No More Learning

[146] They were personified on the stage as pretty little _filles de
joie_.




THE ACHARNIANS




INTRODUCTION

This is the first of the series of three Comedies--'The Acharnians,'
'Peace' and 'Lysistrata'--produced at intervals of years, the sixth,
tenth and twenty-first of the Peloponnesian War, and impressing on the
Athenian people the miseries and disasters due to it and to the
scoundrels who by their selfish and reckless policy had provoked it, the
consequent ruin of industry and, above all, agriculture, and the urgency
of asking Peace. In date it is the earliest play brought out by the
author in his own name and his first work of serious importance. It was
acted at the Lenaean Festival, in January, 426 B. C. , and gained the first
prize, Cratinus being second.

Its diatribes against the War and fierce criticism of the general policy
of the War party so enraged Cleon that, as already mentioned, he
endeavoured to ruin the author, who in 'The Knights' retorted by a direct
and savage personal attack on the leader of the democracy. The plot is of
the simplest. Dicaeopolis, an Athenian citizen, but a native of Acharnae,
one of the agricultural _demes_ and one which had especially suffered in
the Lacedaemonian invasions, sick and tired of the ill-success and
miseries of the War, makes up his mind, if he fails to induce the people
to adopt his policy of "peace at any price," to conclude a private and
particular peace of his own to cover himself, his family, and his estate.
The Athenians, momentarily elated by victory and over-persuaded by the
demagogues of the day--Cleon and his henchmen, refuse to hear of such a
thing as coming to terms. Accordingly Dicaeopolis dispatches an envoy to
Sparta on his own account, who comes back presently with a selection of
specimen treaties in his pocket. The old man tastes and tries, special
terms are arranged, and the play concludes with a riotous and uproarious
rustic feast in honour of the blessings of Peace and Plenty. Incidentally
excellent fun is poked at Euripides and his dramatic methods, which
supply matter for so much witty badinage in several others of our
author's pieces.

Other specially comic incidents are: the scene where the two young
daughters of the famished Megarian are sold in the market at Athens as
sucking-pigs--a scene in which the convenient similarity of the Greek
words signifying a pig and the 'pudendum muliebre' respectively is
utilized in a whole string of ingenious and suggestive 'double entendres'
and ludicrous jokes; another where the Informer, or Market-Spy, is packed
up in a crate as crockery and carried off home by the Boeotian buyer.

The drama takes its title from the Chorus, composed of old men of
Acharnae.

* * * * *

THE ACHARNIANS


DRAMATIS PERSONAE

DICAEOPOLIS.
HERALD.
AMPHITHEUS.
AMBASSADORS.
PSEUDARTABAS.
THEORUS.
WIFE OF DICAEOPOLIS.
DAUGHTER OF DICAEOPOLIS.
EURIPIDES.
CEPHISOPHON, servant of Euripides.
LAMACHUS.
ATTENDANT OF LAMACHUS.
A MEGARIAN.
MAIDENS, daughters of the Megarian.
A BOEOTIAN.
NICARCHUS.
A HUSBANDMAN.
A BRIDESMAID.
AN INFORMER.
MESSENGERS.
CHORUS OF ACHARNIAN ELDERS.

SCENE: The Athenian Ecclesia on the Pnyx; afterwards Dicaeopolis' house
in the country.

* * * * *

THE ACHARNIANS


DICAEOPOLIS[147] (_alone_). What cares have not gnawed at my heart and
how few have been the pleasures in my life! Four, to be exact, while my
troubles have been as countless as the grains of sand on the shore! Let
me see of what value to me have been these few pleasures? Ah! I remember
that I was delighted in soul when Cleon had to disgorge those five
talents;[148] I was in ecstasy and I love the Knights for this deed; 'it
is an honour to Greece. '[149] But the day when I was impatiently awaiting
a piece by Aeschylus,[150] what tragic despair it caused me when the
herald called, "Theognis,[151] introduce your Chorus! " Just imagine how
this blow struck straight at my heart! On the other hand, what joy
Dexitheus caused me at the musical competition, when he played a Boeotian
melody on the lyre! But this year by contrast! Oh! what deadly torture to
hear Chaeris[152] perform the prelude in the Orthian mode! [153]--Never,
however, since I began to bathe, has the dust hurt my eyes as it does
to-day. Still it is the day of assembly; all should be here at daybreak,
and yet the Pnyx[154] is still deserted. They are gossiping in the
market-place, slipping hither and thither to avoid the vermilioned
rope. [155] The Prytanes[156] even do not come; they will be late, but
when they come they will push and fight each other for a seat in the
front row. They will never trouble themselves with the question of peace.
Oh! Athens! Athens! As for myself, I do not fail to come here before all
the rest, and now, finding myself alone, I groan, yawn, stretch, break
wind, and know not what to do; I make sketches in the dust, pull out my
loose hairs, muse, think of my fields, long for peace, curse town life
and regret my dear country home,[157] which never told me to 'buy fuel,
vinegar or oil'; there the word 'buy,' which cuts me in two, was unknown;
I harvested everything at will. Therefore I have come to the assembly
fully prepared to bawl, interrupt and abuse the speakers, if they talk of
aught but peace. But here come the Prytanes, and high time too, for it is
midday! As I foretold, hah! is it not so? They are pushing and fighting
for the front seats.

HERALD. Move on up, move on, move on, to get within the consecrated
area. [158]

AMPHITHEUS. Has anyone spoken yet?

HERALD. Who asks to speak?

AMPHITHEUS. I do.

HERALD. Your name?

AMPHITHEUS. Amphitheus.

HERALD. You are no man. [159]

AMPHITHEUS. No! I am an immortal! Amphitheus was the son of Ceres and
Triptolemus; of him was born Celeus. Celeus wedded Phaencrete, my
grandmother, whose son was Lucinus, and, being born of him, I am an
immortal; it is to me alone that the gods have entrusted the duty of
treating with the Lacedaemonians. But, citizens, though I am immortal, I
am dying of hunger; the Prytanes give me naught. [160]

A PRYTANIS. Guards!

AMPHITHEUS. Oh, Triptolemus and Ceres, do ye thus forsake your own blood?

DICAEOPOLIS. Prytanes, in expelling this citizen, you are offering an
outrage to the Assembly. He only desired to secure peace for us and to
sheathe the sword.

PRYTANIS. Sit down and keep silence!

DICAEOPOLIS. No, by Apollo, will I not, unless you are going to discuss
the question of peace.

HERALD. The ambassadors, who are returned from the Court of the King!

DICAEOPOLIS. Of what King? I am sick of all those fine birds, the peacock
ambassadors and their swagger.

HERALD. Silence!

DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! oh! by Ecbatana,[161] what assumption!

AN AMBASSADOR. During the archonship of Euthymenes, you sent us to the
Great King on a salary of two drachmae per diem.

DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! those poor drachmae!

AMBASSADOR. We suffered horribly on the plains of the Ca? ster, sleeping
under a tent, stretched deliciously on fine chariots, half dead with
weariness.

DICAEOPOLIS. And I was very much at ease, lying on the straw along the
battlements! [162]

AMBASSADOR. Everywhere we were well received and forced to drink
delicious wine out of golden or crystal flagons. . . .

DICAEOPOLIS. Oh, city of Cranaus,[163] thy ambassadors are laughing at
thee!

AMBASSADOR. For great feeders and heavy drinkers are alone esteemed as
men by the barbarians.

DICAEOPOLIS. Just as here in Athens, we only esteem the most drunken
debauchees.

AMBASSADOR. At the end of the fourth year we reached the King's Court,
but he had left with his whole army to ease himself, and for the space of
eight months he was thus easing himself in midst of the golden
mountains. [164]

DICAEOPOLIS. And how long was he replacing his dress?

AMBASSADOR. The whole period of a full moon; after which he returned to
his palace; then he entertained us and had us served with oxen roasted
whole in an oven.

DICAEOPOLIS. Who ever saw an oxen baked in an oven? What a lie!

AMBASSADOR. On my honour, he also had us served with a bird three times
as large as Cleonymus,[165] and called the Boaster.

DICAEOPOLIS. And do we give you two drachmae, that you should treat us to
all this humbug?

AMBASSADOR. We are bringing to you, Pseudartabas,[166] the King's Eye.

DICAEOPOLIS. I would a crow might pluck out thine with his beak, thou
cursed ambassador!

HERALD. The King's Eye!

DICAEOPOLIS. Eh! Great gods! Friend, with thy great eye, round like the
hole through which the oarsman passes his sweep, you have the air of a
galley doubling a cape to gain the port.

AMBASSADOR. Come, Pseudartabas, give forth the message for the Athenians
with which you were charged by the Great King.

PSEUDARTABAS. Jartaman exarx 'anapissonnai satra. [167]

AMBASSADOR. Do you understand what he says?

DICAEOPOLIS. By Apollo, not I!

AMBASSADOR. He says, that the Great King will send you gold. Come, utter
the word 'gold' louder and more distinctly.

DICAEOPOLIS. Thou shalt not have gold, thou gaping-arsed Ionian. [168]

DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! may the gods forgive me, but that is clear enough.

AMBASSADOR. What does he say?

DICAEOPOLIS. That the Ionians are debauchees and idiots, if they expect
to receive gold from the barbarians.

AMBASSADOR. Not so, he speaks of medimni[169] of gold.


DICAEOPOLIS. What medimni? Thou art but a great braggart; but get your
way, I will find out the truth by myself. Come now, answer me clearly, if
you do not wish me to dye your skin red. Will the Great King send us
gold? (_Pseudartabas makes a negative sign. _) Then our ambassadors are
seeking to deceive us? (_Pseudartabas signs affirmatively. _) These
fellows make signs like any Greek; I am sure that they are nothing but
Athenians. Oh, ho! I recognize one of these eunuchs; it is Clisthenes,
the son of Sibyrtius. [170] Behold the effrontery of this shaven rump!
How! great baboon, with such a beard do you seek to play the eunuch to
us? And this other one? Is it not Straton?

HERALD. Silence! Let all be seated. The Senate invites the King's Eye to
the Prytaneum. [171]

DICAEOPOLIS. Is this not sufficient to drive one to hang oneself? Here I
stand chilled to the bone, whilst the doors of the Prytaneum fly wide
open to lodge such rascals. But I will do something great and bold. Where
is Amphitheus? Come and speak with me.

AMPHITHEUS. Here I am.

DICAEOPOLIS.
Take these eight drachmae and go and conclude a truce with
the Lacedaemonians for me, my wife and my children; I leave you free, my
dear citizens, to send out embassies and to stand gaping in the air.

HERALD. Bring in Theorus, who has returned from the Court of
Sitalces. [172]

THEORUS. I am here.

DICAEOPOLIS. Another humbug!

THEORUS. We should not have remained long in Thrace. . . .

DICAEOPOLIS. Forsooth, no, if you had not been well paid.

THEORUS. . . . If the country had not been covered with snow; the rivers
were ice-bound at the time that Theognis[173] brought out his tragedy
here; during the whole of that time I was holding my own with Sitalces,
cup in hand; and, in truth, he adored you to such a degree, that he wrote
on the walls, "How beautiful are the Athenians! " His son, to whom we gave
the freedom of the city, burned with desire to come here and eat
chitterlings at the feast of the Apaturia;[174] he prayed his father to
come to the aid of his new country and Sitalces swore on his goblet that
he would succour us with such a host that the Athenians would exclaim,
"What a cloud of grasshoppers! "

DICAEOPOLIS. May I die if I believe a word of what you tell us! Excepting
the grasshoppers, there is not a grain of truth in it all!

THEORUS. And he has sent you the most warlike soldiers of all Thrace.

DICAEOPOLIS. Now we shall begin to see clearly.

HERALD. Come hither, Thracians, whom Theorus brought.

DICAEOPOLIS. What plague have we here?

THEORUS. 'Tis the host of the Odomanti. [175]

DICAEOPOLIS. Of the Odomanti? Tell me what it means. Who has mutilated
their tools like this?

THEORUS. If they are given a wage of two drachmae, they will put all
Boeotia[176] to fire and sword.

DICAEOPOLIS. Two drachmae to those circumcised hounds! Groan aloud, ye
people of rowers, bulwark of Athens! Ah! great gods! I am undone; these
Odomanti are robbing me of my garlic! [177] Will you give me back my
garlic?

THEORUS. Oh! wretched man! do not go near them; they have eaten
garlic. [178]

DICAEOPOLIS. Prytanes, will you let me be treated in this manner, in my
own country and by barbarians? But I oppose the discussion of paying a
wage to the Thracians; I announce an omen; I have just felt a drop of
rain. [179]

HERALD. Let the Thracians withdraw and return the day after to-morrow;
the Prytanes declare the sitting at an end.

DICAEOPOLIS. Ye gods, what garlic I have lost! But here comes Amphitheus
returned from Lacedaemon. Welcome, Amphitheus.

AMPHITHEUS. No, there is no welcome for me and I fly as fast as I can,
for I am pursued by the Acharnians.

DICAEOPOLIS. Why, what has happened?

AMPHITHEUS. I was hurrying to bring your treaty of truce, but some old
dotards from Acharnae[180] got scent of the thing; they are veterans of
Marathon, tough as oak or maple, of which they are made for sure--rough
and ruthless. They all set to a-crying, "Wretch! you are the bearer of a
treaty, and the enemy has only just cut our vines! " Meanwhile they were
gathering stones in their cloaks, so I fled and they ran after me
shouting.

DICAEOPOLIS. Let 'em shout as much as they please! But have you brought
me a treaty?

AMPHITHEUS. Most certainly, here are three samples to select from,[181]
this one is five years old; take it and taste.

DICAEOPOLIS. Faugh!

AMPHITHEUS. Well?

DICAEOPOLIS. It does not please me; it smells of pitch and of the ships
they are fitting out. [182]

AMPHITHEUS. Here is another, ten years old; taste it.

DICAEOPOLIS. It smells strongly of the delegates, who go round the towns
to chide the allies for their slowness. [183]

AMPHITHEUS. This last is a truce of thirty years, both on sea and land.

DICAEOPOLIS. Oh! by Bacchus! what a bouquet! It has the aroma of nectar
and ambrosia; this does not say to us, "Provision yourselves for three
days. " But it lisps the gentle numbers, "Go whither you will. "[184] I
accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the Acharnians
to limbo. Freed from the war and its ills, I shall keep the Dionysia[185]
in the country.

AMPHITHEUS. And I shall run away, for I'm mortally afraid of the
Acharnians.

CHORUS. This way all! Let us follow our man; we will demand him of
everyone we meet; the public weal makes his seizure imperative. Ho,
there! tell me which way the bearer of the truce has gone; he has escaped
us, he has disappeared. Curse old age! When I was young, in the days when
I followed Phayllus,[186] running with a sack of coals on my back, this
wretch would not have eluded my pursuit, let him be as swift as he will;
but now my limbs are stiff; old Lacratides[187] feels his legs are
weighty and the traitor escapes me. No, no, let us follow him; old
Acharnians like ourselves shall not be set at naught by a scoundrel, who
has dared, great gods! to conclude a truce, when I wanted the war
continued with double fury in order to avenge my ruined lands. No mercy
for our foes until I have pierced their hearts like a sharp reed, so that
they dare never again ravage my vineyards. Come, let us seek the rascal;
let us look everywhere, carrying our stones in our hands; let us hunt him
from place to place until we trap him; I could never, never tire of the
delight of stoning him.

DICAEOPOLIS. Peace! profane men! [188]

CHORUS. Silence all! Friends, do you hear the sacred formula? Here is he,
whom we seek! This way, all! Get out of his way, surely he comes to offer
an oblation.

DICAEOPOLIS. Peace, profane men! Let the basket-bearer[189] come forward,
and thou, Xanthias, hold the phallus well upright. [190]

WIFE OF DICAEOPOLIS. Daughter, set down the basket and let us begin the
sacrifice.

DAUGHTER OF DICAEOPOLIS. Mother, hand me the ladle, that I may spread the
sauce on the cake.

DICAEOPOLIS. It is well! Oh, mighty Bacchus, it is with joy that, freed
from military duty, I and all mine perform this solemn rite and offer
thee this sacrifice; grant, that I may keep the rural Dionysia without
hindrance and that this truce of thirty years may be propitious for me.

WIFE OF DICAEOPOLIS. Come, my child, carry the basket gracefully and with
a grave, demure face. Happy he, who shall be your possessor and embrace
you so firmly at dawn,[191] that you belch wind like a weasel. Go
forward, and have a care they don't snatch your jewels in the crowd.

DICAEOPOLIS. Xanthias, walk behind the basket-bearer and hold the phallus
well erect; I will follow, singing the Phallic hymn; thou, wife, look on
from the top of the terrace. [192] Forward! Oh, Phales,[193] companion of
the orgies of Bacchus, night reveller, god of adultery, friend of young
men, these past six[194] years I have not been able to invoke thee. With
what joy I return to my farmstead, thanks to the truce I have concluded,
freed from cares, from fighting and from Lamachuses! [195] How much
sweeter, Phales, oh, Phales, is it to surprise Thratta, the pretty
wood-maid, Strymodorus' slave, stealing wood from Mount Phelleus, to
catch her under the arms, to throw her on the ground and possess her! Oh,
Phales, Phales! If thou wilt drink and bemuse thyself with me, we will
to-morrow consume some good dish in honour of the peace, and I will hang
up my buckler over the smoking hearth.

CHORUS. It is he, he himself. Stone him, stone him, stone him, strike the
wretch. All, all of you, pelt him, pelt him!

DICAEOPOLIS. What is this? By Heracles, you will smash my pot. [196]

CHORUS. It is you that we are stoning, you miserable scoundrel.

DICAEOPOLIS. And for what sin, Acharnian Elders, tell me that!

CHORUS. You ask that, you impudent rascal, traitor to your country; you
alone amongst us all have concluded a truce, and you dare to look us in
the face!

DICAEOPOLIS. But you do not know _why_ I have treated for peace. Listen!

CHORUS. Listen to you? No, no, you are about to die, we will annihilate
you with our stones.

DICAEOPOLIS. But first of all, listen. Stop, my friends.

CHORUS. I will hear nothing; do not address me; I hate you more than I do
Cleon,[197] whom one day I shall flay to make sandals for the Knights.
Listen to your long speeches, after you have treated with the Laconians!
No, I will punish you.

DICAEOPOLIS. Friends, leave the Laconians out of debate and consider only
whether I have not done well to conclude my truce.

CHORUS. Done well! when you have treated with a people who know neither
gods, nor truth, nor faith.

DICAEOPOLIS. We attribute too much to the Laconians; as for myself, I
know that they are not the cause of all our troubles.

CHORUS. Oh, indeed, rascal! You dare to use such language to me and then
expect me to spare you!

DICAEOPOLIS. No, no, they are not the cause of all our troubles, and I
who address you claim to be able to prove that they have much to complain
of in us.

CHORUS. This passes endurance; my heart bounds with fury. Thus you dare
to defend our enemies.

DICAEOPOLIS. Were my head on the block I would uphold what I say and rely
on the approval of the people.

CHORUS. Comrades, let us hurl our stones and dye this fellow purple.

DICAEOPOLIS. What black fire-brand has inflamed your heart! You will not
hear me? You really will not, Acharnians?

CHORUS. No, a thousand times, no.

DICAEOPOLIS. This is a hateful injustice.

CHORUS. May I die, if I listen.

DICAEOPOLIS. Nay, nay! have mercy, have mercy, Acharnians.

CHORUS. You shall die.

DICAEOPOLIS. Well, blood for blood! I will kill your dearest friend. I
have here the hostages of Acharnae;[198] I shall disembowel them.