Delphi Complete Works of Aristophanes (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics) Read Free Page A

stones in our hands; let us hunt him from place to place until we trap him; I could never, never tire of the delight of stoning him.
    DICAEOPOLIS. Peace! profane men!
    CHORUS. Silence all! Friends, do you hear the sacred formula? Here is he, whom we seek! This way, all! Get out of his way, surely he comes to offer an oblation.
    DICAEOPOLIS. Peace, profane men! Let the basket-bearer come forward, and thou, Xanthias, hold the phallus well upright.
    WIFE OF DICAEOPOLIS. Daughter, set down the basket and let us begin the sacrifice.
    DAUGHTER OF DICAEOPOLIS. Mother, hand me the ladle, that I may spread the sauce on the cake.
    DICAEOPOLIS. It is well! Oh, mighty Bacchus, it is with joy that, freed from military duty, I and all mine perform this solemn rite and offer thee this sacrifice; grant, that I may keep the rural Dionysia without hindrance and that this truce of thirty years may be propitious for me.
    WIFE OF DICAEOPOLIS. Come, my child, carry the basket gracefully and with a grave, demure face. Happy he, who shall be your possessor and embrace you so firmly at dawn, that you belch wind like a weasel. Go forward, and have a care they don’t snatch your jewels in the crowd.
    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. Forward! Oh, Phales, companion of the orgies of Bacchus, night reveller, god of adultery, friend of young men, these past six 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! How much sweeter, Phales, oh, Phales, is it to surprise Thratta, the pretty wood-maid, 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 will to-morrow consume some good dish in honour of the peace, and I will hang up my buckler over the smoking hearth.
    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.
    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, 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.
    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,