(_The_ WOMEN _are discovered seated upon the steps leading
to the Acropolis. Some have pitchers beside them, others
plait and spin, one plays upon the lyre._)
CHORUS (_singing_). Pallas Athene, hear!
Bend from thy throne,
And make with lifted spear our cause thine own.
(_Enter_ LEADER OF CHORUS.)
1ST LEADER OF WOMEN. O women, turn back from your labours,
And leave in their niche by the wall
Your pitchers, and hark to the call
Of friends in their need, and of neighbours
Who beg for a boon.
(_Here, and at intervals throughout the speech, shouting
of men is heard at a distance; occasionally the words
“Down with the women, down!” “Down with Lysistrata!”
are heard._)
For surely ye tire not with dances,
Nor faint as ye foot to the tune
Of minstrels: so now in the chances
Of war let your speed be as then,
And as daring your deed as the glances
Ye cast upon men!
(_The_ WOMEN _are laying by their pitchers, filleting their
hair and girding their robes. From the Acropolis come other
women bearing shields, spears, and helmets, which they
distribute as the_ CHORUS _continues_.)
For here is a Cause to your hand
More holy than any before:
And in it lies beauty, and wisdom,
And courage, and love of your land.
Nay, surely the mothers who bore you,
The silent mothers of yore,
They also were made of this metal,
And out of the bed of the nettle,
Wherein they bred you of old,
They, too, who spake not a word,
They, too, brave hearts, could have told
Their tale of the wrongs unheard.
So forward I bid you, nor fail,
Nor yield what ye hold in your hand:
For this wind which now blows in your sail
Shall bear you to land!