Know then, that the Moon and that
infamous
Sun are plotting
against you, and want to deliver Greece into the hands of the Barbarians.
against you, and want to deliver Greece into the hands of the Barbarians.
Aristophanes
[_Exit.
_
TRYGAEUS. Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are? See
the danger that threatens if he returns with the pestle, for War will
quietly amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces.
Ah! Bacchus! cause this herald of evil to perish on his road!
WAR. Well!
TUMULT (_who has returned_). Well, what?
WAR. You have brought back nothing?
TUMULT. Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle--the tanner, who
ground Greece to powder. [280]
TRYGAEUS. Oh! Athene, venerable mistress! 'tis well for our city he is
dead, and before he could serve us with this hash.
WAR. Then go and seek one at Sparta and have done with it!
TUMULT. Aye, aye, master!
WAR. Be back as quick as ever you can.
TRYGAEUS (_to the audience_). What is going to happen, friends? 'Tis a
critical hour. Ah! if there is some initiate of Samothrace[281] among
you, 'tis surely the moment to wish this messenger some accident--some
sprain or strain.
TUMULT (_who returns_). Alas! alas! thrice again, alas!
WAR. What is it? Again you come back without it?
TUMULT. The Spartans too have lost their pestle.
WAR. How, varlet?
TUMULT. They had lent it to their allies in Thrace,[282] who have lost it
for them.
TRYGAEUS. Long life to you, Thracians! My hopes revive, pluck up courage,
mortals!
WAR. Take all this stuff away; I am going in to make a pestle for myself.
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis now the time to sing as Datis did, as he masturbated
himself at high noon, "Oh pleasure! oh enjoyment! oh delights! " 'Tis now,
oh Greeks! the moment when freed of quarrels and fighting, we should
rescue sweet Peace and draw her out of this pit, before some other pestle
prevents us. Come, labourers, merchants, workmen, artisans, strangers,
whether you be domiciled or not, islanders, come here, Greeks of all
countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! 'Tis the
moment to drain a cup in honour of the Good Genius.
CHORUS. Come hither, all! quick, quick, hasten to the rescue! All peoples
of Greece, now is the time or never, for you to help each other. You see
yourselves freed from battles and all their horrors of bloodshed. The
day, hateful to Lamachus,[283] has come. Come then, what must be done?
Give your orders, direct us, for I swear to work this day without
ceasing, until with the help of our levers and our engines we have drawn
back into light the greatest of all goddesses, her to whom the olive is
so dear.
TRYGAEUS. Silence! if War should hear your shouts of joy he would bound
forth from his retreat in fury.
CHORUS. Such a decree overwhelms us with joy; how different to the edict,
which bade us muster with provisions for three days. [284]
TRYGAEUS. Let us beware lest the cursed Cerberus[285] prevent us even
from the nethermost hell from delivering the goddess by his furious
howling, just as he did when on earth.
CHORUS. Once we have hold of her, none in the world will be able to take
her from us. Huzza! huzza! [286]
TRYGAEUS. You will work my death if you don't subdue your shouts. War
will come running out and trample everything beneath his feet.
CHORUS. Well then! _Let_ him confound, let him trample, let him overturn
everything! We cannot help giving vent to our joy.
TRYGAEUS. Oh! cruel fate! My friends! in the name of the gods, what
possesses you? Your dancing will wreck the success of a fine undertaking.
CHORUS. 'Tis not I who want to dance; 'tis my legs that bound with
delight.
TRYGAEUS. Enough, an you love me, cease your gambols.
CHORUS. There! Tis over.
TRYGAEUS. You say so, and nevertheless you go on.
CHORUS. Yet one more figure and 'tis done.
TRYGAEUS. Well, just this one; then you must dance no more.
CHORUS. No, no more dancing, if we can help you.
TRYGAEUS. But look, you are not stopping even now.
CHORUS. By Zeus, I am only throwing up my right leg, that's all.
TRYGAEUS. Come, I grant you that, but pray, annoy me no further.
CHORUS. Ah! the left leg too will have its fling; well, 'tis but its
right. I am so happy, so delighted at not having to carry my buckler any
more. I sing and I laugh more than if I had cast my old age, as a serpent
does its skin.
TRYGAEUS. No, 'tis no time for joy yet, for you are not sure of success.
But when you have got the goddess, then rejoice, shout and laugh;
thenceforward you will be able to sail or stay at home, to make love or
sleep, to attend festivals and processions, to play at cottabos,[287]
live like true Sybarites and to shout, Io, io!
CHORUS. Ah! God grant we may see the blessed day. I have suffered so
much; have so oft slept with Phormio[288] on hard beds. You will no
longer find me an acid, angry, hard judge as heretofore, but will find me
turned indulgent and grown younger by twenty years through happiness. We
have been killing ourselves long enough, tiring ourselves out with going
to the Lyceum[289] and returning laden with spear and buckler. --But what
can we do to please you? Come, speak; for 'tis a good Fate, that has
named you our leader.
TRYGAEUS. How shall we set about removing these stones?
HERMES. Rash reprobate, what do you propose doing?
TRYGAEUS. Nothing bad, as Cillicon said. [290]
HERMES. You are undone, you wretch.
TRYGAEUS. Yes, if the lot had to decide my life, for Hermes would know
how to turn the chance. [291]
HERMES. You are lost, you are dead.
TRYGAEUS. On what day?
HERMES. This instant.
TRYGAEUS. But I have not provided myself with flour and cheese yet[292]
to start for death.
HERMES. You _are_ kneaded and ground already, I tell you. [293]
TRYGAEUS. Hah! I have not yet tasted that gentle pleasure.
HERMES. Don't you know that Zeus has decreed death for him who is
surprised exhuming Peace?
TRYGAEUS. What! must I really and truly die?
HERMES. You must.
TRYGAEUS. Well then, lend me three drachmae to buy a young pig; I wish to
have myself initiated before I die. [294]
HERMES. Oh! Zeus, the Thunderer! [295]
TRYGAEUS. I adjure you in the name of the gods, master, don't denounce
us!
HERMES. I may not, I cannot keep silent.
TRYGAEUS. In the name of the meats which I brought you so good-naturedly.
HERMES. Why, wretched man, Zeus will annihilate me, if I do not shout out
at the top of my voice, to inform him what you are plotting.
TRYGAEUS. Oh, no! don't shout, I beg you, dear little Hermes. . . . And what
are you doing, comrades? You stand there as though you were stocks and
stones. Wretched men, speak, entreat him at once; otherwise he will be
shouting.
CHORUS. Oh! mighty Hermes! don't do it; no, don't do it! If ever you have
eaten some young pig, sacrificed by us on your altars, with pleasure, may
this offering not be without value in your sight to-day.
TRYGAEUS. Do you not hear them wheedling you, mighty god?
CHORUS. Be not pitiless toward our prayers; permit us to deliver the
goddess. Oh! the most human, the most generous of the gods, be favourable
toward us, if it be true that you detest the haughty crests and proud
brows of Pisander;[296] we shall never cease, oh master, offering you
sacred victims and solemn prayers.
TRYGAEUS. Have mercy, mercy, let yourself be touched by their words;
never was your worship so dear to them as to-day.
HERMES. I' truth, never have you been greater thieves. [297]
TRYGAEUS. I will reveal a great, a terrible conspiracy against the gods
to you.
HERMES. Hah! speak and perchance I shall let myself be softened.
TRYGAEUS.
Know then, that the Moon and that infamous Sun are plotting
against you, and want to deliver Greece into the hands of the Barbarians.
HERMES. What for?
TRYGAEUS. Because it is to you that we sacrifice, whereas the barbarians
worship them; hence they would like to see you destroyed, that they alone
might receive the offerings.
HERMES. 'Tis then for this reason that these untrustworthy charioteers
have for so long been defrauding us, one of them robbing us of daylight
and the other nibbling away at the other's disk. [298]
TRYGAEUS. Yes, certainly. So therefore, Hermes, my friend, help us with
your whole heart to find and deliver the captive and we will celebrate
the great Panathenaea[299] in your honour as well as all the festivals of
the other gods; for Hermes shall be the Mysteries, the Dipolia, the
Adonia; everywhere the towns, freed from their miseries, will sacrifice
to Hermes, the Liberator; you will be loaded with benefits of every kind,
and to start with, I offer you this cup for libations as your first
present.
HERMES. Ah! how golden cups do influence me! Come, friends, get to work.
To the pit quickly, pick in hand and drag away the stones.
CHORUS. We go, but you, the cleverest of all the gods, supervise our
labours; tell us, good workman as you are, what we must do; we shall obey
your orders with alacrity.
TRYGAEUS. Quick, reach me your cup, and let us preface our work by
addressing prayers to the gods.
HERMES. Oh! sacred, sacred libations! Keep silence, oh! ye people! keep
silence!
TRYGAEUS. Let us offer our libations and our prayers, so that this day
may begin an era of unalloyed happiness for Greece and that he who has
bravely pulled at the rope with us may never resume his buckler.
CHORUS. Aye, may we pass our lives in peace, caressing our mistresses and
poking the fire.
TRYGAEUS. May he who would prefer the war, oh Dionysus, be ever drawing
barbed arrows out of his elbows.
CHORUS. If there be a citizen, greedy for military rank and honours, who
refuses, oh, divine Peace! to restore you to daylight, may he behave as
cowardly as Cleonymus on the battlefield.
TRYGAEUS. If a lance-maker or a dealer in shields desires war for the
sake of better trade, may he be taken by pirates and eat nothing but
barley.
CHORUS. If some ambitious man does not help us, because he wants to
become a General, or if a slave is plotting to pass over to the enemy,
let his limbs be broken on the wheel, may he be beaten to death with
rods! As for us, may Fortune favour us! Io! Paean, Io!
TRYGAEUS. Don't say Paean,[300] but simply, Io.
CHORUS. Very well, then! Io! Io! I'll simply say, Io!
TRYGAEUS. To Hermes, the Graces, Hora, Aphrodite, Eros!
CHORUS. And not to Ares?
TRYGAEUS. No.
CHORUS. Nor doubtless to Enyalius?
TRYGAEUS. No.
CHORUS. Come, all strain at the ropes to tear away the stones. Pull!
HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
CHORUS. Come, pull harder, harder.
HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
CHORUS. Still harder, harder still.
HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
TRYGAEUS. Come, come, there is no working together. Come! all pull at the
same instant! you Boeotians are only pretending. Beware!
HERMES. Come, heave away, heave!
CHORUS. Hi! you two pull as well.
TRYGAEUS. Why, I am pulling, I am hanging on to the rope and straining
till I am almost off my feet; I am working with all my might.
HERMES. Why does not the work advance then?
TRYGAEUS. Lamachus, this is too bad! You are in the way, sitting there.
We have no use for your Medusa's head, friend. [301]
HERMES. But hold, the Argives have not pulled the least bit; they have
done nothing but laugh at us for our pains while they were getting gain
with both hands. [302]
TRYGAEUS. Ah! my dear sir, the Laconians at all events pull with vigour.
CHORUS. But look! only those among them who generally hold the
plough-tail show any zeal,[303] while the armourers impede them in their
efforts.
HERMES. And the Megarians too are doing nothing, yet look how they are
pulling and showing their teeth like famished curs; the poor wretches are
dying of hunger! [304]
TRYGAEUS. This won't do, friends. Come! all together! Everyone to the
work and with a good heart for the business.
HERMES. Heave away, heave!
TRYGAEUS. Harder!
HERMES. Heave away, heave!
TRYGAEUS. Come on then, by heaven.
HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave!
CHORUS. This will never do.
TRYGAEUS. Is it not a shame? some pull one way and others another. You,
Argives there, beware of a thrashing!
HERMES. Come, put your strength into it.
TRYGAEUS. Heave away, heave!
CHORUS. There are many ill-disposed folk among us.
TRYGAEUS. Do you at least, who long for peace, pull heartily.
CHORUS. But there are some who prevent us.
HERMES. Off to the Devil with you, Megarians! The goddess hates you. She
recollects that you were the first to rub her the wrong way. Athenians,
you are not well placed for pulling. There you are too busy with
law-suits; if you really want to free the goddess, get down a little
towards the sea. [305]
CHORUS. Come, friends, none but husbandmen on the rope.
HERMES. Ah! that will do ever so much better.
CHORUS. He says the thing is going well. Come, all of you, together and
with a will.
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis the husbandmen who are doing all the work.
CHORUS. Come then, come, and all together! Hah! hah! at last there is
some unanimity in the work. Don't let us give up, let us redouble our
efforts. There! now we have it! Come then, all together! Heave away,
heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave
away, heave! All together! (_Peace is drawn out of the pit. _)
TRYGAEUS. Oh! venerated goddess, who givest us our grapes, where am I to
find the ten-thousand-gallon words[306] wherewith to greet thee? I have
none such at home. Oh! hail to thee, Opora,[307] and thou, Theoria! [308]
How beautiful is thy face! How sweet thy breath! What gentle fragrance
comes from thy bosom, gentle as freedom from military duty, as the most
dainty perfumes!
HERMES. Is it then a smell like a soldier's knapsack?
CHORUS. Oh! hateful soldier! your hideous satchel makes me sick! it
stinks like the belching of onions, whereas this lovable deity has the
odour of sweet fruits, of festivals, of the Dionysia, of the harmony of
flutes, of the comic poets, of the verses of Sophocles, of the phrases of
Euripides. . .
TRYGAEUS. That's a foul calumny, you wretch! She detests that framer of
subtleties and quibbles.
CHORUS. . . . of ivy, of straining-bags for wine, of bleating ewes, of
provision-laden women hastening to the kitchen, of the tipsy servant
wench, of the upturned wine-jar, and of a whole heap of other good
things.
HERMES. Then look how the reconciled towns chat pleasantly together, how
they laugh; and yet they are all cruelly mishandled; their wounds are
bleeding still.
TRYGAEUS. But let us also scan the mien of the spectators; we shall thus
find out the trade of each.
HERMES. Ah! good gods! look at that poor crest-maker, tearing at his
hair,[309] and at that pike-maker, who has just broken wind in yon
sword-cutler's face.
TRYGAEUS. And do you see with what pleasure this sickle-maker is making
long noses at the spear-maker?
TRYGAEUS. Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are? See
the danger that threatens if he returns with the pestle, for War will
quietly amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces.
Ah! Bacchus! cause this herald of evil to perish on his road!
WAR. Well!
TUMULT (_who has returned_). Well, what?
WAR. You have brought back nothing?
TUMULT. Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle--the tanner, who
ground Greece to powder. [280]
TRYGAEUS. Oh! Athene, venerable mistress! 'tis well for our city he is
dead, and before he could serve us with this hash.
WAR. Then go and seek one at Sparta and have done with it!
TUMULT. Aye, aye, master!
WAR. Be back as quick as ever you can.
TRYGAEUS (_to the audience_). What is going to happen, friends? 'Tis a
critical hour. Ah! if there is some initiate of Samothrace[281] among
you, 'tis surely the moment to wish this messenger some accident--some
sprain or strain.
TUMULT (_who returns_). Alas! alas! thrice again, alas!
WAR. What is it? Again you come back without it?
TUMULT. The Spartans too have lost their pestle.
WAR. How, varlet?
TUMULT. They had lent it to their allies in Thrace,[282] who have lost it
for them.
TRYGAEUS. Long life to you, Thracians! My hopes revive, pluck up courage,
mortals!
WAR. Take all this stuff away; I am going in to make a pestle for myself.
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis now the time to sing as Datis did, as he masturbated
himself at high noon, "Oh pleasure! oh enjoyment! oh delights! " 'Tis now,
oh Greeks! the moment when freed of quarrels and fighting, we should
rescue sweet Peace and draw her out of this pit, before some other pestle
prevents us. Come, labourers, merchants, workmen, artisans, strangers,
whether you be domiciled or not, islanders, come here, Greeks of all
countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! 'Tis the
moment to drain a cup in honour of the Good Genius.
CHORUS. Come hither, all! quick, quick, hasten to the rescue! All peoples
of Greece, now is the time or never, for you to help each other. You see
yourselves freed from battles and all their horrors of bloodshed. The
day, hateful to Lamachus,[283] has come. Come then, what must be done?
Give your orders, direct us, for I swear to work this day without
ceasing, until with the help of our levers and our engines we have drawn
back into light the greatest of all goddesses, her to whom the olive is
so dear.
TRYGAEUS. Silence! if War should hear your shouts of joy he would bound
forth from his retreat in fury.
CHORUS. Such a decree overwhelms us with joy; how different to the edict,
which bade us muster with provisions for three days. [284]
TRYGAEUS. Let us beware lest the cursed Cerberus[285] prevent us even
from the nethermost hell from delivering the goddess by his furious
howling, just as he did when on earth.
CHORUS. Once we have hold of her, none in the world will be able to take
her from us. Huzza! huzza! [286]
TRYGAEUS. You will work my death if you don't subdue your shouts. War
will come running out and trample everything beneath his feet.
CHORUS. Well then! _Let_ him confound, let him trample, let him overturn
everything! We cannot help giving vent to our joy.
TRYGAEUS. Oh! cruel fate! My friends! in the name of the gods, what
possesses you? Your dancing will wreck the success of a fine undertaking.
CHORUS. 'Tis not I who want to dance; 'tis my legs that bound with
delight.
TRYGAEUS. Enough, an you love me, cease your gambols.
CHORUS. There! Tis over.
TRYGAEUS. You say so, and nevertheless you go on.
CHORUS. Yet one more figure and 'tis done.
TRYGAEUS. Well, just this one; then you must dance no more.
CHORUS. No, no more dancing, if we can help you.
TRYGAEUS. But look, you are not stopping even now.
CHORUS. By Zeus, I am only throwing up my right leg, that's all.
TRYGAEUS. Come, I grant you that, but pray, annoy me no further.
CHORUS. Ah! the left leg too will have its fling; well, 'tis but its
right. I am so happy, so delighted at not having to carry my buckler any
more. I sing and I laugh more than if I had cast my old age, as a serpent
does its skin.
TRYGAEUS. No, 'tis no time for joy yet, for you are not sure of success.
But when you have got the goddess, then rejoice, shout and laugh;
thenceforward you will be able to sail or stay at home, to make love or
sleep, to attend festivals and processions, to play at cottabos,[287]
live like true Sybarites and to shout, Io, io!
CHORUS. Ah! God grant we may see the blessed day. I have suffered so
much; have so oft slept with Phormio[288] on hard beds. You will no
longer find me an acid, angry, hard judge as heretofore, but will find me
turned indulgent and grown younger by twenty years through happiness. We
have been killing ourselves long enough, tiring ourselves out with going
to the Lyceum[289] and returning laden with spear and buckler. --But what
can we do to please you? Come, speak; for 'tis a good Fate, that has
named you our leader.
TRYGAEUS. How shall we set about removing these stones?
HERMES. Rash reprobate, what do you propose doing?
TRYGAEUS. Nothing bad, as Cillicon said. [290]
HERMES. You are undone, you wretch.
TRYGAEUS. Yes, if the lot had to decide my life, for Hermes would know
how to turn the chance. [291]
HERMES. You are lost, you are dead.
TRYGAEUS. On what day?
HERMES. This instant.
TRYGAEUS. But I have not provided myself with flour and cheese yet[292]
to start for death.
HERMES. You _are_ kneaded and ground already, I tell you. [293]
TRYGAEUS. Hah! I have not yet tasted that gentle pleasure.
HERMES. Don't you know that Zeus has decreed death for him who is
surprised exhuming Peace?
TRYGAEUS. What! must I really and truly die?
HERMES. You must.
TRYGAEUS. Well then, lend me three drachmae to buy a young pig; I wish to
have myself initiated before I die. [294]
HERMES. Oh! Zeus, the Thunderer! [295]
TRYGAEUS. I adjure you in the name of the gods, master, don't denounce
us!
HERMES. I may not, I cannot keep silent.
TRYGAEUS. In the name of the meats which I brought you so good-naturedly.
HERMES. Why, wretched man, Zeus will annihilate me, if I do not shout out
at the top of my voice, to inform him what you are plotting.
TRYGAEUS. Oh, no! don't shout, I beg you, dear little Hermes. . . . And what
are you doing, comrades? You stand there as though you were stocks and
stones. Wretched men, speak, entreat him at once; otherwise he will be
shouting.
CHORUS. Oh! mighty Hermes! don't do it; no, don't do it! If ever you have
eaten some young pig, sacrificed by us on your altars, with pleasure, may
this offering not be without value in your sight to-day.
TRYGAEUS. Do you not hear them wheedling you, mighty god?
CHORUS. Be not pitiless toward our prayers; permit us to deliver the
goddess. Oh! the most human, the most generous of the gods, be favourable
toward us, if it be true that you detest the haughty crests and proud
brows of Pisander;[296] we shall never cease, oh master, offering you
sacred victims and solemn prayers.
TRYGAEUS. Have mercy, mercy, let yourself be touched by their words;
never was your worship so dear to them as to-day.
HERMES. I' truth, never have you been greater thieves. [297]
TRYGAEUS. I will reveal a great, a terrible conspiracy against the gods
to you.
HERMES. Hah! speak and perchance I shall let myself be softened.
TRYGAEUS.
Know then, that the Moon and that infamous Sun are plotting
against you, and want to deliver Greece into the hands of the Barbarians.
HERMES. What for?
TRYGAEUS. Because it is to you that we sacrifice, whereas the barbarians
worship them; hence they would like to see you destroyed, that they alone
might receive the offerings.
HERMES. 'Tis then for this reason that these untrustworthy charioteers
have for so long been defrauding us, one of them robbing us of daylight
and the other nibbling away at the other's disk. [298]
TRYGAEUS. Yes, certainly. So therefore, Hermes, my friend, help us with
your whole heart to find and deliver the captive and we will celebrate
the great Panathenaea[299] in your honour as well as all the festivals of
the other gods; for Hermes shall be the Mysteries, the Dipolia, the
Adonia; everywhere the towns, freed from their miseries, will sacrifice
to Hermes, the Liberator; you will be loaded with benefits of every kind,
and to start with, I offer you this cup for libations as your first
present.
HERMES. Ah! how golden cups do influence me! Come, friends, get to work.
To the pit quickly, pick in hand and drag away the stones.
CHORUS. We go, but you, the cleverest of all the gods, supervise our
labours; tell us, good workman as you are, what we must do; we shall obey
your orders with alacrity.
TRYGAEUS. Quick, reach me your cup, and let us preface our work by
addressing prayers to the gods.
HERMES. Oh! sacred, sacred libations! Keep silence, oh! ye people! keep
silence!
TRYGAEUS. Let us offer our libations and our prayers, so that this day
may begin an era of unalloyed happiness for Greece and that he who has
bravely pulled at the rope with us may never resume his buckler.
CHORUS. Aye, may we pass our lives in peace, caressing our mistresses and
poking the fire.
TRYGAEUS. May he who would prefer the war, oh Dionysus, be ever drawing
barbed arrows out of his elbows.
CHORUS. If there be a citizen, greedy for military rank and honours, who
refuses, oh, divine Peace! to restore you to daylight, may he behave as
cowardly as Cleonymus on the battlefield.
TRYGAEUS. If a lance-maker or a dealer in shields desires war for the
sake of better trade, may he be taken by pirates and eat nothing but
barley.
CHORUS. If some ambitious man does not help us, because he wants to
become a General, or if a slave is plotting to pass over to the enemy,
let his limbs be broken on the wheel, may he be beaten to death with
rods! As for us, may Fortune favour us! Io! Paean, Io!
TRYGAEUS. Don't say Paean,[300] but simply, Io.
CHORUS. Very well, then! Io! Io! I'll simply say, Io!
TRYGAEUS. To Hermes, the Graces, Hora, Aphrodite, Eros!
CHORUS. And not to Ares?
TRYGAEUS. No.
CHORUS. Nor doubtless to Enyalius?
TRYGAEUS. No.
CHORUS. Come, all strain at the ropes to tear away the stones. Pull!
HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
CHORUS. Come, pull harder, harder.
HERMES. Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
CHORUS. Still harder, harder still.
HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave, heave, oh!
TRYGAEUS. Come, come, there is no working together. Come! all pull at the
same instant! you Boeotians are only pretending. Beware!
HERMES. Come, heave away, heave!
CHORUS. Hi! you two pull as well.
TRYGAEUS. Why, I am pulling, I am hanging on to the rope and straining
till I am almost off my feet; I am working with all my might.
HERMES. Why does not the work advance then?
TRYGAEUS. Lamachus, this is too bad! You are in the way, sitting there.
We have no use for your Medusa's head, friend. [301]
HERMES. But hold, the Argives have not pulled the least bit; they have
done nothing but laugh at us for our pains while they were getting gain
with both hands. [302]
TRYGAEUS. Ah! my dear sir, the Laconians at all events pull with vigour.
CHORUS. But look! only those among them who generally hold the
plough-tail show any zeal,[303] while the armourers impede them in their
efforts.
HERMES. And the Megarians too are doing nothing, yet look how they are
pulling and showing their teeth like famished curs; the poor wretches are
dying of hunger! [304]
TRYGAEUS. This won't do, friends. Come! all together! Everyone to the
work and with a good heart for the business.
HERMES. Heave away, heave!
TRYGAEUS. Harder!
HERMES. Heave away, heave!
TRYGAEUS. Come on then, by heaven.
HERMES. Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave!
CHORUS. This will never do.
TRYGAEUS. Is it not a shame? some pull one way and others another. You,
Argives there, beware of a thrashing!
HERMES. Come, put your strength into it.
TRYGAEUS. Heave away, heave!
CHORUS. There are many ill-disposed folk among us.
TRYGAEUS. Do you at least, who long for peace, pull heartily.
CHORUS. But there are some who prevent us.
HERMES. Off to the Devil with you, Megarians! The goddess hates you. She
recollects that you were the first to rub her the wrong way. Athenians,
you are not well placed for pulling. There you are too busy with
law-suits; if you really want to free the goddess, get down a little
towards the sea. [305]
CHORUS. Come, friends, none but husbandmen on the rope.
HERMES. Ah! that will do ever so much better.
CHORUS. He says the thing is going well. Come, all of you, together and
with a will.
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis the husbandmen who are doing all the work.
CHORUS. Come then, come, and all together! Hah! hah! at last there is
some unanimity in the work. Don't let us give up, let us redouble our
efforts. There! now we have it! Come then, all together! Heave away,
heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave
away, heave! All together! (_Peace is drawn out of the pit. _)
TRYGAEUS. Oh! venerated goddess, who givest us our grapes, where am I to
find the ten-thousand-gallon words[306] wherewith to greet thee? I have
none such at home. Oh! hail to thee, Opora,[307] and thou, Theoria! [308]
How beautiful is thy face! How sweet thy breath! What gentle fragrance
comes from thy bosom, gentle as freedom from military duty, as the most
dainty perfumes!
HERMES. Is it then a smell like a soldier's knapsack?
CHORUS. Oh! hateful soldier! your hideous satchel makes me sick! it
stinks like the belching of onions, whereas this lovable deity has the
odour of sweet fruits, of festivals, of the Dionysia, of the harmony of
flutes, of the comic poets, of the verses of Sophocles, of the phrases of
Euripides. . .
TRYGAEUS. That's a foul calumny, you wretch! She detests that framer of
subtleties and quibbles.
CHORUS. . . . of ivy, of straining-bags for wine, of bleating ewes, of
provision-laden women hastening to the kitchen, of the tipsy servant
wench, of the upturned wine-jar, and of a whole heap of other good
things.
HERMES. Then look how the reconciled towns chat pleasantly together, how
they laugh; and yet they are all cruelly mishandled; their wounds are
bleeding still.
TRYGAEUS. But let us also scan the mien of the spectators; we shall thus
find out the trade of each.
HERMES. Ah! good gods! look at that poor crest-maker, tearing at his
hair,[309] and at that pike-maker, who has just broken wind in yon
sword-cutler's face.
TRYGAEUS. And do you see with what pleasure this sickle-maker is making
long noses at the spear-maker?
