Lysistrata | Page 8

I could scarcely get
near to the spring though I rose before dawn, What with tattling of
tongues and rattling of pitchers in one jostling din With slaves pushing
in!....
Still here at last the water's drawn And with it eagerly I run To help
those of my friends who stand In danger of being burned alive. For I
am told a dribbling band Of greybeards hobble to the field, Great
faggots in each palsied hand, As if a hot bath to prepare, And
threatening that out they'll drive These wicked women or soon leave
them charring into ashes there. O Goddess, suffer not, I pray, this harsh
deed to be done, But show us Greece and Athens with their warlike acts
repealed! For this alone, in this thy hold, Thou Goddess with the helm
of gold, We laid hands on thy sanctuary, Athene.... Then our ally be
And where they cast their fires of slaughter Direct our water!
STRATYLLIS (_caught_)
Let me go!
WOMEN
You villainous old men, what's this you do? No honest man, no pious
man, could do such things as you.
MEN
Ah ha, here's something most original, I have no doubt: A swarm of
women sentinels to man the walls without.
WOMEN

So then we scare you, do we? Do we seem a fearful host? You only see
the smallest fraction mustered at this post.
MEN
Ho, Phaedrias, shall we put a stop to all these chattering tricks?
Suppose that now upon their backs we splintered these our sticks?
WOMEN
Let us lay down the pitchers, so our bodies will be free, In case these
lumping fellows try to cause some injury.
MEN
O hit them hard and hit again and hit until they run away, And perhaps
they'll learn, like Bupalus, not to have too much to say.
WOMEN
Come on, then--do it! I won't budge, but like a dog I'll bite At every
little scrap of meat that dangles in my sight.
MEN
Be quiet, or I'll bash you out of any years to come.
WOMEN
Now you just touch Stratyllis with the top-joint of your thumb.
MEN
What vengeance can you take if with my fists your face I beat?
WOMEN
I'll rip you with my teeth and strew your entrails at your feet.

MEN
Now I appreciate Euripides' strange subtlety: Woman is the most
shameless beast of all the beasts that be.
WOMEN
Rhodippe, come, and let's pick up our water-jars once more.
MEN
Ah cursed drab, what have you brought this water for?
WOMEN
What is your fire for then, you smelly corpse? Yourself to burn?
MEN
To build a pyre and make your comrades ready for the urn.
WOMEN
And I've the water to put out your fire immediately.
MEN
What, you put out my fire?
WOMEN
Yes, sirrah, as you soon will see.
MEN
I don't know why I hesitate to roast you with this flame.
WOMEN
If you have any soap you'll go off cleaner than you came.

MEN
Cleaner, you dirty slut?
WOMEN
A nuptial-bath in which to lie!
MEN
Did you hear that insolence?
WOMEN
I'm a free woman, I.
MEN
I'll make you hold your tongue.
WOMEN
Henceforth you'll serve in no more juries.
MEN
Burn off her hair for her.
WOMEN
Now forward, water, quench their furies!
MEN
O dear, O dear!
WOMEN
So ... was it hot?

MEN
Hot! ... Enough, O hold.
WOMEN
Watered, perhaps you'll bloom again--why not?
MEN
Brrr, I'm wrinkled up from shivering with cold.
WOMEN
Next time you've fire you'll warm yourself and leave us to our lot.
MAGISTRATE enters with attendant SCYTHIANS.
MAGISTRATE
Have the luxurious rites of the women glittered Their libertine show,
their drumming tapped out crowds, The Sabazian Mysteries summoned
their mob, Adonis been wept to death on the terraces, As I could hear
the last day in the Assembly? For Demostratus--let bad luck befoul
him-- Was roaring, "We must sail for Sicily," While a woman,
throwing herself about in a dance Lopsided with drink, was shrilling
out "Adonis, Woe for Adonis." Then Demostratus shouted, "We must
levy hoplites at Zacynthus," And there the woman, up to the ears in
wine, Was screaming "Weep for Adonis" on the house-top, The
scoundrelly politician, that lunatic ox, Bellowing bad advice through
tipsy shrieks: Such are the follies wantoning in them.
MEN
O if you knew their full effronery! All of the insults they've done,
besides sousing us With water from their pots to our public disgrace
For we stand here wringing our clothes like grown-up infants.
MAGISTRATE

By Poseidon, justly done! For in part with us The blame must lie for
dissolute behaviour And for the pampered appetites they learn. Thus
grows the seedling lust to blossoming: We go into a shop and say,
"Here, goldsmith, You remember the necklace