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    The Plays of Aristophanes
    The Plays of Aristophanes
    The Plays of Aristophanes
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    The Plays of Aristophanes

    By Aristophanes

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    Many of the earliest books, particularly those dating back to the 1900s and before, are now extremely scarce and increasingly expensive. We are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions, using the original text and artwork.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRead Books Ltd.
    Release dateMar 23, 2011
    ISBN9781446545287
    The Plays of Aristophanes
    Author

    Aristophanes

    Aristophanes, son of Philippus, of the deme Kydathenaion, was a comic playwright of ancient Athens and a poet of Old Attic Comedy. Eleven of his forty plays survive virtually complete.

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      The Plays of Aristophanes - Aristophanes

      THE ACHARNIANS

      THE ACHARNIANS

      DICÆOPOLIS, whose name may be interpreted as conveying the idea of honest policy, is the principal character in the play. He is represented as a humorous, shrewd countryman (a sort of Athenian Sancho), who (in consequence of the war, and the invasion of Attica by the Peloponnesian Army) had been driven from his house and property to take shelter in the city. Here his whole thoughts are occupied with regret for the comforts he has lost, and with wishes for a speedy peace. The soliloquy in which he appears in the first scene represents him seated alone in the place of Assembly, having risen early to secure a good place, his constant practice (he says), in order to bawl, to abuse and interrupt the speakers, with the exception of those, and those only, who are arguing in favour of an immediate peace. But the Magistrates and men of business, not having so much leisure on their hands as the worthy countryman, are less punctual in their attendance, and he is kept waiting, to his great discomfort; their seats are empty, and the citizens in the market-place are talking and idling, or shifting about to avoid a most notable instrument of democratic coercion—namely, a cord coloured with ochre, which the officers stretch across the marketplace in order to drive the loiterers to the place of Assembly; those that are overtaken by the rope, being marked by the ochre, besides the damage to their dress, becoming liable to a nominal fine. To avoid the sense of weariness, he is in the habit (as he tells us), upon such occasions, of giving a forced direction to his thoughts; and he gives a sample of his mode of employing this expedient in the very first lines: he is tasking himself to recollect and sum up all the things that had occurred of late either to gratify or to annoy him. At length, however, he is relieved from the pursuit of this unsatisfactory pastime. The Magistrates arrive and take their seats—the place of Assembly is filled, and silence is proclaimed—when a new personage enters hastily. Here we have an instance of the peculiar character of invention which belongs to the ancient comedy; in which a bodily form and action is given to those images which have no existence except in the forms of animated or fanciful language. If a deity were to come down among the Athenians and propose to conclude a peace for them, they would not listen to him. This phrase is here exhibited in action; for the personage above mentioned is a demigod (descended immediately from Ceres herself, as he proves by a very rapid and confident recitation of his genealogy), but his offer of his services as a mediator are very ill received, and he very narrowly escapes being taken into custody.

      The next persons who present themselves to the Assembly are two Envoys returned from a mission to the Court of Persia, which they have contrived to prolong for several years. They relate all the hardships which they had undergone in luxurious entertainments and in tedious journeys with a splendid equipage: they moreover had been detained by an unforeseen circumstance on their arrival at the capital. The state of things was such as Autolycus describes: The King is not at the Palace, he is gone to purge melancholy and air himself: but the King of Persia was not gone, like the King of Bohemia, on board a new ship; he was gone with a magnificent military retinue to the Golden Mountains, where, according to the Ambassadors’ report, he continued for eight months in an unremitting course of cathartics. On his return to the Capital, they had the honour of being presented, and entertained at a most singular and marvellous banquet; finally, they had succeeded in their mission, and had brought with them a confidential servant of the Crown of Persia (a nobleman of high rank, though rather of a suspicious name), Shamartabas, commissioned to declare His Majesty’s intention to the people of Athens. Shamartabas holds the distinguished office and title of the King’s Eye: of course the mask which is assigned him is distinguished by an Eye of enormous size, the appearance of which and the gravity of gesture suited to such an exalted personage excite the rustic republican spleen of honest Dicæopolis. The communications of the great Persian Courtier, being in his own language and consequently unintelligible, are variously interpreted. Dicæopolis takes upon himself to question him peremptorily, and in the course of the examination discovers a couple of effeminate Athenian fops, disguised as Eunuchs, in his train; this discovery, however, creates no sensation. The King’s Eye is invited with the usual honours to a Banquet in the Prytaneum; but when Dicæopolis sees these impostors and enemies of his country upon the point of being rewarded with a good dinner, the indignation which is excited in his independent spirit decides at once his future destinies and the conduct of all the scenes which follow. In that tone which a person is apt to employ when he fancies that the zeal of his friends gives him a right to command their services, he calls out very peremptorily for Amphitheus, and without any preamble or prefatory request, directs him to proceed to Sparta without loss of time, and to conclude a separate peace for him (Dicæopolis), his wife and family, advancing to him at the same time the principal sum of eight drachmas for that purpose.

      Another Envoy now appears, returned from a Court of a different description. He has not, like the former, any complaints to make of having been overwhelmed with an excess of ostentation and profusion from the Grand Monarque of those times; he has resided with a sort of contemporary Czar Peter, the Autocrat of Thrace, having lived (of course according to his own account) in a most jolly barbarous intimacy with that rising potentate, and inspiring him with the sincerest hearty zeal in favour of the polished state of Athens. His son, the heir apparent, had been admitted by the Athenians to the freedom of their City, an honour which, in their opinion (as well as in that of Mr. Peter Putty in Foote’s farce), any prince ought to be proud of; and the Assembly are accordingly informed of the delight and enthusiasm with which the compliment had been accepted. They are presented moreover with a specimen of the auxiliary troops, somewhat singularly equipped, which their new ally is willing to employ in their service, but at a rate of pay which Dicæopolis exclaims against as scandalous. He has soon other causes of complaint; for attracted by the passion for garlic, which it seems is predominant amongst them, the Odomantians (for that is the name of the tribe to which the new warriors belong) begin their operations by plundering the store which Dicæopolis had provided for his own luncheon; outrageous at this injury, after reproaching the Magistrates with their apathy in suffering it, he takes, what it seems was an effectual mode of dissolving the Assembly, by declaring that a storm is coming on, and affirming that he has felt a drop of rain. This sort of Polish Veto nullifies the proceedings of the Assembly which is accordingly dissolved. Dicæopolis is left lamenting over the pillage of his provisions, but his spirits are soon revived by the appearance of Amphitheus, who has returned with samples of Treaties of Peace or Truces. These Treaties or Truces are typified by the wines employed in the libations by which they were ratified; a conceit, which in the language of the original appears less extravagant, the Greeks having only one and the same word by which they expressed the idea of a truce and that of the libation by which it was rendered valid. Amphitheus is in a hurry, having been (as he says) discovered and pursued by a number of old Rustics of Acharnæ, who, since the ruin of the vineyards of their village by the invading army, had become furious against a peace. Dicæopolis tastes and discusses the qualities of the wines, and having fixed upon a sample of thirty years’ growth, goes away with a determination to avail himself of the change in his affairs, by keeping the Feast of Bacchus once more in his own village; while Amphitheus runs off to avoid the Acharnians whom he had outrun, but who are still in quest of him.

      SCENE—THE PNYX

      Dicæopolis. How many things there are to cross and vex me,

      My comforts I compute at four precisely,

      My griefs and miseries at a hundred thousand.

      Let’s see what there has happened to rejoice me

      With any real kind of joyfulness;

      Come, in the first place I set down five talents,

      Which Cleon vomited up again and refunded;

      There I rejoiced; I loved the Knights for that;

      ’Twas nobly done, for the interests of all Greece.

      But again I suffered cruelly in the Theatre

      10

      A tragical disappointment. There was I

      Gaping to hear old Æschylus, when the Herald

      Called out, "Theognis,¹ bring your chorus forward."

      Imagine what my feelings must have been!

      But then Dexitheus pleased me coming forward

      And singing his Bœotian melody:

      But next came Chæris with his music truly,

      That turned me sick, and killed me very nearly.

      But never in my lifetime, man nor boy,

      Was I so vexed as at this present moment;

      20

      To see the Pnyx, at this time of the morning,

      Quite empty, when the Assembly should be full.

      There are our Citizens in the market-place,

      Lounging and talking, shifting up and down

      To escape the painted twine that ought to sweep

      The shoal of them this way; not even the presidents

      Arrived—they’re always last, crowding and jostling

      To get the foremost seat; but as for peace

      They never think about it—Oh, poor Country!

      As for myself, I’m always the first man.

      30

      Alone in the morning, here I take my place,

      Here I contemplate, here I stretch my legs;

      I think and think—I don’t know what to think.

      I draw conclusions and comparisons,

      I ponder, I reflect, I pick my nose,

      I make a stink—I make a metaphor,

      I fidget about, and yawn and scratch myself;

      Looking in vain to the prospect of the fields,

      Loathing the city, longing for a peace,

      To return to my poor village and my farm,

      40

      That never used to cry, Come buy my charcoal!

      Nor, Buy my oil! nor Buy my anything!

      But gave me what I wanted, freely and fairly,

      Clear of all cost, with never a word of buying,

      Or such buy-words. So here I’m come, resolved

      To bawl, to abuse, to interrupt the speakers,

      Whenever I hear a word of any kind

      Except for an immediate peace. Ah there!

      The presidents at last; see, there they come!

      All scrambling for their seats—I told you so!

      50

      Herald. Move forward there! Move forward all of ye

      Further! within the consecrated ground.

      Amphitheus. Has anybody spoke?

      Prepared to speak?

      Amp. Amphitheus the Demigod.

      Amp. No, I’m immortal; for the first Amphitheus

      Was born of Ceres and Triptolemus,

      His only son was Keleüs, Keleüs married

      Phænarete my grandmother, Lykinus

      My father was their son; that’s proof enough

      60

      Of the immortality in our family.

      The Gods moreover have dispatched me here

      Commissioned specially to arrange a peace

      Betwixt this City and Sparta—notwithstanding

      I find myself rather in want at present

      Of a little ready money for my journey.

      The Magistrates won’t assist me.

      Amp. O Keleüs and Triptolemus, don’t forsake me!

      Dic. You presidents, I say! you exceed your powers!

      You insult the Assembly, dragging off a man

      70

      That offered to make terms and give us peace.

      Her. Keep silence there.

      Except I hear a motion about peace.

      Her. Ho there! the Ambassadors from the King of Persia.

      Dic. What King of Persia? what Ambassadors?

      I’m sick of foreigners and foreign animals,

      Peacocks¹ and Coxcombs and Ambassadors.

      Her. Keep silence there.

      In the name of Ecbatana!² What does it mean?

      Amb. You sent us when Euthymenes was Archon,

      80

      Some few years back, Ambassadors to Persia,

      With an appointment of two Drachmas each

      For daily maintenance.

      Amb. ’Twas no such easy service, I can tell you,

      No trifling inconvenience to be dragged

      Along those dusty, dull Caystrian plains,

      Smothered with cushions in the travelling chariots,

      Obliged to lodge at night in our pavilions,

      Jaded and hacked to death.

      Was an easy one, you think! on guard all night,

      90

      In the open air, at the outposts, on a mat.

      Amb. . . . At our reception we were forced to drink

      Strong luscious wine in cups of gold and crystal . . .

      Dic. O rock of Athens! sure thy very stones

      Should mutiny at such open mockery!

      Amb. (in continuation).

      . . . . with the Barbarians ’tis the test of manhood.

      There the great drinkers are the greatest men . . . .

      Dic. As debauchees and coxcombs are with us.

      Amb. (in continuation).

      . . . In the fourth year we reached the royal residence,

      But found the Sovereign absent on a progress,

      100

      Gone with his army to the Golden Mountains,

      To take his ease, and purge his royal person;

      There he remained eight months.

      His course of medicine?

      Amb. With the full of the moon

      He rose, and left his seat, returning homeward:

      There he admitted us to an audience,

      And entertained us at a royal banquet

      With a service of whole oxen baked in crust.

      Dic. Oxen in crust! what lies, what trumpery!

      110

      Did ever any mortal hear the like?

      Amb. Besides they treated us with a curious bird,

      Much bigger than our own Cleonymus.

      ’Tis called the Chousibus.

      We’re choused of our two drachmas.

      We’ve brought you here a nobleman, Shamartabas

      By name, by rank and office the King’s Eye.

      Dic. God send a crow to peck it out, I say,

      And yours the Ambassador’s into the bargain!

      Her. Let the King’s Eye come forward.

      120

      What’s here? an eye for the head of a ship!¹ what point.

      What headland is he weathering? what’s your course?

      What makes you steer so steadily and so slowly?

      Amb. Come now, Shamartabas, stand forth; declare

      The King’s intentions to the Athenian people.

      [Shamartabas here utters some words, which Orientalists have supposed to be the common formula prefixed to the edicts of the Persian Monarch—Iartaman exarksan apissonai satra.

      Amb. You understand it?

      Amb. (to Dicæopolis). He says the King intends to send us gold.

      (to Shamartabas). Explain about the gold; speak more distinctly.

      Shamartabas. Sen gooly Jaönau aphooly chest.

      Dic. Well, that’s distinct enough!

      130

      Dic. That it’s a foolish jest for the Ionians

      To imagine that the King would send them gold.

      Amb. No, no! He’s telling ye of chests full of gold.

      Dic. What chests? you’re an impostor. Stand away;

      Keep off; and let me alone to question him.

      [To Shamartabas.

      You Sir, you Persian! answer me distinctly

      And plainly, in presence of this fist of mine;

      On pain of a royal purple bloody nose.

      Will the King send us gold, or will he not?

      [Shamartabas shakes his head.

      Have our Ambassadors bamboozled us?

      [Shamartabas nods.

      These fellows nod to us in the Grecian fashion;

      141

      They’re some of our own people, I’ll be bound.

      One of those eunuchs there I’m sure I know:

      I’m positive it’s Cleisthenes the Siburtian.

      How durst you, you baboon, with such a beard,

      And your designing wicked rump close shaved,

      To pass yourself upon us for a eunuch?

      And who’s this other? Sure enough it’s Strato!

      Her. Silence there! Keep your seats!

      The Senate have invited the King’s Eye

      150

      To feast with them in the Prytaneum.

      An’t it enough to drive one mad? to drive one

      To hang himself? to be kept here in attendance,

      Working myself into a strangury;

      Whilst every door flies open to these fellows.

      But I’ll do something desperate and decided.

      Where is Amphitheus got to?

      Dic. There—take you these eight drachmas on my part,

      And make a separate peace for me with Sparta,

      For me, my wife and children and maidservant.

      160

      And you—go on with your embassies and fooleries.

      Her. Theorus, our ambassador into Thrace,

      Returned from King Sitalces!¹

      Dic. More coxcombs called for! Here’s another coming.

      Theor. We should not have remained so long in Thrace . . .

      Dic. If you hadn’t been overpaid I know you wouldn’t.

      Theor. But for the snow, which covered all the country,

      And buried up the roads, and froze the rivers.

      ’Twas singular this change of weather happened

      Just when Theognis here, our frosty poet,

      170

      Brought out his tragedy. We passed our time

      In drinking with Sitalces. He’s your friend,

      Your friend and lover, if there ever was one,

      And writes the name of Athens on his walls.²

      His son, your new-made fellow-citizen,

      Had wished to have been enrolled in proper form

      At the Apaturian festival; and meanwhile,

      During his absence, earnestly desires

      That the Apaturian sausages may be sent to him.

      He is urgent with his father to befriend

      180

      His newly adopted countrymen; and in fine

      Sitalces has been so far worked upon,

      He has sworn at last his solemn Thracian oath,

      Standing before the sacrifice, to send

      Such an army, he said, that all the Athenian people

      Shall think that there’s a flight of locusts coming.

      Dic. Then hang me if I believe a word about it,

      Except their being locusts; that seems likely.

      Theor. And now he has sent some warriors from a tribe

      The fiercest in all Thrace.

      190

      Her. The Thracians that came hither with Theorus!

      Let them come forward!

      Theor. The Odomantian army.

      Thracians? and what has brought them here from Thrace

      So strangely equipt, disguised, and circumcised?

      Theor. These are a race of fellows, if you’d hire ’em,

      Only at a couple of drachmas daily pay;

      With their light javelins, and their little bucklers,

      They’d worry and skirmish over all Bœotia.

      Dic. Two drachmas for those scarecrows! and our seamen,

      200

      What would they say to it?—left in arrears,

      Poor fellows, that are our support and safeguard.

      Out, out upon it! I’m a plundered man.

      I’m robbed and ruined here with the Odomantians.

      They’re seizing upon my garlic.

      Let the man’s garlic alone. You shabby fellow,

      You countryman, take care what you’re about;

      Don’t venture near them when they’re primed with garlic.

      Dic. You Magistrates, have you the face to see it,

      With your own eyes—your fellow-citizen

      210

      Here, in the city itself, robbed by barbarians?

      But I forbid the assembly. There’s a change

      In the heaven! I felt a drop of rain! I’m witness!

      Her. The Thracians must withdraw, to attend again

      The first of the next month. The assembly is closed.

      Dic. Lord help me, what a luncheon have I lost!

      But there’s Amphitheus coming back from Sparta.

      Welcome Amphitheus!

      There are the Acharnians pursuing me!

      Dic. How so?

      220

      But a parcel of old Acharnians smelt me out,

      Case-hardened, old, inveterate, hard-handed

      Veterans of Marathon, hearts of oak and iron,

      Slingers and smiters. They bawled out and bellowed:

      "You dog, you villain! now the vines are ruined,

      You’re come with treaties, are you?" Then they stopped,

      Huddling up handfuls of great slinging stones

      In the lappets of their cloaks, and I ran off,

      And they came driving after me pell-mell,

      Roaring and shouting.

      230

      You’ve brought the treaties?

      This here is a five years’ growth, taste it and try.

      Dic. Don’t like it!

      There’s an uncommon ugly twang of pitch,

      A touch of naval armament about it.

      Amph. Well, here’s a ten years’ growth, may suit you better.

      Dic. No, neither of them. There’s a sort of sourness

      Here is this last, a taste of acid embassies,

      And vapid allies turning to vinegar.

      Amph. But here’s a truce of thirty years entire,

      240

      Warranted sound.

      This is your sort! here’s nectar and ambrosia!

      Here’s nothing about providing three days’ rations;

      It says, Do what you please, go where you will.

      I chuse it, and adopt it, and embrace it,

      For sacrifice and for my private drinking.

      In spite of all the Acharnians, I’m determined

      To remove out of the reach of wars and mischief,

      And keep the feast of Bacchus in my farm.

      Amph. And I’ll run off to escape from those Acharnians.

      250

      Masses of men, when in a state of excitement, whatever may be their collective character or purpose, are apt to separate into two divisions; those of a milder and more reasonable temper taking the one side, and the more ardent and intractable taking the other. This is exemplified in the two Semichoruses. The first are upon the point of abandoning their pursuit, while the second persevere in it with unabated eagerness, indefatigable and (as they afterwards shew themselves) implacable. The first, on the contrary, are by degrees pacified and induced to listen to reason.

      This difference of feeling finally produces a struggle between them, in which those who are of milder mood obtain the advantage; and their opponents are obliged to call for assistance from Lamachus, a romantic, enthusiastic military character, and, of course, as decided an advocate for war as Dicæopolis (the poet’s dramatic representative) is for peace. Lamachus appears in his gorgeous armour. Dicæopolis, under the affectation of extreme terror and simplicity, contrives to banter and provoke him. Lamachus proceeds to violence, and is foiled; after which a dispute is carried on for some time between them upon equal terms; and they finally separate, with a declaration of their respective determinations; the one looking forward to military achievement, and the other to commercial profit and enjoyment.

      It may be necessary to say something of an attempt that has been made in the translation of the following Chorus to convey to the English reader some notion of the metrical character of the original. The Poet himself has described the metre as bold and manly, expressive of firmness and vehemence, and, as such, suitable to the persons of whom his Chorus is composed. The Cretic metre (for that is its name) consists of a quaver between two crotchets , and may be considered as a truncated form of the Trochaic, differing from it only by the subtraction of a short or quaver-syllable; the Trochaic itself consisting of four syllables, a crotchet and quaver alternately . In consequence of this affinity, we find that the two metres frequently pass into each other.

      In the instance before us, the Chorus begins with the Trochaic, but after the first four lines passes into the Cretic; the second Cretic line exhibits a variety of frequent occurrence in the Greek, the last crotchet being resolved into two quavers . Moreover, the altercation between Dicæopolis and the Chorus is kept up for some time in Trochaics and Cretics alternately.

      Chorus. Follow faster; all together! search, inquire of every one.

      Speak, inform us, have you seen him? whither is the rascal run?

      ’Tis a point of public service that the traitor should be caught

      In the fact, seized and arrested with the Treaties that he brought.

      1st Semichorus. He’s escaped, he’s escaped—

      Out upon it! Out upon it!—

      Out of sight, out of search.

      O the sad wearisome

      Load of years!

      Well do I remember such a burden as I bore

      260

      Running with Phayllus¹ with a hamper at my back,

      Out alack,

      Years ago.

      But, alas, my sixty winters and my sad rheumatic pain

      Break my speed and spoil my running,—and that old unlucky sprain.

      He’s escaped—

      2nd Semichorus. But we’ll pursue him. Whether we be fast or slow,

      He shall learn to dread the peril of an old Acharnian foe.

      O Supreme Powers above,

      Merciful Father Jove,

      270

      Oh, the vile miscreant wretch;

      How did he dare,

      How did he presume in his unutterable villany to make a peace,

      Peace with the detestable, abominable Spartan race.

      No, the war must not end—

      Never end—till the whole Spartan tribe

      Are reduced, trampled down,

      Tied and bound, hand and foot.

      Chorus. Now we must renew the search, pursuing at a steady pace,

      Soon or late we shall secure him, hunted down from place to place.

      280

      Look about like eager marksmen, ready with your slings and stones.

      How I long to fall upon him, the villain, and to smash his bones!

      Enter DICÆOPOLIS, his WIFE and DAUGHTER, a SLAVE, etc.

      Dic. Peace, Peace.

      Silence, Silence.

      Chorus. Stand aside! Keep out of sight! List to the sacrificial cries!

      There he comes, the very fellow, going out to sacrifice.

      Wait and watch him for a minute, we shall

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