whose life is a span, Protracted with sorrow from day to day, Naked and featherless, feeble and querulous, Sickly calamitous
creatures
of clay !
Universal Anthology - v04
Dost thou exult, Woman, upon my lord's calamities ?
Chorus —
An alien I, I chant glad outland strain, Who cower no more in terror of the chain.
Messenger —
Deemest thou Thebes so void of men [that ills Have left her powerless all to punish thee ? ]
Chorus —
Dionysus it 'tis the King of the Vine
That hath lordship o'er me, no Thebes of thine
Messenger
This might be pardoned, save that base Women, to joy o'er evils past recall.
Chorus —
Tell to me, tell, — by what doom died he, The villain devising villainy
Messenger —
When, from the homesteads of this Theban land Departing, we had crossed Asopus' streams,
Then we began to breast Kithairon's steep,
Pentheus and — for to my lord clave, —
And he who ushered us unto the scene.
First in grassy dell we sat us down
With footfall hushed and tongues refrained from speech. That so we might behold, all unbeheld.
a
I,
is,
? I
it is,
!
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS. 87
There was a glen crag-walled, with rills o'erstreamed, Closed in with pine shade, where the Maenad girls Sat with hands busied with their blithesome toils. The faded thyrsus some with ivy sprays
Twined, till its tendril tresses waved again.
Others, like colts from carven wain yokes loosed,
Reechoed each to each the Bacchic chant.
But hapless Pentheus, seeing ill the throng
Of women, spake thus : " Stranger, where we stand,
Are these mock-maenad maids beyond my ken.
Some knoll or pine high-crested let me climb,
And I shall see the Maenads' lewdness well. "
A marvel then I saw the stranger do.
A soaring pine branch by the top he caught,
And dragged down — down — still down to the dark earth. Arched as a bow it grew, or curving wheel
That on the lathe sweeps out its circle's round :
So bowed the stranger's hands that mountain branch,
And bent to earth — a deed past mortal might !
Then Pentheus on the pine boughs seated he,
And let the branch rise, sliding through his hands
Gently, with heedful care to unseat him not.
High up into the heights of air it soared,
Bearing my master throned upon its crest,
More by the Maenads seen than seeing them.
For scarce high-lifted was he manifest,
When lo, the stranger might no more be seen ;
And fell from heaven a voice — the voice, most like,
Of Dionysus, — crying : " O ye maids,
I bring him who would mock at you and me, "
And at my rites. Take vengeance on him ye !
Even as he cried, up heavenward, down to earth,
He flashed a pillar splendor of awful flame.
Hushed was the welkin : that fair grassy glen
Held hushed its leaves ; no wild thing's cry was heard. But they, whose ears not clearly caught the sound,
Sprang up, and shot keen glances right and left.
Again he cried his hest : then Kadmus' daughters
Knew certainly the Bacchic God's command,
And darted : and the swiftness of their feet
Was as of doves in onward-straining race —
His mother Agave' and her sisters twain,
And all the Bacchanals. Through torrent gorge,
O'er bowlders, leapt they, with the God's breath mad. When seated on the pine they saw my lord,
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
First torrent stones with might and main they hurled, Scaling a rock, their counter bastion,
And javelined him with branches of the pine :
And others shot their thyrsi through the air
At Pentheus — woeful mark ! — yet naught availed.
For, at a height above their fury's pitch,
Trapped in despair's gin, horror-struck he sat.
Last, oak limbs from their trunks they thundered down, And heaved at the roots with levers — not of iron.
But when they won no end of toil and strain,
Agav8 cried, "Ho, stand we round the trunk,
Maenads, and grasp, that we may catch the beast Crouched there, that he may"not proclaim abroad
Our God's mysterious rites ! Their countless hands Set they unto the pine, tore from the soil : —
And he, high-seated, crashed down from his height : And earthward fell with frenzy of shriek on shriek Pentheus, for now he knew his doom at hand.
His mother first, priestlike, began the slaughter, And fell on him : but from his hair the coif
He tore, that she might know and slay him not, — Hapless Agave' ! — and he touched her cheek, Crying, "'Tis I — 0 mother! — thine own son Pentheus — thou bar'st me in Echion's halls !
Have mercy, 0 my mother ! — for my sin
Murder not thou thy son — thy very son ! "
But she, with foaming lips and eyes that rolled Wildly, and reckless madness-clouded soul, Possessed of Bacchus, gave no heed to him ;
But his left arm she clutched in both her hands, And set against the wretch's ribs her foot,
And tore his shoulder out — not by her strength, But the God made it easy to her hands.
And Ino labored on the other side,
Rending his flesh: AutonoS pressed on — all
The Bacchanal throng. One awful blended cry
Rose — the king's screams while life was yet in him, And triumph yells from them. One bare an arm, One a foot sandal-shod. His ribs were stripped
In mangled shreds : with blood-bedabbled hands Each to and fro was tossing Pentheus' flesh.
Wide-sundered lies his corse : part 'neath rough rocks, Part mid the tangled depths of forest shades : —
Hard were the search. His miserable head
Which in her hands his mother chanced to seize,
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS. 39
Impaled upon her thyrsus point she bears,
Like mountain lion's, through Kithairon's mid Leaving her sisters in their Maenad dance ;
And, in her ghastly quarry exulting, comes Within these walls, to Bacchus crying aloud,
Her fellow-hunter, helper in the chase Triumphant — all its triumph-prize is tears! . . .
Enter Agave, carrying the head of Pentheus.
Agav6 —
Asian Bacchanals !
Chorus — Why dost thou challenge me ? — say. Agave —
Chorus —
Of Kadmus —
Lo, from the mountain side I bear A newly severed ivy spray
Unto our halls, a goodly prey.
Chorus —
I see — to our revels I welcome thee.
Agave —
I trapped him, I, with never a snare !
'Tis a lion — the whelp of a lion, plain to see.
Chorus —
Where in the wilderness, where ?
Kithairon —
Chorus — What hath Kithairon wrought ?
Him hath Kithairon to slaughter brought. Chorus —
Who was it smote him first ?
Agav6 — Mine, mine is the guerdon.
Their revel rout singeth me — " Happy Agave' ! " their
burden. Chorus —
Who then ? Agav6 —
Agav6 —
His daughter after me smote the monster fell — After me ! 0 fortunate hunting ! Is it not well ? Now share in the banquet ! —
Of Kadmus what wilt thou tell ?
Chorus — Alas ! wherein shall I share ?
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
Agave —
This whelp is yet but a tender thing,
And over its jaws yet sprouteth fair
The down 'neath the crest of its waving hair.
Chorus —
Yea, the hair of a beast of the wold might it be.
Agav6 —
Uproused was the Maenad gathering
To the chase, by a cunning hunter full cunningly.
Chorus —
Yea, a hunter is Bacchus our King.
Agav6 —
Dost thou praise me ?
Chorus — How can I choose but praise ?
Agav6 —
Ay, and full soon shall Kadmus' race
Chorus — — And Pentheus thy son
Agav6 —
Chorus — — Strange quarry !
And my son Pentheus where ? Let him upraise A ladder's stair against the palace wall,
That to the triglyphs he may nail this head, This lion's head that I from hunting bring.
Enter Kadmus, with Attendants carrying a bier.
Kadmus —
Follow me, henchmen, to the palace front ;
Follow me, bearing Pentheus' ghastly load,
Whose limbs by toilsome searchings manifold, About Kithairon's glens all rent apart
I found, and bring — no twain in one place found, But lying all about the trackless wood. . . .
Agavt —
My father, proudest boast is thine to make,
To have begotten daughters best by far
Of mortals — all thy daughters, chiefly me,
Me who left loom and shuttle, and pressed on
To high emprise, to hunt beasts with mine hands. And in mine arms I bring, thou seest, this
—
Agav6 —
Yea, I shall have praise of my scion For the prey that is taken, even this whelp of a lion.
And strangely taken. . . . Where is mine ancient sire ? Let him draw near.
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
The prize I took, against thy palace wall
To hang : receive father, in thine hands. And now, triumphant in mine hunting's spoil, Bid to feast thy friends for blest art thou, Blest verily, since we have achieved such deeds.
Kadmus —
anguish measureless that blasts the sight murder compassed by those wretched hands
Fair victim this to cast before the Gods,
And bid to such banquet Thebes and me
Woe for our sorrows — first for thine, then minel How hath the God, King Bromius, ruined us — Just stroke — yet ruthless — he not our kin
Agav6 —
How sour of mood graybeard eld in men,
How sullen-eyed Framed in his mother's mold A mighty hunter may my son become,
When with the Theban youths he speedeth forth Questing the quarry — But he can do naught Save war with Gods Father, our part
To warn him not to joy in baneful wisdom. Where he Who will call him hitherward
To see me, and behold mine happiness
Kadmus —
Alas when ye are ware what ye have done, With sore grief shall ye grieve If to life's end Ye should abide on aye in this your state,
Ye should not, though unblest, seem all accurst
AgavQ —
What not well here — what that calls for grief
Kadmus —
First cast thou up thine eye to yonder heaven.
Agave —
Lo, so do. Why bid me look thereon
Kadmus — Seems
Agav6 — Brighter
the same Or hath changed to thee
—
Kadmus —
Is this delirium tossing yet thy soul
more clear than heretofore.
Agav6 —
This comprehend not: yet — yet — passes, My late mood — am coming to myself.
Kadmus —
Canst hearken aught then Clearly canst reply
?
it
?
? ?
?
it it
I is
!
is
O0
a
is
?
II! a
? is ! ! !
it, ;
it ! ?
is
?
?
it
is ! !
! ?
!
42
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
Agave —
Our words late-spoken — father, I forget them.
Kadmus —
To what house earnest thou with bridal hymns ?
Agave — Echion's
—
of the Dragon seed, men say.
— — in thine halls, to thy lord
born of my union with his sire.
Kadmus —
Thou barest
whom ?
Agave — — Pentheus
Kadmus — Whose
—
—
art thou bearing in thine
head arms?
whose?
Agave — — A lion's
Agave —
Ah-h! what do Isee? Whatbear Iinminehands?
Kadmus —
Gaze, gaze on and be thou certified.
so said they which hunted it.
Kadmus —
Look well thereon : small trouble this, to look.
Agave — — see
mine uttermost anguish Woe me! to thee now like lion's head
Kadmus — Seems
Agave — — No —
wretched
—
wretched
—
Pentheus'
head hold
Kadmus
Of me bewailed ere recognized of thee.
Agave —
Who murdered him How came he to mine hands
Kadmus —
piteous truth that so untimely dawns
Agave — Speak
Agave —
How to Kithairon went this hapless one
Kadmus — — Thou!
Hard my heart beats, waiting for its doom. thou, and those thy sisters murdered him.
Agave —
Where perished he
—
at home, or in what place
Kadmus —
There, where Aktaion erst by hounds was torn.
Kadmus —
To mock the God and thy wild rites he went.
?
0 !
I !
? ! ? is
?
I ?
! ?
it
it,
a !
!
!
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
43
Agavi —
But we — for what cause thither journeyed we ?
Kadmus —
Ye were distraught : all Thebes went Bacchant-wild.
Agav6 —
Dionysus ruined us !
I
see it now.
Kadmus —
Ye flouted him, would not believe him God.
Agav6 —
Where, father, is my son's beloved corse ?
Kadmus —
Here do I bear by hard searching found.
Agave —
Is —all meetly fitted limb to limb
Kadmus —now add thereto this dear-loved [Yea
head. ]
AgavG —
But — in my folly what was Pentheus' part
Kadmus —
He was as ye, revering not the God,
Who therefore in one mischief whelmed you all, You, and this prince, so ruining all our house
And me, who had no man child of mine own,
Who see now, wretched daughter, this the fruit Of thy womb horribly and foully slain.
To thee our house looked up, son, the stay
Of mine old halls my daughter's offspring thou, Thou wast the city's dread was none dared mock The old man, none that turned his eyes on thee,
gallant head — thou hadst well requited him. Now from mine halls shall in shame be cast — Kadmus the great, who sowed the seed of Thebes, And reaped the goodliest harvest of the world.
best beloved — for, though thou be no more,
Thou shalt be counted best beloved, child,
Thou who shalt fondle never more my head,
Nor clasp and call me " Mother's father," child,
Crying, "Who wrongs thee, ancient? — flouts thee who? Who vexeth thee to trouble thine heart's peace
Speak, that may chastise the wrong, my sire. " Now am anguish-stricken, wretched thou, Woeful thy mother, and her sisters wretched
If any man there be that scorns the Gods,
This man's death let him note, and so believe.
II
! !
I
it,
!
?
?
00
I O
:
0
;
it
?
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES. Women.
the " Thesmophoriazusae " : translated by W. Lucas Collins. )
They're always abusing the women, As a terrible plague to men ;
They say we're the root of all evil, And repeat it again and again ;
Of war and quarrel and bloodshed, All mischief, be what it may :
And pray then why do you marry us, If we're all the plagues you say ?
And why do you take such care of us, And keep us safe at home,
And are never easy a moment If ever we chance to roam ?
When you ought to be thanking heaven That your Plague is out of the way,
You all keep fussing and fretting — Where is my Plague to-day ?
If a Plague peeps out of the window, Up go the eyes of the men ;
If she hides, then they all keep staring Until she looks out again.
of the Clouds.
(From "The Clouds" : translated by Andrew Lang. )
Immortal Clouds from the echoing shore
Of the father of streams from the sounding sea,
Dewy and fleet, let us rise and soar ; Dewy and gleaming and fleet are we !
Let us look on the tree-clad mountain crest,
On the sacred earth where the fruits rejoice,
On the waters that murmur east and west,
On the tumbling sea with his moaning voice,
For unwearied glitters the Eye of the Air, And the bright rays gleam;
Then cast we our shadows of mist, and fare
In our deathless shapes to glance everywhere
From the height of the heaven, on the land and air,
And the Ocean Stream.
Song
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES. 46
Let us on, ye Maidens that bring the Bain, Let us gaze on Pallas' citadel,
In the country of Cecrops fair and dear, The mystic land of the holy cell,
Where the Rites unspoken securely dwell,
And the gift of the gods that know not stain, And a people of mortals that know not fear.
For the temples tall and the statues fair,
And the feasts of the gods are holiest there ;
The feasts of Immortals, the chaplets of flowers,
And the Bromian mirth at the coming of spring, And the musical voices that fill the hours,
And the dancing feet of the maids that sing !
The Birds' Cosmology.
(From "The Birds " : translated by John Hookham Frere. )
Ye Children of Man !
whose life is a span, Protracted with sorrow from day to day, Naked and featherless, feeble and querulous, Sickly calamitous creatures of clay !
Attend to the words of the Sovereign Birds (Immortal, illustrious, lords of the air),
Who survey from on high, with a merciful eye, Your struggles of misery, labor, and care. Whence you may learn and clearly discern Such truths as attract your inquisitive turn; Which is busied of late with a mighty debate, A profound speculation about the creation,
And organical life, and chaotical strife,
With various notions of heavenly motions,
And rivers and oceans, and valleys and mountains, And sources of fountains, and meteors on high,
And stars in the sky. . . . We propose by and by
(If you'll listen and hear) to make it all clear.
And Prodicus henceforth shall pass for a dunce,
When his doubts are explained and expounded at once.
Before the creation of Ether and Light, Chaos and Night together were plight,
In the dungeon of Erebus foully bedight, Nor Ocean, or Air, or substance was there, Or solid or rare, or figure or form,
But horrible Tartarus ruled in the storm :
At length, in the dreary chaotical closet Of Erebus old, was a privy deposit,
--
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
By Night the primeval in secrecy laid —
A mystical egg, that in silence and shade
Was brooded and hatched, till time came about, And Love, the delightful, in glory flew out,
In rapture and light, exulting and bright, Sparkling and florid, with stars in his forehead, His forehead and hair, and a flutter and flare,
As he rose in the air, triumphantly furnished
To range his dominions on glittering pinions,
All golden and azure, and blooming and burnished:
He soon, in the murky Tartarean recesses, With a hurricane's might, in his fiery caresses Impregnated Chaos ; and hastily snatched
To being and life, begotten and hatched
The primitive Birds : but the Deities all,
The celestial Lights, the terrestrial Ball,
Were later of birth, with the dwellers on earth More tamely combined, of a temperate kind ; When chaotical mixture approached to a fixture.
Our antiquity proved ; it remains to be shown That Love is our author and master alone,
Like him we can ramble, and gambol and fly
O'er ocean and earth, and aloft to the sky ;
And all the world over, we're friends to the lover, And when other means fail, we are found to prevail, When a Peacock or Pheasant is sent as a present.
All lessons of primary daily concern
You have learned from the Birds, and continue to learn, Your best benefactors and early instructors ;
We give you the warning of seasons returning.
When the Cranes are arranged, and muster afloat
In the middle air, with a creaking note,
Steering away to the Libyan sands,
Then careful farmers sow their lands ;
The crazy vessel is hauled ashore,
The sail, the ropes, the rudder, and oar
Are all unshipped, and housed in store.
The shepherd is warned, by the Kite reappearing,
To muster his flock, and be ready for shearing,
You quit your old cloak at the Swallow's behest,
In assurance of summer, and purchase a vest.
For Delphi, for Ammon, Dodona, in fine
For every oracular temple and shrine,
The Birds are a substitute equal and fair,
For on us you depend, and to us you repair
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES. 47
For counsel and aid when a marriage is made, A purchase, a bargain, a venture in trade : Unlucky or lucky, whatever has struck ye, An ox or an ass that may happen to pass,
A voice in the street, or a slave that you meet,
A name or a word by chance overheard,
If you deem it an omen, you call it a Bird ;
And if birds are your omens, it clearly will follow, That birds are a proper prophetic Apollo.
Then take us as gods, and you'll soon find the odds, We'll serve for all uses, as prophets and muses ;
We'll give ye fine weather, we'll live here together ; We'll not keep away, scornful and proud, atop of a cloud (In Jupiter's way) ; but attend every day
To prosper and bless all you possess,
And all your affairs, for yourselves and your heirs. And as long as you live, we shall give
You wealth and health, and pleasure and treasure, In ample measure ;
And never bilk you of pigeon's milk
Or potable gold ; you shall live to grow old,
In laughter and mirth, on the face of the earth, Laughing, quaffing, carousing, boozing,
Your only distress shall be the excess
Of ease and abundance and happiness.
His Vindication.
(From "The Acharnians" : same translation. )
Our poet has never as yet Esteemed it proper or fit To detain you with a long, Encomiastic song,
On his own superior wit.
But being abused and accused,
And attacked of late,
As a foe to the state,
He makes an appeal in his proper defense
To your voluble humor and temper and sense, With the following plea :
Namely, that he
Never attempted or ever meant
To scandalize
In any wise
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
Your mighty imperial government.
Moreover he says,
That in various ways
He presumes to have merited honor and praise, Exhorting you still to stick to your rights,
And no more to be fooled with rhetorical nights; Such as of late each envoy tries
On the behalf of your allies,
That come to plead their cause before ye,
With fulsome phrase, and a foolish story Of violet crowns, and Athenian glory ; With " sumptuous Athens " at every word ; " Sumptuous Athens " is always heard,
" Sumptuous " ever ; a suitable phrase For a dish of meat or a beast at graze. He therefore affirms,
In confident terms,
That his active courage and earnest zeal Have usefully served your common weal : He has openly shown
The style and tone
Of your democracy ruling abroad.
He has placed its practices on record ;
The tyrannical arts, the knavish tricks, That poison all your politics.
Therefore we shall see, this year,
The allies with tribute arriving here,
Eager and anxious all to behold
Their steady protector, the bard so bold : The bard, they say, that has dared to speak, To attack the strong, to defend the weak. His fame in foreign climes is heard,
And a singular instance lately occurred.
It occurred in the case of the Persian king, Sifting and cross-examining
The Spartan envoys. He demanded
Which of the rival states commanded
The Grecian seas ? He asked them next (Wishing to see them more perplext)
Which of the two contending powers
Was chiefly abused by this bard of ours ?
For he said, " Such a bold, so profound an adviser By dint of abuse would render them wiser,
More active and able ; and briefly that they
Must finally prosper and carry the day. "
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
Now mark the Lacedaemonian guile !
Demanding an insignificant isle !
" JDgina," they say, " for a pledge of peace,
As a means to make all jealousy cease. "
Meanwhile their privy design and plan
Is solely to gain this marvelous man, —
Knowing his influence on your fate, —
By obtaining a hold on his estate
Situate in the isle aforesaid.
Therefore there needs to be no more said.
You know their intention, and know that you know it You'll keep to your island, and stick to the poet.
And he for his part
Will practice his art
With a patriot heart,
With the honest views
That he now pursues,
And fair buffoonery and abuse ;
Not rashly bespattering, or basely beflattering,
Not pimping, or puffing, or acting the ruffian ;
Not sneaking or fawning j
But openly scorning
All menace and warning,
All bribes and suborning :
He will do his endeavor on your behalf ;
He will teach you to think, he will teach you to laugh. So Cleon again and again may try ;
I value him not, nor fear him, I
His rage and rhetoric I defy.
His impudence, his politics,
His dirty designs, his rascally tricks
No stain of abuse on me shall fix.
Justice and right, in his despite,
Shall aid and attend me, and do me right:
With these to friend, I ne'er will bend,
Nor descend
To an humble tone
(Like his own),
As a sneaking loon,
A knavish, slavish, poor poltroon.
vol. xv. —4
!
50 THE MOCK HERCULES.
THE MOCK HERCULES.
By ARISTOPHANES.
[For biographical sketch, see Vol. 3, p. 385. ]
(From " The Frogs ": translated by John Hookham Frere. )
Bacchus and his slave Xanthias go to Hades to bring back Eurip ides, whose death has taken away Athens' last great tragic artist. Bacchus, having called on Hercules for directions, is eager to emulate him. Scene: the gate of Pluto's palace.
Bacchus [going up to the door with considerable hesitation] —
Well, how must I knock at the door now ? Can't ye tell me ? How do the native inhabitants knock at doors ?
Xanthias —
Pah ! don't stand fooling there ; but smite it smartly, with the
very spirit and air of Hercules. Bacchus —
Holloh!
j35acus [from within, with the voice of a royal and infernal porter] —
Who's there ?
jEacus [coming out] —
Thou brutal, abominable, detestable,
Vile, villainous, infamous, nefarious scoundrel !
— How durst thou, villain as thou wert, to seize
Our watch-dog, Cerberus, whom I kept and tended, Hurrying him off, half strangled in your grasp ?
— But now, be sure we have you safe and fast, Miscreant and villain ! — Thee, the Stygian cliffs,
With stern adamantine durance, and the rocks
Of inaccessible Acheron, red with gore,
Environ and beleaguer ; and the watch,
And swift pursuit of the hideous hounds of hell ;
And the horrible Hydra, with her hundred heads,
Whose furious ravening fangs shall rend and tear thee ; Wrenching thy vitals forth, with the heart and midriff; While inexpressible Tartesian monsters
And grim Tithrasian Gorgons toss and scatter
With clattering claws, thine intertwined intestines.
To them, with instant summons, I repair,
Moving in hasty march with steps of speed.
[iEAcus departs with a tremendous tragical exit, and Bacchus falls to the ground in a fright. ]
Bacchus [with a forced voice] — 'Tis I, the valiant Hercules !
THE MOCK HERCULES.
61
Xanthias —
Holloh, you ! What's the matter there ?
Bacchus —
Oh dear, I've had an accident.
Xanthias — Poh! poh! jump up I Come ! you ridiculous simpleton ! don't lie there,
The people will see you.
Bacchus — Indeed, I'm sick at heart; lah! . . . Xanthias —
Was there ever in heaven or earth such a coward ? Bacchus— Me ?
A coward ! Did not I show my presence of mind — And call for a sponge and water in a moment ? Would a coward have done that ?
Xanthias — What else would he do ? Bacchus —
He'd have lain there like a nasty coward ;
But I jumped up at once, like a lusty wrestler, And looked about, and wiped myself, withal.
Xanthias —
Most manfully done !
By Jove, and I think it was ;
Bacchus —
But tell me, weren't you frightened with that speech ? — Such horrible expressions ! —
Xanthias [coolly, but with conscious and intentional coolness] No, not I; I took no notice
Bacchus — Well, I'll tell you what, Since you're such a valiant-spirited kind of fellow —
Do you be me — with the club and the lion skin,
Now you're in this courageous temper of mind ;
And I'll go take my turn and carry the bundles. Xanthias —
Well — give us hold — I must honor you forsooth; Make haste [he changes his dress] : and now behold the
Xanthian Hercules,
And mind if I don't display more heart and spirit.
Bacchus — .
Indeed and you look the character completely.
Enter Proserpine's Servant Maid (a kind of Dame Quickly), who immediately addresses Xanthias.
Dear Hercules. Well, you're come at last. Come in, For the goddess, as soon as she heard of set to work, Baking peck loaves and frying stacks of pancakes,
And making messes of furmety; there's an ox
it,
52 THE MOCK HERCULES.
Besides, she has roasted whole, with a relishing stuffing,
If you'll only just step in this way.
Xanthias [with dignity and reserve] — I thank you,
I'm equally obliged.
Servant Maid — No, no, by Jupiter !
We must not let you off, indeed. There's wild fowl And sweetmeats for the dessert, and the best of wine ; Only walk in.
Xanthias [as before] — I thank you. You'll excuse me. Servant Maid — No, no, we can't excuse you, indeed we can't;
There are dancing and singing girls besides.
Xanthias [with dissembled emotion] — What ! dancers ? Servant Maid —
Yes, that there are ; the sweetest, charmingest things that evei you saw—and there's the cook this moment
Is dishing up the dinner. —
Xanthias (with an air of lofty condescension)
Go before, then, And tell the girls — those singing girls you mentioned —
To prepare for my approach in person presently.
[ To Bacchus] — You, sirrah ! follow behind me with the bundles. Bacchus —
Holloh, you ! what, do you take the thing in earnest, Because, for a joke, I drest you up like Hercules?
—
[Xanthias continues to gesticulate as Hercules. Come, don't stand fooling, Xanthias. You'll provoke me.
There, carry the bundles, sirrah, when I bid you. Xanthias [relapsing at once into his natural air] —
Why, sure ? do you mean to take the things away
That you gave me yourself of your own accord this instant ?
Bacchus —
I never mean a thing ;
Let go of the lion's skin directly, I tell you.
I
do it at once.
Xanthias [resigning his heroical insignia with a tragical air and To you, just Gods, I make my last appeal,
Bear witness !
tone]
Bacchus — What ! the Gods ? — do you think they mind you ? How could you take it in your head, I wonder —
Such a foolish fancy for a fellow like you,
A mortal and a slave, to pass for Hercules ?
Xanthias — —
There. Take them.
You may come to want my help some time or other.
There
— — [God you may have them but please
Enter Two Women, Sutlers or Keepers of an Eating House.
1 Woman —
What, Platana ! Goody Platana ! there ! that's he,
THE MOCK HERCULES. 53
The fellow that robs and cheats poor victualers ;
That came to our house and eat those nineteen loaves. 2 Woman —
Ay, sure enough that's he, the very man. Xanthias [tauntingly to Bacchus] —
There's mischief in the wind for somebody ! 1 Woman —
And a dozen and a half of cutlets and fried chops,
At a penny halfpenny a piece —
Xanthias [significantly] — There are pains and penalties
Impending —
1 Woman — And all the garlic : such a quantity
As he swallowed —
Bacchus [delivers this speech with Herculean dignity, after his fash
ion, having hitherto remained silent on the same principle] — Woman, you're beside yourself ;
You talk you know not what —
2 Woman — No, no! you reckoned
I should not know you again with them there buskins. 1 Woman —
Good lack ! and there was all that fish besides.
Indeed — with the pickle, and all — and the good green cheese That he gorged at once, with the rind, and the rush baskets ; And then, when I called for payment, he looked fierce,
And stared at me in the face, and grinned, and roared —
Xanthias —
Just like him ! That's the way wherever he goes.
1 Woman —
And snatched his sword out, and behaved like mad.
Xanthias —
Poor souls ! you suffered sadly !
1 Woman — Yes, indeed ;
And then we both ran off with the fright and terror, And scrambled into the loft beneath the roof ;
And he took up two rugs and stole them off.
Xanthias — — Just like him again
but something must be done. Go call me Cleon, he's my advocate.
2 Woman —
And Hyperbolus, if you meet him send him here. He's mine ; and we'll demolish him, I warrant.
1 Woman [going close up to Bacchus in the true attitude of rage
and defiance, with the arms akimbo, and a neck and chin thrust
out] —
How I should like to strike those ugly teeth out
With a good big stone, you ravenous greedy villain !
THE MOCK HERCULES.
64
2
1 Woman —
And I should like to rip that gullet out
With a reaping hook that swallowed all my tripe, And liver and lights, — but I'll fetch Cleon here, And he shall summon him. He shall settle him, And have it out with him this very day.
You gormandizing villain, that I should —
Yes, that I should ; your wicked ugly fangs
That have eaten up my substance, and devoured me.
Woman —
And I could toss you into the public pit
With the malefactors' carcasses ; that I could, With pleasure and satisfaction ; that I could.
[Exeunt 1st and 2d Woman. Bacchus [in a pretended soliloquy] —
I love poor Xanthias dearly, that I do;
I wish I might be hanged else.
Xanthias — Yes, I know —
I know your meaning — No ; no more of that,
I won't act Hercules
Bacchus — Now pray don't say so,
My little Xanthias.
Xanthias — How should I be Hercules ?
A mortal and a slave, a fellow like me ? Bacchus —
I know you're angry, and you've a right to be angry : And if you beat me for it I'd not complain ;
But if ever I strip you again, from this time forward, I wish I may be utterly confounded,
With my wife, my children, and my family,
And the blear-eyed Archedemus into the bargain. Xanthias —
agree, then, on that oath and those conditions.
2Eacus enters again as a vulgar executioner of the law, with suitable understrappers in attendance.
[JEacus is exhibited in the following scene as the ideal character of a perfect and accomplished bailiff and thief-taker, and is marked by traits which prove that the genus has remained unchanged in the two thousand years between the times of Aristophanes and Fielding. The true hardness of mind is most strik ingly apparent in those passages where he means to be civil and accommodating. Thus Foote has characterized his Miser by traits of miserly liberality. ]
JEacus —
Arrest me there that fellow that stole the dog. There ! — Pinion him ! — Quick !
I
THE MOCK HERCULES.
55
Bacchus [tauntingly to Xanthias] —There's somebody in a scrape.
Xanthias [in a menacing attitude] — Keep off, and be hanged.
JEacus — Oh, hoh ! do you mean to fight for it ? Here ! Pardokas, and Skeblias, and the rest of ye,
Make up to the rogue, and settle him. Come, be quick.
[A scuffle ensues, in which Xanthias succeeds in obliging jEacus's runners to keep their distance. ]
Bacchus [mortified at Xanthias's prowess] — — Well, is not this quite monstrous and outrageous
To steal the dog, and then to make an assault
In justification of it. —
Xanthias [triumphantly and ironically]
jSSacub [gravely, and dissembling his mortification] —
Quite outrageous 1
An aggravated case !
Xanthias [with candor and gallantry] — Well, now — by Jupiter,
May I die ; but I never saw this place before —
Nor ever stole the amount of a farthing from you :
Nor a hair of your dog's tail — But you shall see now, I'll settle all this business nobly and fairly.
— This slave of mine — you may take and torture him; And if you make out anything against me,
You may take and put me to death for aught I care.
JEacus [in an obliging tone, softened into deference and civility by the liberality of Xanthias's proposal] —
But which way would you please to have him tortured ? Xanthias [with a gentlemanly spirit of accommodation] —
In your own way — with . . . . the lash — with . . . . knots and screws,
With . . .
Chorus —
An alien I, I chant glad outland strain, Who cower no more in terror of the chain.
Messenger —
Deemest thou Thebes so void of men [that ills Have left her powerless all to punish thee ? ]
Chorus —
Dionysus it 'tis the King of the Vine
That hath lordship o'er me, no Thebes of thine
Messenger
This might be pardoned, save that base Women, to joy o'er evils past recall.
Chorus —
Tell to me, tell, — by what doom died he, The villain devising villainy
Messenger —
When, from the homesteads of this Theban land Departing, we had crossed Asopus' streams,
Then we began to breast Kithairon's steep,
Pentheus and — for to my lord clave, —
And he who ushered us unto the scene.
First in grassy dell we sat us down
With footfall hushed and tongues refrained from speech. That so we might behold, all unbeheld.
a
I,
is,
? I
it is,
!
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS. 87
There was a glen crag-walled, with rills o'erstreamed, Closed in with pine shade, where the Maenad girls Sat with hands busied with their blithesome toils. The faded thyrsus some with ivy sprays
Twined, till its tendril tresses waved again.
Others, like colts from carven wain yokes loosed,
Reechoed each to each the Bacchic chant.
But hapless Pentheus, seeing ill the throng
Of women, spake thus : " Stranger, where we stand,
Are these mock-maenad maids beyond my ken.
Some knoll or pine high-crested let me climb,
And I shall see the Maenads' lewdness well. "
A marvel then I saw the stranger do.
A soaring pine branch by the top he caught,
And dragged down — down — still down to the dark earth. Arched as a bow it grew, or curving wheel
That on the lathe sweeps out its circle's round :
So bowed the stranger's hands that mountain branch,
And bent to earth — a deed past mortal might !
Then Pentheus on the pine boughs seated he,
And let the branch rise, sliding through his hands
Gently, with heedful care to unseat him not.
High up into the heights of air it soared,
Bearing my master throned upon its crest,
More by the Maenads seen than seeing them.
For scarce high-lifted was he manifest,
When lo, the stranger might no more be seen ;
And fell from heaven a voice — the voice, most like,
Of Dionysus, — crying : " O ye maids,
I bring him who would mock at you and me, "
And at my rites. Take vengeance on him ye !
Even as he cried, up heavenward, down to earth,
He flashed a pillar splendor of awful flame.
Hushed was the welkin : that fair grassy glen
Held hushed its leaves ; no wild thing's cry was heard. But they, whose ears not clearly caught the sound,
Sprang up, and shot keen glances right and left.
Again he cried his hest : then Kadmus' daughters
Knew certainly the Bacchic God's command,
And darted : and the swiftness of their feet
Was as of doves in onward-straining race —
His mother Agave' and her sisters twain,
And all the Bacchanals. Through torrent gorge,
O'er bowlders, leapt they, with the God's breath mad. When seated on the pine they saw my lord,
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
First torrent stones with might and main they hurled, Scaling a rock, their counter bastion,
And javelined him with branches of the pine :
And others shot their thyrsi through the air
At Pentheus — woeful mark ! — yet naught availed.
For, at a height above their fury's pitch,
Trapped in despair's gin, horror-struck he sat.
Last, oak limbs from their trunks they thundered down, And heaved at the roots with levers — not of iron.
But when they won no end of toil and strain,
Agav8 cried, "Ho, stand we round the trunk,
Maenads, and grasp, that we may catch the beast Crouched there, that he may"not proclaim abroad
Our God's mysterious rites ! Their countless hands Set they unto the pine, tore from the soil : —
And he, high-seated, crashed down from his height : And earthward fell with frenzy of shriek on shriek Pentheus, for now he knew his doom at hand.
His mother first, priestlike, began the slaughter, And fell on him : but from his hair the coif
He tore, that she might know and slay him not, — Hapless Agave' ! — and he touched her cheek, Crying, "'Tis I — 0 mother! — thine own son Pentheus — thou bar'st me in Echion's halls !
Have mercy, 0 my mother ! — for my sin
Murder not thou thy son — thy very son ! "
But she, with foaming lips and eyes that rolled Wildly, and reckless madness-clouded soul, Possessed of Bacchus, gave no heed to him ;
But his left arm she clutched in both her hands, And set against the wretch's ribs her foot,
And tore his shoulder out — not by her strength, But the God made it easy to her hands.
And Ino labored on the other side,
Rending his flesh: AutonoS pressed on — all
The Bacchanal throng. One awful blended cry
Rose — the king's screams while life was yet in him, And triumph yells from them. One bare an arm, One a foot sandal-shod. His ribs were stripped
In mangled shreds : with blood-bedabbled hands Each to and fro was tossing Pentheus' flesh.
Wide-sundered lies his corse : part 'neath rough rocks, Part mid the tangled depths of forest shades : —
Hard were the search. His miserable head
Which in her hands his mother chanced to seize,
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS. 39
Impaled upon her thyrsus point she bears,
Like mountain lion's, through Kithairon's mid Leaving her sisters in their Maenad dance ;
And, in her ghastly quarry exulting, comes Within these walls, to Bacchus crying aloud,
Her fellow-hunter, helper in the chase Triumphant — all its triumph-prize is tears! . . .
Enter Agave, carrying the head of Pentheus.
Agav6 —
Asian Bacchanals !
Chorus — Why dost thou challenge me ? — say. Agave —
Chorus —
Of Kadmus —
Lo, from the mountain side I bear A newly severed ivy spray
Unto our halls, a goodly prey.
Chorus —
I see — to our revels I welcome thee.
Agave —
I trapped him, I, with never a snare !
'Tis a lion — the whelp of a lion, plain to see.
Chorus —
Where in the wilderness, where ?
Kithairon —
Chorus — What hath Kithairon wrought ?
Him hath Kithairon to slaughter brought. Chorus —
Who was it smote him first ?
Agav6 — Mine, mine is the guerdon.
Their revel rout singeth me — " Happy Agave' ! " their
burden. Chorus —
Who then ? Agav6 —
Agav6 —
His daughter after me smote the monster fell — After me ! 0 fortunate hunting ! Is it not well ? Now share in the banquet ! —
Of Kadmus what wilt thou tell ?
Chorus — Alas ! wherein shall I share ?
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
Agave —
This whelp is yet but a tender thing,
And over its jaws yet sprouteth fair
The down 'neath the crest of its waving hair.
Chorus —
Yea, the hair of a beast of the wold might it be.
Agav6 —
Uproused was the Maenad gathering
To the chase, by a cunning hunter full cunningly.
Chorus —
Yea, a hunter is Bacchus our King.
Agav6 —
Dost thou praise me ?
Chorus — How can I choose but praise ?
Agav6 —
Ay, and full soon shall Kadmus' race
Chorus — — And Pentheus thy son
Agav6 —
Chorus — — Strange quarry !
And my son Pentheus where ? Let him upraise A ladder's stair against the palace wall,
That to the triglyphs he may nail this head, This lion's head that I from hunting bring.
Enter Kadmus, with Attendants carrying a bier.
Kadmus —
Follow me, henchmen, to the palace front ;
Follow me, bearing Pentheus' ghastly load,
Whose limbs by toilsome searchings manifold, About Kithairon's glens all rent apart
I found, and bring — no twain in one place found, But lying all about the trackless wood. . . .
Agavt —
My father, proudest boast is thine to make,
To have begotten daughters best by far
Of mortals — all thy daughters, chiefly me,
Me who left loom and shuttle, and pressed on
To high emprise, to hunt beasts with mine hands. And in mine arms I bring, thou seest, this
—
Agav6 —
Yea, I shall have praise of my scion For the prey that is taken, even this whelp of a lion.
And strangely taken. . . . Where is mine ancient sire ? Let him draw near.
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
The prize I took, against thy palace wall
To hang : receive father, in thine hands. And now, triumphant in mine hunting's spoil, Bid to feast thy friends for blest art thou, Blest verily, since we have achieved such deeds.
Kadmus —
anguish measureless that blasts the sight murder compassed by those wretched hands
Fair victim this to cast before the Gods,
And bid to such banquet Thebes and me
Woe for our sorrows — first for thine, then minel How hath the God, King Bromius, ruined us — Just stroke — yet ruthless — he not our kin
Agav6 —
How sour of mood graybeard eld in men,
How sullen-eyed Framed in his mother's mold A mighty hunter may my son become,
When with the Theban youths he speedeth forth Questing the quarry — But he can do naught Save war with Gods Father, our part
To warn him not to joy in baneful wisdom. Where he Who will call him hitherward
To see me, and behold mine happiness
Kadmus —
Alas when ye are ware what ye have done, With sore grief shall ye grieve If to life's end Ye should abide on aye in this your state,
Ye should not, though unblest, seem all accurst
AgavQ —
What not well here — what that calls for grief
Kadmus —
First cast thou up thine eye to yonder heaven.
Agave —
Lo, so do. Why bid me look thereon
Kadmus — Seems
Agav6 — Brighter
the same Or hath changed to thee
—
Kadmus —
Is this delirium tossing yet thy soul
more clear than heretofore.
Agav6 —
This comprehend not: yet — yet — passes, My late mood — am coming to myself.
Kadmus —
Canst hearken aught then Clearly canst reply
?
it
?
? ?
?
it it
I is
!
is
O0
a
is
?
II! a
? is ! ! !
it, ;
it ! ?
is
?
?
it
is ! !
! ?
!
42
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
Agave —
Our words late-spoken — father, I forget them.
Kadmus —
To what house earnest thou with bridal hymns ?
Agave — Echion's
—
of the Dragon seed, men say.
— — in thine halls, to thy lord
born of my union with his sire.
Kadmus —
Thou barest
whom ?
Agave — — Pentheus
Kadmus — Whose
—
—
art thou bearing in thine
head arms?
whose?
Agave — — A lion's
Agave —
Ah-h! what do Isee? Whatbear Iinminehands?
Kadmus —
Gaze, gaze on and be thou certified.
so said they which hunted it.
Kadmus —
Look well thereon : small trouble this, to look.
Agave — — see
mine uttermost anguish Woe me! to thee now like lion's head
Kadmus — Seems
Agave — — No —
wretched
—
wretched
—
Pentheus'
head hold
Kadmus
Of me bewailed ere recognized of thee.
Agave —
Who murdered him How came he to mine hands
Kadmus —
piteous truth that so untimely dawns
Agave — Speak
Agave —
How to Kithairon went this hapless one
Kadmus — — Thou!
Hard my heart beats, waiting for its doom. thou, and those thy sisters murdered him.
Agave —
Where perished he
—
at home, or in what place
Kadmus —
There, where Aktaion erst by hounds was torn.
Kadmus —
To mock the God and thy wild rites he went.
?
0 !
I !
? ! ? is
?
I ?
! ?
it
it,
a !
!
!
THE VENGEANCE OF DIONYSUS.
43
Agavi —
But we — for what cause thither journeyed we ?
Kadmus —
Ye were distraught : all Thebes went Bacchant-wild.
Agav6 —
Dionysus ruined us !
I
see it now.
Kadmus —
Ye flouted him, would not believe him God.
Agav6 —
Where, father, is my son's beloved corse ?
Kadmus —
Here do I bear by hard searching found.
Agave —
Is —all meetly fitted limb to limb
Kadmus —now add thereto this dear-loved [Yea
head. ]
AgavG —
But — in my folly what was Pentheus' part
Kadmus —
He was as ye, revering not the God,
Who therefore in one mischief whelmed you all, You, and this prince, so ruining all our house
And me, who had no man child of mine own,
Who see now, wretched daughter, this the fruit Of thy womb horribly and foully slain.
To thee our house looked up, son, the stay
Of mine old halls my daughter's offspring thou, Thou wast the city's dread was none dared mock The old man, none that turned his eyes on thee,
gallant head — thou hadst well requited him. Now from mine halls shall in shame be cast — Kadmus the great, who sowed the seed of Thebes, And reaped the goodliest harvest of the world.
best beloved — for, though thou be no more,
Thou shalt be counted best beloved, child,
Thou who shalt fondle never more my head,
Nor clasp and call me " Mother's father," child,
Crying, "Who wrongs thee, ancient? — flouts thee who? Who vexeth thee to trouble thine heart's peace
Speak, that may chastise the wrong, my sire. " Now am anguish-stricken, wretched thou, Woeful thy mother, and her sisters wretched
If any man there be that scorns the Gods,
This man's death let him note, and so believe.
II
! !
I
it,
!
?
?
00
I O
:
0
;
it
?
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES. Women.
the " Thesmophoriazusae " : translated by W. Lucas Collins. )
They're always abusing the women, As a terrible plague to men ;
They say we're the root of all evil, And repeat it again and again ;
Of war and quarrel and bloodshed, All mischief, be what it may :
And pray then why do you marry us, If we're all the plagues you say ?
And why do you take such care of us, And keep us safe at home,
And are never easy a moment If ever we chance to roam ?
When you ought to be thanking heaven That your Plague is out of the way,
You all keep fussing and fretting — Where is my Plague to-day ?
If a Plague peeps out of the window, Up go the eyes of the men ;
If she hides, then they all keep staring Until she looks out again.
of the Clouds.
(From "The Clouds" : translated by Andrew Lang. )
Immortal Clouds from the echoing shore
Of the father of streams from the sounding sea,
Dewy and fleet, let us rise and soar ; Dewy and gleaming and fleet are we !
Let us look on the tree-clad mountain crest,
On the sacred earth where the fruits rejoice,
On the waters that murmur east and west,
On the tumbling sea with his moaning voice,
For unwearied glitters the Eye of the Air, And the bright rays gleam;
Then cast we our shadows of mist, and fare
In our deathless shapes to glance everywhere
From the height of the heaven, on the land and air,
And the Ocean Stream.
Song
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES. 46
Let us on, ye Maidens that bring the Bain, Let us gaze on Pallas' citadel,
In the country of Cecrops fair and dear, The mystic land of the holy cell,
Where the Rites unspoken securely dwell,
And the gift of the gods that know not stain, And a people of mortals that know not fear.
For the temples tall and the statues fair,
And the feasts of the gods are holiest there ;
The feasts of Immortals, the chaplets of flowers,
And the Bromian mirth at the coming of spring, And the musical voices that fill the hours,
And the dancing feet of the maids that sing !
The Birds' Cosmology.
(From "The Birds " : translated by John Hookham Frere. )
Ye Children of Man !
whose life is a span, Protracted with sorrow from day to day, Naked and featherless, feeble and querulous, Sickly calamitous creatures of clay !
Attend to the words of the Sovereign Birds (Immortal, illustrious, lords of the air),
Who survey from on high, with a merciful eye, Your struggles of misery, labor, and care. Whence you may learn and clearly discern Such truths as attract your inquisitive turn; Which is busied of late with a mighty debate, A profound speculation about the creation,
And organical life, and chaotical strife,
With various notions of heavenly motions,
And rivers and oceans, and valleys and mountains, And sources of fountains, and meteors on high,
And stars in the sky. . . . We propose by and by
(If you'll listen and hear) to make it all clear.
And Prodicus henceforth shall pass for a dunce,
When his doubts are explained and expounded at once.
Before the creation of Ether and Light, Chaos and Night together were plight,
In the dungeon of Erebus foully bedight, Nor Ocean, or Air, or substance was there, Or solid or rare, or figure or form,
But horrible Tartarus ruled in the storm :
At length, in the dreary chaotical closet Of Erebus old, was a privy deposit,
--
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
By Night the primeval in secrecy laid —
A mystical egg, that in silence and shade
Was brooded and hatched, till time came about, And Love, the delightful, in glory flew out,
In rapture and light, exulting and bright, Sparkling and florid, with stars in his forehead, His forehead and hair, and a flutter and flare,
As he rose in the air, triumphantly furnished
To range his dominions on glittering pinions,
All golden and azure, and blooming and burnished:
He soon, in the murky Tartarean recesses, With a hurricane's might, in his fiery caresses Impregnated Chaos ; and hastily snatched
To being and life, begotten and hatched
The primitive Birds : but the Deities all,
The celestial Lights, the terrestrial Ball,
Were later of birth, with the dwellers on earth More tamely combined, of a temperate kind ; When chaotical mixture approached to a fixture.
Our antiquity proved ; it remains to be shown That Love is our author and master alone,
Like him we can ramble, and gambol and fly
O'er ocean and earth, and aloft to the sky ;
And all the world over, we're friends to the lover, And when other means fail, we are found to prevail, When a Peacock or Pheasant is sent as a present.
All lessons of primary daily concern
You have learned from the Birds, and continue to learn, Your best benefactors and early instructors ;
We give you the warning of seasons returning.
When the Cranes are arranged, and muster afloat
In the middle air, with a creaking note,
Steering away to the Libyan sands,
Then careful farmers sow their lands ;
The crazy vessel is hauled ashore,
The sail, the ropes, the rudder, and oar
Are all unshipped, and housed in store.
The shepherd is warned, by the Kite reappearing,
To muster his flock, and be ready for shearing,
You quit your old cloak at the Swallow's behest,
In assurance of summer, and purchase a vest.
For Delphi, for Ammon, Dodona, in fine
For every oracular temple and shrine,
The Birds are a substitute equal and fair,
For on us you depend, and to us you repair
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES. 47
For counsel and aid when a marriage is made, A purchase, a bargain, a venture in trade : Unlucky or lucky, whatever has struck ye, An ox or an ass that may happen to pass,
A voice in the street, or a slave that you meet,
A name or a word by chance overheard,
If you deem it an omen, you call it a Bird ;
And if birds are your omens, it clearly will follow, That birds are a proper prophetic Apollo.
Then take us as gods, and you'll soon find the odds, We'll serve for all uses, as prophets and muses ;
We'll give ye fine weather, we'll live here together ; We'll not keep away, scornful and proud, atop of a cloud (In Jupiter's way) ; but attend every day
To prosper and bless all you possess,
And all your affairs, for yourselves and your heirs. And as long as you live, we shall give
You wealth and health, and pleasure and treasure, In ample measure ;
And never bilk you of pigeon's milk
Or potable gold ; you shall live to grow old,
In laughter and mirth, on the face of the earth, Laughing, quaffing, carousing, boozing,
Your only distress shall be the excess
Of ease and abundance and happiness.
His Vindication.
(From "The Acharnians" : same translation. )
Our poet has never as yet Esteemed it proper or fit To detain you with a long, Encomiastic song,
On his own superior wit.
But being abused and accused,
And attacked of late,
As a foe to the state,
He makes an appeal in his proper defense
To your voluble humor and temper and sense, With the following plea :
Namely, that he
Never attempted or ever meant
To scandalize
In any wise
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
Your mighty imperial government.
Moreover he says,
That in various ways
He presumes to have merited honor and praise, Exhorting you still to stick to your rights,
And no more to be fooled with rhetorical nights; Such as of late each envoy tries
On the behalf of your allies,
That come to plead their cause before ye,
With fulsome phrase, and a foolish story Of violet crowns, and Athenian glory ; With " sumptuous Athens " at every word ; " Sumptuous Athens " is always heard,
" Sumptuous " ever ; a suitable phrase For a dish of meat or a beast at graze. He therefore affirms,
In confident terms,
That his active courage and earnest zeal Have usefully served your common weal : He has openly shown
The style and tone
Of your democracy ruling abroad.
He has placed its practices on record ;
The tyrannical arts, the knavish tricks, That poison all your politics.
Therefore we shall see, this year,
The allies with tribute arriving here,
Eager and anxious all to behold
Their steady protector, the bard so bold : The bard, they say, that has dared to speak, To attack the strong, to defend the weak. His fame in foreign climes is heard,
And a singular instance lately occurred.
It occurred in the case of the Persian king, Sifting and cross-examining
The Spartan envoys. He demanded
Which of the rival states commanded
The Grecian seas ? He asked them next (Wishing to see them more perplext)
Which of the two contending powers
Was chiefly abused by this bard of ours ?
For he said, " Such a bold, so profound an adviser By dint of abuse would render them wiser,
More active and able ; and briefly that they
Must finally prosper and carry the day. "
CHORUSES FROM ARISTOPHANES.
Now mark the Lacedaemonian guile !
Demanding an insignificant isle !
" JDgina," they say, " for a pledge of peace,
As a means to make all jealousy cease. "
Meanwhile their privy design and plan
Is solely to gain this marvelous man, —
Knowing his influence on your fate, —
By obtaining a hold on his estate
Situate in the isle aforesaid.
Therefore there needs to be no more said.
You know their intention, and know that you know it You'll keep to your island, and stick to the poet.
And he for his part
Will practice his art
With a patriot heart,
With the honest views
That he now pursues,
And fair buffoonery and abuse ;
Not rashly bespattering, or basely beflattering,
Not pimping, or puffing, or acting the ruffian ;
Not sneaking or fawning j
But openly scorning
All menace and warning,
All bribes and suborning :
He will do his endeavor on your behalf ;
He will teach you to think, he will teach you to laugh. So Cleon again and again may try ;
I value him not, nor fear him, I
His rage and rhetoric I defy.
His impudence, his politics,
His dirty designs, his rascally tricks
No stain of abuse on me shall fix.
Justice and right, in his despite,
Shall aid and attend me, and do me right:
With these to friend, I ne'er will bend,
Nor descend
To an humble tone
(Like his own),
As a sneaking loon,
A knavish, slavish, poor poltroon.
vol. xv. —4
!
50 THE MOCK HERCULES.
THE MOCK HERCULES.
By ARISTOPHANES.
[For biographical sketch, see Vol. 3, p. 385. ]
(From " The Frogs ": translated by John Hookham Frere. )
Bacchus and his slave Xanthias go to Hades to bring back Eurip ides, whose death has taken away Athens' last great tragic artist. Bacchus, having called on Hercules for directions, is eager to emulate him. Scene: the gate of Pluto's palace.
Bacchus [going up to the door with considerable hesitation] —
Well, how must I knock at the door now ? Can't ye tell me ? How do the native inhabitants knock at doors ?
Xanthias —
Pah ! don't stand fooling there ; but smite it smartly, with the
very spirit and air of Hercules. Bacchus —
Holloh!
j35acus [from within, with the voice of a royal and infernal porter] —
Who's there ?
jEacus [coming out] —
Thou brutal, abominable, detestable,
Vile, villainous, infamous, nefarious scoundrel !
— How durst thou, villain as thou wert, to seize
Our watch-dog, Cerberus, whom I kept and tended, Hurrying him off, half strangled in your grasp ?
— But now, be sure we have you safe and fast, Miscreant and villain ! — Thee, the Stygian cliffs,
With stern adamantine durance, and the rocks
Of inaccessible Acheron, red with gore,
Environ and beleaguer ; and the watch,
And swift pursuit of the hideous hounds of hell ;
And the horrible Hydra, with her hundred heads,
Whose furious ravening fangs shall rend and tear thee ; Wrenching thy vitals forth, with the heart and midriff; While inexpressible Tartesian monsters
And grim Tithrasian Gorgons toss and scatter
With clattering claws, thine intertwined intestines.
To them, with instant summons, I repair,
Moving in hasty march with steps of speed.
[iEAcus departs with a tremendous tragical exit, and Bacchus falls to the ground in a fright. ]
Bacchus [with a forced voice] — 'Tis I, the valiant Hercules !
THE MOCK HERCULES.
61
Xanthias —
Holloh, you ! What's the matter there ?
Bacchus —
Oh dear, I've had an accident.
Xanthias — Poh! poh! jump up I Come ! you ridiculous simpleton ! don't lie there,
The people will see you.
Bacchus — Indeed, I'm sick at heart; lah! . . . Xanthias —
Was there ever in heaven or earth such a coward ? Bacchus— Me ?
A coward ! Did not I show my presence of mind — And call for a sponge and water in a moment ? Would a coward have done that ?
Xanthias — What else would he do ? Bacchus —
He'd have lain there like a nasty coward ;
But I jumped up at once, like a lusty wrestler, And looked about, and wiped myself, withal.
Xanthias —
Most manfully done !
By Jove, and I think it was ;
Bacchus —
But tell me, weren't you frightened with that speech ? — Such horrible expressions ! —
Xanthias [coolly, but with conscious and intentional coolness] No, not I; I took no notice
Bacchus — Well, I'll tell you what, Since you're such a valiant-spirited kind of fellow —
Do you be me — with the club and the lion skin,
Now you're in this courageous temper of mind ;
And I'll go take my turn and carry the bundles. Xanthias —
Well — give us hold — I must honor you forsooth; Make haste [he changes his dress] : and now behold the
Xanthian Hercules,
And mind if I don't display more heart and spirit.
Bacchus — .
Indeed and you look the character completely.
Enter Proserpine's Servant Maid (a kind of Dame Quickly), who immediately addresses Xanthias.
Dear Hercules. Well, you're come at last. Come in, For the goddess, as soon as she heard of set to work, Baking peck loaves and frying stacks of pancakes,
And making messes of furmety; there's an ox
it,
52 THE MOCK HERCULES.
Besides, she has roasted whole, with a relishing stuffing,
If you'll only just step in this way.
Xanthias [with dignity and reserve] — I thank you,
I'm equally obliged.
Servant Maid — No, no, by Jupiter !
We must not let you off, indeed. There's wild fowl And sweetmeats for the dessert, and the best of wine ; Only walk in.
Xanthias [as before] — I thank you. You'll excuse me. Servant Maid — No, no, we can't excuse you, indeed we can't;
There are dancing and singing girls besides.
Xanthias [with dissembled emotion] — What ! dancers ? Servant Maid —
Yes, that there are ; the sweetest, charmingest things that evei you saw—and there's the cook this moment
Is dishing up the dinner. —
Xanthias (with an air of lofty condescension)
Go before, then, And tell the girls — those singing girls you mentioned —
To prepare for my approach in person presently.
[ To Bacchus] — You, sirrah ! follow behind me with the bundles. Bacchus —
Holloh, you ! what, do you take the thing in earnest, Because, for a joke, I drest you up like Hercules?
—
[Xanthias continues to gesticulate as Hercules. Come, don't stand fooling, Xanthias. You'll provoke me.
There, carry the bundles, sirrah, when I bid you. Xanthias [relapsing at once into his natural air] —
Why, sure ? do you mean to take the things away
That you gave me yourself of your own accord this instant ?
Bacchus —
I never mean a thing ;
Let go of the lion's skin directly, I tell you.
I
do it at once.
Xanthias [resigning his heroical insignia with a tragical air and To you, just Gods, I make my last appeal,
Bear witness !
tone]
Bacchus — What ! the Gods ? — do you think they mind you ? How could you take it in your head, I wonder —
Such a foolish fancy for a fellow like you,
A mortal and a slave, to pass for Hercules ?
Xanthias — —
There. Take them.
You may come to want my help some time or other.
There
— — [God you may have them but please
Enter Two Women, Sutlers or Keepers of an Eating House.
1 Woman —
What, Platana ! Goody Platana ! there ! that's he,
THE MOCK HERCULES. 53
The fellow that robs and cheats poor victualers ;
That came to our house and eat those nineteen loaves. 2 Woman —
Ay, sure enough that's he, the very man. Xanthias [tauntingly to Bacchus] —
There's mischief in the wind for somebody ! 1 Woman —
And a dozen and a half of cutlets and fried chops,
At a penny halfpenny a piece —
Xanthias [significantly] — There are pains and penalties
Impending —
1 Woman — And all the garlic : such a quantity
As he swallowed —
Bacchus [delivers this speech with Herculean dignity, after his fash
ion, having hitherto remained silent on the same principle] — Woman, you're beside yourself ;
You talk you know not what —
2 Woman — No, no! you reckoned
I should not know you again with them there buskins. 1 Woman —
Good lack ! and there was all that fish besides.
Indeed — with the pickle, and all — and the good green cheese That he gorged at once, with the rind, and the rush baskets ; And then, when I called for payment, he looked fierce,
And stared at me in the face, and grinned, and roared —
Xanthias —
Just like him ! That's the way wherever he goes.
1 Woman —
And snatched his sword out, and behaved like mad.
Xanthias —
Poor souls ! you suffered sadly !
1 Woman — Yes, indeed ;
And then we both ran off with the fright and terror, And scrambled into the loft beneath the roof ;
And he took up two rugs and stole them off.
Xanthias — — Just like him again
but something must be done. Go call me Cleon, he's my advocate.
2 Woman —
And Hyperbolus, if you meet him send him here. He's mine ; and we'll demolish him, I warrant.
1 Woman [going close up to Bacchus in the true attitude of rage
and defiance, with the arms akimbo, and a neck and chin thrust
out] —
How I should like to strike those ugly teeth out
With a good big stone, you ravenous greedy villain !
THE MOCK HERCULES.
64
2
1 Woman —
And I should like to rip that gullet out
With a reaping hook that swallowed all my tripe, And liver and lights, — but I'll fetch Cleon here, And he shall summon him. He shall settle him, And have it out with him this very day.
You gormandizing villain, that I should —
Yes, that I should ; your wicked ugly fangs
That have eaten up my substance, and devoured me.
Woman —
And I could toss you into the public pit
With the malefactors' carcasses ; that I could, With pleasure and satisfaction ; that I could.
[Exeunt 1st and 2d Woman. Bacchus [in a pretended soliloquy] —
I love poor Xanthias dearly, that I do;
I wish I might be hanged else.
Xanthias — Yes, I know —
I know your meaning — No ; no more of that,
I won't act Hercules
Bacchus — Now pray don't say so,
My little Xanthias.
Xanthias — How should I be Hercules ?
A mortal and a slave, a fellow like me ? Bacchus —
I know you're angry, and you've a right to be angry : And if you beat me for it I'd not complain ;
But if ever I strip you again, from this time forward, I wish I may be utterly confounded,
With my wife, my children, and my family,
And the blear-eyed Archedemus into the bargain. Xanthias —
agree, then, on that oath and those conditions.
2Eacus enters again as a vulgar executioner of the law, with suitable understrappers in attendance.
[JEacus is exhibited in the following scene as the ideal character of a perfect and accomplished bailiff and thief-taker, and is marked by traits which prove that the genus has remained unchanged in the two thousand years between the times of Aristophanes and Fielding. The true hardness of mind is most strik ingly apparent in those passages where he means to be civil and accommodating. Thus Foote has characterized his Miser by traits of miserly liberality. ]
JEacus —
Arrest me there that fellow that stole the dog. There ! — Pinion him ! — Quick !
I
THE MOCK HERCULES.
55
Bacchus [tauntingly to Xanthias] —There's somebody in a scrape.
Xanthias [in a menacing attitude] — Keep off, and be hanged.
JEacus — Oh, hoh ! do you mean to fight for it ? Here ! Pardokas, and Skeblias, and the rest of ye,
Make up to the rogue, and settle him. Come, be quick.
[A scuffle ensues, in which Xanthias succeeds in obliging jEacus's runners to keep their distance. ]
Bacchus [mortified at Xanthias's prowess] — — Well, is not this quite monstrous and outrageous
To steal the dog, and then to make an assault
In justification of it. —
Xanthias [triumphantly and ironically]
jSSacub [gravely, and dissembling his mortification] —
Quite outrageous 1
An aggravated case !
Xanthias [with candor and gallantry] — Well, now — by Jupiter,
May I die ; but I never saw this place before —
Nor ever stole the amount of a farthing from you :
Nor a hair of your dog's tail — But you shall see now, I'll settle all this business nobly and fairly.
— This slave of mine — you may take and torture him; And if you make out anything against me,
You may take and put me to death for aught I care.
JEacus [in an obliging tone, softened into deference and civility by the liberality of Xanthias's proposal] —
But which way would you please to have him tortured ? Xanthias [with a gentlemanly spirit of accommodation] —
In your own way — with . . . . the lash — with . . . . knots and screws,
With . . .
