Lysistrata | Page 8

you out of any years to come.
WOMEN
Now you just touch Stratyllis with the top-joint of your thumb.
MEN
What vengeance can you take if with my fists your face I beat?
WOMEN
I'll rip you with my teeth and strew your entrails at your feet.
MEN
Now I appreciate Euripides' strange subtlety: Woman is the most shameless beast of all the beasts that be.
WOMEN
Rhodippe, come, and let's pick up our water-jars once more.
MEN
Ah cursed drab, what have you brought this water for?
WOMEN
What is your fire for then, you smelly corpse? Yourself to burn?
MEN
To build a pyre and make your comrades ready for the urn.
WOMEN
And I've the water to put out your fire immediately.
MEN
What, you put out my fire?
WOMEN
Yes, sirrah, as you soon will see.
MEN
I don't know why I hesitate to roast you with this flame.
WOMEN
If you have any soap you'll go off cleaner than you came.
MEN
Cleaner, you dirty slut?
WOMEN
A nuptial-bath in which to lie!
MEN
Did you hear that insolence?
WOMEN
I'm a free woman, I.
MEN
I'll make you hold your tongue.
WOMEN
Henceforth you'll serve in no more juries.
MEN
Burn off her hair for her.
WOMEN
Now forward, water, quench their furies!
MEN
O dear, O dear!
WOMEN
So ... was it hot?
MEN
Hot! ... Enough, O hold.
WOMEN
Watered, perhaps you'll bloom again--why not?
MEN
Brrr, I'm wrinkled up from shivering with cold.
WOMEN
Next time you've fire you'll warm yourself and leave us to our lot.
MAGISTRATE enters with attendant SCYTHIANS.
MAGISTRATE
Have the luxurious rites of the women glittered Their libertine show, their drumming tapped out crowds, The Sabazian Mysteries summoned their mob, Adonis been wept to death on the terraces, As I could hear the last day in the Assembly? For Demostratus--let bad luck befoul him-- Was roaring, "We must sail for Sicily," While a woman, throwing herself about in a dance Lopsided with drink, was shrilling out "Adonis, Woe for Adonis." Then Demostratus shouted, "We must levy hoplites at Zacynthus," And there the woman, up to the ears in wine, Was screaming "Weep for Adonis" on the house-top, The scoundrelly politician, that lunatic ox, Bellowing bad advice through tipsy shrieks: Such are the follies wantoning in them.
MEN
O if you knew their full effronery! All of the insults they've done, besides sousing us With water from their pots to our public disgrace For we stand here wringing our clothes like grown-up infants.
MAGISTRATE
By Poseidon, justly done! For in part with us The blame must lie for dissolute behaviour And for the pampered appetites they learn. Thus grows the seedling lust to blossoming: We go into a shop and say, "Here, goldsmith, You remember the necklace that you wrought my wife; Well, the other night in fervour of a dance Her clasp broke open. Now I'm off for Salamis; If you've the leisure, would you go tonight And stick a bolt-pin into her opened clasp." Another goes to a cobbler; a soldierly fellow, Always standing up erect, and says to him, "Cobbler, a sandal-strap of my wife's pinches her, Hurts her little toe in a place where she's sensitive. Come at noon and see if you can stretch out wider This thing that troubles her, loosen its tightness." And so you view the result. Observe my case-- I, a magistrate, come here to draw Money to buy oar-blades, and what happens? The women slam the door full in my face. But standing still's no use. Bring me a crowbar, And I'll chastise this their impertinence. What do you gape at, wretch, with dazzled eyes? Peering for a tavern, I suppose. Come, force the gates with crowbars, prise them apart! I'll prise away myself too.... (LYSISTRATA _appears._)
LYSISTRATA
Stop this banging. I'm coming of my own accord.... Why bars? It is not bars we need but common sense.
MAGISTRATE
Indeed, you slut! Where is the archer now? Arrest this woman, tie her hands behind.
LYSISTRATA
If he brushes me with a finger, by Artemis, The public menial, he'll be sorry for it.
MAGISTRATE
Are you afraid? Grab her about the middle. Two of you then, lay hands on her and end it.
CALONICE
By Pandrosos I if your hand touches her I'll spread you out and trample on your guts.
MAGISTRATE
My guts! Where is the other archer gone? Bind that minx there who talks so prettily.
MYRRHINE
By Phosphor, if your hand moves out her way You'd better have a surgeon somewhere handy.
MAGISTRATE
You too! Where is that archer? Take that woman. I'll put a stop to these surprise-parties.
STRATYLLIS
By the Tauric Artemis, one inch nearer My fingers, and it's a bald man that'll be yelling.
MAGISTRATE
Tut tut, what's here? Deserted by my archers.... But surely women never can defeat us; Close up your ranks, my Scythians. Forward at them.
LYSISTRATA
By the Goddesses, you'll find that here await you Four companies of most pugnacious women Armed cap-a-pie from the topmost louring curl To the lowest angry dimple.
MAGISTRATE
On, Scythians, bind them.
LYSISTRATA
On, gallant allies of our high design, Vendors of grain-eggs-pulse-and-vegetables, Ye garlic-tavern-keepers of bakeries, Strike, batter, knock, hit, slap, and scratch our foes, Be finely imprudent,