DICAEOPOLIS. Pour honey on the cake. Hah! hah! I can see an old man who makes Lamachus of the Gorgon's head weep with rage.
LAMACHUS. Slave, full war armour.
DICAEOPOLIS. Slave, my beaker; that is my armour.
LAMACHUS. With this I hold my ground with any foe.
DICAEOPOLIS. And I with this with any tosspot.
LAMACHUS. Fasten the strappings to the buckler; personally I shall carry the knapsack.
DICAEOPOLIS. Pack the dinner well into the basket; personally I shall carry the cloak.
LAMACHUS. Slave, take up the buckler and let's be off. It is snowing! Ah! 'tis a question of facing the winter.
DICAEOPOLIS. Take up the basket, 'tis a question of getting to the feast.
CHORUS. We wish you both joy on your journeys, which differ so much. One goes to mount guard and freeze, while the other will drink, crowned with flowers, and then sleep with a young beauty, who will rub his tool for him.
I say it freely; may Zeus confound Antimachus, the poet-historian, the son of Psacas! When Choregus at the Lenaea, alas! alas! he dismissed me dinnerless. May I see him devouring with his eyes a cuttle-fish, just served, well cooked, hot and properly salted; and the moment that he stretches his hand to help himself, may a dog seize it and run off with it. Such is my first wish. I also hope for him a misfortune at night. That returning all-fevered from horse practice, he may meet an Orestes,260 mad with drink, who breaks open his head; that wishing to seize a stone, he, in the dark, may pick up a fresh stool, hurl his missile, miss aim and hit Cratinus.261
SLAVE OF LAMACHUS. Slaves of Lamachus! Water, water in a little pot! Make it warm, get ready cloths, cerate, greasy wool and bandages for his ankle. In leaping a ditch, the master has hurt himself against a stake; he has dislocated and twisted his ankle, broken his head by falling on a stone, while his Gorgon shot far away from his buckler. His mighty braggadocio plume rolled on the ground; at this sight he uttered these doleful words, "Radiant star, I gaze on thee for the last time; my eyes close to all light, I die." Having said this, he falls into the water, gets out again, meets some runaways and pursues the robbers with his spear at their backsides.262 But here he comes, himself. Get the door open.
LAMACHUS. Oh! heavens! oh! heavens! What cruel pain! I faint, I tremble! Alas! I die! the foe's lance has struck me! But what would hurt me most would be for Dicaeopolis to see me wounded thus and laugh at my ill-fortune.
DICAEOPOLIS (enters with two courtesans). Oh! my gods! what bosoms! Hard as a quince! Come, my treasures, give me voluptuous kisses! Glue your lips to mine. Haha! I was the first to empty my cup.
LAMACHUS. Oh! cruel fate! how I suffer! accursed wounds!
DICAEOPOLIS. Hah! hah! hail! Knight Lamachus! (Embraces Lamachus.)
LAMACHUS. By the hostile gods! (Bites Dicaeopolis.)
DICAEOPOLIS. Ah! great gods!
LAMACHUS. Why do you embrace me?
DICAEOPOLIS. And why do you bite me?
LAMACHUS. 'Twas a cruel score I was paying back!
DICAEOPOLIS. Scores are not evened at the feast of Cups!
LAMACHUS. Oh! Paean, Paean!
DICAEOPOLIS. But to-day is not the feast of Paean.
LAMACHUS. Oh! support my leg, do; ah! hold it tenderly, my friends!
DICAEOPOLIS. And you, my darlings, take hold of my tool both of you!
LAMACHUS. This blow with the stone makes me dizzy; my sight grows dim.
DICAEOPOLIS. For myself, I want to get to bed; I am bursting with lustfulness, I want to be fucking in the dark.
LAMACHUS. Carry me to the surgeon Pittalus.
DICAEOPOLIS. Take me to the judges. Where is the king of the feast? The wine-skin is mine!
LAMACHUS. That spear has pierced my bones; what torture I endure!
DICAEOPOLIS. You see this empty cup! I triumph! I triumph!
CHORUS. Old man, I come at your bidding! You triumph! you triumph!
DICAEOPOLIS. Again I have brimmed my cup with unmixed wine and drained it at a draught!
CHORUS. You triumph then, brave champion; thine is the wine-skin!
DICAEOPOLIS. Follow me, singing "Triumph! Triumph!"
CHORUS. Aye! we will sing of thee, thee and thy sacred wine-skin, and we all, as we follow thee, will repeat in thine honour, "Triumph, Triumph!"
The 'Peace' was brought out four years after 'The Acharnians' (422 B.C.), when the War had already lasted ten years. The leading motive is the same as in the former play—the intense desire of the less excitable and more moderate-minded citizens for relief from the miseries of war.
Trygaeus, a rustic patriot, finding no help in men, resolves to ascend to heaven to expostulate personally with Zeus for allowing this wretched state of things to continue. With this object he has fed and trained a gigantic dung-beetle, which he mounts, and is carried, like Bellerophon on Pegasus, on an aerial journey. Eventually he reaches Olympus, only to find that the gods have gone elsewhere, and that the heavenly abode is occupied solely by the demon of War, who is busy pounding up the Greek States in a huge mortar. However, his benevolent purpose is not in vain; for learning from Hermes that the goddess Peace has been cast into a pit, where she is kept a fast prisoner, he calls upon the different peoples of Hellas to make a united effort and rescue her, and with their help drags her out and brings her back in triumph to earth. The play concludes with the restoration of the goddess to her ancient honours, the festivities of the rustic population and the nuptials of Trygaeus with Opora (Harvest), handmaiden of Peace, represented as a pretty courtesan.
Such references as there are to Cleon in this play are noteworthy. The great Demagogue was now dead, having fallen in the same action as the rival Spartan general, the renowned Brasidas, before Amphipolis, and whatever Aristophanes says here of his old enemy is conceived in the spirit of 'de mortuis nil nisi bonum.' In one scene Hermes is descanting on the evils which had nearly ruined Athens and declares that 'The Tanner' was the cause of them all. But Trygaeus interrupts him with the words:
"Hold—say not so, good master Hermes;
Let the man rest in peace where now he lies.
He is no longer of our world, but yours."
Here surely we have a trait of magnanimity on the author's part as admirable in its way as the wit and boldness of his former attacks had been in theirs.
TRYGAEUS.
TWO SERVANTS of TRYGAEUS.
MAIDENS, Daughters of TRYGAEUS.
HERMES.
WAR.
TUMULT.
HIEROCLES, a Soothsayer.
A SICKLE-MAKER.
A CREST-MAKER.
A TRUMPET-MAKER.
A HELMET-MAKER.
A SPEAR-MAKER.
SON OF LAMACHUS.
SON OF CLEONYMUS.
CHORUS OF HUSBANDMEN.
FIRST SERVANT. Quick, quick, bring the dung-beetle his cake.
SECOND SERVANT. Coming, coming.
FIRST SERVANT. Give it to him, and may it kill him!
SECOND SERVANT. May he never eat a better.
FIRST SERVANT. Now give him this other one kneaded up with ass's dung.
SECOND SERVANT. There! I've done that too.
FIRST SERVANT. And where's what you gave him just now; surely he can't have devoured it yet!
SECOND SERVANT. Indeed he has; he snatched it, rolled it between his feet and boiled it.
FIRST SERVANT. Come, hurry up, knead up a lot and knead them stiffly.
SECOND SERVANT. Oh, scavengers, help me in the name of the gods, if you do not wish to see me fall down choked.
FIRST SERVANT. Come, come, another made of the stool of a young scapegrace catamite. 'Twill be to the beetle's taste; he likes it well ground.263
SECOND SERVANT. There! I am free at least from suspicion; none will accuse me of tasting what I mix.
FIRST SERVANT. Faugh! come, now another! keep on mixing with all your might.
SECOND SERVANT. I' faith, no. I can stand this awful cesspool stench no longer, so I bring you the whole ill-smelling gear.
FIRST SERVANT. Pitch it down the sewer sooner, and yourself with it.
SECOND SERVANT. Maybe, one of you can tell me where I can buy a stopped-up nose, for there is no work more disgusting than to mix food for a beetle and to carry it to him. A pig or a dog will at least pounce upon our excrement without more ado, but this foul wretch affects the disdainful, the spoilt mistress, and won't eat unless I offer him a cake that has been kneaded for an entire day…. But let us open the door a bit ajar without his seeing it. Has he done eating? Come, pluck up courage, cram yourself till you burst! The cursed creature! It wallows in its food! It grips it between its claws like a wrestler clutching his opponent, and with head and feet together rolls up its paste like a ropemaker twisting a hawser. What an indecent, stinking, gluttonous beast! I know not what angry god let this monster loose upon us, but of a certainty it was neither Aphrodité nor the Graces.
FIRST SERVANT. Who was it then?
SECOND SERVANT. No doubt the Thunderer, Zeus.
FIRST SERVANT. But perhaps some spectator, some beardless youth, who thinks himself a sage, will say, "What is this? What does the beetle mean?" And then an Ionian,264 sitting next him, will add, "I think 'tis an allusion to Cleon, who so shamelessly feeds on filth all by himself."—But now I'm going indoors to fetch the beetle a drink.
SECOND SERVANT. As for me, I will explain the matter to you all, children, youths, grown-ups and old men, aye, even to the decrepit dotards. My master is mad, not as you are, but with another sort of madness, quite a new kind. The livelong day he looks open-mouthed towards heaven and never stops addressing Zeus. "Ah! Zeus," he cries, "what are thy intentions? Lay aside thy besom; do not sweep Greece away!"
TRYGAEUS. Ah! ah! ah!
FIRST SERVANT. Hush, hush! Methinks I hear his voice!
TRYGAEUS. Oh! Zeus, what art thou going to do for our people? Dost thou not see this, that our cities will soon be but empty husks?
FIRST SLAVE. As I told you, that is his form of madness. There you have a sample of his follies. When his trouble first began to seize him, he said to himself, "By what means could I go straight to Zeus?" Then he made himself very slender little ladders and so clambered up towards heaven; but he soon came hurtling down again and broke his head. Yesterday, to our misfortune, he went out and brought us back this thoroughbred, but from where I know not, this great beetle, whose groom he has forced me to become. He himself caresses it as though it were a horse, saying, "Oh! my little Pegasus,265 my noble aerial steed, may your wings soon bear me straight to Zeus!" But what is my master doing? I must stoop down to look through this hole. Oh! great gods! Here! neighbours, run here quick! here is my master flying off mounted on his beetle as if on horseback.
TRYGAEUS. Gently, gently, go easy, beetle; don't start off so proudly, or trust at first too greatly to your powers; wait till you have sweated, till the beating of your wings shall make your limb joints supple. Above all things, don't let off some foul smell, I adjure you; else I would rather have you stop in the stable altogether.
SECOND SERVANT. Poor master! Is he crazy?
TRYGAEUS. Silence! silence!
SECOND SERVANT (to Trygaeus). But why start up into the air on chance?
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis for the weal of all the Greeks; I am attempting a daring and novel feat.
SECOND SERVANT. But what is your purpose? What useless folly!
TRYGAEUS. No words of ill omen! Give vent to joy and command all men to keep silence, to close down their drains and privies with new tiles and to stop their own vent-holes.266
FIRST SERVANT. No, I shall not be silent, unless you tell me where you are going.
TRYGAEUS. Why, where am I likely to be going across the sky, if it be not to visit Zeus?
FIRST SERVANT. For what purpose?
TRYGAEUS. I want to ask him what he reckons to do for all the Greeks.
SECOND SERVANT. And if he doesn't tell you?
TRYGAEUS. I shall pursue him at law as a traitor who sells Greece to the Medes.267
SECOND SERVANT. Death seize me, if I let you go.
TRYGAEUS. It is absolutely necessary.
SECOND SERVANT. Alas! alas! dear little girls, your father is deserting you secretly to go to heaven. Ah! poor orphans, entreat him, beseech him.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Father! father! what is this I hear? Is it true? What! you would leave me, you would vanish into the sky, you would go to the crows?268 'Tis impossible! Answer, father, an you love me.
TRYGAEUS. Yes, I am going. You hurt me too sorely, my daughters, when you ask me for bread, calling me your daddy, and there is not the ghost of an obolus in the house; if I succeed and come back, you will have a barley loaf every morning—and a punch in the eye for sauce!
LITTLE DAUGHTER. But how will you make the journey? 'Tis not a ship that will carry you thither.
TRYGAEUS. No, but this winged steed will.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. But what an idea, daddy, to harness a beetle, on which to fly to the gods.
TRYGAEUS. We see from Aesop's fables that they alone can fly to the abode of the Immortals.269
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Father, father, 'tis a tale nobody can believe! that such a stinking creature can have gone to the gods.
TRYGAEUS. It went to have vengeance on the eagle and break its eggs.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Why not saddle Pegasus? you would have a more tragic270 appearance in the eyes of the gods.
TRYGAEUS. Eh! don't you see, little fool, that then twice the food would be wanted? Whereas my beetle devours again as filth what I have eaten myself.
LITTLE DAUGHTER. And if it fell into the watery depths of the sea, could it escape with its wings?
TRYGAEUS (showing his penis). I am fitted with a rudder in case of need, and my Naxos beetle will serve me as a boat.271
LITTLE DAUGHTER. And what harbour will you put in at?
TRYGAEUS. Why, is there not the harbour of Cantharos at the Piraeus?272
LITTLE DAUGHTER. Take care not to knock against anything and so fall off into space; once a cripple, you would be a fit subject for Euripides, who would put you into a tragedy.273
TRYGAEUS. I'll see to it. Good-bye! (To the Athenians.) You, for love of whom I brave these dangers, do ye neither let wind nor go to stool for the space of three days, for, if, while cleaving the air, my steed should scent anything, he would fling me head foremost from the summit of my hopes. Now come, my Pegasus, get a-going with up-pricked ears and make your golden bridle resound gaily. Eh! what are you doing? What are you up to? Do you turn your nose towards the cesspools? Come, pluck up a spirit; rush upwards from the earth, stretch out your speedy wings and make straight for the palace of Zeus; for once give up foraging in your daily food.—Hi! you down there, what are you after now? Oh! my god! 'tis a man emptying his belly in the Piraeus, close to the house where the bad girls are. But is it my death you seek then, my death? Will you not bury that right away and pile a great heap of earth upon it and plant wild thyme therein and pour perfumes on it? If I were to fall from up here and misfortune happened to me, the town of Chios274would owe a fine of five talents for my death, all along of your cursed rump. Alas! how frightened I am! oh! I have no heart for jests. Ah! machinist, take great care of me. There is already a wind whirling round my navel; take great care or, from sheer fright, I shall form food for my beetle…. But I think I am no longer far from the gods; aye, that is the dwelling of Zeus, I perceive. Hullo! Hi! where is the doorkeeper? Will no one open?
The scene changes and heaven is presented.
HERMES. Meseems I can sniff a man. (He perceives Trygaeus astride his beetle.) Why, what plague is this?
TRYGAEUS. A horse-beetle.
HERMES. Oh! impudent, shameless rascal! oh! scoundrel! triple scoundrel! the greatest scoundrel in the world! how did you come here? Oh! scoundrel of all scoundrels! your name? Reply.
TRYGAEUS. Triple scoundrel.
HERMES. Your country?
TRYGAEUS. Triple scoundrel.
HERMES. Your father?
TRYGAEUS. My father? Triple scoundrel.
HERMES. By the Earth, you shall die, unless you tell me your name.
TRYGAEUS. I am Trygaeus of the Athmonian deme, a good vine-dresser, little addicted to quibbling and not at all an informer.
HERMES. Why do you come?
TRYGAEUS. I come to bring you this meat.
HERMES. Ah! my good friend, did you have a good journey?
TRYGAEUS. Glutton, be off! I no longer seem a triple scoundrel to you. Come, call Zeus.
HERMES. Ah! ah! you are a long way yet from reaching the gods, for they moved yesterday.
TRYGAEUS. To what part of the earth?
HERMES. Eh! of the earth, did you say?
TRYGAEUS. In short, where are they then?
HERMES. Very far, very far, right at the furthest end of the dome of heaven.
TRYGAEUS. But why have they left you all alone here?
HERMES. I am watching what remains of the furniture, the little pots and pans, the bits of chairs and tables, and odd wine-jars.
TRYGAEUS. And why have the gods moved away?
HERMES. Because of their wrath against the Greeks. They have located War in the house they occupied themselves and have given him full power to do with you exactly as he pleases; then they went as high up as ever they could, so as to see no more of your fights and to hear no more of your prayers.
TRYGAEUS. What reason have they for treating us so?
HERMES. Because they have afforded you an opportunity for peace more than once, but you have always preferred war. If the Laconians got the very slightest advantage, they would exclaim, "By the Twin Brethren! the Athenians shall smart for this." If, on the contrary, the latter triumphed and the Laconians came with peace proposals, you would say, "By Demeter, they want to deceive us. No, by Zeus, we will not hear a word; they will always be coming as long as we hold Pylos."275
TRYGAEUS. Yes, that is quite the style our folk do talk in.
HERMES. So that I don't know whether you will ever see Peace again.
TRYGAEUS. Why, where has she gone to then?
HERMES. War has cast her into a deep pit.
TRYGAEUS. Where?
HERMES. Down there, at the very bottom. And you see what heaps of stones he has piled over the top, so that you should never pull her out again.
TRYGAEUS. Tell me, what is War preparing against us?
HERMES. All I know is that last evening he brought along a huge mortar.
TRYGAEUS. And what is he going to do with his mortar?
HERMES. He wants to pound up all the cities of Greece in it…. But I must say good-bye, for I think he is coming out; what an uproar he is making!
TRYGAEUS. Ah! great gods! let us seek safety; meseems I already hear the noise of this fearful war mortar.
WAR (enters carrying a mortar). Oh! mortals, mortals, wretched mortals, how your jaws will snap!
TRYGAEUS. Oh! divine Apollo! what a prodigious big mortar! Oh, what misery the very sight of War causes me! This then is the foe from whom I fly, who is so cruel, so formidable, so stalwart, so solid on his legs!
WAR. Oh! Prasiae!276 thrice wretched, five times, aye, a thousand times wretched! for thou shalt be destroyed this day.
TRYGAEUS. This does not yet concern us over much; 'tis only so much the worse for the Laconians.
WAR. Oh! Megara! Megara! how utterly are you going to be ground up! what fine mincemeat277 are you to be made into!
TRYGAEUS. Alas! alas! what bitter tears there will be among the Megarians!278
WAR. Oh, Sicily! you too must perish! Your wretched towns shall be grated like this cheese.279 Now let us pour some Attic honey280 into the mortar.
TRYGAEUS. Oh! I beseech you! use some other honey; this kind is worth four obols; be careful, oh! be careful of our Attic honey.
WAR. Hi! Tumult, you slave there!
TUMULT. What do you want?
WAR. Out upon you! You stand there with folded arms. Take this cuff o' the head for your pains.
TUMULT. Oh! how it stings! Master, have you got garlic in your fist, I wonder?
WAR. Run and fetch me a pestle.
TUMULT. But we haven't got one; 'twas only yesterday we moved.
WAR. Go and fetch me one from Athens, and hurry, hurry!
TUMULT. Aye, I hasten there; if I return without one, I shall have no cause for laughing. [Exit.
TRYGAEUS. Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are? See the danger that threatens if he returns with the pestle, for War will quietly amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces. Ah! Bacchus! cause this herald of evil to perish on his road!
WAR. Well!
TUMULT (who has returned). Well, what?
WAR. You have brought back nothing?
TUMULT. Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle—the tanner, who ground Greece to powder.281
TRYGAEUS. Oh! Athené, venerable mistress! 'tis well for our city he is dead, and before he could serve us with this hash.
WAR. Then go and seek one at Sparta and have done with it!
TUMULT. Aye, aye, master!
WAR. Be back as quick as ever you can.
TRYGAEUS (to the audience). What is going to happen, friends? 'Tis a critical hour. Ah! if there is some initiate of Samothrace282 among you, 'tis surely the moment to wish this messenger some accident—some sprain or strain.
TUMULT (who returns). Alas! alas! thrice again, alas!
WAR. What is it? Again you come back without it?
TUMULT. The Spartans too have lost their pestle.
WAR. How, varlet?
TUMULT. They had lent it to their allies in Thrace,283 who have lost it for them.
TRYGAEUS. Long life to you, Thracians! My hopes revive, pluck up courage, mortals!
WAR. Take all this stuff away; I am going in to make a pestle for myself.
TRYGAEUS. 'Tis now the time to sing as Datis did, as he masturbated himself at high noon, "Oh pleasure! oh enjoyment! oh delights!" 'Tis now, oh Greeks! the moment when freed of quarrels and fighting, we should rescue sweet Peace and draw her out of this pit, before some other pestle prevents us. Come, labourers, merchants, workmen, artisans, strangers, whether you be domiciled or not, islanders, come here, Greeks of all countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! 'Tis the moment to drain a cup in honour of the Good Genius.
CHORUS. Come hither, all! quick, quick, hasten to the rescue! All peoples of Greece, now is the time or never, for you to help each other. You see yourselves freed from battles and all their horrors of bloodshed. The day, hateful to Lamachus,284 has come. Come then, what must be done? Give your orders, direct us, for I swear to work this day without ceasing, until with the help of our levers and our engines we have drawn back into light the greatest of all goddesses, her to whom the olive is so dear.
TRYGAEUS. Silence! if War should hear your shouts of joy he would bound forth from his retreat in fury.
CHORUS. Such a decree overwhelms us with joy; how different to the edict, which bade us muster with provisions for three days.285
TRYGAEUS. Let us beware lest the cursed Cerberus286 prevent us even from the nethermost hell from delivering the goddess by his furious howling, just as he did when on earth.
CHORUS. Once we have hold of her, none in the world will be able to take her from us. Huzza! huzza!287
TRYGAEUS. You will work my death if you don't subdue your shouts. War will come running out and trample everything beneath his feet.
CHORUS. Well then! Let him confound, let him trample, let him overturn everything! We cannot help giving vent to our joy.
TRYGAEUS. Oh! cruel fate! My friends! in the name of the gods, what possesses you? Your dancing will wreck the success of a fine undertaking.
CHORUS. 'Tis not I who want to dance; 'tis my legs that bound with delight.
TRYGAEUS. Enough, an you love me, cease your gambols.
CHORUS. There! Tis over.
TRYGAEUS. You say so, and nevertheless you go on.
CHORUS. Yet one more figure and 'tis done.
TRYGAEUS. Well, just this one; then you must dance no more.
CHORUS. No, no more dancing, if we can help you.
TRYGAEUS. But look, you are not stopping even now.
CHORUS. By Zeus, I am only throwing up my right leg, that's all.
TRYGAEUS. Come, I grant you that, but pray, annoy me no further.
CHORUS. Ah! the left leg too will have its fling; well, 'tis but its right. I am so happy, so delighted at not having to carry my buckler any more. I sing and I laugh more than if I had cast my old age, as a serpent does its skin.
TRYGAEUS. No, 'tis no time for joy yet, for you are not sure of success. But when you have got the goddess, then rejoice, shout and laugh; thenceforward you will be able to sail or stay at home, to make love or sleep, to attend festivals and processions, to play at cottabos,288 live like true Sybarites and to shout, Io, io!
CHORUS. Ah! God grant we may see the blessed day. I have suffered so much; have so oft slept with Phormio289 on hard beds. You will no longer find me an acid, angry, hard judge as heretofore, but will find me turned indulgent and grown younger by twenty years through happiness. We have been killing ourselves long enough, tiring ourselves out with going to the Lyceum290 and returning laden with spear and buckler.—But what can we do to please you? Come, speak; for 'tis a good Fate, that has named you our leader.
TRYGAEUS. How shall we set about removing these stones?
HERMES. Rash reprobate, what do you propose doing?
TRYGAEUS. Nothing bad, as Cillicon said.291
HERMES. You are undone, you wretch.
TRYGAEUS. Yes, if the lot had to decide my life, for Hermes would know how to turn the chance.292
HERMES. You are lost, you are dead.
TRYGAEUS. On what day?
HERMES. This instant.
TRYGAEUS. But I have not provided myself with flour and cheese yet293 to start for death.
HERMES. You are kneaded and ground already, I tell you.294
TRYGAEUS. Hah! I have not yet tasted that gentle pleasure.
HERMES. Don't you know that Zeus has decreed death for him who is surprised exhuming Peace?
TRYGAEUS. What! must I really and truly die?
HERMES. You must.
TRYGAEUS. Well then, lend me three drachmae to buy a young pig; I wish to have myself initiated before I die.295
HERMES. Oh! Zeus, the Thunderer!296
TRYGAEUS. I adjure you in the name of the gods, master, don't denounce us!
HERMES. I may not, I cannot keep silent.
TRYGAEUS. In the name of the meats which I brought you so good-naturedly.
HERMES. Why, wretched man, Zeus will annihilate me, if I do not shout out at the top of my voice, to inform him what you are plotting.
TRYGAEUS. Oh, no! don't shout, I beg you, dear little Hermes…. And what are you doing, comrades? You stand there as though you were stocks and stones. Wretched men, speak, entreat him at once; otherwise he will be shouting.
CHORUS. Oh! mighty Hermes! don't do it; no, don't do it! If ever you have eaten some young pig, sacrificed by us on your altars, with pleasure, may this offering not be without value in your sight to-day.
TRYGAEUS. Do you not hear them wheedling you, mighty god?
CHORUS. Be not pitiless toward our prayers; permit us to deliver the goddess. Oh! the most human, the most generous of the gods, be favourable toward us, if it be true that you detest the haughty crests and proud brows of Pisander;297 we shall never cease, oh master, offering you sacred victims and solemn prayers.
TRYGAEUS. Have mercy, mercy, let yourself be touched by their words; never was your worship so dear to them as to-day.
HERMES. I' truth, never have you been greater thieves.298
TRYGAEUS. I will reveal a great, a terrible conspiracy against the gods to you.
HERMES. Hah! speak and perchance I shall let myself be softened.
TRYGAEUS. Know then, that the Moon and that infamous Sun are plotting against you, and want to deliver Greece into the hands of the Barbarians.
HERMES. What for?
TRYGAEUS. Because it is to you that we sacrifice, whereas the barbarians worship them; hence they would like to see you destroyed, that they alone might receive the offerings.
HERMES. 'Tis then for this reason that these untrustworthy charioteers have for so long been defrauding us, one of them robbing us of daylight and the other nibbling away at the other's disk.299
TRYGAEUS. Yes, certainly. So therefore, Hermes, my friend, help us with your whole heart to find and deliver the captive and we will celebrate the great Panathenaea300 in your honour as well as all the festivals of the other gods; for Hermes shall be the Mysteries, the Dipolia, the Adonia; everywhere the towns, freed from their miseries, will sacrifice to Hermes, the Liberator; you will be loaded with benefits of every kind, and to start with, I offer you this cup for libations as your first present.
HERMES. Ah! how golden cups do influence me! Come, friends, get to work. To the pit quickly, pick in hand and drag away the stones.
CHORUS. We go, but you, the cleverest of all the gods, supervise our labours; tell us, good workman as you are, what we must do; we shall obey your orders with alacrity.
TRYGAEUS. Quick, reach me your cup, and let us preface our work by addressing prayers to the gods.
HERMES. Oh! sacred, sacred libations! Keep silence, oh! ye people! keep silence!
TRYGAEUS. Let us offer our libations and our prayers, so that this day may begin an era of unalloyed happiness for Greece and that he who has bravely pulled at the rope with us may never resume his buckler.
CHORUS. Aye, may we pass our lives in peace, caressing our mistresses and poking the fire.
TRYGAEUS. May he who would prefer the war, oh Dionysus, be ever drawing barbed arrows out of his elbows.
CHORUS. If there be a citizen, greedy for military rank and honours, who refuses, oh, divine Peace! to restore you to daylight, may he behave as cowardly as Cleonymus on the battlefield.
TRYGAEUS. If a lance-maker or a dealer in shields desires war for the sake of better trade, may he be taken by pirates and eat nothing but barley.
CHORUS. If some ambitious man does not help us, because he wants to become a General, or if a slave is plotting to pass over to the enemy, let his limbs be broken on the wheel, may he be beaten to death with rods! As for us, may Fortune favour us! Io! Paean, Io!
TRYGAEUS. Don't say Paean,301 but simply, Io.
CHORUS. Very well, then! Io! Io! I'll simply say, Io!
TRYGAEUS. To Hermes, the Graces, Hora, Aphrodité, Eros!
CHORUS. And 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!