Peace

HERMES Very well, then! Io! Io! I'll simply say, Io!

TRYGAEUS To Hermes, the Graces, Hora, Aphrodite, Eros!

CHORUS But 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.

CHORUS 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.(1)

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.(1)

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,(1) 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!(1)

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.(1)

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(1) wherewith to greet thee? I have none such at home. Oh! hail to thee, Opora,(2) and thee, Theoria!(3) 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?

TRYGAEUS 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...

HERMES That's a foul calumny, you wretch! She detests that framer of subtleties and quibbles.

TRYGAEUS ...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,(1) 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?

HERMES Now ask the husbandmen to be off.

TRYGAEUS Listen, good folk! Let the husbandmen take their farming tools and return to their fields as quick as possible, but without either sword, spear or javelin. All is as quiet as if Peace had been reigning for a century. Come, let everyone go till the earth, singing the Paean.

CHORUS Oh, thou, whom men of standing desired and who art good to husbandmen, I have gazed upon thee with delight; and now I go to greet my vines, to caress after so long an absence the fig trees I planted in my youth.

TRYGAEUS Friends, let us first adore the goddess, who has delivered us from crests and Gorgons;(1) then let us hurry to our farms, having first bought a nice little piece of salt fish to eat in the fields.

HERMES By Posidon! what a fine crew they make and dense as the crust of a cake; they are as nimble as guests on their way to a feast.

TRYGAEUS See, how their iron spades glitter and how beautifully their three-pronged mattocks glisten in the sun! How regularly they align the plants! I also burn myself to go into the country and to turn over the earth I have so long neglected.—Friends, do you remember the happy life that Peace afforded us formerly; can you recall the splendid baskets of figs, both fresh and dried, the myrtles, the sweet wine, the violets blooming near the spring, and the olives, for which we have wept so much? Worship, adore the goddess for restoring you so many blessings.

CHORUS Hail! hail! thou beloved divinity! thy return overwhelms us with joy. When far from thee, my ardent wish to see my fields again made me pine with regret. From thee came all blessings. Oh! much desired Peace! thou art the sole support of those who spend their lives tilling the earth. Under thy rule we had a thousand delicious enjoyments at our beck; thou wert the husbandman's wheaten cake and his safeguard. So that our vineyards, our young fig-tree woods and all our plantations hail thee with delight and smile at thy coming. But where was she then, I wonder, all the long time she spent away from us? Hermes, thou benevolent god, tell us!

HERMES Wise husbandmen, hearken to my words, if you want to know why she was lost to you. The start of our misfortunes was the exile of Phidias;(1) Pericles feared he might share his ill-luck, he mistrusted your peevish nature and, to prevent all danger to himself, he threw out that little spark, the Megarian decree,(2) set the city aflame, and blew up the conflagration with a hurricane of war, so that the smoke drew tears from all Greeks both here and over there. At the very outset of this fire our vines were a-crackle, our casks knocked together;(3) it was beyond the power of any man to stop the disaster, and Peace disappeared.

TRYGAEUS That, by Apollo! is what no one ever told me; I could not think what connection there could be between Phidias and Peace.

CHORUS Nor I; I know it now. This accounts for her beauty, if she is related to him. There are so many things that escape us.

HERMES Then, when the towns subject to you saw that you were angered one against the other and were showing each other your teeth like dogs, they hatched a thousand plots to pay you no more dues and gained over the chief citizens of Sparta at the price of gold. They, being as shamelessly greedy as they were faithless in diplomacy, chased off Peace with ignominy to let loose War. Though this was profitable to them, 'twas the ruin of the husbandmen, who were innocent of all blame; for, in revenge, your galleys went out to devour their figs.

TRYGAEUS And 'twas with justice too; did they not break down my black fig tree, which I had planted and dunged with my own hands?

CHORUS Yes, by Zeus! yes, 'twas well done; the wretches broke a chest for me with stones, which held six medimni of corn.

HERMES Then the rural labourers flocked into the city(1) and let themselves be bought over like the others. Not having even a grape-stone to munch and longing after their figs, they looked towards the orators.(2) These well knew that the poor were driven to extremity and lacked even bread; but they nevertheless drove away the Goddess, each time she reappeared in answer to the wish of the country, with their loud shrieks that were as sharp as pitchforks; furthermore, they attacked the well-filled purses of the richest among our allies on the pretence that they belonged to Brasidas' party.(3) And then you would tear the poor accused wretch to pieces with your teeth; for the city, all pale with hunger and cowed with terror, gladly snapped up any calumny that was thrown it to devour. So the strangers, seeing what terrible blows the informers dealt, sealed their lips with gold. They grew rich, while you, alas! you could only see that Greece was going to ruin. 'Twas the tanner who was the author of all this woe.(4)

TRYGAEUS Enough said, Hermes, leave that man in Hades, whither he has gone; he no longer belongs to us, but rather to yourself.(1) That he was a cheat, a braggart, a calumniator when alive, why, nothing could be truer; but anything you might say now would be an insult to one of your own folk. Oh! venerated Goddess! why art thou silent?

HERMES And how could she speak to the spectators? She is too angry at all that they have made her suffer.

TRYGAEUS At least let her speak a little to you, Hermes.

HERMES Tell me, my dear, what are your feelings with regard to them? Come, you relentless foe of all bucklers, speak; I am listening to you. (PEACE WHISPERS INTO HERMES' EAR.) Is that your grievance against them? Yes, yes, I understand. Hearken, you folk, this is her complaint. She says, that after the affair of Pylos(1) she came to you unbidden to bring you a basket full of truces and that you thrice repulsed her by your votes in the assembly.

TRYGAEUS Yes, we did wrong, but forgive us, for our mind was then entirely absorbed in leather.(1)

HERMES Listen again to what she has just asked me. Who was her greatest foe here? and furthermore, had she a friend who exerted himself to put an end to the fighting?

TRYGAEUS Her most devoted friend was Cleonymus; it is undisputed.

HERMES How then did Cleonymus behave in fights?

TRYGAEUS Oh! the bravest of warriors! Only he was not born of the father he claims; he showed it quick enough in the army by throwing away his weapons.(1)

HERMES There is yet another question she has just put to me. Who rules now in the rostrum?

TRYGAEUS 'Tis Hyperbolus, who now holds empire on the Pnyx. (TO PEACE) What now? you turn away your head!

HERMES She is vexed, that the people should give themselves a wretch of that kind for their chief.

TRYGAEUS Oh! we shall not employ him again; but the people, seeing themselves without a leader, took him haphazard, just as a man, who is naked, springs upon the first cloak he sees.

HERMES She asks, what will be the result of such a choice of the city?

TRYGAEUS We shall be more far-seeing in consequence.

HERMES And why?

TRYGAEUS Because he is a lamp-maker. Formerly we only directed our business by groping in the dark; now we shall only deliberate by lamplight.

HERMES Oh! oh! what questions she does order me to put to you!

TRYGAEUS What are they?

HERMES She wants to have news of a whole heap of old-fashioned things she left here. First of all, how is Sophocles?

TRYGAEUS Very well, but something very strange has happened to him.

HERMES What then?

TRYGAEUS He has turned from Sophocles into Simonides.(1)

HERMES Into Simonides? How so?

TRYGAEUS Because, though old and broken-down as he is, he would put to sea on a hurdle to gain an obolus.(1)

HERMES And wise Cratinus,(1) is he still alive?

TRYGAEUS He died about the time of the Laconian invasion.

HERMES How?

TRYGAEUS Of a swoon. He could not bear the shock of seeing one of his casks full of wine broken. Ah! what a number of other misfortunes our city has suffered! So, dearest mistress, nothing can now separate us from thee.

HERMES If that be so, receive Opora here for a wife; take her to the country, live with her, and grow fine grapes together.(1)

TRYGAEUS Come, my dear friend, come and accept my kisses. Tell me, Hermes, my master, do you think it would hurt me to love her a little, after so long an abstinence?

HERMES No, not if you swallow a potion of penny-royal afterwards.(1) But hasten to lead Theoria(2) to the Senate; 'twas there she lodged before.

TRYGAEUS Oh! fortunate Senate! Thanks to Theoria, what soups you will swallow for the space of three days!(1) how you will devour meats and cooked tripe! Come, farewell, friend Hermes!

HERMES And to you also, my dear sir, may you have much happiness, and don't forget me.

TRYGAEUS Come, beetle, home, home, and let us fly on a swift wing.

HERMES Oh! he is no longer here.

TRYGAEUS Where has he gone to then?

HERMES He is harnessed to the chariot of Zeus and bears the thunder bolts.

TRYGAEUS But where will the poor wretch get his food?

HERMES He will eat Ganymede's ambrosia.

TRYGAEUS Very well then, but how am I going to descend?

HERMES Oh! never fear, there is nothing simpler; place yourself beside the goddess.

TRYGAEUS Come, my pretty maidens, follow me quickly; there are plenty of folk awaiting you with ready weapons.

CHORUS Farewell and good luck be yours! Let us begin by handing over all this gear to the care of our servants, for no place is less safe than a theatre; there is always a crowd of thieves prowling around it, seeking to find some mischief to do. Come, keep a good watch over all this. As for ourselves, let us explain to the spectators what we have in our minds, the purpose of our play.

Undoubtedly the comic poet who mounted the stage to praise himself in the parabasis would deserve to be handed over to the sticks of the beadles. Nevertheless, oh Muse, if it be right to esteem the most honest and illustrious of our comic writers at his proper value, permit our poet to say that he thinks he has deserved a glorious renown. First of all, 'tis he who has compelled his rivals no longer to scoff at rags or to war with lice; and as for those Heracles, always chewing and ever hungry, those poltroons and cheats who allow themselves to be beaten at will, he was the first to cover them with ridicule and to chase them from the stage;(1) he has also dismissed that slave, whom one never failed to set a-weeping before you, so that his comrade might have the chance of jeering at his stripes and might ask, "Wretch, what has happened to your hide? Has the lash rained an army of its thongs on you and laid your back waste?" After having delivered us from all these wearisome ineptitudes and these low buffooneries, he has built up for us a great art, like a palace with high towers, constructed of fine phrases, great thoughts and of jokes not common on the streets. Moreover 'tis not obscure private persons or women that he stages in his comedies; but, bold as Heracles, 'tis the very greatest whom he attacks, undeterred by the fetid stink of leather or the threats of hearts of mud. He has the right to say, "I am the first ever dared to go straight for that beast with the sharp teeth and the terrible eyes that flashed lambent fire like those of Cynna,(2) surrounded by a hundred lewd flatterers, who spittle-licked him to his heart's content; it had a voice like a roaring torrent, the stench of a seal, a foul Lamia's testicles and the rump of a camel."(3)

I did not recoil in horror at the sight of such a monster, but fought him relentlessly to win your deliverance and that of the Islanders. Such are the services which should be graven in your recollection and entitle me to your thanks. Yet I have not been seen frequenting the wrestling school intoxicated with success and trying to tamper with young boys;(4) but I took all my theatrical gear(5) and returned straight home. I pained folk but little and caused them much amusement; my conscience rebuked me for nothing. Hence both grown men and youths should be on my side and I likewise invite the bald(6) to give me their votes; for, if I triumph, everyone will say, both at table and at festivals, "Carry this to the bald man, give these cakes to the bald one, do not grudge the poet whose talent shines as bright as his own bare skull the share he deserves."

Oh, Muse! drive the War far from our city and come to preside over our dances, if you love me; come and celebrate the nuptials of the gods, the banquets of us mortals and the festivals of the fortunate; these are the themes that inspire thy most poetic songs. And should Carcinus come to beg thee for admission with his sons to thy chorus, refuse all traffic with them; remember they are but gelded birds, stork-necked dancers, mannikins about as tall as a pat of goat dung, in fact machine-made poets.(7) Contrary to all expectation, the father has at last managed to finish a piece, but he owns himself that a cat strangled it one fine evening.(8)

Such are the songs(9) with which the Muse with the glorious hair inspires the able poet and which enchant the assembled populace, when the spring swallow twitters beneath the foliage;(10) but the god spare us from the chorus of Morsimus and that of Melanthius!(11) Oh! what a bitter discordancy grated upon my ears that day when the tragic chorus was directed by this same Melanthius and his brother, these two Gorgons,(12) these two harpies, the plague of the seas, whose gluttonous bellies devour the entire race of fishes, these followers of old women, these goats with their stinking arm-pits. Oh! Muse, spit upon them abundantly and keep the feast gaily with me.

TRYGAEUS Ah! 'tis a rough job getting to the gods! my legs are as good as broken through it. How small you were, to be sure, when seen from heaven! you had all the appearance too of being great rascals; but seen close, you look even worse.

SERVANT Is that you, master?

TRYGAEUS So I've been told.

SERVANT What has happened to you?

TRYGAEUS My legs pain me; it is such a plaguey long journey.

SERVANT Oh! tell me...

TRYGAEUS What?

SERVANT Did you see any other man besides yourself strolling about in heaven?

TRYGAEUS No, only the souls of two or three dithyrambic poets.

SERVANT What were they doing up there?

TRYGAEUS They were seeking to catch some lyric exordia as they flew by immersed in the billows of the air.

SERVANT Is it true, what they tell us, that men are turned into stars after death?

TRYGAEUS Quite true.

SERVANT Then who is that star I see over yonder?

TRYGAEUS That is Ion of Chios,(1) the author of an ode beginning "Morning"; as soon as ever he got to heaven, they called him "the Morning Star."

SERVANT And those stars like sparks, that plough up the air as they dart across the sky?(1)

TRYGAEUS They are the rich leaving the feast with a lantern and a light inside it.—But hurry up, show this young girl into my house, clean out the bath, heat some water and prepare the nuptial couch for herself and me. When 'tis done, come back here; meanwhile I am off to present this one to the Senate.

SERVANT But where then did you get these pretty chattels?

TRYGAEUS Where? why in heaven.

SERVANT I would not give more than an obolus for gods who have got to keeping brothels like us mere mortals.

TRYGAEUS They are not all so, but there are some up there too who live by this trade.

SERVANT Come, that's rich! But I bethink me, shall I give her something to eat?

TRYGAEUS No, for she would neither touch bread nor cake; she is used to licking ambrosia at the table of the gods.

SERVANT Well, we can give her something to lick down here too.

CHORUS Here is a truly happy old man, as far as I can judge.

TRYGAEUS Ah! but what shall I be, when you see me presently dressed for the wedding?

CHORUS Made young again by love and scented with perfumes, your lot will be one we all shall envy.

TRYGAEUS And when I lie beside her and caress her bosoms?

CHORUS Oh! then you will be happier than those spinning-tops who call Carcinus their father.(1)

TRYGAEUS And I well deserve it; have I not bestridden a beetle to save the Greeks, who now, thanks to me, can make love at their ease and sleep peacefully on their farms?

SERVANT The girl has quitted the bath; she is charming from head to foot, both belly and buttocks; the cake is baked and they are kneading the sesame-biscuit;(1) nothing is lacking but the bridegroom's virility.

TRYGAEUS Let us first hasten to lodge Theoria in the hands of the Senate.

SERVANT But tell me, who is this woman?

TRYGAEUS Why, 'tis Theoria, with whom we used formerly to go to Brauron,(1) to get tipsy and frolic. I had the greatest trouble to get hold of her.

SERVANT Ah! you charmer! what pleasure your pretty bottom will afford me every four years!

TRYGAEUS Let us see, who of you is steady enough to be trusted by the Senate with the care of this charming wench? Hi! you, friend! what are you drawing there?

SERVANT I am drawing the plan of the tent I wish to erect for myself on the isthmus.(1)

TRYGAEUS Come, who wishes to take the charge of her? No one? Come, Theoria, I am going to lead you into the midst of the spectators and confide you to their care.

SERVANT Ah! there is one who makes a sign to you.

TRYGAEUS Who is it?

SERVANT 'Tis Ariphrades. He wishes to take her home at once.

TRYGAEUS No, I'm sure he shan't. He would soon have her done for, absorbing all her life-force. Come, Theoria, put down all this gear.(1)

Senate, Prytanes, look upon Theoria and see what precious blessings I place in your hands. Hasten to raise its limbs and to immolate the victim. Admire the fine chimney,(2) it is quite black with smoke, for 'twas here that the Senate did their cooking before the war. Now that you have found Theoria again, you can start the most charming games from to-morrow, wrestling with her on the ground, either on your hands and feet, or you can lay her on her side, or stand before her with bent knees, or, well rubbed with oil, you can boldly enter the lists, as in the Pancratium, belabouring your foe with blows from your fist or otherwise. The next day you will celebrate equestrian games, in which the riders will ride side by side, or else the chariot teams, thrown one on top of another, panting and whinnying, will roll and knock against each other on the ground, while other rivals, thrown out of their seats, will fall before reaching the goal, utterly exhausted by their efforts.—Come, Prytanes, take Theoria. Oh! look how graciously yonder fellow has received her; you would not have been in such a hurry to introduce her to the Senate, if nothing were coming to you through it;(3) you would not have failed to plead some holiday as an excuse.

CHORUS Such a man as you assures the happiness of all his fellow-citizens.

TRYGAEUS When you are gathering your vintages you will prize me even better.

CHORUS E'en from to-day we hail you as the deliverer of mankind.

TRYGAEUS Wait until you have drunk a beaker of new wine, before you appraise my true merits.

CHORUS Excepting the gods, there is none greater than yourself, and that will ever be our opinion.

TRYGAEUS Yea, Trygaeus of Athmonia has deserved well of you, he has freed both husbandman and craftsman from the most cruel ills; he has vanquished Hyberbolus.

SERVANT Well then, what must be done now?

TRYGAEUS You must offer pots of green-stuff to the goddess to consecrate her altars.

SERVANT Pots of green-stuff(1) as we do to poor Hermes—and even he thinks the fare but mean?

TRYGAEUS What will you offer them? A fatted bull?

SERVANT Oh no! I don't want to start bellowing the battle-cry.(1)

TRYGAEUS A great fat swine then?

SERVANT No, no.

TRYGAEUS Why not?

SERVANT We don't want any of the swinishness of Theagenes.(1)

TRYGAEUS What other victim do you prefer then?

SERVANT A sheep.

TRYGAEUS A sheep?

SERVANT Yes.

TRYGAEUS But you must give the word the Ionic form.

SERVANT Purposely. So that if anyone in the assembly says, "We must go to war," all may start bleating in alarm, "Oi, oi."(1)

TRYGAEUS A brilliant idea.

SERVANT And we shall all be lambs one toward the other, yea, and milder still toward the allies.

TRYGAEUS Then go for the sheep and haste to bring it back with you; I will prepare the altar for the sacrifice.

CHORUS How everything succeeds to our wish, when the gods are willing and Fortune favours us! how opportunely everything falls out.

TRYGAEUS Nothing could be truer, for look! here stands the altar all ready at my door.

CHORUS Hurry, hurry, for the winds are fickle; make haste, while the divine will is set on stopping this cruel war and is showering on us the most striking benefits.

TRYGAEUS Here is the basket of barley-seed mingled with salt, the chaplet and the sacred knife; and there is the fire; so we are only waiting for the sheep.

CHORUS Hasten, hasten, for, if Chaeris sees you, he will come without bidding, he and his flute; and when you see him puffing and panting and out of breath, you will have to give him something.

TRYGAEUS Come, seize the basket and take the lustral water and hurry to circle round the altar to the right.

SERVANT There! 'tis done. What is your next bidding?

TRYGAEUS Hold! I take this fire-brand first and plunge it into the water.

SERVANT Be quick! be quick! Sprinkle the altar.

TRYGAEUS Give me some barley-seed, purify yourself and hand me the basin; then scatter the rest of the barley among the audience.

SERVANT 'Tis done.

TRYGAEUS You have thrown it?

SERVANT Yes, by Hermes! and all the spectators have had their share.

TRYGAEUS But not the women?

SERVANT Oh! their husbands will give it them this evening.(1)

TRYGAEUS Let us pray! Who is here? Are there any good men?(1)

SERVANT Come, give, so that I may sprinkle these. Faith! they are indeed good, brave men.

TRYGAEUS You believe so?

SERVANT I am sure, and the proof of it is that we have flooded them with lustral water and they have not budged an inch.(1)

TRYGAEUS Come, then, to prayers; to prayers, quick!—Oh! Peace, mighty queen, venerated goddess, thou, who presidest over choruses and at nuptials, deign to accept the sacrifices we offer thee.

SERVANT Receive it, greatly honoured mistress, and behave not like the coquettes, who half open the door to entice the gallants, draw back when they are stared at, to return once more if a man passes on. But do not act like this to us.

TRYGAEUS No, but like an honest woman, show thyself to thy worshippers, who are worn with regretting thee all these thirteen years. Hush the noise of battle, be a true Lysimacha to us.(1) Put an end to this tittle-tattle, to this idle babble, that set us defying one another. Cause the Greeks once more to taste the pleasant beverage of friendship and temper all hearts with the gentle feeling of forgiveness. Make excellent commodities flow to our markets, fine heads of garlic, early cucumbers, apples, pomegranates and nice little cloaks for the slaves; make them bring geese, ducks, pigeons and larks from Boeotia and baskets of eels from Lake Copais; we shall all rush to buy them, disputing their possession with Morychus, Teleas, Glaucetes and every other glutton. Melanthius(2) will arrive on the market last of all; 'twill be, "no more eels, all sold!" and then he'll start a-groaning and exclaiming as in his monologue of Medea,(3) "I am dying, I am dying! Alas! I have let those hidden in the beet escape me!"(4) And won't we laugh? These are the wishes, mighty goddess, which we pray thee to grant.

SERVANT Take the knife and slaughter the sheep like a finished cook.

TRYGAEUS No, the goddess does not wish it.(1)

SERVANT And why not?

TRYGAEUS Blood cannot please Peace, so let us spill none upon her altar. Therefore go and sacrifice the sheep in the house, cut off the legs and bring them here; thus the carcase will be saved for the choregus.

CHORUS You, who remain here, get chopped wood and everything needed for the sacrifice ready.

TRYGAEUS Don't I look like a diviner preparing his mystic fire?

CHORUS Undoubtedly. Will anything that it behooves a wise man to know escape you? Don't you know all that a man should know, who is distinguished for his wisdom and inventive daring?

TRYGAEUS There! the wood catches. Its smoke blinds poor Stilbides.(1) I am now going to bring the table and thus be my own slave.

CHORUS You have braved a thousand dangers to save your sacred town. All honour to you! your glory will be ever envied.

SERVANT Hold! Here are the legs, place them upon the altar. For myself, I mean to go back to the entrails and the cakes.

TRYGAEUS I'll see to those; I want you here.

SERVANT Well then, here I am. Do you think I have been long?

TRYGAEUS Just get this roasted. Ah! who is this man, crowned with laurel, who is coming to me?

SERVANT He has a self-important look; is he some diviner?

TRYGAEUS No, I' faith! 'tis Hierocles.

SERVANT Ah! that oracle-monger from Oreus.(1) What is he going to tell us?

TRYGAEUS Evidently he is coming to oppose the peace.

SERVANT No, 'tis the odour of the fat that attracts him.

TRYGAEUS Let us appear not to see him.

SERVANT Very well.

HIEROCLES What sacrifice is this? to what god are you offering it?

TRYGAEUS (TO THE SERVANT) Silence!—(ALOUD.) Look after the roasting and keep your hands off the meat.

HIEROCLES To whom are you sacrificing? Answer me. Ah! the tail(1) is showing favourable omens.

SERVANT Aye, very favourable, oh, loved and mighty Peace!

HIEROCLES Come, cut off the first offering(1) and make the oblation.

TRYGAEUS 'Tis not roasted enough.

HIEROCLES Yea, truly, 'tis done to a turn.

TRYGAEUS Mind your own business, friend! (TO THE SERVANT.) Cut away. Where is the table? Bring the libations.

HIEROCLES The tongue is cut separately.

TRYGAEUS We know all that. But just listen to one piece of advice.

HIEROCLES And that is?

TRYGAEUS Don't talk, for 'tis divine Peace to whom we are sacrificing.

HIEROCLES Oh! wretched mortals, oh, you idiots!

TRYGAEUS Keep such ugly terms for yourself.

HIEROCLES What! you are so ignorant you don't understand the will of the gods and you make a treaty, you, who are men, with apes, who are full of malice?(1)

TRYGAEUS Ha, ha, ha!

HIEROCLES What are you laughing at?

TRYGAEUS Ha, ha! your apes amuse me!

HIEROCLES You simple pigeons, you trust yourselves to foxes, who are all craft, both in mind and heart.

TRYGAEUS Oh, you trouble-maker! may your lungs get as hot as this meat!

HIEROCLES Nay, nay! if only the Nymphs had not fooled Bacis, and Bacis mortal men; and if the Nymphs had not tricked Bacis a second time...(1)

TRYGAEUS May the plague seize you, if you don't stop wearying us with your Bacis!

HIEROCLES ...it would not have been written in the book of Fate that the bends of Peace must be broken; but first...

TRYGAEUS The meat must be dusted with salt.

HIEROCLES ...it does not please the blessed gods that we should stop the War until the wolf uniteth with the sheep.

TRYGAEUS How, you cursed animal, could the wolf ever unite with the sheep?

HIEROCLES As long as the wood-bug gives off a fetid odour, when it flies; as long as the noisy bitch is forced by nature to litter blind pups, so long shall peace be forbidden.

TRYGAEUS Then what should be done? Not to stop War would be to leave it to the decision of chance which of the two people should suffer the most, whereas by uniting under a treaty, we share the empire of Greece.

HIEROCLES You will never make the crab walk straight.

TRYGAEUS You shall no longer be fed at the Prytaneum; the war done, oracles are not wanted.

HIEROCLES You will never smooth the rough spikes of the hedgehog.

TRYGAEUS Will you never stop fooling the Athenians?

HIEROCLES What oracle ordered you to burn these joints of mutton in honour of the gods?

TRYGAEUS This grand oracle of Homer's: "Thus vanished the dark war-clouds and we offered a sacrifice to new-born Peace. When the flame had consumed the thighs of the victim and its inwards had appeased our hunger, we poured out the libations of wine." 'Twas I who arranged the sacred rites, but none offered the shining cup to the diviner.(1)

HIEROCLES I care little for that. 'Tis not the Sibyl who spoke it.(1)

TRYGAEUS Wise Homer has also said: "He who delights in the horrors of civil war has neither country nor laws nor home." What noble words!

HIEROCLES Beware lest the kite turn your brain and rob...

TRYGAEUS Look out, slave! This oracle threatens our meat. Quick, pour the libation, and give me some of the inwards.

HIEROCLES I too will help myself to a bit, if you like.

TRYGAEUS The libation! the libation!

HIEROCLES Pour out also for me and give me some of this meat.

TRYGAEUS No, the blessed gods won't allow it yet; let us drink; and as for you, get you gone, for 'tis their will. Mighty Peace! stay ever in our midst.

HIEROCLES Bring the tongue hither.

TRYGAEUS Relieve us of your own.

HIEROCLES The libation.

TRYGAEUS Here! and this into the bargain (STRIKES HIM).

HIEROCLES You will not give me any meat?

TRYGAEUS We cannot give you any until the wolf unites with the sheep.

HIEROCLES I will embrace your knees.

TRYGAEUS 'Tis lost labour, good fellow; you will never smooth the rough spikes of the hedgehog.... Come, spectators, join us in our feast.

HIEROCLES And what am I to do?

TRYGAEUS You? go and eat the Sibyl.

HIEROCLES No, by the Earth! no, you shall not eat without me; if you do not give, I take; 'tis common property.

TRYGAEUS (TO THE SERVANT) Strike, strike this Bacis, this humbugging soothsayer.

HIEROCLES I take to witness...

TRYGAEUS And I also, that you are a glutton and an impostor. Hold him tight and beat the impostor with a stick.

SERVANT You look to that; I will snatch the skin from him which he has stolen from us.(1) Are you going to let go that skin, you priest from hell! do you hear! Oh! what a fine crow has come from Oreus! Stretch your wings quickly for Elymnium.(2)

CHORUS Oh! joy, joy! no more helmet, no more cheese nor onions!(1) No, I have no passion for battles; what I love, is to drink with good comrades in the corner by the fire when good dry wood, cut in the height of the summer, is crackling; it is to cook pease on the coals and beechnuts among the embers, 'tis to kiss our pretty Thracian(2) while my wife is at the bath. Nothing is more pleasing, when the rain is sprouting our sowings, than to chat with some friend, saying, "Tell me, Comarchides, what shall we do? I would willingly drink myself, while the heavens are watering our fields. Come, wife, cook three measures of beans, adding to them a little wheat, and give us some figs. Syra! call Manes off the fields, 'tis impossible to prune the vine or to align the ridges, for the ground is too wet to-day. Let someone bring me the thrush and those two chaffinches; there were also some curds and four pieces of hare, unless the cat stole them last evening, for I know not what the infernal noise was that I heard in the house. Serve up three of the pieces for me, slave, and give the fourth to my father. Go and ask Aeschinades for some myrtle branches with berries on them, and then, for 'tis the same road, you will invite Charinades to come and drink with me to the honour of the gods who watch over our crops." When the grasshopper sings his dulcet tune, I love to see the Lemnian vines beginning to ripen, for 'tis the earliest plant of all. I love likewise to watch the fig filling out, and when it has reached maturity I eat with appreciation and exclaim, "Oh! delightful season!" Then too I bruise some thyme and infuse it in water. Indeed I grow a great deal fatter passing the summer in this way than in watching a cursed captain with his three plumes and his military cloak of a startling crimson (he calls it true Sardian purple), which he takes care to dye himself with Cyzicus saffron in a battle; then he is the first to run away, shaking his plumes like a great yellow prancing cock,(3) while I am left to watch the nets.(4) Once back again in Athens, these brave fellows behave abominably; they write down these, they scratch through others, and this backwards and forwards two or three times at random. The departure is set for to-morrow, and some citizen has brought no provisions, because he didn't know he had to go; he stops in front of the statue of Pandion,(5) reads his name, is dumbfounded and starts away at a run, weeping bitter tears. The townsfolk are less ill-used, but that is how the husbandmen are treated by these men of war, the hated of the gods and of men, who know nothing but how to throw away their shield. For this reason, if it please heaven, I propose to call these rascals to account, for they are lions in times of peace, but sneaking foxes when it comes to fighting.

TRYGAEUS Oh! oh! what a crowd for the nuptial feast! Here! dust the tables with this crest, which is good for nothing else now. Halloa! produce the cakes, the thrushes, plenty of good jugged hare and the little loaves.

A SICKLE-MAKER Trygaeus, where is Trygaeus?

TRYGAEUS I am cooking the thrushes.

SICKLE-MAKER Trygaeus, my best of friends, what a fine stroke of business you have done for me by bringing back Peace! Formerly my sickles would not have sold at an obolus apiece; to-day I am being paid fifty drachmae for every one. And here is a neighbour who is selling his casks for the country at three drachmae each. So come, Trygaeus, take as many sickles and casks as you will for nothing. Accept them for nothing; 'tis because of our handsome profits on our sales that we offer you these wedding presents.

TRYGAEUS Thanks. Put them all down inside there, and come along quick to the banquet. Ah! do you see that armourer yonder coming with a wry face?

A CREST-MAKER Alas! alas! Trygaeus, you have ruined me utterly.

TRYGAEUS What! won't the crests go any more, friend?

CREST-MAKER You have killed my business, my livelihood, and that of this poor lance-maker too.

TRYGAEUS Come, come, what are you asking for these two crests?

CREST-MAKER What do you bid for them?

TRYGAEUS What do I bid? Oh! I am ashamed to say. Still, as the clasp is of good workmanship, I would give two, even three measures of dried figs; I could use 'em for dusting the table.

CREST-MAKER All right, tell them to bring me the dried figs; 'tis always better than nothing.

TRYGAEUS Take them away, be off with your crests and get you gone; they are moulting, they are losing all their hair; I would not give a single fig for them.

A BREASTPLATE-MAKER Good gods, what am I going to do with this fine ten-minae breastplate, which is so splendidly made?

TRYGAEUS Oh, you will lose nothing over it.

BREASTPLATE-MAKER I will sell it to you at cost price.

TRYGAEUS 'Twould be very useful as a night-stool...

BREASTPLATE-MAKER Cease your insults, both to me and my wares.

TRYGAEUS ...if propped on three stones. Look, 'tis admirable.

BREASTPLATE-MAKER But how can you wipe, idiot?

TRYGAEUS I can pass one hand through here, and the other there, and so...

BREASTPLATE-MAKER What! do you wipe with both hands?

TRYGAEUS Aye, so that I may not be accused of robbing the State, by blocking up an oar-hole in the galley.(1)

BREASTPLATE-MAKER So you would pay ten minae(1) for a night-stool?

TRYGAEUS Undoubtedly, you rascal. Do you think I would sell my rump for a thousand drachmae?(1)

BREASTPLATE-MAKER Come, have the money paid over to me.

TRYGAEUS No, friend; I find it hurts me to sit on. Take it away, I won't buy it.

A TRUMPET-MAKER What is to be done with this trumpet, for which I gave sixty drachmae the other day?

TRYGAEUS Pour lead into the hollow and fit a good, long stick to the top; and you will have a balanced cottabos.(1)

TRUMPET-MAKER Ha! would you mock me?

TRYGAEUS Well, here's another notion. Pour in lead as I said, add here a dish hung on strings, and you will have a balance for weighing the figs which you give your slaves in the fields.

A HELMET-MAKER Cursed fate! I am ruined. Here are helmets, for which I gave a mina each. What I to do with them? who will buy them?

TRYGAEUS Go and sell them to the Egyptians; they will do for measuring loosening medicines.(1)

A SPEAR-MAKER Ah! poor helmet-maker, things are indeed in a bad way.

TRYGAEUS That man has no cause for complaint.

SPEAR-MAKER But helmets will be no more used.

TRYGAEUS Let him learn to fit a handle to them and he can sell them for more money.(1)

SPEAR-MAKER Let us be off, comrade.

TRYGAEUS No, I want to buy these spears.

SPEAR-MAKER What will you give?

TRYGAEUS If they could be split in two, I would take them at a drachma per hundred to use as vine-props.

SPEAR-MAKER The insolent dog! Let us go, friend.

TRYGAEUS Ah! here come the guests, children from the table to relieve themselves; I fancy they also want to hum over what they will be singing presently. Hi! child! what do you reckon to sing? Stand there and give me the opening line.

THE SON OF LAMACHUS "Glory to the young warriors..."

TRYGAEUS Oh! leave off about your young warriors, you little wretch; we are at peace and you are an idiot and a rascal.

SON OF LAMACHUS "The skirmish begins, the hollow bucklers clash against each other."(1)

TRYGAEUS Bucklers! Leave me in peace with your bucklers.

SON OF LAMACHUS "And then there came groanings and shouts of victory."

TRYGAEUS Groanings! ah! by Bacchus! look out for yourself, you cursed squaller, if you start wearying us again with your groanings and hollow bucklers.

SON OF LAMACHUS Then what should I sing? Tell me what pleases you.

TRYGAEUS "'Tis thus they feasted on the flesh of oxen," or something similar, as, for instance, "Everything that could tickle the palate was placed on the table."

SON OF LAMACHUS "'Tis thus they feasted on the flesh of oxen and, tired of warfare, unharnessed their foaming steeds."

TRYGAEUS That's splendid; tired of warfare, they seat themselves at table; sing, sing to us how they still go on eating after they are satiated.

SON OF LAMACHUS "The meal over, they girded themselves..."

TRYGAEUS With good wine, no doubt?

SON OF LAMACHUS "...with armour and rushed forth from the towers, and a terrible shout arose."

TRYGAEUS Get you gone, you little scapegrace, you and your battles! You sing of nothing but warfare. Who is your father then?

SON OF LAMACHUS My father?

TRYGAEUS Why yes, your father.

SON OF LAMACHUS I am Lamachus' son.

TRYGAEUS Oh! oh! I could indeed have sworn, when I was listening to you, that you were the son of some warrior who dreams of nothing but wounds and bruises, of some Boulomachus or Clausimachus;(1) go and sing your plaguey songs to the spearmen.... Where is the son of Cleonymus? Sing me something before going back to the feast. I am at least certain he will not sing of battles, for his father is far too careful a man.

SON OF CLEONYMUS "An inhabitant of Sais is parading with the spotless shield which I regret to say I have thrown into a thicket."(1)

TRYGAEUS Tell me, you little good-for-nothing, are you singing that for your father?

SON OF CLEONYMUS "But I saved my life."

TRYGAEUS And dishonoured your family. But let us go in; I am very certain, that being the son of such a father, you will never forget this song of the buckler. You, who remain to the feast, 'tis your duty to devour dish after dish and not to ply empty jaws. Come, put heart into the work and eat with your mouths full. For, believe me, poor friends, white teeth are useless furniture, if they chew nothing.

CHORUS Never fear; thanks all the same for your good advice.

TRYGAEUS You, who yesterday were dying of hunger, come, stuff yourselves with this fine hare-stew; 'tis not every day that we find cakes lying neglected. Eat, eat, or I predict you will soon regret it.

CHORUS Silence! Keep silence! Here is the bride about to appear! Take nuptial torches and let all rejoice and join in our songs. Then, when we have danced, clinked our cups and thrown Hyperbolus through the doorway we will carry back all our farming tools to the fields and shall pray the gods to give wealth to the Greeks and to cause us all to gather in an abundant barley harvest, enjoy a noble vintage, to grant that we may choke with good figs, that our wives may prove fruitful, that in fact we may recover all our lost blessings, and that the sparkling fire may be restored to the hearth.

TRYGAEUS Come, wife, to the fields and seek, my beauty, to brighten and enliven my nights. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

CHORUS Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus! oh! thrice happy man, who so well deserve your good fortune!

TRYGAEUS Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

CHORUS Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

FIRST SEMI-CHORUS What shall we do to her?

SECOND SEMI-CHORUS What shall we do to her?

FIRST SEMI-CHORUS We will gather her kisses.

SECOND SEMI-CHORUS We will gather her kisses.

CHORUS Come, comrades, we who are in the first row, let us pick up the bridegroom and carry him in triumph. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus! Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

TRYGAEUS Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

CHORUS You shall have a fine house, no cares and the finest of figs. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

TRYGAEUS Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

CHORUS The bridegroom's fig is great and thick; the bride's very soft and tender.

TRYGAEUS While eating and drinking deep draughts of wine, continue to repeat: Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

CHORUS Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!

TRYGAEUS Farewell, farewell, my friends. All who come with me shall have cakes galore.