CALONICÉ. Enough, enough, my dear; now let us all drink in turn to cement
our friendship.
LAMPITO. Hark! what do those cries mean?
LYSISTRATA. 'Tis what I was telling you; the women have just occupied the
Acropolis. So now, Lampito, do you return to Sparta to organize the plot,
while your comrades here remain as hostages. For ourselves, let us away
to join the rest in the citadel, and let us push the bolts well home.
CALONICÉ. But don't you think the men will march up against us?
LYSISTRATA. I laugh at them. Neither threats nor flames shall force our
doors; they shall open only on the conditions I have named.
CALONICÉ. Yes, yes, by the goddess of love! let us keep up our old-time
repute for obstinacy and spite.
CHORUS OF OLD MEN.[412] Go easy, Draces, go easy; why, your shoulder is
all chafed by these plaguey heavy olive stocks. But forward still,
forward, man, as needs must. What unlooked-for things do happen, to be
sure, in a long life! Ah! Strymodorus, who would ever have thought it?
Here we have the women, who used, for our misfortune, to eat our bread
and live in our houses, daring nowadays to lay hands on the holy image of
the goddess, to seize the Acropolis and draw bars and bolts to keep any
from entering! Come, Philurgus man, let's hurry thither; let's lay our
faggots all about the citadel, and on the blazing pile burn with our
hands these vile conspiratresses, one and all--and Lycon's wife,
Lysistrata, first and foremost! Nay, by Demeter, never will I let 'em
laugh at me, whiles I have a breath left in my body. Cleomenes
himself,[413] the first who ever seized our citadel, had to quit it to
his sore dishonour; spite his Lacedaemonian pride, he had to deliver me
up his arms and slink off with a single garment to his back. My word! but
he was filthy and ragged! and what an unkempt beard, to be sure! He had
not had a bath for six long years! Oh! but that was a mighty siege! Our
men were ranged seventeen deep before the gate, and never left their
posts, even to sleep. These women, these enemies of Euripides and all the
gods, shall I do nothing to hinder their inordinate insolence? else let
them tear down my trophies of Marathon. But look ye, to finish our
toilsome climb, we have only this last steep bit left to mount. Verily
'tis no easy job without beasts of burden, and how these logs do bruise
my shoulder! Still let us on, and blow up our fire and see it does not go
out just as we reach our destination. Phew! phew! (_blows the fire_). Oh!
dear! what a dreadful smoke! it bites my eyes like a mad dog. It is
Lemnos[414] fire for sure, or it would never devour my eyelids like this.
Come on, Laches, let's hurry, let's bring succour to the goddess; it's
now or never! Phew! phew! (_blows the fire_). Oh! dear! what a confounded
smoke!--There now, there's our fire all bright and burning, thank the
gods! Now, why not first put down our loads here, then take a
vine-branch, light it at the brazier and hurl it at the gate by way of
battering-ram? If they don't answer our summons by pulling back the
bolts, then we set fire to the woodwork, and the smoke will choke 'em. Ye
gods! what a smoke! Pfaugh! Is there never a Samos general will help me
unload my burden?[415]--Ah! it shall not gall my shoulder any more.
(_Tosses down his wood._) Come, brazier, do your duty, make the embers
flare, that I may kindle a brand; I want to be the first to hurl one. Aid
me, heavenly Victory; let us punish for their insolent audacity the women
who have seized our citadel, and may we raise a trophy of triumph for
success!
CHORUS OF WOMEN.[416] Oh! my dears, methinks I see fire and smoke; can it
be a conflagration? Let us hurry all we can. Fly, fly, Nicodicé, ere
Calycé and Crityllé perish in the fire, or are stifled in the smoke
raised by these accursed old men and their pitiless laws. But, great
gods, can it be I come too late? Rising at dawn, I had the utmost trouble
to fill this vessel at the fountain. Oh! what a crowd there was, and what
a din! What a rattling of water-pots! Servants and slave-girls pushed and
thronged me! However, here I have it full at last; and I am running to
carry the water to my fellow townswomen, whom our foes are plotting to
burn alive. News has been brought us that a company of old, doddering
greybeards, loaded with enormous faggots, as if they wanted to heat a
furnace, have taken the field, vomiting dreadful threats, crying that
they must reduce to ashes these horrible women. Suffer them not, oh!
goddess, but, of thy grace, may I see Athens and Greece cured of their
warlike folly. 'Tis to this end, oh! thou guardian deity of our city,
goddess of the golden crest, that they have seized thy sanctuary. Be
their friend and ally, Athené, and if any man hurl against them lighted
firebrands, aid us to carry water to extinguish them.