DICAEOPOLIS
Xanthias, walk behind the basket-bearer and hold the phallus well
erect; I will follow, singing the Phallic hymn; thou, wife, look on from
the top of the terrace.[1] Forward! Oh, Phales,[2] companion of the orgies
of Bacchus, night reveller, god of adultery, friend of young men, these
past six[3] years I have not been able to invoke thee. With what joy I
return to my farmstead, thanks to the truce I have concluded, freed
from cares, from fighting and from Lamachuses![4] How much sweeter,
oh Phales, oh, Phales, is it to surprise Thratta, the pretty woodmaid,
Strymodorus' slave, stealing wood from Mount Phelleus, to catch her
under the arms, to throw her on the ground and possess her, Oh, Phales,
Phales! If thou wilt drink and bemuse thyself with me, we shall
to-morrow consume some good dish in honour of the peace, and I will
hang up my buckler over the smoking hearth.
f[1] Married women did not join in the processions.
f[2] The god of generation, worshipped in the form of a phallus.
f[3] A remark which fixes the date of the production of 'The Acharnians,'
viz. the sixth year of the Peloponnesian War, 426 B.C.
f[4] Lamachus was an Athenian general, who figures later in this comedy.
CHORUS
It is he, he himself. Stone him, stone him, stone him, strike
the wretch. All, all of you, pelt him, pelt him!
DICAEOPOLIS
What is this? By Heracles, you will smash my pot.[1]
f[1] At the rural Dionysia a pot of kitchen vegetables was borne in
the procession along with other emblems.
CHORUS
It is you that we are stoning, you miserable scoundrel.
DICAEOPOLIS
And for what sin, Acharnian Elders, tell me that!
CHORUS
You ask that, you impudent rascal, traitor to your country; you
alone amongst us all have concluded a truce, and you dare to look us
in the face!
DICAEOPOLIS
But you do not know WHY I have treated for peace. Listen!
CHORUS
Listen to you? No, no, you are about to die, we will annihilate
you with our stones.
DICAEOPOLIS
But first of all, listen. Stop, my friends.
CHORUS
I will hear nothing; do not address me; I hate you more than I
do Cleon,[1] whom one day I shall flay to make sandals for the Knights.
Listen to your long speeches, after you have treated with the
Laconians? No, I will punish you.
f[1] Cleon the Demagogue was a currier originally by trade. He was the
sworn foe and particular detestation of the Knights or aristocratic party
generally.
DICAEOPOLIS
Friends, leave the Laconians out of debate and consider only
whether I have not done well to conclude my truce.
CHORUS
Done well! when you have treated with a people who know neither
gods, nor truth, nor faith.
DICAEOPOLIS
We attribute too much to the Laconians; as for myself, I know that
they are not the cause of all our troubles.
CHORUS
Oh, indeed, rascal! You dare to use such language to me and then
expect me to spare you!
DICAEOPOLIS
No, no, they are not the cause of all our troubles, and I who
address you claim to be able to prove that they have much to
complain of in us.
CHORUS
This passes endurance; my heart bounds with fury. Thus you dare to
defend our enemies.
DICAEOPOLIS
Were my head on the block I would uphold what I say and rely on
the approval of the people.
CHORUS
Comrades, let us hurl our stones and dye this fellow purple.
DICAEOPOLIS
What black fire-brand has inflamed your heart! You will not hear
me? You really will not, Acharnians?
CHORUS
No, a thousand times, no.
DICAEOPOLIS
This is a hateful injustice.
CHORUS
May I die, if I listen.
DICAEOPOLIS
Nay, nay! have mercy, have mercy, Acharnians.
CHORUS
You shall die.
DICAEOPOLIS
Well, blood for blood! I will kill your dearest friend. I have
here the hostages of Acharnae;[1] I shall disembowel them.
f[1] That is, the baskets of charcoal.
CHORUS
Acharnians, what means this threat? Has he got one of our children
in his house? What gives him such audacity?
DICAEOPOLIS
Stone me, if it please you; I shall avenge myself on this.
(SHOWS A BASKET.) Let us see whether you have any love
for your coals.
CHORUS
Great Gods! this basket is our fellow-citizen. Stop, stop,
in heaven's name!
DICAEOPOLIS
I shall dismember it despite your cries; I will listen to nothing.
CHORUS
How! will you kill this coal-basket, my beloved comrade?
DICAEOPOLIS
Just now, you would not listen to me.
CHORUS
Well, speak now, if you will; tell us, tell us you have a weakness
for the Lacedaemonians. I consent to anything; never will I forsake
this dear little basket.
DICAEOPOLIS
First, throw down your stones.
CHORUS
There! 'tis done. And you, do put away your sword.
DICAEOPOLIS
Let me see that no stones remain concealed in your cloaks.
CHORUS
They are all on the ground; see how we shake our garments. Come,
no haggling, lay down your sword; we threw away everything while
crossing from one side of the stage to the other.[1]
f[1] The stage of the Greek theatre was much broader, and at the same
time shallower, than in a modern playhouse.
DICAEOPOLIS
What cries of anguish you would have uttered had these coals of
Parnes[1] been dismembered, and yet it came very near it; had they
perished, their death would have been due to the folly of their
fellow-citizens. The poor basket was so frightened, look, it has
shed a thick black dust over me, the same as a cuttle-fish does.
What an irritable temper! You shout and throw stones, you will not
hear my arguments--not even when I propose to speak in favour of the
Lacedaemonians with my head on the block; and yet I cling to life.
f[1] A mountain in Attica, in the neighbourhood of Acharnae.
CHORUS
Well then, bring out a block before your door, scoundrel, and
let us hear the good grounds you can give us; I am curious to know
them. Now mind, as you proposed yourself, place your head on the block
and speak.
DICAEOPOLIS
Here is the block; and, though I am but a very sorry speaker, I
wish nevertheless to talk freely of the Lacedaemonians and without the
protection of my buckler. Yet I have many reasons for fear. I know our
rustics; they are delighted if some braggart comes, and rightly or
wrongly, loads both them and their city with praise and flattery; they
do not see that such toad-eaters[1] are traitors, who sell them for gain.
As for the old men, I know their weakness; they only seek to overwhelm
the accused with their votes.[2] Nor have I forgotten how Cleon treated
me because of my comedy last year;[3] he dragged me before the Senate
and there he uttered endless slanders against me; 'twas a tempest of
abuse, a deluge of lies. Through what a slough of mud he dragged me! I
almost perished. Permit me, therefore, before I speak, to dress in the
manner most likely to draw pity.
f[1] Orators in the pay of the enemy.
f[2] Satire on the Athenians' addiction to law-suits.
f[3] 'The Babylonians.' Cleon had denounced Aristophanes to the Senate for
having scoffed at Athens before strangers, many of whom were present at
the performance. The play is now lost.
CHORUS
What evasions, subterfuges and delays! Hold! here is the sombre
helmet of Pluto with its thick bristling plume; Hieronymus[1] lends it to
you; then open Sisyphus'[2] bag of wiles; but hurry, hurry, pray, for
discussion does not admit of delay.
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