Chapter 3
I invoke thee, Acharnian Muse, fierce and fell as the devouring fire; sudden as the spark that bursts from the crackling oaken coal when roused by the quickening fan to fry little fishes, while others knead the dough or whip the sharp Thasian pickle with rapid hand, so break forth, my Muse, and inspire thy tribesmen with rough, vigorous, stirring strains.
We others, now old men and heavy with years, we reproach the city; so many are the victories we have gained for the Athenian fleets that we well deserve to be cared for in our declining life; yet far from this, we are ill-used, harassed with law-suits, delivered over to the scorn of stripling orators. Our minds and bodies being ravaged with age, Posidon should protect us, yet we have no other support than a staff. When standing before the judge, we can scarcely stammer forth the fewest words, and of justice we see but its barest shadow, whereas the accuser, desirous of conciliating the younger men, overwhelms us with his ready rhetoric; he drags us before the judge, presses us with questions, lays traps for us; the onslaught troubles, upsets and ruins poor old Tithonus, who, crushed with age, stands tongue-tied; sentenced to a fine,(3) he weeps, he sobs and says to his friend, "This fine robs me of the last trifle that was to have bought my coffin."
Is this not a scandal? What! the clepsydra(4) is to kill the white-haired veteran, who, in fierce fighting, has so oft covered himself with glorious sweat, whose valour at Marathon saved the country! 'Twas we who pursued on the field of Marathon, whereas now 'tis wretches who pursue us to the death and crush us! What would Marpsias reply to this?(5) What an injustice that a man, bent with age like Thucydides, should be brow-beaten by this braggart advocate, Cephisodemus,(6) who is as savage as the Scythian desert he was born in! Is it not to convict him from the outset? I wept tears of pity when I saw an Archer(7) maltreat this old man, who, by Ceres, when he was young and the true Thucydides, would not have permitted an insult from Ceres herself! At that date he would have floored ten orators, he would have terrified three thousand Archers with his shouts; he would have pierced the whole line of the enemy with his shafts. Ah! but if you will not leave the aged in peace, decree that the advocates be matched; thus the old man will only be confronted with a toothless greybeard, the young will fight with the braggart, the ignoble with the son of Clinias;(8) make a law that in the future, the old man can only be summoned and convicted at the courts by the aged and the young man by the youth.
f(1) The 'parabasis' in the Old Comedy was a sort of address or topical harangue addressed directly by the poet, speaking by the Chorus, to the audience. It was nearly always political in bearing, and the subject of the particular piece was for the time being set aside altogether.
f(2) It will be remembered that Aristophanes owned land in Aegina.
f(3) Everything was made the object of a law-suit in Athens. The old soldiers, inexpert at speaking, often lost the day.
f(4) A water-clock used to limit the length of speeches in the courts.
f(5) A braggart speaker, fiery and pugnacious.
f(6) Cephisodemus was an Athenian, but through his mother possessed Scythian blood.
f(7) The city of Athens was policed by Scythian archers.
f(8) Alcibiades.
DICAEOPOLIS These are the confines of my market-place. All Peloponnesians, Megarians, Boeotians, have the right to come and trade here, provided they sell their wares to me and not to Lamachus. As market-inspectors I appoint these three whips of Leprean(1) leather, chosen by lot. Warned away are all informers and all men of Phasis.(2) They are bringing me the pillar on which the treaty is inscribed(3) and I shall erect it in the centre of the market, well in sight of all.
f(1) The leather market was held in Lepros, outside the city.
f(2) Mean an informer ((from the Greek) 'to denounce').
f(3) According to the Athenian custom.
A MEGARIAN Hail! market of Athens, beloved of Megarians. Let Zeus, the patron of friendship, witness, I regretted you as a mother mourns her son. Come, poor little daughters of an unfortunate father, try to find something to eat; listen to me with the full heed of an empty belly. Which would you prefer? To be sold or to cry with hunger?
DAUGHTERS To be sold, to be sold!
MEGARIAN That is my opinion too. But who would make so sorry a deal as to buy you? Ah! I recall me a Megarian trick; I am going to disguise you as little porkers, that I am offering for sale. Fit your hands with these hoofs and take care to appear the issue of a sow of good breed, for, if I am forced to take you back to the house, by Hermes! you will suffer cruelly of hunger! Then fix on these snouts and cram yourselves into this sack. Forget not to grunt and to say wee-wee like the little pigs that are sacrificed in the Mysteries. I must summon Dicaeopolis. Where is be? Dicaeopolis, do you want to buy some nice little porkers?
DICAEOPOLIS Who are you? a Megarian?
MEGARIAN I have come to your market.
DICAEOPOLIS Well, how are things at Megara?(1)
f(1) Megara was allied to Sparta and suffered during the war more than any other city because of its proximity to Athens.
MEGARIAN We are crying with hunger at our firesides.
DICAEOPOLIS The fireside is jolly enough with a piper. But what else is doing at Megara, eh?
MEGARIAN What else? When I left for the market, the authorities were taking steps to let us die in the quickest manner.
DICAEOPOLIS That is the best way to get you out of all your troubles.
MEGARIAN True.
DICAEOPOLIS What other news of Megara? What is wheat selling at?
MEGARIAN With us it is valued as highly as the very gods in heaven!
DICAEOPOLIS Is it salt that you are bringing?
MEGARIAN Are you not holding back the salt?
DICAEOPOLIS 'Tis garlic then?
MEGARIAN What! garlic! do you not at every raid grub up the ground with your pikes to pull out every single head?
DICAEOPOLIS What DO you bring then?
MEGARIAN Little sows, like those they immolate at the Mysteries.
DICAEOPOLIS Ah! very well, show me them.
MEGARIAN They are very fine; feel their weight. See! how fat and fine.
DICAEOPOLIS But what is this?
MEGARIAN A SOW, for a certainty.(1)
f(1) Throughout this whole scene there is an obscene play upon (a) word which means in Greek both 'sow' and 'a woman's organs of generation.'
DICAEOPOLIS You say a sow! Of what country, then?
MEGARIAN From Megara. What! is it not a sow then?
DICAEOPOLIS No, I don't believe it is.
MEGARIAN This is too much! what an incredulous man! He says 'tis not a sow; but we will stake, an you will, a measure of salt ground up with thyme, that in good Greek this is called a sow and nothing else.
DICAEOPOLIS But a sow of the human kind.
MEGARIAN Without question, by Diocles! of my own breed! Well! What think you? will you hear them squeal?
DICAEOPOLIS Well, yes, I' faith, I will.
MEGARIAN Cry quickly, wee sowlet; squeak up, hussy, or by Hermes! I take you back to the house.
GIRL Wee-wee, wee-wee!
MEGARIAN Is that a little sow, or not?
DICAEOPOLIS Yes, it seems so; but let it grow up, and it will be a fine fat bitch.
MEGARIAN In five years it will be just like its mother.
DICAEOPOLIS But it cannot be sacrificed.
MEGARIAN And why not?
DICAEOPOLIS It has no tail.(1)
f(1) Sacrificial victims were bound to be perfect in every part; an animal, therefore, without a tail could not be offered.
MEGARIAN Because it is quite young, but in good time it will have a big one, thick and red.
DICAEOPOLIS The two are as like as two peas.
MEGARIAN They are born of the same father and mother; let them be fattened, let them grow their bristles, and they will be the finest sows you can offer to Aphrodite.
DICAEOPOLIS But sows are not immolated to Aphrodite.
MEGARIAN Not sows to Aphrodite! Why, 'tis the only goddess to whom they are offered! the flesh of my sows will be excellent on the spit.
DICAEOPOLIS Can they eat alone? They no longer need their mother!
MEGARIAN Certainly not, nor their father.
DICAEOPOLIS What do they like most?
MEGARIAN Whatever is given them; but ask for yourself.
DICAEOPOLIS Speak! little sow.
DAUGHTER Wee-wee, wee-wee!
DICAEOPOLIS Can you eat chick-pease?
DAUGHTER Wee-wee, wee-wee, wee-wee!
DICAEOPOLIS And Attic figs?
DAUGHTER Wee-wee, wee-wee!
DICAEOPOLIS What sharp squeaks at the name of figs. Come, let some figs be brought for these little pigs. Will they eat them? Goodness! how they munch them, what a grinding of teeth, mighty Heracles! I believe those pigs hail from the land of the Voracians. But surely 'tis impossible they have bolted all the figs!
MEGARIAN Yes, certainly, bar this one that I took from them.
DICAEOPOLIS Ah! what funny creatures! For what sum will you sell them?
MEGARIAN I will give you one for a bunch of garlic, and the other, if you like, for a quart measure of salt.
DICAEOPOLIS I buy them of you. Wait for me here.
MEGARIAN The deal is done. Hermes, god of good traders, grant I may sell both my wife and my mother in the same way!
AN INFORMER Hi! fellow, what countryman are you?
MEGARIAN I am a pig-merchant from Megara.
INFORMER I shall denounce both your pigs and yourself as public enemies.
MEGARIAN Ah! here our troubles begin afresh!
INFORMER Let go that sack. I will punish your Megarian lingo!(1)
f(1) The Megarians used the Doric dialect.
MEGARIAN Dicaeopolis, Dicaeopolis, they want to denounce me.
DICAEOPOLIS Who dares do this thing? Inspectors, drive out the informers. Ah! you offer to enlighten us without a lamp!(1)
f(1) A play upon (a) word which both means 'to light' and 'to denounce.'
INFORMER What! I may not denounce our enemies?
DICAEOPOLIS Have a care for yourself, if you don't go off pretty quick to denounce elsewhere.
MEGARIAN What a plague to Athens!
DICAEOPOLIS Be reassured, Megarian. Here is the price for your two swine, the garlic and the salt. Farewell and much happiness!
MEGARIAN Ah! we never have that amongst us.
DICAEOPOLIS Well! may the inopportune wish apply to myself.
MEGARIAN Farewell, dear little sows, and seek, far from your father, to munch your bread with salt, if they give you any.
CHORUS Here is a man truly happy. See how everything succeeds to his wish. Peacefully seated in his market, he will earn his living; woe to Ctesias,(1) and all other informers who dare to enter there! You will not be cheated as to the value of wares, you will not again see Prepis(2) wiping his foul rump, nor will Cleonymus(3) jostle you; you will take your walks, clothed in a fine tunic, without meeting Hyperbolus(4) and his unceasing quibblings, without being accosted on the public place by any importunate fellow, neither by Cratinus,(5) shaven in the fashion of the debauchees, nor by this musician, who plagues us with his silly improvisations, Artemo, with his arm-pits stinking as foul as a goat, like his father before him. You will not be the butt of the villainous Pauson's(6) jeers, nor of Lysistratus,(7) the disgrace of the Cholargian deme, who is the incarnation of all the vices, and endures cold and hunger more than thirty days in the month.
f(1) An informer (sycophant), otherwise unknown.
f(2) A debauchee of vile habits; a pathic.
f(3) Mentioned above; he was as proud as he was cowardly.
f(4) An Athenian general, quarrelsome and litigious, and an Informer into the bargain.
f(5) A comic poet of vile habits.
f(6) A painter.
f(7) A debauchee, a gambler, and always in extreme poverty.
A BOEOTIAN By Heracles! my shoulder is quite black and blue. Ismenias, put the penny-royal down there very gently, and all of you, musicians from Thebes, pipe with your bone flutes into a dog's rump.(1)
f(1) This kind of flute had a bellows, made of dog-skin, much like the bagpipes of to-day.
DICAEOPOLIS Enough, enough, get you gone. Rascally hornets, away with you! Whence has sprung this accursed swarm of Charis(1) fellows which comes assailing my door?
f(1) A flute-player, mentioned above.
BOEOTIAN Ah! by Iolas!(1) Drive them off, my dear host, you will please me immensely; all the way from Thebes, they were there piping behind me and have completely stripped my penny-royal of its blossom. But will you buy anything of me, some chickens or some locusts?
f(1) A hero, much honoured in Thebes; nephew of Heracles.
DICAEOPOLIS Ah! good day, Boeotian, eater of good round loaves.(1) What do you bring?
f(1) A form of bread peculiar to Boeotia.
BOEOTIAN All that is good in Boeotia, marjoram, penny-royal, rush-mats, lamp-wicks, ducks, jays, woodcocks, water-fowl, wrens, divers.
DICAEOPOLIS 'Tis a very hail of birds that beats down on my market.
BOEOTIAN I also bring geese, hares, foxes, moles, hedgehogs, cats, lyres, martins, otters and eels from the Copaic lake.(1)
f(1) A lake in Boeotia.
DICAEOPOLIS Ah! my friend, you, who bring me the most delicious of fish, let me salute your eels.
BOEOTIAN Come, thou, the eldest of my fifty Copaic virgins, come and complete the joy of our host.
DICAEOPOLIS Oh! my well-beloved, thou object of my long regrets, thou art here at last then, thou, after whom the comic poets sigh, thou, who art dear to Morychus.(1) Slaves, hither with the stove and the bellows. Look at this charming eel, that returns to us after six long years of absence.(2) Salute it, my children; as for myself, I will supply coal to do honour to the stranger. Take it into my house; death itself could not separate me from her, if cooked with beet leaves.
f(1) He was the Lucullus of Athens.
f(2) This again fixes the date of the presentation of 'The Acharnians' to 436 B.C., the sixth year of the War, since the beginning of which Boeotia had been closed to the Athenians.
BOEOTIAN And what will you give me in return?
DICAEOPOLIS It will pay for your market dues. And as to the rest, what do you wish to sell me?
BOEOTIAN Why, everything.
DICAEOPOLIS On what terms? For ready-money or in wares from these parts?
BOEOTIAN I would take some Athenian produce, that we have not got in Boeotia.
DICAEOPOLIS Phaleric anchovies, pottery?
BOEOTIAN Anchovies, pottery? But these we have. I want produce that is wanting with us and that is plentiful here.
DICAEOPOLIS Ah! I have the very thing; take away an Informer, packed up carefully as crockery-ware.
BOEOTIAN By the twin gods! I should earn big money, if I took one; I would exhibit him as an ape full of spite.
DICAEOPOLIS Hah! here we have Nicarchus,(1) who comes to denounce you.
f(1) An informer.
BOEOTIAN How small he is!
DICAEOPOLIS But in his case the whole is one mass of ill-nature.
NICARCHUS Whose are these goods?
DICAEOPOLIS Mine; they come from Boeotia, I call Zeus to witness.
NICARCHUS I denounce them as coming from an enemy's country.
BOEOTIAN What! you declare war against birds?
NICARCHUS And I am going to denounce you too.
BOEOTIAN What harm have I done you?
NICARCHUS I will say it for the benefit of those that listen; you introduce lamp-wicks from an enemy's country.
DICAEOPOLIS Then you go as far as denouncing a wick.
NICARCHUS It needs but one to set an arsenal afire.
DICAEOPOLIS A wick set an arsenal ablaze! But how, great gods?
NICARCHUS Should a Boeotian attach it to an insect's wing, and, taking advantage of a violent north wind, throw it by means of a tube into the arsenal and the fire once get hold of the vessels, everything would soon be devoured by the flames.
DICAEOPOLIS Ah! wretch! an insect and a wick devour everything! (HE STRIKES HIM.)
NICARCHUS (TO THE CHORUS) You will bear witness, that he mishandles me.
DICAEOPOLIS Shut his mouth. Give me some hay; I am going to pack him up like a vase, that he may not get broken on the road.
CHORUS Pack up your goods carefully, friend; that the stranger may not break it when taking it away.
DICAEOPOLIS I shall take great care with it, for one would say he is cracked already; he rings with a false note, which the gods abhor.
CHORUS But what will be done with him?
DICAEOPOLIS This is a vase good for all purposes; it will be used as a vessel for holding all foul things, a mortar for pounding together law-suits, a lamp for spying upon accounts, and as a cup for the mixing up and poisoning of everything.
CHORUS None could ever trust a vessel for domestic use that has such a ring about it.
DICAEOPOLIS Oh! it is strong, my friend, and will never get broken, if care is taken to hang it head downwards.
CHORUS There! it is well packed now!
BOEOTIAN Marry, I will proceed to carry off my bundle.
CHORUS Farewell, worthiest of strangers, take this informer, good for anything, and fling him where you like.
DICAEOPOLIS Bah! this rogue has given me enough trouble to pack! Here! Boeotian, pick up your pottery.
BOEOTIAN Stoop, Ismenias, that I may put it on your shoulder, and be very careful with it.
DICAEOPOLIS You carry nothing worth having; however, take it, for you will profit by your bargain; the Informers will bring you luck.
A SERVANT OF LAMACHUS Dicaeopolis!
DICAEOPOLIS What do you want crying this gait?
SERVANT Lamachus wants to keep the Feast of Cups,(1) and I come by his order to bid you one drachma for some thrushes and three more for a Copaic eel.
f(1) The second day of the Dionysia or feasts of Bacchus, kept in the month Anthesterion (February), and called the Anthesteria. They lasted three days; the second being the Feast of Cups, the third the Feast of Pans. Vases, filled with grain of all kinds, were borne in procession and dedicated to Hermes.
DICAEOPOLIS And who is this Lamachus, who demands an eel?
SERVANT 'Tis the terrible, indefatigable Lamachus, who is always brandishing his fearful Gorgon's head and the three plumes which o'ershadow his helmet.
DICAEOPOLIS No, no, he will get nothing, even though he gave me his buckler. Let him eat salt fish, while he shakes his plumes, and, if he comes here making any din, I shall call the inspectors. As for myself, I shall take away all these goods; I go home on thrushes' wings and black-birds' pinions.(1)
f(1) A parody on some verses from a lost poet.
CHORUS You see, citizens, you see the good fortune which this man owes to his prudence, to his profound wisdom. You see how, since he has concluded peace, he buys what is useful in the household and good to eat hot. All good things flow towards him unsought. Never will I welcome the god of war in my house; never shall he chant the "Harmodius" at my table;(1) he is a sot, who comes feasting with those who are overflowing with good things and brings all manner of mischief at his heels. He overthrows, ruins, rips open; 'tis vain to make him a thousand offers, "be seated, pray, drink this cup, proffered in all friendship," he burns our vine-stocks and brutally pours out the wine from our vineyards on the ground. This man, on the other hand, covers his table with a thousand dishes; proud of his good fortunes, he has had these feathers cast before his door to show us how he lives.
f(1) A feasting song in honour of Harmodius, the assassin of Hipparchus the Tyrant, son of Pisistratus.
DICAEOPOLIS Oh, Peace! companion of fair Aphrodite and of the sweet Graces, how charming are thy features and yet I never knew it! Would that Eros might join me to thee, Eros, crowned with roses as Zeuxis(1) shows him to us! Perhaps I seem somewhat old to you, but I am yet able to make you a threefold offering; despite my age I could plant a long row of vines for you; then beside these some tender cuttings from the fig; finally a young vine-stock, loaded with fruit and all around the field olive trees, which would furnish us with oil, wherewith to anoint us both at the New Moons.
f(1) The celebrated painter, born in Heraclea, a contemporary of Aristophanes.
HERALD List, ye people! As was the custom of your forebears, empty a full pitcher of wine at the call of the trumpet; he, who first sees the bottom, shall get a wine-skin as round and plump as Ctesiphon's belly.
DICAEOPOLIS Women, children, have you not heard? Faith! do you not heed the herald? Quick! let the hares boil and roast merrily; keep them a-turning; withdraw them from the flame; prepare the chaplets; reach me the skewers that I may spit the thrushes.
CHORUS I envy you your wisdom and even more your good cheer.
DICAEOPOLIS What then will you say when you see the thrushes roasting?
CHORUS Ah! true indeed!
DICAEOPOLIS Slave! stir up the fire.
CHORUS See, how he knows his business, what a perfect cook! How well he understands the way to prepare a good dinner!
A HUSBANDMAN Ah! woe is me!
DICAEOPOLIS Heracles! What have we here?
HUSBANDMAN A most miserable man.
DICAEOPOLIS Keep your misery for yourself.
HUSBANDMAN Ah! friend! since you alone are enjoying peace, grant me a part of your truce, were it but five years.
DICAEOPOLIS What has happened to you?
HUSBANDMAN I am ruined; I have lost a pair of steers.
DICAEOPOLIS How?
HUSBANDMAN The Boeotians seized them at Phyle.(1)
f(1) A deme and frontier fortress of Attica, near the Boeotian border.
DICAEOPOLIS Ah! poor wretch! and yet you have not left off white?
HUSBANDMAN Their dung made my wealth.
DICAEOPOLIS What can I do in the matter?
HUSBANDMAN Crying for my beasts has lost me my eyesight. Ah! if you care for poor Dercetes of Phyle, anoint mine eyes quickly with your balm of peace.
DICAEOPOLIS But, my poor fellow, I do not practise medicine.
HUSBANDMAN Come, I adjure you; perhaps I shall recover my steers.
DICAEOPOLIS 'Tis impossible; away, go and whine to the disciples of Pittalus.(1)
f(1) An Athenian physician of the day.
HUSBANDMAN Grant me but one drop of peace; pour it into this reedlet.
DICAEOPOLIS No, not a particle; go a-weeping elsewhere.
HUSBANDMAN Oh! oh! oh! my poor beasts!
CHORUS This man has discovered the sweetest enjoyment in peace; he will share it with none.
DICAEOPOLIS Pour honey over this tripe; set it before the fire to dry.
CHORUS What lofty tones he uses! Did you hear him?
DICAEOPOLIS Get the eels on the gridiron!
CHORUS You are killing me with hunger; your smoke is choking your neighbours, and you split our ears with your bawling.
DICAEOPOLIS Have this fried and let it be nicely browned.
A BRIDESMAID Dicaeopolis! Dicaeopolis!
DICAEOPOLIS Who are you?
BRIDESMAID A young bridegroom sends you these viands from the marriage feast.
DICAEOPOLIS Whoever he be, I thank him.
BRIDESMAID And in return, he prays you to pour a glass of peace into this vase, that he may not have to go to the front and may stay at home to do his duty to his young wife.
DICAEOPOLIS Take back, take back your viands; for a thousand drachmae I would not give a drop of peace; but who are you, pray?
BRIDESMAID I am the bridesmaid; she wants to say something to you from the bride privately.
DICAEOPOLIS Come, what do you wish to say? (THE BRIDESMAID WHISPERS IN HIS EAR.) Ah! what a ridiculous demand! The bride burns with longing to keep by her her husband's weapon. Come! \bring hither my truce; to her alone will I give some of it, for she is a woman, and, as such, should not suffer under the war. Here, friend, reach hither your vial. And as to the manner of applying this balm, tell the bride, when a levy of soldiers is made to rub some in bed on her husband, where most needed. There, slave, take away my truce! Now, quick, bring me the wine-flagon, that I may fill up the drinking bowls!
CHORUS I see a man, striding along apace, with knitted brows; he seems to us the bearer of terrible tidings.