ALL THE WOMEN. A man!
STRAT. Frantic, torn
By-- (_She points._)
LYS. O bright Cyprian goddess, ocean-born,
How straight a course you steer!
1ST ATHEN. WOMAN. Where, where is he?
STRAT. Yonder by Ceres’ shrine.
(_A great scramble of the_ WOMEN _to look at him_.)
1ST ATHEN. WOMAN. Ah, now I see.
LYS. Knows any who he is?
MYRR. Oh, me! Alas!
It is my husband, my Cinesias!
Oh, my dear love! (Kisses hands toward him.)
CAL. What are you looking at,--
Smacking your lips like that, you little cat?
What right to a husband has she got, I say,
While we must go without?
LYS. Women, away!
(_The_ WOMEN _retire reluctantly_.)
(_To_ MYRR.) This is your business, then. Now to the test!
Go, plant your choicest weapons in his breast:
Love him, yet love him not. Show him the bliss
That beauty offers; but withhold the kiss--
The cup by which you swore.
MYRR. Mistrust me not.
LYS. Go, and make ready! I will have him hot
Ere you return.
(_Exit_ MYRRHINA.)
(_Enter_ CINESIAS, _followed presently by his
servant_ MANES _leading a small child_.)
CIN. Ah, me! What pangs I feel!
O Love, why hast thou racked me on this wheel?
LYS. Halt! Who comes here?
CIN. ’Tis I, a man.
LYS. Then stay!
Man, get you gone!
CIN. Whose bidding to obey?
LYS. A watcher of the shrine.
CIN. Oh, be a friend!
Call forth Myrrhina to me!
LYS. To what end?
CIN. Tell her--oh, tell her, there’s a house on fire!
LYS. Whose house?
CIN. _Her_ house: my house!
LYS. What’s your desire?
CIN. Bid her come quickly!
LYS. Nay, but who art thou?
CIN. Cinesias, her husband!
LYS. Surely, now,
That cannot be!
CIN. Why not? (LYSISTRATA _laughs_.)
Answer me, then!
LYS. Cinesias is the handsomest of men,--
Limbs like Apollo, and a head like Jove,
And eyes whose glances are the fires of love!
CIN. Whence had you that?
LYS. It is Myrrhina’s word.
Full often of Cinesias have we heard--
A different man from you.
CIN. Nay, but I swear
I _am_ Cinesias!
LYS. What! That mop of hair,
That nose, those legs--the cause of all her sighs?
Ye gods! how Love deceives a woman’s eyes!
CIN. But it is I!
LYS. Oh, if it were, no name
Could be more welcome or more known to fame.
For every day we hear his praises sung,
With every meal his name is on her tongue.
Bites she an apple, breaks she an egg--she sighs
“Oh, that Cinesias might share the prize!”
CIN. Ye heavens, can this be true?
LYS. I will be bound
On oath to it! Also when talk goes round
Concerning--men, his wife is fain to swear
There’s none that with Cinesias can compare!
CIN. Oh, call her to me!
LYS. Have you anything
That she may know you by?
CIN. Aye, take this ring!
Once it was hers.
LYS. I will go bid her come.
CIN. Quickly, I pray! For since she fled no crumb
Of comfort have I known:
(_Exit_ LYSISTRATA.)
Robbed of my mate
I find no rest, my house is desolate,
My appetite is lost, and sleep has flown:
Love tortures me because I live alone.
MYRR. (_within_). Love him? Of course I love him. Ah, but he
Cares not, nor wishes to be loved by me.
CIN. My little wife, my life, my peace, come hither!
Come to me, sweet!
(MYRRHINA _enters and crosses the stage averting her face_.)
MYRR. Nay, I may not go thither.
CIN. Come, come, Myrrhina! Oh, come down with speed.
(_She stands with her back to him._)
MYRR. I have an oath. It is not peace you need.
CIN. Not peace I need! Why, I am all undone
For lack of you.