LYSISTRATA
A monologue from the
play by Aristophanes
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Aristophanes: The Eleven Comedies. Trans. Anonymous.
London: The Athenian Society, 1922. |
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CHORUS OF WOMEN: Nay, never play the brave man, else
when you go back home, your own mother won't know you. But, dear
friends and allies, first let us lay our burdens down; then,
citizens all, hear what I have to say. I have useful counsel
to give our city, which deserves it well at my hands for the
brilliant distinctions it has lavished on my girlhood. At seven
years of age, I was bearer of the sacred vessels; at ten, I pounded
barley for the altar of Athené; next, clad in a robe of
yellow silk, I was little bear to Artemis at the Brauronia;
presently, grown a tall, handsome maiden, they put a necklace
of dried figs about my neck, and I was Basket-Bearer. So surely
I am bound to give my best advice to Athens. What matters that
I was born a woman, if I can cure your misfortunes? I pay my
share of tolls and taxes, by giving men to the State. But you,
you miserable greybeards, you contribute nothing to the public
charges; on the contrary, you have wasted the treasure of our
forefathers, as it was called, the treasure amassed in the days
of the PersianWars. You pay nothing at all in return; and into
the bargain you endanger our lives and liberties by your mistakes.
Have you one word to say for yourselves? . . . Ah! don't irritate
me, you there, or I'll lay my slipper across your jaws; and it's
pretty heavy. By the blessed goddesses, if you anger me, I will
let loose the beast of my evil passions, and a very hailstorm
of blows will set you yelling for help. Come, dames, off tunics,
and quick's the word; women must scent the savour of women in
the throes of passion. . . . Now just you dare to measure strength
with me, old greybeard, and I warrant you you'll never eat garlic
or black beans more. No, not a word! My anger is at a boiling
point, and I'll do with you what the beetle did with the eagle's
eggs. I laugh at your threats, so long as I have on my side Lampita
here, and the noble Theban, my dear Ismenia. . . . Pass decree
on decree, you can do us no hurt, you wretch abhorred of all
your fellows. Why, only yesterday, on occasion of the feast of
Hecaté, I asked my neighbors of Bœotia for one of
their daughters for whom my girls have a lively liking--a fine,
fat eel to wit; and if they did not refuse, all along of your
silly decrees! We shall never cease to suffer the like, till
someone gives you a neat trip-up and breaks your neck for you!
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MONOLOGUES BY ARISTOPHANES |
