”

His cock crowed one evening; said he,

“He has had money from the accused

to awaken me too late. As soon as he

rises from supper he bawls for his shoes

and away he rushes down there before

dawn to sleep beforehand, glued fast

to the column like an oyster. He is a

merciless judge, never failing to draw

the convicting line and return home

with his nails full of wax like a

bumble-bee. Fearing he might run

short of pebbles he keeps enough at

home to cover a sea-beach, so that

he may have the means of recording

his sentence. Such is his madness,

and all advice is useless; he only judges

the more each day. So we keep him

under lock and key, to prevent his

going out; for his son is broken-hearted

over this mania. At first he tried him

with gentleness, wanted to persuade

him to wear the cloak no longer, to go

out no more; unable to convince him,

he had him bathed and purified

according to the ritual without any

greater success, and then handed him

over to the Corybantes; but the old

man escaped them, and carrying off

the kettledrum, rushed right into the midst of the Heliasts.

As Cybele could do nothing with her rites,

his son took him to Aegina and

forcibly made him lie one night in

the temple of Asclepius, the God of

Healing, but before daylight there

he was to be seen at the gate of the

tribunal. Since then we let him go

out no more, but he escaped us

by the drains or by the skylight,

so we stuffed up every opening

with old rags and made all secure;

then he drove short sticks into the

wall and sprang from rung to rung

like a magpie. Now we have stretched-

nets all around the court and we keep

watch and ward. The old man’s name

is Philocleon, it’s the best name he

could have, and the son is called

Edelycleon, for he is a man very fit

to cure an insolent fellow of his boasting.

BDELYCLEON (from the roof)

Xanthias! Sosias! Are you asleep?

XANTHIAS

Alas!

SOSIAS

What is the matter?

XANTHIAS

Why, Bdelycleon is getting up.

BDELYCLEON

Will neither of you come here?

My father has got into the stove-chamber

and is ferreting about like a rat in his hole.

Take care he does not escape through

the bath drain. You there, put all your

weight against the door.

XANTHIAS

Yes, master.

BDELYCLEON

By Zeus! what is that noise in

the chimney? Hullo! who are you?

PHILOCLEON (poking his head out of the chimney)

I am the smoke going up.

BDELYCLEON

Smoke? smoke of what wood?

PHILOCLEON

Of fig-wood.

BDELYCLEON

Ah! that’s the most acrid of all.

But you shall not get out.

Where is the chimney cover?

Come down again.

Now, up with another cross-bar.

Now look out for some fresh dodge.

But am I not the most unfortunate of men?

Henceforward I shall only

be called the son of

Capnius.

XANTHIAS

He is pushing the door.

BDELYCLEON

Throw your weight upon it, come,

put heart into the work.

I will come and help you.

Watch both lock and bolt.

Take care he does not gnaw t

hrough the peg.

PHILOCLEON (from within)

What are you doing, you wretches?

Let me go out; it is imperative that

I go and judge, or Dracontides

will be acquitted.

XANTHIAS

Would you mind that?

PHILOCLEON

Once at Delphi, the god,

whom I was consulting, foretold,

that if an accused man escaped me,

I should die of consumption.

XANTHIAS

Apollo the Saviour, what a prophecy!

PHILOCLEON

Ah! I beseech you,

if you do not want my death, let me go.

XANTHIAS

No, Philocleon, no never, by Posidon!

PHILOCLEON

Well then, I shall gnaw through

the net with my teeth.

XANTHIAS

But you have no teeth.

PHILOCLEON

Oh! you rascal, how can I kill you?

How? Give me a sword,

quick, or a conviction tablet.

BDELYCLEON

Our friend is planning some great crime.

PHILOCLEON

No, by Zeus! but I want to go and sell

my ass and its panniers,

for it’s the first of the month.

BDELYCLEON

Could I not sell it just as well?

PHILOCLEON

Not as well as I could.

BDELYCLEON

No, but better.

PHILOCLEON

Bring out the ass anyway.

XANTHIAS

What a clever excuse he has found now!

What cunning to get you to let him go out!

BDELYCLEON

Yes, but I have not swallowed the hook;

I scented the trick. I will go in and fetch the ass,

so that the old man may not point his

weapons that way again.

(He goes in, returning immediately with the ass.)

Stupid old ass, are you weeping

because you are going to be sold?

Come, go a bit quicker.

Why, what are you moaning and groaning for?

You might be carrying another Odysseus.

XANTHIAS

Why, certainly, so he is! someone

has crept beneath his belly.

BDELYCLEON

Who, who? Let’s see. Why it’s he!

What does this mean?

Who are you? Come, speak!

PHILOCLEON

I am Noman.

BDELYCLEON

Noman? Of what country?

PHILOCLEON

Of Ithaca, son of Apodrasippides.

BDELYCLEON

Ha! Mister Noman, you will not laugh presently.

Pull him out quick.

Ah! the wretch, where has he crept to?

Does he not resemble a she-ass to the life?

PHILOCLEON

If you do not leave me in peace, I shall sue.

BDELYCLEON

And what will the suit be about?

PHILOCLEON

The shade of an ass.

BDELYCLEON

You are a poor man of very little wit,

but thoroughly brazen.

PHILOCLEON

A poor man! Ah! by Zeus!

you know not now what I am worth;

but you will know when you disembowel

the old Heliast’s money-bag.

BDELYCLEON

Come, get back indoors,

both you and your ass.

PHILOCLEON

Oh! my brethren of the tribunal! oh!

Cleon! to the rescue!

BDELYCLEON

Go and bawl in there under lock and key.

And you there, pile plenty of stones against the door,

thrust the bolt home into the staple,

and to keep this beam in its place roll

that great mortar against it. Quick’s the word.

XANTHIAS

Oh! my god! whence did this brick fall on me?

BDELYCLEON

Perhaps a rat loosened it.

XANTHIAS

A rat? it’s surely our gutter-judge,

who has crept beneath the tiles of the roof.

BDELYCLEON

Ah! woe to us! there he is,

he has turned into a sparrow;

he will be flying off. Where is the net?

where? Shoo! shoo! get back!

Ah! by Zeus! I would rather have to

guard Scione than such a father.

XANTHIAS

And now that we have driven him in

thoroughly and he can no longer escape

without our knowledge, can we not have

a few winks of sleep, no matter how few?

BDELYCLEON

Why, wretch! the other jurymen will be

here almost directly to summon my father!

XANTHIAS

Why, it’s scarcely dawn yet!

BDELYCLEON

Ah, they must have risen late to-day.

Generally it is the middle of the night

when they come to fetch him.

They arrive here, carrying lanterns in their hands

and singing the charming old verses of Phrynichus’

Sidonian Women; it’s their way of calling him.

XANTHIAS

Well, if need be, we will chase them off with stones.

BDELYCLEON

What! you dare to speak so?

Why, this class of old men, if irritated,

becomes as terrible as a swarm of wasps.

They carry below their loins

the sharpest of stings, with which to

prick their foes; they shout and leap

and their stings burn like so many sparks.

XANTHIAS

Have no fear! If I can find stones to

throw into this nest of jurymen-wasps,

I shall soon have them cleared off. (Enter the

CHORUS, composed of old men costumed as wasps.)

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

March on, advance boldly and bravely!

Comias, your feet are dragging;

once you were as tough as a

dog-skin strap and now even Charinades

walks better than you. Ha! Strymodorus of

Conthyle, you best of mates,

where is Euergides and where is

Chabes of Phlya? Ha, ha, bravo!

there you are, the last of the lads with

whom we mounted guard together at

Byzantium. Do you remember how,

one night, prowling round, we noiselessly

stole the kneading-trough of a baker’s wife;

we split it in two and cooked our green-stuff

with it.-But let us hasten, for the case

of Laches comes on to-day,

and they all say he has embezzled a pot of money.

Hence Cleon, our protector, advised us

yesterday to come early and with a three days’

stock of fiery rage so as to chastise him for

his crimes. Let us hurry, comrades,

before it is light; come, let us search every

nook with our lanterns to see whether

those who wish us ill have not set us some trap.

BOY

Father, father, watch out for the mud.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Pick up a blade of straw and trim your lamp.

BOY

No. I can trim it quite well with my finger.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Why do you pull out the wick, you little dolt?

Oil is scarce, and it’s not you who suffer

when it has to be paid for. (Strikes him.)

BOY

If you teach us again with your fists,

we shall put out the lamps and go home;

then you will have no light and will squatter

about in the mud like ducks in the dark.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

I know how to punish offenders bigger than you.

But I think I am treading in some mud.

Oh! it’s certain it will rain in torrents for f

our days at least; look at the snuff in our lamps;

that is always a sign of heavy rain;

but the rain and the north wind will be

good for the crops that are still standing.

Why, what can have happened to our mate,

who lives here? Why does he not come to join our party?

There used to be no need to haul him in our wake,

for he would march at our head singing

the verses of Phrynichus; he was a lover of singing.

Should we not, friends, make a halt here

and sing to call him out? The charm of my

voice will fetch him out, if he hears it.

CHORUS (singing)

Why does the old man not show

himself before the door? Why does

he not answer? Has he lost his shoes?

has he stubbed his toe in the dark

and thus got a swollen ankle?

Perhaps he has a tumour in his groin.

He was the hardest of us all; he alone

never allowed himself to be moved.

If anyone tried to move him, he would

lower his head, saying, “You might just

as well try to boil a stone.”

But I bethink me, an accused man

escaped us yesterday through his false

pretence that he loved Athens and

had been the first to unfold the Samian plot.

Perhaps his acquittal has so distressed

Philocleon that he is abed with fever-he

is quite capable of such a thing.-Friend,

arise, do not thus vex your heart,

but forget your wrath. To-day we have

to judge a man made wealthy by-treason,

one of those who set Thrace free;

we have to prepare him a funeral urn….

so march on, my boy, get going.

(Here a duet begins between the BOY and the CHORUS.)

BOY

Father, would you give me

something if I asked for it?

CHORUS

Assuredly, my child, but tell me

what nice thing do you want me to buy you?

A set of knuckle-bones, I suppose.

BOY

No, father, I prefer figs; they are better.

CHORUS

No, by Zeus! even if you were to

hang yourself with vexation.

BOY

Well then, I will lead you no farther.

CHORUS

With my small pay, I am obliged

to buy bread, wood, and stew;

and now you ask me for figs!

BOY

But, father, if the Archon should not

form a court to-day, how are we to buy our dinner?

Have you some good hope to offer us or only

“Helle’s sacred waves”?

CHORUS

Alas! alas! I have not a notion

how we shall dine.

BOY

Oh! my poor mother! why did

you let me see this day?

CHORUS

So that you might give me

troubles to feed on.

BOY

Little wallet, you seem like to be

a mere useless ornament!

BOY AND CHORUS

It is our destiny to groan.

PHILOCLEON (appearing at an upper window; singing)

My friends, I have long been pining

away while listening to you from

my window, but I absolutely know not

what to do. I am detained here, because

I have long wanted to go with

you to the law-court and do all the

harm I can. Oh! Zeus! cause the

peals of thy thunder to roll, change

me quickly into smoke or make me

into a Proxenides, a tissue of falsehoods,

like the son of Sellus. Oh,

King of Heaven! hesitate not to

grant me this favour, pity my misfortune

or else may thy dazzling lightning

instantly reduce me to ashes; then

carry me hence, and may thy breath

hurl me into some strong, hot marinade

or turn me into one of the stones

on which the votes are counted.

CHORUS (singing)

Who is it detains you and shuts you in?

Speak, for you are talking to friends.

PHILOCLEON (singing)

My son. But no bawling,

he is there in front asleep;

lower your voice.

CHORUS (singing)

But, poor fellow, what is his aim?

what is his object?

PHILOCLEON (singing)

My friends, he will not have me

judge nor do anyone any ill,

but he wants me to stay at

home and enjoy myself, and I will not.

And does this wretch, this

Demologocleon dare to say such odious things, j

ust because you tell the truth about our navy?

He would not have dared, had he not been a conspirator.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

But meanwhile, you must devise

some new dodge, so that you can come

down here without his knowledge.

PHILOCLEON

But what? Try to find some way.

For myself, I am ready for anything,

so much do I burn to run along the tiers

of the tribunal with my voting-pebble in my hand.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

There is surely some hole through

which you could manage to squeeze

from within, and escape dressed

in rags, like the crafty Odysseus.

PHILOCLEON

Everything is sealed fast; not so much

as a gnat could get through.

Think of some other plan; there is

no possible hole of escape.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Do you recall how, when you were

with the army at the taking of Naxos,

you descended so readily from the

top of the wall by means of

the spits you had stolen?

PHILOCLEON

I remember that well enough,

but what connection is there with

present circumstances? I was young,

clever at thieving, I had all my

strength, none watched over me,

and I could run off without fear.

But to-day men-at-arms are

placed at every outlet to watch me,

and two of them are lying in wait

for me at this very door armed with

spits, just as folks lie in wait for a

cat that has stolen a piece of meat.

CHORUS (singing)

Come, discover some way as

quick as possible. Here is the dawn come,

my dear little friend.

PHILOCLEON (singing)

The best way is to gnaw through the net. Oh!

goddess who watchest over the

nets, forgive me for making a

hole in this one.

CHORUS (singing)

It’s acting like a man eager for his safety. Get your jaws to work.

PHILOCLEON (singing)

There! it’s gnawed through!

But no shouting!

let Bdelycleon notice nothing!

CHORUS (singing)

Have no fear, have no fear! if he

breathes a syllable, it will be to

bruise his own knuckles; he will have

to fight to defend his own head.

We shall teach him not to insult

the mysteries of the goddesses.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

But fasten a rope to the window,

tie it around your body and let yourself

down to the ground, with your heart

bursting with the fury of Diopithes.

PHILOCLEON

But if these notice it and want to

fish me up and drag me back into

the house, what will you do? Tell me that.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

We shall call up the full strength

of our oak-tough courage to your

aid. That is what we will do.

PHILOCLEON

I trust myself to you and risk the

danger. If misfortune overtakes me,

take away my body, bathe it with your

tears and bury it beneath the bar of the tribunal.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Nothing will happen to you,

rest assured. Come, friend, have courage

and let yourself slide down while

you invoke your country’s gods.

PHILOCLEON

Oh! mighty Lycus! noble hero and

my neighbour, thou, like myself, takest

pleasure in the tears and the

groans of the accused.

If thou art come to live near the

tribunal, ‘tis with the express design

of hearing them incessantly; thou alone

of all the heroes hast wished to

remain among those who weep.

Have pity on me and save him, who

lives close to thee; I swear I will

never make water, never, nor ever

let a fart, against the railing of thy statue.

(He slides down as quietly as possible;

nevertheless BDELYCLEON wakes up.)

BDELYCLEON (to XANTHIAS)

Ho, there! ho! get up!

XANTHIAS (waking up)

What’s the matter?

BDELYCLEON

I thought I heard talking close to me.

Is the old man at it again, escaping

through some loophole?

XANTHIAS

No, by Zeus! no, but he is letting

himself down by a rope.

BDELYCLEON

Ha, rascal! what are you doing there?

You shall not descend.

(To XANTHIAS)

Mount quick to the other window, strike

him with the boughs that hang over the entrance;

perhaps he will turn back when

he feels himself being thrashed.

PHILOCLEON (to the audience)

To the rescue! all you, who are going

to have lawsuits this year-Smicythion,

Tisiades, Chremon and Pheredipnus.

It’s now or never, before they force me

to return, that you must help.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Why do we delay to let loose that fury,

that is so terrible, when our nests are attacked?

CHORUS (singing)

I feel my angry sting is stiffening,

that sharp sting, with which we

punish our enemies. Come, children,

cast your cloaks to the winds, run,

shout, tell Cleon what is happening,

that he may march against this foe

of our city, who deserves death,

since he proposes to prevent

the trial of lawsuits. (The Boys run off,

taking the CHORUS’ mantles with them.)

BDELYCLEON (rushing out of the

house with the two slaves and seizing his father)

Friends, listen to the truth, instead of bawling.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

By Zeus! we will shout to heaven.

BDELYCLEON

And I shall not let him go.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Why, this is intolerable,

‘tis manifest tyranny.

CHORUS (singing)

Oh! citizens, oh! Theorus,

the enemy of the gods!

and all you flatterers, who rule us!

come to our aid.

XANTHIAS

By Heracles! they have stings.

Do you see them, master?

BDELYCLEON

It was with these weapons that

they killed Philippus the son of

Gorgias when he was put on trial.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

And you too shall die. Turn yourselves

this way, all, with your stings

out for attack and throw yourselves

upon him in good and serried order,

and swelled up with wrath and rage.

Let him learn to know the sort of

foes he has dared to irritate.

XANTHIAS

The fight will be fast and furious,

by great Zeus! I tremble at

the sight of their stings.

CHORUS (singing)

Let this man go, unless you want

to envy the tortoise his hard shell.

PHILOCLEON

Come, my dear companions,

wasps with relentless hearts, fly against him,

animated with your fury. Sting him

in the arse, eyes, and fingers.

BDELYCLEON (opening the door and trying

to shove his struggling father in)

Midas, Phryx, Masyntias, here!

Come and help. Seize this man and

hand him over to no one, otherwise

you shall starve to death in chains.

Fear nothing, I have often heard the

crackling of fig-leaves in the fire.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

If you won’t let him go, I shall

bury this sting in your body.

PHILOCLEON

Oh, Cecrops, mighty hero with the

tail of a dragon! Seest thou how

these barbarians ill-use me-me,

who have many a time made them

weep a full bushel of tears?

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Is not old age filled with cruel ills?

What violence these two slaves

offer to their old master! they have

forgotten all bygones, the fur-coats

and the jackets and the caps he

bought for them; in winter he

watched that their feet should not get frozen.

And only see them now; there

is no gentleness in their look nor any

recollection of the slippers of other days.

PHILOCLEON (to XANTHIAS)

Will you let me go, you accursed animal?

Don’t you remember the day

when I surprised you stealing the grapes;

I tied you to an olive-tree and

I cut open your bottom with such

vigorous lashes that folks thought you

had been raped. Get away, you are ungrateful.

But let go of me, and you too,

before my son comes up.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

You shall repay us for

all this, and that soon.

Tremble at our ferocious glance;

you shall taste our just anger.

BDELYCLEON

Strike! strike! Xanthias! Drive these wasps

away from the house.

XANTHIAS

That’s just what I am doing.

BDELYCLEON

Blind them with smoke too!

XANTHIAS AND SOSIAS

You will not go? The plague seize you!

Will you not clear off?

BDELYCLEON

Hit them with your stick Xanthias,

and you Sosias, to smoke them out better,

throw Aeschines, the son of Sellartius, on the fire.

XANTHIAS (as the CHORUS retires

from the unequal conquest)

There, we were bound to drive

you off sooner or later!

BDELYCLEON

Eh! by Zeus! you would not have

put them to flight so easily if they had

fed on the verses of Philocles.

CHORUS (singing)

It is clear to all the poor that tyranny

has attacked us sorely. Proud emulator of

Amynias, you, who only take

pleasure in doing ill, see how you are

preventing us from obeying the laws of the city;

you do not even seek a pretext or

any plausible excuse, but claim to rule alone.

BDELYCLEON

Hold! A truce to all blows and brawling!

Had we not better confer together and

come to some understanding?

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Confer with you, the people’s

foe! with you, a royalist….

CHORUS (singing)

….and accomplice of Brasidas,

you with your woollen-fringed coat and

your long beard?

BDELYCLEON

Ah! it would be better to separate

altogether from my father than to steer my

boat daily through such stormy seas!

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Oh! you have but reached the parsley

and the rue, to use the common saying.

What you are suffering is nothing!

but welcome the hour when the advocate

shall adduce all these same arguments against

you and shall summon your accomplices to give witness.

BDELYCLEON

In the name of the gods! withdraw or

we shall fight you the whole day long.

CHORUS (singing)

No, not as long as I retain an atom of breath.

Ha! your desire is to tyrannize over us!

BDELYCLEON

Everything is now tyranny with us,

no matter what is concerned,

whether it be large or small. Tyranny!

I have not heard the word mentioned

once in fifty years, and now it is more

common than salt-fish, the word is even

current on the market. If you are

buying gurnards and don’t want anchovies,

the huckster next door, who is

selling the latter, at once exclaims,

“That is a man whose kitchen savours of tyranny!”

If you ask for onions to season your fish,

the green-stuff woman winks

one eye and asks, “Ha, you ask for onions!

are you seeking to tyrannize, or do you think

that Athens must pay you your seasonings as a tribute?”

XANTHIAS

Yesterday I went to see a whore about

noon and told her to get on top; she flew

into a rage, pretending I wanted to

restore the tyranny of Hippias.

BDELYCLEON

That’s the talk that pleases the people!

As for myself, I want my father to lead

a joyous life like Morychus instead

of going away before dawn basely

to calumniate and condemn; and

for this I am accused of conspiracy

and tyrannical practice!

PHILOCLEON

And quite right too, by Zeus!

The most exquisite dishes do not

make up to me for the life of which

you deprive me. I scorn your red

mullet and your eels, and would far

rather eat a nice little lawsuitlet cooked in the pot.

BDELYCLEON

That’s because you have got used to

seeking your pleasure in it; but if

you will agree to keep silence

and hear me, I think I could persuade you

that you deceive yourself altogether.

PHILOCLEON

I deceive myself, when I am judging?

BDELYCLEON

You do not see that you are the laughing-stock

of these men, whom you are

ready to worship. You are their slave

and do not know it.

PHILOCLEON

I a slave, I, who lord it over all?

BDELYCLEON

Not at all, you think you are ruling when

you are only obeying. Tell me, father,

what do you get out of the tribute paid

by so many Greek towns.

PHILOCLEON

Much, and I appoint my

colleagues jurymen.

BDELYCLEON

And I also. (To the slaves)

Release him.

PHILOCLEON

And bring me a sword; If I am

worsted in this debate,

I shall fall on the blade.

BDELYCLEON

Tell me whether you will accept

the verdict of the Court.

PHILOCLEON

May I never drink my Heliast’s pay

in honour of the Good

Genius, it if I do not.

CHORUS (singing)

Now it is necessary for you, who are

of our school, to say something novel,

that you may not seem…

BDELYCLEON (interrupting)

And I must note down everything he says,

so as to remember it; someone bring

me a tablet, quick.

CHORUS (singing)

….to side with this youth in his opinions.

You see how serious the question

has become; if he should prevail,

which the gods forfend, it will be all over for us.

PHILOCLEON

But what will you say of it, if he

should triumph in the debate?

CHORUS (singing)

That old men are no longer good

for anything; we shall be perpetually

laughed at in the streets, shall be called

thallophores, mere brief-bags.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

You are to be the champion of all our

rights and sovereignty. Come, take courage!

Bring into action all the resources of your wit.

PHILOCLEON

At the outset I will prove to you that

there exists no king whose might is

greater than ours. Is there a pleasure,

a blessing comparable with that of a juryman?

Is there a being who lives more in

the midst of delights, who is more

feared, aged though he be?

From the moment I leave my bed,

men of power, the most illustrious in

the city, await me at the bar of the tribunal;

the moment I am seen from the greatest

distance, they come forward to

offer me a gentle handy-that has

pilfered the public funds; they entreat me,

bowing right low and with a piteous voice,

“Oh, father,” they say, “pity me,

I adjure you by the profit you were able

to make in the public service or in the army,

when dealing with the victuals.”

Why, the man who speaks thus would not

know of my existence, had I not let him off

on some former occasion.

BDELYCLEON

Let us note this first point, the supplicants.

PHILOCLEON

These entreaties have appeased my wrath,

and I enter-firmly resolved to do

nothing that I have promised.

Nevertheless I listen to the accused. Oh!

what tricks to secure acquittal! Ah!

there is no form of flattery that is not

addressed to the Heliast! Some groan

over their poverty and exaggerate it.

Others tell us anecdotes or some comic

story from Aesop. Others, again,

cut jokes; they fancy I shall

be appeased if I won If we are not

even then won over, why, then they

drag forward their young children

by the hand, both boys and girls, who

prostrate themselves and whine with

one accord, and then the father, trembling

as if before a god, beseeches me not

to condemn him out of pity for them,

“If you love the voice of the lamb,

have pity on my sons”; and because

I am fond of little sows, I must yield

to his daughter’s prayers. Then we relax

the heat of our wrath a little for him.

Is not this great power indeed,

which allows even wealth to be disdained?

BDELYCLEON

A second point to note,

the disdain of wealth. And now recall

to me what are the advantages you enjoy,

you, who pretend to rule over Greece?

PHILOCLEON

We are entrusted with the inspection

of the young men, and thus we

have a right to examine their tools.

If Oeagrus is accused, he is not acquitted

before he has recited a passage from

‘Niobe’ and he chooses the finest.

If a flute-player gains his case,

he adjusts his mouth-strap in return

and plays us the final air while

we are leaving. A father on his

death-bed names some husband for

his daughter, who is his sole heir;

but we care little for his will or for

the shell so solemnly placed over

the seal; we give the young maiden

to him who has best known how

to secure our wavour. Name me another

duty that is so important and so irresponsible.

BDELYCLEON

Aye, it’s a fine privilege, and the

only one on which I can congratulate you;

but surely to violate the will is to

act badly towards the heiress.

PHILOCLEON

And if the Senate and the people have

trouble in deciding some important case,

it is decreed to send the culprits before

the Heliasts; then Euathlus and the

illustrious Colaconymus, who cast away

his shield, swear not to betray us and

to fight for the people. Did ever an orator

carry the day with his opinion if he had

not first declared that the jury should

be dismissed for the day as soon as they

had given their first verdict? We are the

only ones whom Cleon, the great bawler,

does not badger. On the contrary, he protects

and caresses us; he keeps off the flies,

which is what you have never done

for your father. Theorus, who is a man

not less illustrious than Euphemius,

takes the sponge out of the pot and

blacks our shoes. See then what good things

you deprive and despoil me of. Pray,

is this obeying or being a slave,

as you pretended to be able to prove?

BDELYCLEON

Talk away to your heart’s content;

you must come to a stop at last and

then you shall see that this grand power

only resembles an anus; no matter

how much you wash it, you can never get it clean.

PHILOCLEON

But I am forgetting the most

pleasing thing of all. When I return

home with my pay, everyone runs to

greet me because of my money.

First my daughter bathes me, anoints

my feet, stoops to kiss me and,

while she is calling me “her dearest father,”

fishes out my triobolus with her tongue;

then my little wife comes to wheedle

me and brings a nice light cake;

she sits beside me and entreats me

in a thousand ways, “Do take this now;

do have some more.” All this delights

me hugely, and I have no need to turn

towards you or the steward to know

when it shall please him to serve my

dinner, all the while cursing and grumbling.

But if he does not quickly knead my cake,

I have something which is my defence,

my shield against all ills. If you do not

pour me out drink, I have brought this

long-eared jar full of wine. How it brays,

when I bend back and bury its

neck in my mouth! It farts like a

whole army, and how I laugh at

your wine-skins. (With increasing excitement)

As to power, am I not equal

to the king of the gods?

If our assembly is noisy, all say as

they pass, “Great gods! the tribunal

is rolling out its thunder!” If I let loose

the lightning, the richest, aye, the noblest

are half dead with terror and crap for fright.

You yourself are afraid of me, yea,

by Demeter! you are afraid. But may

I die if you frighten me.

CHORUS (singing)

Never have I heard speech so

elegant or so sensible.

PHILOCLEON

Ah! he thought he had only

to turn me round his finger;

he should, however have known

the vigour of my eloquence.

CHORUS (singing)

He has said everything without omission.

I felt myself grow taller while I listened to him.

Methought myself meting out

justice in the Islands of the Blest,

so much was I taken with the charm of his words.

BDELYCLEON

How overjoyed they are!

What extravagant delight! Ah!

ah! you are going to get a thrashing to-day.

CHORUS (singing)

Come, plot everything you can to beat him;

‘tis not easy to soften me if you

do no talk on my side.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

If you have nothing but nonsense

to spout, it’s time to buy a good millstone,

freshly cut withal, to crush my anger.

BDELYCLEON

The cure of a disease, so inveterate

and so widespread in Athens, is a difficult

task and of too great importance for the

scope of comedy. Nevertheless, my old father….

PHILOCLEON

Cease to call me by that name, for,

if you do not prove me a slave and that

quickly too, you must die by my hand, even if

I must be deprived of my share in the sacred feasts.

BDELYCLEON

Listen to me, dear little father,

unruffle that frowning brow and reckon,

you can do so without trouble,

not with pebbles, but on your fingers,

what is the sum-total of the tribute paid

by the allied towns; besides this we

have the direct imposts, a mass of

percentage dues, the fees of the courts

of justice, the produce from the mines,

the markets, the harbours, tile public lands

and the confiscations. All these together

amount to nearly two thousand talents.

Take from this sum the annual pay of

the dicasts; they number six thousand,

and there have never been more in this town;

so therefore it is one hundred and fifty

talents that come to you.

PHILOCLEON

What! our pay is not even a tithe

of the state revenue?

BDELYCLEON

Why no, certainly not.

PHILOCLEON

And where does the rest go then?

BDELYCLEON

To those who say: “I shall never betray

the interests of the masses; I shall

always fight for the people.” And it is you,

father, who let yourself be caught with

their fine talk, who give them all

power over yourself. They are the men

who extort fifty talents at a time by

threat and intimidation from the allies.

“Pay tribute to me,” they say, “or

I shall loose the lightning on you-town

and destroy it.” And you, you are content

to gnaw the crumbs of your own might.

What do the allies do? They see that the

Athenian mob lives on the tribunal in

niggard and miserable fashion, and they

count you for nothing, for not more than

the vote of Connus; it is on those wretches

that they lavish everything, dishes of

salt fish, wine, tapestries, cheese, honey,

chaplets, necklets, drinking-cups, all that

yields pleasure and health. And you, their

master, to you as a reward for all your toil

both on land and sea, nothing is given,

not even a clove of garlic to eat with your little fish.

PHILOCLEON

No, undoubtedly not; I have had to

send and buy some from Eucharides.

But you told me I was a slave. Prove it then,

for I am dying with impatience.

BDELYCLEON

Is it not the worst of all slaveries to

see all these wretches and their flatterers,

whom they gorge with gold, at the

head of affairs? As for you, you are

content with the three obols which they

give you and which you have so painfully

earned in the galleys, in battles and sieges.

But what I stomach least is that you

go to sit on the tribunal by order.

Some young fairy, the son of Chaereas, to wit,

enters your house wiggling his arse,

foul with debauchery, on his straddling

legs and charges you to come and judge

at daybreak, and precisely to the minute.

“He who presents himself after the opening

of the Court,” says he, “will not get the

triobolus.” But he himself, though he arrives late,

will nevertheless get his drachma as a

public advocate. If an accused man makes

him some present, he shares it with a

colleague and the pair agree to arrange the

matter like two sawyers, one of whom pulls

and the other pushes. As for you, you have

only eyes for the public pay-clerk,

and you see nothing.

PHILOCLEON

Can it be I am treated thus? Oh!

what is it you are saying? You stir me

to the bottom of my heart! I am all ears!

I cannot express what I feel.

BDELYCLEON

Consider then; you might be rich,

both you and all the others; I know

not why you let yourself be fooled by

these folk who call themselves the

people’s friends. A myriad of towns obey you,

from the Euxine to Sardis. What do

you gain thereby? Nothing but this miserable pay,

and even that is like the oil with which

the flock of wool is impregnated and

is doled to you drop by drop, just enough

to keep you from dying of hunger.

They want you to be poor, and I will

tell you why. It is so that you may

know only those who nourish you, and

so that, if it pleases them to loose you

against one of their foes, you shall

leap upon him with fury. If they wished

to assure the well-being of the people,

nothing would be easier for them.

We have now a thousand towns that

pay us tribute; let them comand each

of these to feed twenty Athenians;

then twenty thousand of our citizens

would be eating nothing but hare,

would drink nothing but the purest of milk,

and always crowned with garlands,

would be enjoying the delights to which

the great name of their country and

the trophies of Marathon give them the right;

whereas to-day you are like the hired

labourers who gather the olives;

you follow him who pays you.

PHILOCLEON

Alas! my hand is benumbed;

I can no longer draw my sword.

What has become of my strength?

BDELYCLEON

When they are afraid, they promise

to divide Euboea among you and to

give each fifty bushels of wheat,

but what have they given you?

Nothing excepting, quite recently,

five bushels of barley, and even these

you have only obtained with great

difficulty, on proving you were not aliens,

and then choenix by choenix.

(With increasing excitement) That is why I

always kept you shut in; I wanted you

to be fed by me and no longer at the

beck of these blustering braggarts.

Even now I am ready to let you have

all you want, provided you no longer

let yourself be suckled by the payclerk.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS (to BDELYCLEON)

He was right who said, “Decide nothing

till you have heard both sides,”

for now it seems to me that you are

the one who gains the complete victory.

My wrath is appeased and I throw

away my sticks. (To PHILOCLEON)

But, you, our comrade and contemporary….

FIRST SEMI-CHORUS (taking this up in song)

…. let yourself be won over by his words;

come, be not too obstinate or too perverse.

Would that I had a relative or kinsman

to correct me thus! Clearly some god

is at hand and is now protecting you and

loading you with benefits. Accept them.

BDELYCLEON

I will feed him, I will give him everything

that is suitable for an old man; oatmeal

gruel, a cloak, soft furs, and a wench to

rub his tool and his loins. But he keeps

silent and will not utter a sound;

that’s a bad sign.

SECOND SEMI-CHORUS (singing)

He has thought the thing over and has

recognized his folly; he is reproaching

himself for not having followed your

advice always. But there he is, converted

by your words, and wiser now, so that

he will no doubt alter his ways in the

future and always believe in none but you.

PHILOCLEON

Alas! alas!

BDELYCLEON

Now why this lamentation?

PHILOCLEON (in tragic style)

A truce to your promises! What I love

is down there, down there I want to be,

there, where the herald cries,

“Who has not yet voted? Let him rise!”

I want to be the last of all to leave the urn.

Oh, my soul, my soul! where art thou?

come! oh! dark shadows, make way for me!

By Heracles, may I reach the court in

time to convict Cleon of theft.

BDELYCLEON

Come, father, in the name of the gods,

believe me!

PHILOCLEON

Believe you! Ask me anything,

anything, except one.

BDELYCLEON

What is it? Let us hear.

PHILOCLEON

Not to judge any more! Before I consent,

I shall have appeared before Pluto.

BDELYCLEON

Very well then, since you find so much

pleasure in it, go down there no more,

but stay here and deal out justice to your slaves.

PHILOCLEON

But what is there to judge? Are you mad?

BDELYCLEON

Everything as in a tribunal. If a servant

opens a door secretly, you inflict upon

him a simple fine; that’s what you

have repeatedly done down there.

Everything can be arranged to suit you.

If it is warm in the morning, you can judge

in the sunlight; if it is snowing, then seated

at your fire; if it rains, you go indoors;

and if you don’t rise till noon, there will

be no Thesmothetes to exclude

you from the precincts.

PHILOCLEON

The notion pleases me.

BDELYCLEON

Moreover, if a pleader is long-winded,

you will not be hungering and chafing and

seeking vengeance on the accused.

PHILOCLEON

But could I judge as well with my mouth full?

BDELYCLEON

Much better. Is it not said, that the dicasts,

when deceived by lying witnesses,

have need to ruminate well in

order to arrive at the truth?

PHILOCLEON

Well said, but you have not told me yet

who will pay my salary.

BDELYCLEON

I will.

PHILOCLEON

So much the better; in this way I

shall be paid by myself. Because that

damned jester, Lysistratus, played me

an infamous trick the other day.

He received a drachma for the two of us

and went on the fish-market to get it

changed and then brought me back three

mullet scales. I took them for obols and

crammed them into my mouth; but the

smell choked me and I quickly spat them out.

So I dragged him before the court.

BDELYCLEON

And what did he say to that?

PHILOCLEON

Well, he pretended I had the stomach

of a cock. “You have soon digested

the money,” he said with a laugh.

BDELYCLEON

You see, that is yet another advantage.

PHILOCLEON

And no small one either.

Come, do as you will.

BDELYCLEON

Wait! I will bring everything here.

(He goes into the house.)

PHILOCLEON (to himself)

You see, the oracles are coming true;

I have heard it foretold, that one day

the Athenians would dispense justice

in their own houses, that each citizen.

would have himself a little tribunal

constructed in his porch similar to

the altars of Hecate, and that there would

be such before every door.

BDELYCLEON (returning with slaves

who are carrying various objects)

There, what do you think of that?

I have brought you everything needful and

much more into the bargain. See, here is

a thunder-mug in case you have to pee;

I shall hang it up beside you.

PHILOCLEON

Good idea! Right useful at my age.

You have found the true alleviation

of bladder troubles.

BDELYCLEON

Here is a fire, and near to it are lentils,

should you want to have a bite to eat.

PHILOCLEON

That’s admirably arranged. In this way,

even when feverish, I shall nevertheless

receive my pay; and besides, I could eat

my lentils without quitting my seat. But why this cock?

BDELYCLEON

So that, should you doze during some

pleading, he may awaken you

by crowing up there.

PHILOCLEON

I want only for one thing more;

all the rest is as good as can be.

BDELYCLEON

What is that?

PHILOCLEON

If only they could bring me an

image of the hero Lycus.

BDELYCLEON

Here it is! Why, you might think

it was the god himself!

PHILOCLEON

Oh! hero, my master I how repulsive

you are to look at I

BDELYCLEON

He looks just like Cleonymus.

PHILOCLEON

That is why, hero though he be,

he has no weapon.

BDELYCLEON

The sooner you take your seat,

the sooner I shall call a case.

PHILOCLEON

Call it, for I have been seated ever so long.

BDELYCLEON

Let us see. What case shall we bring up first?

Is there a slave who has done

something wrong? Ah! you Thracian there,

you burnt the stew-pot the other day.

PHILOCLEON

Wait, wait! This is a fine state of affairs!

You almost made me judge without a bar,

and that is the most sacred thing of all for us.

BDELYCLEON

There isn’t any, by Zeus.

PHILOCLEON

I’ll run indoors and get one myself. (Exit)

BDELYCLEON

What does it matter? Terrible thing,

the force of habit.

XANTHIAS (coming out of the house)

Damn that animal! How can

anyone keep such a dog?

BDELYCLEON

Hullo! what’s the matter?

XANTHIAS

Oh, it’s Labes, who has just rushed

into the kitchen and seized a whole

Sicilian cheese and gobbled it up.

BDELYCLEON

Good! this will be the first offence I

shall make my father try. (To XANTHIAS)

Come along and lay your accusation.

XANTHIAS

No, not I; the other dog vows he will

be accuser, if the matter is brought up for trial.

BDELYCLEON

Well then, bring them both along.

XANTHIAS

That’s what we’ll have to do.

(He goes hack into the house. A moment

later PHILOCLEON comes out.)

BDELYCLEON

What is this?

PHILOCLEON

The pig-trough of the swine

dedicated to Hestia.

BDELYCLEON

Did you steal it from a shrine?

PHILOCLEON

No, no, by addressing Hestia first,

I might, thanks to her, crush an

adversary. But put an end to delay

by calling up the case. My verdict

is already settled.

BDELYCLEON

Wait! I still have to bring out the

tablets and the scrolls. (He goes into the house.)

PHILOCLEON

Oh! I am boiling, I am dying with

impatience at your delays. I could have traced

the sentence in the dust.

BDELYCLEON (coming out with

tablets and scrolls)

There you are.

PHILOCLEON

Then call the case.

BDELYCLEON

Right. Who is first on the docket?

PHILOCLEON

My god! This is unbearable!

I have forgotten the urns.

BDELYCLEON

Now where are you going?

PHILOCLEON

To look for the urns.

BDELYCLEON

Don’t bother, I have these pots.

PHILOCLEON

Very well, then we have all we need,

except the clepsydra.

BDELYCLEON (pointing to the thunder-mug)

What is this if it is not a clepsydra?

PHILOCLEON

You know how to supply everything.

BDELYCLEON

Let fire be brought quickly from

the house with myrtle boughs and incense,

and let us invoke the gods before opening the sitting.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Offer them libations and your vows and

we will thank them that a noble

agreement has put an end to your bickerings

and strife. And first let there be a sacred silence.

CHORUS (singing)

Oh! god of Delphi! oh! Phoebus Apollo!

convert into the greatest blessing for us

all what is now happening before this house,

and cure us of our error, oh, Paean, our helper!

BDELYCLEON (solemnly)

Oh, Powerful god, Apollo Aguieus,

who watchest at the door of my entrance hall,

accept this fresh sacrifice; I offer it that

you may deign to soften my father’s

excessive severity; he is as hard as iron,

his heart is like sour wine; do thou pour

into it a little honey. Let him become gentle

toward other men, let him take more

interest in the accused than in the accusers,

may he allow himself to be softened

by entreaties; calm his acrid humour

and deprive his irritable mind of all sting.

CHORUS (singing)

We unite our vows and chants to those

of this new magistrate. His words

have won our favour and we are

convinced that he loves the people

more than any of the young men

of the present day. (XANTHIAS brings

in two persons costumed as dogs,

but with masks that suggest Laches and Cleon.)

BDELYCLEON

If there be any judge near at hand,

let him enter; once the proceedings

have opened, we shall admit him no more.

PHILOCLEON

Who is the defendant?

BDELYCLEON

This one.

PHILOCLEON (aside)

He does not stand a chance.

BDELYCLEON

Listen to the indictment. A dog of Cydathenaea

doth hereby charge Labes of Aexonia

with having devoured a Sicilian cheese

by himself without accomplices.

Penalty demanded, a collar of fig-tree wood.

PHILOCLEON

Nay, a dog’s death, if convicted.

BDELYCLEON

This is Labes, the defendant.

PHILOCLEON

Oh! what a wretched brute! how

entirely he looks the rogue! He thinks to

deceive me by keeping his jaws closed.

Where is the plaintiff, the dog of Cydathenaea?

DOG

Bow wow! bow wow!

BDELYCLEON

Here he is.

PHILOCLEON

Why, he’s another Labes, a great barker

and a licker of dishes.

BDELYCLEON (as Herald)

Silence! Keep your seats! (To the Cydathenaean dog.)

And you, up on your feet and accuse him.

PHILOCLEON

Go on, and I will help myself and

eat these lentils.

DOG

Gentlemen of the jury, listen to this indictment

I have drawn up. He has committed the

blackest of crimes, against both me and

the seamen. He sought refuge in a dark

corner to glutton on a big Sicilian cheese,

with which he sated his hunger.

PHILOCLEON

Why, the crime is clear; the filthy brute

this very moment belched forth a horrible

odour of cheese right under my nose.

DOG

And he refused to share with me.

And yet can anyone style himself

your benefactor, when he does not cast

a morsel to your poor dog?

PHILOCLEON

He has not shared anything,

not even with his comrade.

His madness is as hot as my lentils.

BDELYCLEON

In the name of the gods, father!

No hurried verdict without hearing

the other side!

PHILOCLEON

But the evidence is plain; the

fact speaks for itself.

DOG

Then beware of acquitting the most

selfish of canine gluttons, who has

devoured the whole cheese, rind and all,

prowling round the platter.

PHILOCLEON

There is not even enough left for me to

fill up the chinks in my pitcher.

DOG

Besides, you must punish him, because

the same house cannot keep two thieves.

Let me not have barked in vain,

else I shall never bark again.

PHILOCLEON

Oh! the black deeds he has just denounced!

What a shameless thief! Say, cock,

is not that your opinion too? Ha, ha!

He thinks as I do. Here, Thesmothetes!

where are you? Hand me the thunder-mug.

BDELYCLEON

Get it yourself. I go to call the witnesses;

these are a plate, a pestle, a cheese knife,

a brazier, a stew-pot and other

half-burnt utensils. (To PHILOCLEON)

But you have not finished?

you are piddling away still!

Have done and be seated.

PHILOCLEON

Ha, ha! I reckon I know somebody

who will crap for fright to-day.

BDELYCLEON

Will you never cease showing yourself

hard and intractable, and especially to

the accused? You tear them to pieces tooth and nail.

(To LABES) Come forward and defend yourself.

What means this silence?

Answer.

PHILOCLEON

No doubt he has nothing to say.

BDELYCLEON

Not at all, I think he has got what

happened once to Thucydides in court;

his jaws suddenly set fast. Get away!

I will undertake your defence.-Gentlemen

of the jury, it is a difficult thing to speak

for a dog who has been calumniated,

but nevertheless I will try. He is a good dog,

and he chases wolves finely.

PHILOCLEON

He is a thief and a conspirator.

BDELYCLEON

No, he is the best of all our dogs;

he is capable of guarding a whole flock.

PHILOCLEON

And what good is that,

if he eats the cheese?

BDELYCLEON

What? he fights for you, he guards

your door; he is an excellent dog in

every respect. Forgive him his larceny!

he is wretchedly ignorant, he cannot play the lyre.

PHILOCLEON

I wish he did not know how to write either;

then the rascal would not have

drawn up his pleadings.

BDELYCLEON

Witnesses, I pray you, listen.

Come forward, grating-knife, and speak up;

answer me clearly. You were paymaster

at the time. Did you grate out to the

soldiers what was given you?-He says he did so.

PHILOCLEON

But, by Zeus! he lies.

BDELYCLEON

Oh! have patience. Take pity on the unfortunate.

Labes feeds only on fish-bones and

fishes’ heads and has not an

instant of peace. The other is good only

to guard the house; he never moves from here,

but demands his share of all that is

brought in and bites those who refuse.

PHILOCLEON (aside)

Oh! Heaven! have I fallen ill?

I feel my anger cooling! Woe to me!

I am softening!

BDELYCLEON

Have pity, father, pity, I adjure you;

you would not have him dead.

Where are his puppies? (A group of

children costumed as puppies comes out.)

Come, poor little beasties, yap, up on

your haunches, beg and whine!

PHILOCLEON

Descend, descend, descend, descend!

BDELYCLEON

I will descend, although that word,

“descend,” has too often raised false hope.

None the less, I will descend.

PHILOCLEON

Plague seize it! Have I then

done wrong to eat! What! I, crying! Ah!

I certainly should not be weeping,

if I were not stuffed with lentils.

BDELYCLEON

Then he is acquitted?

PHILOCLEON

It is difficult to tell.

BDELYCLEON

Ah! my dear father, be good! be humane!

Take this voting pebble and rush with

your eyes closed to that second

urn and, father, acquit him.

PHILOCLEON

No, I know no more how to acquit

than to play the lyre.

BDELYCLEON

Come quickly, I will show you the way.

(He takes his father by the hand

and leads him to the second urn.)

PHILOCLEON

Is this the first urn?

BDELYCLEON

Yes.

PHILOCLEON (dropping in his vote)

Then I have voted.

BDELYCLEON (aside)

I have fooled him and he has

acquitted in spite of himself.

(To PHILOCLEON) Come,

I will turn out the urns.

PHILOCLEON

What is the result?

BDELYCLEON

We shall see. (He examines both urns.)

Labes, you stand acquitted.

(PHILOCLEON faints)

Eh! father, what’s the matter,

what is it? (To slaves) Water! water!

(To PHILOCLEON) Pull yourself together, sir!

PHILOCLEON (weakly)

Tell me! Is he really acquitted?

BDELYCLEON

Yes, certainly.

PHILOCLEON (falling back)

Then it’s all over with me!

BDELYCLEON

Courage, dear father, don’t let

this afflict you so terribly.

PHILOCLEON (dolefully)

And so I have charged my conscience

with the acquittal of an accused being!

What will become of me?

Sacred gods! forgive me. I did it despite myself;

it is not in my character.

BDELYCLEON

Do not vex yourself, father; I will

feed you well, will take you everywhere

to eat and drink with me; you shall

go to every feast; henceforth your life

shall be nothing but pleasure, and

Hyperbolus shall no longer have

you for a tool. But come, let us go in.

PHILOCLEON (resignedly)

So be it; if you will, let us go in.

(They all go into the house.)

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Go where it pleases you and

may your happiness be great.

(The CHORUS turns and faces the audience.)

You meanwhile, oh! countless myriads,

listen to the sound counsels I am going

to give you and take care they

are not lost upon you. That would

be the fate of vulgar spectators,

not that of such an audience.

Hence, people, lend me your ear,

if you love frank speaking.

The poet has a reproach to make

against his audience; he says you

have ill-treated him in return for the

many services he has rendered you.

At first he kept himself in the

background and lent help secretly

to other poets, and like the prophetic

Genius, who hid himself in the belly

of Eurycles, slipped within the spirit

of another and whispered to him

many a comic hit. Later he ran the

risks of the theatre on his own account,

with his face uncovered, and dared to

guide his Muse unaided. Though

overladen with success and honours

more than any of your poets, indeed

despite all his glory, he does not yet

believe he has attained his goal;

his heart is not swollen with pride and

he does not seek to seduce the young

folk in the wrestling school. If any lover

runs up to him to complain because he is

furious at seeing the object of his passion

derided on the stage, he takes

no heed of such reproaches, for he is

inspired only with honest motives and

his Muse is no pander. From the very

outset of his dramatic career he has

disdained to assail those who were men,

but with a courage worthy of Heracles

himself he attacked the most formidable

monsters, and at the beginning went

straight for that beast with the sharp teeth,

with the terrible eyes that flashed

lambent fire like those of Cynna,

surrounded by a hundred lewd flatterers

who spittle-licked him to his heart’s

content; he had a voice like a

roaring torrent, the stench of a seal,

the unwashed balls of a Lamia,

and the arse of a camel. Our poet

did not tremble at the sight of this

horrible monster, nor did he dream

of gaining him over; and again this

very day he is fighting for your good.

Last year besides, he attacked those pale,

shivering and feverish beings who

strangled your fathers in the dark,

throttled your grandfathers, and who,

lying in the beds of the most inoffensive,

piled up against them lawsuits, summonses

and witnesses to such an extent,

that many of them flew in terror to

the Polemarch for refuge. Such is the

champion you have found to purify your

country of all its evil, and last year you

betrayed him, when he sowed the most

novel ideas, which, however, did not

strike root, because you did not understand

their value; notwithstanding this,

he swears by Bacchus, the while offering

him libations, that none ever heard

better comic verses. It is a disgrace to you

not to have caught their drift at once; as

for the poet, he is none the less appreciated

by the enlightened judges. He shivered his

oars in rushing boldly forward to board his foe.

(With increasing excitement) But in future,

my dear fellow-citizens, love and honour

more those of your poets who seek to imagine

and express some new thought. Make their

ideas your own, keep them in your caskets

like sweet-scented fruit. If you do, your clothing

will emit an odour of wisdom the

whole year through.

FIRST SEMI-CHORUS (singing)

Ah, once long ago we were brave in the dance,

brave too in battle, and on this account

alone the most courageous of men!

That was formerly, was formerly; all that

is gone now and these hairs of ours are

whiter than the swan. But from what is

left we must rekindle a youthful ardour;

really we prefer our old age to the curly

hair and the fine clothes and the effeminacy

of many of the young.

LEADER OF THE FIRST SEMI-CHORUS

Should any among you spectators look

upon me with wonder, because of this

wasp waist, or not know the meaning

of this sting, I will soon dispel his ignorance.

We, who wear this appendage,

are the true Attic men, who alone are noble

and native to the soil, the bravest

of all people. We are the ones who,

weapon in hand, did so much for the country,

when the barbarian shed torrents of fire

and smoke over our city in his relentless

desire to seize our nests by force.

At once we ran up, armed with lance

and buckler, and, drunk with the bitter

wine of anger, we gave them battle,

man standing to man and rage distorting

our lips. A hail of arrows hid the sky.

However, by the help of the gods,

we drove off the foe to, wards evening.

Before the battle an owl had flown

over our army. Then we pursued them

with our lance-point in their loins as one

hunts the tunny-fish; they fled and we

stung them in the jaw and in the eyes,

so that even now the barbarians tell each

other that there is nothing in the world

more to be feared than the Attic wasp.

SECOND SEMI-CHORUS (singing)

Oh! at that time I was terrible,

I feared nothing; forth on my galleys

I went in search of my foe and subjected him.

Then we never thought of rounding fine

phrases, we never dreamt of calumny;

it was who should prove the strongest rower.

And thus we took many a town from the

Medes, and ‘tis to us that Athens owes

the tributes that our young men thieve to-day.

LEADER OF THE SECOND SEMI-CHORUS

Look well at us, and you will see that

we have all the character and habits of

the wasp. Firstly, if roused, no beings

are more irascible, more relentless than

we are. In all other things, too, we act

like wasps. We collect in swarms,

in a kind of nests, and some go judging

with the Archon, some with the Eleven,

others at the Odeon; there are yet others,

who hardly move at all, like the grubs

in the cells, but remain glued to the walls,

and bent double to the ground.

We also pay full attention to the discovery

of all sorts of means of existing and

sting the first who comes, so as to live

at his expense. Finally, we have among

us drones, who have no sting and who,

without giving themselves the least trouble,

seize on our revenues as they flow

past them and devour them.

It’s this that grieves us most of all,

to see men who have never served or

held either lance or oar in defence of

their country, enriching themselves at

our expense without ever raising a blister

on their hands. In short, I give it as my

deliberate opinion that in future every

citizen not possessed of a sting shall

not receive the triobolus.

(PRILOCLEON comes out of the house,

followed by his son and a slave.

The CHORUS turns to face them.)

PHILOCLEON

As long as I live, I will never give

up this cloak; it’s the one I wore in

that battle when Boreas delivered

us from such fierce attacks.

BDELYCLEON

You do not know what is good for you.

PHILOCLEON

Ah! I do not know how to use fine clothing!

The other day, when cramming

myself with fried fish, I dropped so

many grease spots that I had to pay

three obols to the cleaner.

BDELYCLEON

At least have a try, since you have once

for all handed the care for your

well-being over to me.

PHILOCLEON

Very well then! what must I do?

BDELYCLEON

Take off your cloak, and put on

this tunic in its stead.

PHILOCLEON

Was it worth while to beget and bring

up children, so that this one should

now wish to choke me?

BDELYCLEON

Come, take this tunic and put it

on without so much talk.

PHILOCLEON

Great gods! what sort of a

cursed garment is this?

BDELYCLEON

Some call it a pelisse, others a

Persian cloak.

PHILOCLEON

Ah! I thought it was a wraprascal

like those made at Thymaetis.

BDELYCLEON

No wonder. It’s only at Sardis you could

have seen them, and you have never been there.

PHILOCLEON

Of course not, but it seems to me

exactly like the mantle

Morychus sports.

BDELYCLEON

Not at all; I tell you they

are woven at Ecbatana.

PHILOCLEON

What! are there woollen ox-guts

then at Ecbatana?

BDELYCLEON

Whatever are you talking about?

These are woven by the barbarians

at great cost. I am certain this pelisse

has consumed more than a talent of wool.

PHILOCLEON

It should be called wool-waster

then instead of pelisse.

BDELYCLEON

Come, father, just hold still for

a moment and put it on.

PHILOCLEON

Oh! horrors! what a waft of heat

the hussy sends up my nose!

BDELYCLEON

Will you have done with this fooling?

PHILOCLEON

No by Zeus.

BDELYCLEON

But good sir….

PHILOCLEON

If need be, I prefer you should

put me in the oven.

BDELYCLEON

Come, I will put it round you. There!

PHILOCLEON

At all events, bring out a crook.

BDELYCLEON

Why, whatever for?

PHILOCLEON

To drag me out of it before I

am quite melted.

BDELYCLEON

Now take off those wretched clogs

and put on these nice

Laconian slippers.

PHILOCLEON

I put on odious slippers made

by our foes! Never

BDELYCLEON

Come! put your foot in and

push hard. Quick!

PHILOCLEON

You’re doing wrong here.

You want me to put my foot on

Laconian ground.

BDELYCLEON

Now the other.

PHILOCLEON

Ah! no, not that foot; one of its toes

holds the Laconians in horror

BDELYCLEON

Positively you must.

PHILOCLEON

Alas! alas! Then I shall have no chilblains

in my old age.

BDELYCLEON

Now, hurry up and get them on; and now

imitate the easy effeminate gait of the rich.

See, like this. (He takes a few steps.)

PHILOCLEON

(trying to do likewise) There!….

Look at my get-up and tell me which rich man

I most resemble in my walk.

BDELYCLEON

Why, you look like a garlic plaster on a boil.

PHILOCLEON

Ah! I am longing to swagger and

sway my arse about.

BDELYCLEON

Now, will you know how to talk gravely

with well-informed men of good class?

PHILOCLEON

Undoubtedly.

BDELYCLEON

What will you say to them?

PHILOCLEON

Oh, lots of things. First of all I shall say,

that Lamia, seeing herself caught,

let flee a fart; then, that Cardopion and his mother….

BDELYCLEON

Come, no fabulous tales, pray! talk of realities,

of domestic facts, as is usually done.

PHILOCLEON

Ah! I know something that is indeed

most domestic. Once upon a time there

was a rat and a cat….

BDELYCLEON

“Oh, you ignorant fool,” as Theagenes

said to the dung-gatherer in a rage.

Are you going to talk of cats and rats

among high-class people?

PHILOCLEON

Then what should I talk about?

BDELYCLEON

Tell some dignified story. Relate how you

were sent on a solemn mission with

Androcles and Clisthenes.

PHILOCLEON

On a mission! never in my life, except

once to Paros, a job which brought

me in two obols a day.

BDELYCLEON

At least say, that you have just seen

Ephudion doing well in the pancratium

with Ascondas and, that despite his age

and his white hair, he is still robust in

loin and arm and flank and that his

chest is a very breast-plate.

PHILOCLEON

Stop! stop! what nonsense!

Who ever contested at the pancratium

with a breast-plate on?

BDELYCLEON

That is how well-behaved folk like to talk.

But another thing. When at wine,

it would be fitting to relate some good story

of your youthful days. What is your most brilliant feat?

PHILOCLEON

My best feat? Ah! when I stole Ergasion’s vine-props.

BDELYCLEON

You and your vine-props! you’ll be

the death of me! Tell of one of your boar-hunts

or of when you coursed the hare.

Talk about some torch-race you were in;

tell of some deed of daring.

PHILOCLEON

Ah! my most daring dee, was when,

quite a young man still, I prosecuted

Phayllus, the runner, for defamation,

and he was condemded by majority

of two votes.

BDELYCLEON

Enough of that! Now recline there, and practise

the bearing that is fitting at table in society.

PHILOCLEON

How must I recline? Tell me quick!

BDELYCLEON

In an elegant style.

PHILOCLEON (lying on the ground)

Like this?

BDELYCLEON

Not at all.

PHILOCLEON

How then?

BDELYCLEON

Spread your knees on the tapestries

and give your body the most easy curves,

like those taught in the gymnasium.

Then praise some bronze vase, survey

the ceiling, admire the awning stretched

over the court. Water is poured over our hands;

the tables are spread; we sup and, after

ablution, we now offer libations to the gods.

PHILOCLEON

But, by Zeus! this supper is but a dream, it appears!

BDELYCLEON

The flute-player has finished the prelude.

The guests are Theorus, Aeschines,

Phanus, Cleon, Acestor; and beside

this last, I don’t know who else.

You are with them. Shall you know exactly

how to take up the songs that are started?

PHILOCLEON

Quite well.

BDELYCLEON

Really?

PHILOCLEON

Better than any born mountaineer of Attica.

BDELYCLEON

That we shall see. Suppose me to

be Cleon. I am the first to begin the

song of Harmodius, and you take it up:

“There never yet was seen in Athens….

PHILOCLEON

….such a rogue or such a thief.”

BDELYCLEON

Why, you wretched man, it will be

the end of you if you sing that.

He will vow your ruin, your destruction,

to chase you out of the country.

PHILOCLEON

Well! then I shall answer his threats

with another song: “With your madness

for supreme power, you will end by

overthrowing the city, which even now

totters towards ruin.”

BDELYCLEON

And when Theorus, prone at Cleon’s

feet, takes his hand and sings,

“Like Admetus, love those who are brave,”

what reply will you make him?

PHILOCLEON

I shall sing, “I know not how to play the fox,

nor call myself the friend of both parties.”

BDELYCLEON

Then comes the turn of Aeschines,

the son of Sellus, and a well-trained

and clever musician, who will sing,

“Good things and riches for Clitagora

and me and eke for the Thessalians!”

PHILOCLEON

“The two of us have squandered

a great deal between us.”

BDELYCLEON

At this game you seem at home.

But come, we will go and dine with

Philoctemon.-Slave! slave! place

our dinner in a basket; we are going

out for a good long drinking bout.

PHILOCLEON

By no means, it is too dangerous; for

after drinking, one breaks in doors,

one comes to blows, one batters everything.

Anon, when the wine is slept off,

one is forced to pay.

ELYCLEON

Not if you are with decent people.

Either they undertake to appease the

offended person or, better still,

you say something witty, you tell some

comic story, perhaps one of those you

have yourself heard at table, either in

Aesop’s style or in that of Sybaris;

everyone laughs and the trouble is ended.

PHILOCLEON

Faith! it’s worth while learning many

stories then, if you are thus not punished

for the ill you do. But come, no more delay!

(They go out.)

CHORUS (singing)

More than once have I given proof

of cunning and never of stupidity,

but how much more clever is Amynias,

the son of Sellus and of the race of

forelock-wearers; him we saw one day

coming to dine with Leogaras, bringing

as his share one apple and a pomegranate,

and bear in mind he was as hungry as

Antiphon. He went on an embassy to

Pharsalus, and there he lived solely

among the Thessalian mercenaries;

indeed, is he not the vilest of mercenaries himself?

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Oh! blessed, oh! fortunate Automenes,

how enviable is your fortune!

You have three sons, the most industrious

in the world; one is the friend of all,

a very able man, the first among the

lyre-players, the favourite of the Graces.

The second is an actor, and his talent

is beyond all praise. As for Ariphrades,

he is by far the most gifted; his father

would swear to me, that without any

master whatever and solely through the

spontaneous effort of his happy nature,

he taught himself to exercise his tongue

in the whorehouses, where he spends

the whole of his time.

Some have said that I and Cleon were

reconciled. This is the truth of the matter:

Cleon was harassing me, persecuting

and belabouring me in every way; and,

when I was being fleeced, the public

laughed at seeing me uttering such

loud cries; not that they cared about me,

but simply curious to know whether,

when trodden down by my enemy,

I would not hurl at him some taunt.

Noticing this, I have played the wheedler a bit;

but now, look! the prop is deceiving the vine!

(XANTHIAS enters, weeping and

wailing and rubbing his sides.)

XANTHIAS

Oh! tortoises! happy to have so

hard a skin! Oh! creatures full of sense!

what a happy thought to cover your

bodies with this shell, which shields it

from blows! As for me, I can no longer move;

the stick has so belaboured my body.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Why, what’s the matter, my child?

for, old as he may be, one has the right

to call anyone a child who has let himself be beaten.

XANTHIAS

Alas! my master is really the worst

of all plagues. He was the most drunk

of all the guests, and yet among them

were Hippyllus, Antiphon, Lycon, Lysistratus,

Theophrastus and Phrynichus. But he was

hundred times more insolent than any.

As soon as he had stuffed himself with

a host of good dishes, he began to leap

and spring, to laugh and to fart like a

little ass well stuffed with barley.

Then he set to beating me with all his heart,

shouting, “Slave! slave!” Lysistratus,

as soon as he saw him, let fly this

comparison at him. “Old fellow,” said he,

“you resemble one of the scum

assuming the airs of a rich man

or a stupid ass that has broken

loose from its stable.” “As for you,”

bawled the other at the top of his voice,

“you are like a grasshopper, whose

cloak is worn to the thread, or like

Sthenelus after his clothes had been sold.”

All applauded excepting Theophrastus,

who made a grimace as behoved a

well-bred man like him. The old man

called to him, “Hi! tell me then what

you have to be proud of? Not so much

mouthing, you, who so well know how

to play the buffoon and to lick-spittle

the rich!” In this way he insulted each

in turn with the grossest of jests, and he

reeled off a thousand of the most absurd

and ridiculous speeches. At last, when he

was thoroughly drunk, he started towards

here, striking everyone he met. Wait,

here he comes reeling along. I will be

off for fear of his blows.

(PHILOCLEON enters,inebriated and

hilarious, carrying a torch; his other

hand is occupied with a wholly nude flute-girl;

he is followed by a group of angry

victims of his exuberance.)

PHILOCLEON (singing)

Halt! and let everyone begone, or I shall

do an evil turn to some of those who insist

on following me. Clear off, rascals,

or I shall roast you with this torch!

GUEST

We shall all make you smart to-morrow

for your youthful pranks. We shall come

in a body to summon you to justice.

PHILOCLEON (singing)

Ho! ho! summon me? what old

women’s babble! Know that I can

no longer bear to hear even the name

of suits. Ha! ha! ha! this is what

pleases me, “Down with the urns!”

Get out of here! Down with the

dicasts! away with them, away with them!

(Dropping into speech; to the flute-girl)

Mount up there, my little gilded

cock-chafer; take hold of this rope’s

end in your hand. Hold it tight,

but have a care; the rope’s a bit old

and worn. But even though it’s worn,

it still has its virtues. Do you see how

opportunely I got you away from the

solicitations of those fellators, who wanted

you to make love to them in their own

odd way? You therefore owe me this

return to gratify me. But will you pay

the debt? Oh! I know well you will

not even try; you will play with me,

you will laugh heartily at me as you

have done at many another man.

And yet, if you would not be a naughty girl,

I would redeem you, when my son is

dead, and you should be my concubine,

my little one. At present I am not my

own master; I am very young and

am watched very closely. My dear son

never lets me out of his sight; he’s an

unbearable creature, who would quarter a

thread and skin a flint; he is afraid I

should get lost, for I am his only father.

But here he comes running towards us.

But be quick, don’t stir, hold these torches.

I am going to play him a young man’s

trick, the same as he played me before

I was initiated into the mysteries.

BDELYCLEON

Oh! oh! you debauched old dotard!

you are amorous, it seems, of pretty

baggages; but, by Apollo, it shall

not be with impunity!

PHILOCLEON

Ah! you would be very glad to eat a

lawsuit in vinegar, you would.

BDELYCLEON

Only a rascal would steal the flute-girl

away from the other guests.

PHILOCLEON

What flute-girl? Are you distraught,

as if you had just returned from Pluto?

BDELYCLEON

By Zeus! But here is the Dardanian

wench in person.

PHILOCLEON

Nonsense. This is a torch that I have

lit in the public square in honour of the gods.

BDELYCLEON

Is this a torch?

PHILOCLEON

A torch? Certainly. Do you not see it

is of several different colours?

DELYCLEON

And what is that black part in the middle?

PHILOCLEON

That’s the pitch running out while it burns.

BDELYCLEON

And there, on the other side, surely

that is a girl’s bottom?

PHILOCLEON

No. That’s just a small bit of the torch,

that projects.

BDELYCLEON

What do you mean? what bit? Hi!

you woman! come here!

PHILOCLEON

Oh! What do you want to do?

BDELYCLEON

To take her away from you and lead her off.

You are too much worn out and can do nothing.

(He takes the girl into the house.)

PHILOCLEON

Listen to me! One day, at Olympia,

I saw Euphudion boxing bravely against Ascondas;

he was already aged, and yet with a

blow from his fist he knocked down his

young opponent. So watch out that

I don’t blacken your eves.

BDELYCLEON (who has returned)

By Zeus! you have Olympia at your finger-ends!

(A BAKER’S WIFE enters with an

empty basket; she brings CHAEREPHON

with her as witness.)

BAKER’S WIFE (to CHAEREPHON)

Come to my help, I beg you, in the

name of the gods! This cursed man,

when striking out right and left with his torch,

knocked over ten loaves worth an

obolus apiece, and then, to cap

the deal, four others.

BDELYCLEON

Do you see what lawsuits you are

drawing upon yourself with your drunkenness?

You will have to plead.

PHILOCLEON

Oh, no, no! a little pretty talk and pleasant

tales will soon settle the matter and

reconcile her with me. Not so, by the

goddesses twain! It shall not be said that

you have with impunity spoilt the wares

of Myrtia, the daughter of Ancylion and Sostrate.

PHILOCLEON

Listen, woman, I wish to tell you

a lovely anecdote.

BAKER’S WIFE

By Zeus, no anecdotes for me, thank you.

PHILOCLEON

One night Aesop was going out to supper.

A drunken bitch had the impudence

to bark near him. Aesop said to her,

“Oh, bitch, bitch! you would do well to

sell your wicked tongue and buy some wheat.”

BAKER’S WIFE

You make a mock of me! Very well!

I don’t care who you are, I shall summons

you before the market inspectors for

damage done to my business. Chaerephon

here shall be my witness.

PHILOCLEON

But just listen, here’s another will perhaps

please you better. Lasus and Simonides

were contesting against each other for

the singing prize. Lasus said, “Damned if I care.”

BAKER’S WIFE

Ah! really, did he now!

PHILOCLEON

As for you, Chaerephon, can you be

witness to this woman, who looks as

pale and tragic as Ino when she throws

herself from her rock…at the feet of Euripides?

(The BAKER’S WIFE and CHAEREPHON depart.)

BDELYCLEON

Here, I suppose, comes another to

summons you; he has his witness too.

Ah! unhappy indeed we are!

(A badly bruised man enters.)

ACCUSER

I summons you, old man, for outrage.

BDELYCLEON

For outrage? Oh! in the name of the gods,

do not summons him! I will be answerable

for him; name the price and I will be

more more grateful still.

PHILOCLEON

I ask for nothing better than to be reconciled

with him; for I admit I struck him

and threw stones at him. So, first

come here. Will you leave it in my hands

to name the indemnity I must pay, if

I promise you my friendship as well,

or will you fix it yourself?

ACCUSER

Fix it; I like neither lawsuits nor disputes.

PHILOCLEON

A man of Sybaris fell from his chariot

and wounded his head most severely;

he was a very poor driver. One of his

friends came up to him and said,

“Every man to his trade.” Well then, go you

to Pittalus to get mended.

BDELYCLEON

You are incorrigible.

ACCUSER (to his witness)

At all events, make a note of his reply.

(They start to leave.)

PHILOCLEON

Listen, instead of going off so abruptly.

A woman at Sybaris broke a box.

ACCUSER (to his witness)

I again ask you to witness this.

PHILOCLEON

The box therefore had the fact attested,

but the woman said, “Never worry about

witnessing the matter, but hurry off to buy

a cord to tie it together with; that will

be the more sensible course.”

ACCUSER

Oh! go on with your ribaldry until the

Archon calls the case.

(He and his witness depart.)

BDELYCLEON (to PHILOCLEON)

By Demeter! you’ll stay here no longer!

I am going to take you and carry you off.

PHILOCLEON

And what for?

BDELYCLEON

What for? I am going to carry you into

the house, so that the accusers will

not run out of witnesses.

PHILOCLEON

One day at Delphi, Aesop….

BDELYCLEON

I don’t care a fig for that.

PHILOCLEON

….was accused of having stolen a

sacred vase. But he replied, that the horn-beetle….

BDELYCLEON

Oh, dear, dear! You’ll drive me crazy

with your horn-beetle.

(PHILOCLEON goes on with his fable

while BDELYCLEON is carrying him

off the scene by main force.)

CHORUS (singing)

I envy you your happiness, old man.

What a contrast to his former frugal

habits and his very hard life! Taught now

in quite another school, he will know

nothing but the pleasures of ease.

Perhaps he will jibe at it, for indeed it

is difficult to renounce what has become

one’s second nature. However, many

have done it, and adopting the ideas of

others, have changed their use and wont.

As for Philocleon’s son, I, like all wise

and judicious men, cannot sufficiently

praise his filial tenderness and his tact.

Never have I met a more amiable nature,

and I have conceived the greatest

fondness for him. How he triumphed on

every point in his discussion with his

father, when he wanted to bring him back

to more worthy and honourable tastes!

XANTHIAS (coming out of the house)

By Bacchus! Some Evil Genius has brought

this unbearable disorder into our house.

The old man, full up with wine and excited

by the sound of the flute, is so delighted,

so enraptured, that he is spending the night

executing the old dances that Thespis first

produced on the stage, and just now he

offered to prove to the modern tragedians,

by disputing with them for the dancing prize,

that they are nothing but a lot of old dotards.

(BDELYCLEON comes out of the house with

his father who is costumed as POLYPHEMUS

in Euripides’ Cyclops.)

PHILOCLEON

“Who loiters at the door of the vestibule?”

XANTHIAS

Here comes our pest, our plague!

PHILOCLEON

Let down the barriers. The dance is now to begin.

(He begins to dance in a manner grotesquely

parodying that of Euripides.)

XANTHIAS

Or rather the madness.

PHILOCLEON

Impetuous movement already

twists and racks my sides. How my

nostrils wheeze! how my back cracks!

XANTHIAS

Go and fill yourself with hellebore.

PHILOCLEON

Phrynichus is as bold as a cock and

terrifies his rivals.

XANTHIAS

He’ll be stoned.

PHILOCLEON

His leg kicks out sky-high….

XANTHIAS

….and his arse gapes open.

PHILOCLEON

Mind your own business. Look how easily

my leg-joints move. Isn’t that good?

XANTHIAS

God, no, it’s merely insane!

PHILOCLEON

And now I summon and challenge my rivals.

It there be a tragic poet who pretends to

be a skilful dancer, let him come and

contest the matter with me. Is there one?

Is there not one?

XANTHIAS

Here comes one, and one only.

(A very small dancer, costumed as a crab, enters.)

PHILOCLEON

Who is the wretch?

XANTHIAS

The younger son of Carcinus.

PHILOCLEON

I will crush him to nothing;

in point of keeping time, I will knock

him out, for he knows nothing of rhythm.

XANTHIAS

Ah! ah! here comes his brother too,

another tragedian, and another son of Carcinus.

(Another dancer, hardly larger than the first,

and similarly costumed, enters.)

PHILOCLEON

Him I will devour for my dinner.

XANTHIAS

Oh! ye gods! I see nothing but crabs.

Here is yet another son of Carcinus.

(A third dancer enters, likewise resembling a crab,

but smaller than either of the others.)

PHILOCLEON

What’s this? A shrimp or a spider?

XANTHIAS

It’s a crab,-a hermit-crab, the smallest of its kind;

it writes tragedies.

PHILOCLEON

Oh! Carcinus, how proud you should be

of your brood! What a crowd of kinglets

have come swooping down here! But we shall

have to measure ourselves against them.

Have marinade prepared for seasoning them,

in case I prove the victor.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Let us stand out of the way a little,

so that they may twirl at their ease.

CHORUS (It divides in two and accompanies

with its song the wild dancing of

PHILOCLEON and the sons of CARCINUS

in the centre of the Orchestra.)

Come, illustrious children of this

inhabitant of the brine, brothers of the

shrimps, skip on the sand and the shore

of the barren sea; show us the lightning

whirls and twirls of your nimble limbs.

Glorious offspring of Phrynichus,

let fly your kicks, so that the spectators

may be overjoyed at seeing your legs

so high in air. Twist, twirl, tap your

bellies, kick your legs to the sky.

Here comes your famous father, the ruler

of the sea, delighted to see his three

lecherous kinglets. Go on with your dancing,

if it pleases you, but as for us, we shall

not join you. Lead us promptly off the

stage, for never a comedy yet was seen

where the Chorus finished off with a dance.

THE END