Delphi Complete Works of Aristophanes (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics) (59 page)

SECOND CITIZEN. Oh! bah! you don’t mean that.

FIRST CITIZEN. Certainly.

SECOND CITIZEN. Oh! Zeus the Deliverer! you unfortunate man!

FIRST CITIZEN. Why?

SECOND CITIZEN. Why? ’Tis as clear as noonday.

FIRST CITIZEN. Must the laws not be obeyed then?

SECOND CITIZEN. What laws, you poor fellow?

FIRST CITIZEN. Those that have been decreed.

SECOND CITIZEN. Decreed! Are you mad, I ask you?

FIRST CITIZEN. Am I mad?

SECOND CITIZEN. Oh! this is the height of folly!

FIRST CITIZEN. Because I obey the law? Is that not the first duty of an honest man?

SECOND CITIZEN. Say rather of a ninny.

FIRST CITIZEN. Don’t you propose taking what belongs to you to the common stock?

SECOND CITIZEN. I’ll take good care I don’t until I see what the majority are doing.

FIRST CITIZEN. There’s but one opinion, namely, to contribute every single thing one has.

SECOND CITIZEN. I am waiting to see it, before I believe that.

FIRST CITIZEN. At least, so they say in every street.

SECOND CITIZEN. And they will go on saying so.

FIRST CITIZEN. Everyone talks of contributing all he has.

SECOND CITIZEN. And will go on talking of it.

FIRST CITIZEN. You weary me with your doubts and dubitations.

SECOND CITIZEN. Everybody else will doubt it.

FIRST CITIZEN. The pest seize you!

SECOND CITIZEN. It
will
take you. What? give up your goods! Is there a man of sense who will do such a thing? Giving is not one of our customs. Receiving is another matter; ’tis the way of the gods themselves. Look at the position of their hands on their statues; when we ask a favour, they present their hands turned palm up so as not to give, but to receive.

FIRST CITIZEN. Wretch, let me do what is right. Come, I’ll make a bundle of all these things. Where is my strap?

SECOND CITIZEN. Are you really going to carry them in?

FIRST CITIZEN. Undoubtedly, and there are my three tripods strung together already.

SECOND CITIZEN. What folly! Not to wait to see what the others do, and then …

FIRST CITIZEN. Well, and then what?

SECOND CITIZEN. … wait and put it off again.

FIRST CITIZEN. What for?

SECOND CITIZEN. That an earthquake may come or an ill-omened flash of lightning, that a weasel may run across the street and that none carry in anything more, you fool!

FIRST CITIZEN. ’Twould be a fine matter, were I to find no room left for placing all this.

SECOND CITIZEN. You are much more likely to lose your stuff. As for placing it, you can be at ease, for there will be room enough as long as a month hence.

FIRST CITIZEN. Why?

SECOND CITIZEN. I know these folk; a decree is soon passed, but it is not so easily attended to.

FIRST CITIZEN. All will contribute their property, my friend.

SECOND CITIZEN. But what if they don’t?

FIRST CITIZEN. But there is no doubt that they will.

SECOND CITIZEN. But
anyhow
, what if they don’t?

FIRST CITIZEN. We shall compel them to do so.

SECOND CITIZEN. And what if they prove the stronger?

FIRST CITIZEN. I shall leave my goods and go off.

SECOND CITIZEN. And what if they sell them for you?

FIRST CITIZEN. The plague take you!

SECOND CITIZEN. And if it does?

FIRST CITIZEN. ‘Twill be a good riddance.

SECOND CITIZEN. You are bent on contributing then?

FIRST CITIZEN. ‘Pon my soul, yes! Look, there are all my neighbours carrying in all they have.

SECOND CITIZEN. Ha, ha! ’Tis no doubt Antisthenes. He’s a fellow who would rather sit on his pot for thirty days than not!

FIRST CITIZEN. The pest seize you!

SECOND CITIZEN. And perhaps Callimachus is going to take in more money than Callias owns? That man want to ruin himself!

FIRST CITIZEN. How you weary me!

SECOND CITIZEN. Ah! I weary you! But, wretch, see what comes of decrees of this kind. Don’t you remember the one reducing the price of salt, eh?

FIRST CITIZEN. Why, certainly I do.

SECOND CITIZEN. And do you remember that about the copper coinage?

FIRST CITIZEN. Ah! that cursed money did me enough harm. I had sold my grapes and had my mouth stuffed with pieces of copper; indeed I was going to the market to buy flour, and was in the act of holding out my bag wide open, when the herald started shouting, “Let none in future accept pieces of copper; those of silver are alone current.”

SECOND CITIZEN. And quite lately, were we not all swearing that the impost of one-fortieth, which Euripides had conceived, would bring five talents to the State, and everyone was vaunting Euripides to the skies? But when the thing was looked at closely, it was seen that this fine decree was mere moonshine and would produce nothing, and you would have willingly burnt this very same Euripides alive.

FIRST CITIZEN. The cases are quite different, my good fellow. We were the rulers then, but now ’tis the women.

SECOND CITIZEN. Whom, by Posidon, I will never allow to piss on my nose.

FIRST CITIZEN. I don’t know what the devil you’re chattering about.
Slave, pick up that bundle.

HERALD. Let all citizens come, let them hasten at our leader’s bidding! ’Tis the new law. The lot will teach each citizen where he is to dine; the tables are already laid and loaded with the most exquisite dishes; the couches are covered with the softest of cushions; the wine and water is already being mixed in the ewers; the slaves are standing in a row and waiting to pour scent over the guests; the fish is being grilled, the hares are on the spit and the cakes are being kneaded, chaplets are being plaited and the fritters are frying; the youngest women are watching the pea-soup in the saucepans, and in the midst of them all stands Smaeus, dressed as a knight, washing the crockery. And Geres has come, dressed in a grand tunic and finely shod; he is joking with another young fellow and has already divested himself of his heavy shoes and his cloak. The pantryman is waiting, so come and use your jaws.

SECOND CITIZEN. Aye, I’ll go. Why should I delay, since the Republic commands me?

FIRST CITIZEN. And where are you going to, since you have not deposited your belongings?

SECOND CITIZEN. To the feast.

FIRST CITIZEN. If the women have any wits, they will first insist on your depositing your goods.

SECOND CITIZEN. But I am going to deposit them.

FIRST CITIZEN. When?

SECOND CITIZEN. I am not the man to make delays.

FIRST CITIZEN. How do you mean?

SECOND CITIZEN. There will be many less eager than I.

FIRST CITIZEN. In the meantime you are going to dine.

SECOND CITIZEN. What else should I do? Every sensible man must give his help to the State.

FIRST CITIZEN. But if admission is forbidden you?

SECOND CITIZEN. I shall duck my head and slip in.

FIRST CITIZEN. And if the women have you beaten?

SECOND CITIZEN. I shall summon them.

FIRST CITIZEN. And if they laugh you in the face?

SECOND CITIZEN. I shall stand near the door …

FIRST CITIZEN. And then?

SECOND CITIZEN. … and seize upon the dishes as they pass.

FIRST CITIZEN. Then go there, but after me. Sicon and Parmeno, pick up all the baggage.

SECOND CITIZEN. Come, I will help you carry it.

FIRST CITIZEN. No, no, I should be afraid of your pretending to the leader that what I am depositing belonged to you.

SECOND CITIZEN. Let me see! let me think of some good trick by which I can keep my goods and yet take my share of the common feast. Ha! that’s a good notion! Quick! I’ll go and dine, ha, ha! [
Exit laughing
.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. How is this? no men are coming? And yet it must be fully time! ’Tis then for naught that I have painted myself with white lead, dressed myself in my beautiful yellow robe, and that I am here, frolicking and humming between my teeth to attract some passer-by! Oh, Muses, alight upon my lips, inspire me with some soft Ionian love-song!

A YOUNG GIRL. You rotten old thing, you have placed yourself at the window before me. You were expecting to strip my vines during my absence and to trap some man in your snares with your songs. If you sing, I shall follow suit; all this singing will weary the spectators, but is nevertheless very pleasant and very diverting.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Ha! here is an old man; take him and lead him away. As for you, you young flute-player, let us hear some airs that are worthy of you and me. Let him who wishes to taste pleasure come to my side. These young things know nothing about it; ’tis only the women of ripe age who understand the art of love, and no one could know how to fondle the lover who possessed me so well as myself; the young girls are all flightiness.

YOUNG GIRL. Don’t be jealous of the young girls; voluptuousness resides in the pure outline of their beautiful limbs and blossoms on their rounded bosoms; but you, old woman, you who are tricked out and perfumed as if for your own funeral, are an object of love only for grim Death himself.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. May your hole be stopped; may you be unable to find your couch when you want to be fucked. And on your couch, when your lips seek a lover, may you embrace only a viper!

YOUNG GIRL. Alas! alas! what is to become of me? There is no lover! I am left here alone; my mother has gone out and the rest care little for me. Oh! my dear nurse, I adjure you to call Orthagoras, and may heaven bless you.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Ah! poor child, desire is consuming you like an Ionian woman; I think you are no stranger to the wanton arts of the Lesbian women, but you shall not rob me of my pleasures; you will not be able to reduce or filch the time that first belongs to me, for your own gain. Sing as much as you please, peep out like a cat lying in wait, but none shall pass through your door without first having been to see me.

YOUNG GIRL. If anyone enter your house, ‘twill be to carry out your corpse.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. That’s new to me.

YOUNG GIRL. What! you rotten wretch, can anything be new to an old hag like you?

FIRST OLD WOMAN. My old age will not harm you.

YOUNG GIRL. Ah! shame on your painted cheeks!

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Why do you speak to me at all?

YOUNG GIRL. And why do you place yourself at the window?

FIRST OLD WOMAN. I am singing to myself about my lover, Epigenes.

YOUNG GIRL. Can you have any other lover than that old fop Geres?

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Epigenes will show you that himself, for he is coming to me. See, here he is.

YOUNG GIRL. He’s not thinking of you in the least, you old witch.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Aye, but he is, you little pest.

YOUNG GIRL. Let’s see what he will do. I will leave my window.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. And I likewise. You will see I am not far wrong.

A YOUNG MAN. Ah! could I but sleep with the young girl without first satisfying the old flat-nose! ’Tis intolerable for a free-born man.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Willy nilly, you must first gratify my desire. There shall be no nonsense about that, for my authority is the law and the law must be obeyed in a democracy. But come, let me hide, to see what he’s going to do.

YOUNG MAN. Ah! ye gods, if I were to find the sweet child alone! for the wine has fired my lust.

YOUNG GIRL. I have tricked that cursed old wretch; she has left her window, thinking I would stay at home.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Ah! here is the lover we were talking of. This way, my love, this way, come here and haste to rest the whole night in my arms. I worship your lovely curly hair; I am consumed with ardent desire. Oh! Eros, in thy mercy, compel him to my bed.

YOUNG MAN
(standing beneath the young girl’s window and singing)
. Come down and haste to open the door unless you want to see me fall dead with desire. Dearest treasure, I am burning to yield myself to most voluptuous sport, lying on your bosom, to let my hands play with your buttocks. Aphrodité, why dost thou fire me with such delight in her? Oh! Eros, I beseech thee, have mercy and make her share my couch. Words cannot express the tortures I am suffering. Oh! my adored one, I adjure you, open your door for me and press me to your heart; ’tis for you that I am suffering. Oh! my jewel, my idol, you child of Aphrodité, the confidante of the Muses, the sister of the Graces, you living picture of Voluptuousness, oh! open for me, press me to your heart, ’tis for you that I am suffering.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Are you knocking? Is it I you seek?

YOUNG MAN. What an idea!

FIRST OLD WOMAN. But you were tapping at the door.

YOUNG MAN. Death would be sweeter.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Why do you come with that torch in your hand?

YOUNG MAN. I am looking for a man from Anaphlystia.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. What’s his name?

YOUNG MAN. Oh! ’tis not Sebinus, whom no doubt you are expecting.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. By Aphrodité, you
must
, whether you like it or not.

YOUNG MAN. We are not now concerned with cases dated sixty years back; they are remanded for a later day; we are dealing only with those of less than twenty.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. That was under the old order of things, sweetheart, but now you must first busy yourself with us.

YOUNG MAN. Aye,
if I want to
, according to the rules of draughts, where we may either take or leave.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. But ’tis not according to the rules of draughts that you take your seat at the banquet.

YOUNG MAN. I don’t know what you mean; ’tis at this door I want to knock.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Not before knocking at mine first.

YOUNG MAN. For the moment I really have no need for old leather.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. I know that you love me; perhaps you are surprised to find me at the door. But come, let me kiss you.

YOUNG MAN. No, no, my dear, I am afraid of your lover.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Of whom?

YOUNG MAN. The most gifted of painters.

FIRST OLD WOMAN. Why, whom do you mean to speak of?

YOUNG MAN. The artist who paints the little bottles on coffins. But get you indoors, lest he should find you at the door.