How did you get yourself up here?
Scumpot, scumpottiest scum!
Got a name? Can’t talk?
TRYGAEUS: [answering for the BEETLE] Scumpottiest.
HERMES: Race? Place of origin? Speak up.
TRYGAEUS: Scumpotia Magna.
HERMES: Your father?
TRYGAEUS: You mean mine? Scumpot Senior.
HERMES: Holy Mother Earth! You’re dead meat
if you don’t declare your proper name.
TRYGAEUS: Trygaeus, from the village of Athmonum:
expert vine dresser, and no toady or manic litigant.
HERMES: What brought you here?
TRYGAEUS: To give you a nice steak.
HERMES: [all smiles] Poor sap! How did you get here?
TRYGAEUS: Aha! you greedy thing!
So I’m not the scumpot-of-the-mostest anymore?
Run along and summon Zeus for me.
HERMES: Haw haw haw! You haven’t a hope
of getting anywhere near the deities.
They moved house only yesterday.
TRYGAEUS: Where on earth?
HERMES: Earth.
TRYGAEUS: Yes, but where?
HERMES: Beyond the beyond. On the very edge of heaven.
TRYGAEUS: How come you’ve been left here by yourself?
HERMES: I’m looking after all the gods’ stuff:
pots, pans, bits and pieces, container jars.
TRYGAEUS: But why did the gods leave?
HERMES: Couldn’t stand you Greeks anymore,
so they plonked War here in their place
and have given you over to him to do what he likes with.
Then they’ve set up house
as high as they can get
so’s they won’t have to watch you squabbling
and are out of earshot of your whimperings.
TRYGAEUS: Tell me more, please. Why have they done this to us?
HERMES: Because whenever they tried to get a peace going
you plugged for war.
If the Spartans gained an inch or two,
they’d say: The Twins be praised!388
We’ve got Johnny Attic by the balls.
And if the Athenians got a stroke ahead,
they’d bawl: “Athena! Zeus! This is a trick.
Listen to them? Absolutely not!
Hang on to Pylos and they’ll be back.”389
TRYGAEUS: Yes, you’ve got our current jargon to the T.
HERMES: That’s why I can’t help wondering if you’ll ever see Peace
again.
TRYGAEUS: Why? Where has she gone?
HERMES: War plunged her into the bowels of a cavern.
TRYGAEUS: Where?
HERMES: Just down there. And note the heap of stones
he’s piled against it. You’ll never get near her.
TRYGAEUS: Tell me this:
what’s he preparing to do to us?
HERMES: All I know is that yesterday
he brought home an enormous kneading trough.
TRYGAEUS: And what’s he mean to do with the kneading trough?
HERMES: He’s going to pound the cities in it. . . . I’m off.
Judging by the rumpus he’s making in there,
I’d say he’s on his way here.
TRYGAEUS: O Lord! I’d better run—get out of his way. He’s beating the trough like a martial drum.
[HERMES slips into the house and TRYGAEUS hides behind a pillar as WAR stomps in, complete with kneading trough and basket of vegetables.]
WAR: Fee fie fo fum! Doom-stricken mortals everyone! What a pain in the jaws you’re going to have, and very soon!
TRYGAEUS: [aside] My word, Apollo!
The sheer size of that kneading trough!
And what an ugly face War has!
Is it really the war god we’re running from:
the fearsome one, the tough-as-leather one,
the one that makes the pee run down our pants?
WAR: [tossing leeks into the kneading trough]
Take that, Prasiae:390
three times, five times, ten times
a hashed-up mess today.
TRYGAEUS: [to the audience] That won’t affect us, good friends—it’s Sparta’s problem.
WAR: [throwing in garlic] And you, Megara,
pounded to pulp very soon—
every inch of you and tossed into the gallimaufry.
TRYGAEUS: Lord above! What spicy tears
he’s mixing in with the Megarians!
WAR: [with the cheese grater] And you, unhappy Sicily,
you, too, are going to be grated to nothing.
TRYGAEUS: A shame to see such a glorious place chewed up!
WAR: [with a jar of honey] Now we’ll pour some Attic honey in.
TRYGAEUS: Hold on! Use some other honey.
Go steady with the Attic. It costs four obols.
WAR: [shouting] Brat! Brat! Riot!
RIOT: [immediately appearing] You called me?
WAR: What d’yer mean, loafing around? Take a knuckle. [punches him]
RIOT: Ouch, master! That one stung.
TRYGAEUS: [aside] Methinks there was some garlic in that punch.
WAR: Get me a pestle on the double.
RIOT: But, sir, we don’t ’ave one. We only moved in yesterday.
WAR: I suggest you run to Athens—tout de suite—and get one.
RIOT: Sure will—otherwise I’ll catch it.
[RIOT runs off.]
WAR: Come back quickly now.
TRYGAEUS: [to the audience]
Well then, my poor fellow mortals,
what do we do now . . . ? You see the pickle we’re in?
If Riot turns up with that pestle
War’s going to sit himself down
and make a right squashy mess of these cities.
Please, Dionysus,391 let him die on the way,
stop him coming back with it.
[RIOT returns.]
RIOT: It’s me.
WAR: Well, don’t you have it?
RIOT: The trouble is, sir,
the Athenians ’ave lost their pestle—
that leather-selling jerk who used to mash up Hellas.392
TRYGAEUS: Thank God he’s lost, Lady Athena Mistress,
or he’d have made mincemeat of our city.
WAR: [to RIOT] Then why don’t you go to Sparta? And hurry.
RIOT: Righty-o, sir! [RIOT leaves.]
WAR: Be back soon.
TRYGAEUS: [to the audience]
Friends, what’ll happen to us? This is the crisis.
If by chance any of you out there
received your first communion at Samothrace,‡
now’s the time to pray that the pestle fetcher
sprains both ankles.
[RIOT returns.]
RIOT: Sod all, zilch, perishing sod!
WAR: What? Don’t tell me you haven’t got it?
RIOT: I ’aven’t, cuz the bloomin’ Spartans
’ave gone an’ lost their pestle, too.
WAR: What d’yer mean, you right berk?
RIOT: Them ’as loaned it to those fellas at the Thracian front
what ’ave gone an’ lost it.
TRYGAEUS: [aside] Bravo! Well done, Twins!
Cheer up, mortals! Things’ll turn out all right.
WAR: [to RIOT, indicating the kitchen utensils]
Take this stuff inside.
I’m going to make a pestle myself.
[WAR leaves, followed by RIOT. TRYGAEUS emerges from behind the pillar.]
TRYGAEUS: So that’s that at last!
Now for the song that Datis393 sang
while jerking off of an afternoon:
“O ecstasy! What a thrill! I’m happy!”
Now is a good time, you men of Greece,
to rid ourselves of pain and strife
by unearthing Peace, beloved by all,
before some other pestle stymies us.
; You farmers, merchants, artisans, and craftsmen,
you visitors and aliens and people from the islands,
come all of you as quickly as you can
with spades and crowbars and ropes.
Now is our chance to undelve
the Spirit of Amity.
[The CHORUS of farmers enters carrying shovels, crowbars, and ropes.]
CHORUS: Come hither, everyone, happily come here from all over Hellas.
Come to be saved, come to be helpers,
as never before.
Away with parades and drillers in scarlet.
Today let there shine
The down-with-the-war day. So tell us, Trygaeus,
what needs to be done.
Be our director. We can’t think it’s over
till into the daylight
With crowbars and levers we’ve hoisted the greatest
goddess of all,
And the greatest friend of the vine.
TRYGAEUS:
Keep down your voices, curb your rejoicing.
You’ll fire up War in there if you go on shouting.
CHORUS:
Yes, but this is the kind of announcement
it’s thrilling to hear.
Not like “Report for duty with three days’ rations.”
TRYGAEUS:
Take care that Cerberus394 down in there
doesn’t begin
To froth at the mouth and bark his head off
as he did up here,
And so forestall our being able to bring
the goddess upstairs.
CHORUS:
Once in our arms no one shall snatch her,
so cheers! Cheers!
TRYGAEUS:
Fellows, you’ll finish me if you don’t stop shouting.
He’ll come out charging
Trampling everything underfoot.
[The CHORUS begins to dance wildly.]
CHORUS:
Let him come charging, let him come trampling;
today of all days
We’re not going to stop.
TRYGAEUS:
Drat it, you airheads, what’s come over you?
For the gods’ sakes, stop it!
You’re going to wreck the chance of a lifetime
just to go dancing.
CHORUS:
We’re not the ones that go on dancing:
We’re not moving
Our legs at all. They’re doing it on their own
just for joy.
TRYGAEUS:
Well, stop it. Please stop it at once:
I’m telling you.
CHORUS: Look, lo and behold, we’ve stopped!
TRYGAEUS: So you say, but stopped you have not.
CHORUS: One last little twirl of my right leg
in honor of Zeus.
TRYGAEUS: All right, have that one on me. Then stop being a menace.
CHORUS:
All very well, but my left leg, too,
won’t give up.
I’m frisky and glad, I fart and I laugh,
I’m finished with shields,
And I feel as young as they come.
TRYGAEUS:
I’d rather you didn’t rejoice just yet.
You never can tell.
Wait till we’ve dug her out from there.
Then you can yell
All you want and laugh and cheer,
for then at last
You’re free to roam or stay at home,
Fuck or sleep, go out on the town,
Dicing, feasting, swigging wine,
And yelling some.
CHORUS:
I hope I’ll have the chance of seeing that blessed day
For I’ve put up with much:
Many a lumpy pallet
issued by Phormio. . . .395
But peevish and judgmental I’ll not be anymore,
Or anything like as difficult as I was before.
What you’ll see is a gentler me,
Considerably younger, too
With the burden off my back.
Far too long we’ve been
Wearing ourselves to nothing:
Traipsing back and forth
To the Lyceum396 and from the Lyceum with spear and shield.
So whatever we can do
To please you, come and tell us.
For fate has kindly chosen
You to be our boss.
TRYGAEUS: Right then, let’s get down to clearing away these
stones.
[HERMES appears.]
HERMES: Shove off, you pushy nerd. What d’yer think yer up to?
TRYGAEUS: Nothing bad. Harmless as Cillicon.397
HERMES: Yer as good as dead.
TRYGAEUS: Timed for when?
HERMES: Right now.
TRYGAEUS: But I haven’t got my last meal ready—bread and cheese.
HERMES: Yer finished.
TRYGAEUS: Funny, I never realized I was so lucky!
HERMES: Well, realize this: Zeus has ordered death
for anyone unearthing her.
TRYGAEUS: So it’s settled then? I die this minute?
HERMES: Right on!
TRYGAEUS: I suppose you couldn’t lend me three drachmas
for a wee piggy?
I need to get initiated before I die.398
HERMES: [calling up to heaven] Hey, Zeus, thunderbox!
TRYGAEUS: For the gods’ sakes, me lord, don’t give us away.
HERMES: I won’t keep mum.
TRYGAEUS: Oh do! Remember that steak I hurried here to give you?
HERMES: I know, mate, but Zeus’ll chew me up
if I don’t bawl and blast all about it.
TRYGAEUS: No blasting, please, sweet Hermikins.
[to the CHORUS]
What’s the matter with you dumb clucks?
If it’s lockjaw he’ll start blasting.
LEADER:
Never that, Lord Hermes, never, never!
Remember the piglet you got from me
Which you so enjoyed.
Don’t dismiss the memory of it now.
TRYGAEUS: Hark at the way he fawns on you, my lord!
CHORUS: Don’t be deaf to our pleas
And stop us unearthing her.
Be gracious to us, do,
Most generous of deities.
And if you’re fed to the teeth with Pisander’s399 obsessions,
You can count on us, my Lord,
To always worship you
With godly sacrifices
And grand processions.
TRYGAEUS: I beg you to be clement and hear their plea. They reverence you more than ever before.
HERMES: Of course! They’re bigger crooks than ever before.
TRYGAEUS: Let me divulge a piece of momentous news:
a plot’s being hatched against the gods—the lot.
HERMES: Speak on. I’m open to conviction.
TRYGAEUS: It’s this: the Moon and that despicable Sun
have been scheming against you for some time.
They plan to hand over Hellas to the Barbarians.
HERMES: What good will that do them?
TRYGAEUS: Just this, by Zeus! We sacrifice to you, but those Barbarians to them; So naturally they want to wipe us out. Then they can collar the rights to all the rites of all the other deities.
HERMES: So that’s why they’ve been chipping off days
and nibbling bits off the calendar—sheer robbery!
TRYGAEUS: Right on, my dear Hermes!
So give us a hand in digging her up.
And then, Hermes, to you we’ll dedicate the Great
Panathenaea,
and all the other divine rites:
the Mysteries of Demeter, the feasts of Zeus and of Adonis,
all for Hermes.
And when the rest of the cities get free of their troubles,
they’ll celebrate you everywhere:
Hermes the Troubleshooter.
&nbs
p; And you’ll get other benefits as well.
Here to start with is a gift from me
to use for your libations.
[TRYGAEUS hands him a gold cup.]
HERMES: Oh brother! Anything with a bit of gold in it
makes me go all soft.
TRYGAEUS: [to the CHORUS] So, fellows, now it’s up to you. Get going with your spades in there and clear away the stones as quick as you can.
LEADER: You’ve got it! And you, smartest of the gods, must direct us in the State of the Arts. You won’t find us backwards in getting things done.
TRYGAEUS: [to HERMES]
On with it then. Hold out the punch bowl.
Let’s pinhole the gods and get the job done.
[The bowl is brought out and wine liberally poured into it. HERMES lifts it ceremoniously.]
HERMES:
A toast! A toast!
Good wishes all around!
May this day be the harbinger
Of better things for Greece.
And may every man
Who throws his weight upon the ropes
Never lift a shield again.
TRYGAEUS: I’ll say not, by God!
May he pass his life in peace,
with a girl in his arms,
stoking her and making her coals red-hot.
HERMES: And anyone who’d like a war instead . . .
TRYGAEUS: Let him, Lord Dionysus, never stop
pulling the barbs out of his arms.400
HERMES: And if anyone angling for a military commission
is against you coming to light, my Lady Peace,
Let him in his battles . . .
TRYGAEUS: Turn tail just like Cleonymus.401
HERMES: And if any weapon maker or arms dealer
wants war for the sake of business . . .
TRYGAEUS: Let the terrorists get him, and barley be his dinner.
HERMES: And if anyone won’t help because he wants to be a
general,
or if a slave is preparing to skedaddle . . .
TRYGAEUS: Let him be stretched on the wheel and whipped.
HERMES: And let us be showered with blessings
and strike up a paean402—Yahoo! Yahoo!
TRYGAEUS: Less of the striking! Yahoo will do.
HERMES: Yahoo! Yahoo! Yahoo will do!
TRYGAEUS: [raising his cup] Here’s to Hermes, the Graces, the Seasons,