to Aphrodite and Love.
HERMES: But not to Ares!
TRYGAEUS: No!
HERMES: Nor to Enyalius?403
TRYGAEUS: No!
HERMES: [to the CHORUS] When I give the signal, all of you,
start hauling—heave on those ropes!
LEADER: Heave-ho!
CHORUS: Heave away!
LEADER: Heave-ho! Heave-ho!
TRYGAEUS: Hey, you fellows there, you aren’t pulling your
weight.
Get on with it! Who d’you think you are—Boeotians?‡
HERMES: Yo-ho! Pull away!
TRYGAEUS: Heave!
LEADER: [to HERMES and TRYGAEUS] You two, too—pitch in!
TRYGAEUS: So I’m not pulling, eh?
Just clinging on, falling down, and straining my guts out!
LEADER: Then why are we getting nowhere?
TRYGAEUS:
Because, Lamachus404 is blocking us.
We can do without his phony battlefront.
And those fellows from Argos are a dead loss, too:
They treat the hardships of others as a joke
And feather their nest from both sides.
HERMES: But the Spartans, mate, are pulling like men.
TRYGAEUS: Yes, but have you noticed,
it’s only the ones who are yoked that are eager to help,405
though their bonds get in the way?
HERMES: And the chaps from Megara aren’t doing much good:
though they’re pulling like pups at the udder.
TRYGAEUS: They’re starved to death, poor things!
LEADER: Fellows, we’re getting nowhere. We must get a grip and heave. Come on, all together—heave-ho!
CHORUS: Heave!
LEADER: Heave away!
CHORUS: Harder still!
LEADER: We’ve budged her a trifle.
TRYGAEUS: It’s quite ridiculous the way
some of you are really yanking
while others are tugging the opposite way.
You fellows from Argos, for instance, I’d say
you deserve spanking.
LEADER: Heave away!
CHORUS: Heave-ho!
LEADER: We’ve got some grumblers on the show.
TRYGAEUS: The peace lovers, at least, are pulling well.
LEADER: Yes, but others are going slow.
HERMES: And as for you Megarians,406
why don’t you just go to hell?
And you Athenians need to cool it.
Stop clinging to the spot you’re pulling from.
Going to law won’t get you anywhere.
If you really want to pull the goddess free,
back up, back towards the sea.407
TRYGAEUS: Come on, fellows, we farmers’ll do it on our own.
HERMES: Things are certainly going better.
TRYGAEUS: Encouraging! Now, everyone, put your backs to it.
HERMES: Look, the farmers are doing it. Else no one.
LEADER: Come on, all together!
HERMES: Yes, we’ve almost pulled it off.
LEADER: Keep it up. It’s not quite enough.
CHORUS: Pull, pull, come on all!
Pull, pull, pull, hell for leather!
Pull, pull, now all together!
HERMES: Up she comes!
[The statue of PEACE heaves into view, together with her two attendants, CORNUCOPIA and FESTIVAL.]
TRYGAEUS: Giver of grapes, My Lady, how shall I address you?
Where find a ten-thousand-bucket word to greet you?
What I have isn’t nearly big enough.
I salute you, too, Cornucopia and Festival:
What a charming countenance you have, dear girl!
[He kisses FESTIVAL.]
Ah, what a fragrance! It wafts contentment to my heart,
Immobilizing war by the perfume of its whiff.
HERMES: Not quite the kind of fart
a soldier’s knapsack imparts.
TRYGAEUS: Enough to make one spit:
the stinking whiff of a stinking man,
the odor of onions and vinegary belches,
while she smells of harvesttime and fun,
of the Dionysia with flutes and tragedies,
the odes of Sophocles, a dish of thrush,
and snippets of Euripides.
HERMES: You’ll regret letting loose such lying twaddle. Peace has no use for Euripides’ wordy babble.
TRYGAEUS: [continuing his list]
As I was saying:
the ivy leaf, the muslin for the wine,408
bleating sheep, the breasts of women
hurrying to the fields, the kitchen maid
in her cups and swaying,
the amphora lying on its side,
and many another blessing.
HERMES: Yes, how all that can bring
the cities happily together,
laughing and chatting with one another.
TRYGAEUS: Even though they’re suffering from black eyes
and have to put dark glasses on.
HERMES: Now take a look at the audience here. Can you recognize what each one follows for a career?
TRYGAEUS: Lord above, I doubt I can?
HERMES: Surely that’s a crest maker tearing at his hair?
TRYGAEUS: Of course! And that one makes pitchforks
and has just puffed out a snort (from you know where)
right at the one who tempers swords.
HERMES: And don’t you see how happy the sickle maker is?
TRYGAEUS: Who’s just made the fuck-you sign with his fingers
at the one who fashions spears.
TRYGAEUS:
Listen all: let the farmers gather up
their farming implements and go home
back to the country when they choose,
free of spear, sword, and lance, because
our whole world now is ripe
with the mellow-fruiting vine of peace.
Let us shout out a paean, a hymn
of thanks, and be off to the fields to do our country chores.
LEADER: O blessed day so longed for by all farmers and people of goodwill! Dear vines, I itch to see you. My heart is full, and I cannot wait, with so many summers gone, to hug the fig trees that I planted when I was young.
TRYGAEUS: [as farm implements are handed around]
Friends, first we must show our gratitude to the goddess
who has set us free from helmet plumes
and Gorgon-blazing shields.409
Then let us hurry to our fields,
buying first a little salted fish for our farms.
[The CHORUS, with an array of farming tools, forms into a compact, purposeful body.]
HERMES: Lord Poseidon, what a body to impress:
compact and neat as cakes at a crowded feast!
TRYGAEUS: Yes, that’s what it takes! How the mattock is superb in action,
and how that pitchfork glistens in the sun!
There is no doubt, not the least,
that they’ll dig a goodly serried row of vines:
I, too, am dying to get back to the countryside
and have my hoe going between the lines.
Remember, men, the former way
Of life we led,
Which the goddess Peace
Made possible for us.
The figs, the myrtle berries, and the new
Raw, sweet wine, the bed
Of violets by the well,
The olive trees
That we adored,
For all
Of these
Raise your voice to Peace
In gratitude.
CHORUS: Welcome, welcome! Well beloved, we’re full of gladness That you’ve come home to us. We were sodden in our longing For you, and out of our mind with yearning To go back to the fields. You were our biggest blessing, most lovable of souls. We who lived on the land, On you alone we leaned. You were our greatest boon In those days of y
ore: Sweet, unasked, and unsurpassed. Therefore the vines and the sapling figs And everything that grows Will welcome you With laughter and applause.
LEADER: But where can the goddess have been, away from us so
long?
Tell us, you deity most benign.
HERMES:410,412 You farmers, bereft of her so long, if you would hear How she disappeared, listen to what I tell. First Phidias411 got into trouble because of her. Then Pericles began to fear that he would share In Phidias’ fall from grace, being well aware Of the way Athenians bite, so lest he also fall Himself, he set the town on fire with a spark Struck from his decree on Megara, and reared The bonfire of war, till the eyes of the Greeks were smeared With tears from the smoke here and everywhere, And when the vineyards caught and the flames began to lick, And the first amphora was punched and began to kick Another, and there was no one to stop it, then The goddess disappeared. Then your subject cities, observing how you snarled And roared at one another, and worrying about the tax They owed you, went to the leading Spartans with cash. But these Spartans were so greedy and so rash They junked the goddess Peace and chose the battlefield. Whatever gain this was to them it was ruin To the farmers. And the fleet sent out to turn The tables gobbled up the figs of blameless men.
TRYGAEUS: This they deserved for chopping down my black
mulberry,413
which I’d planted myself and nursed along.
LEADER: Yes, pal, they deserved it. They stove in
my huge grain bin with a stone.
HERMES: Meanwhile, when the farmers from the countryside Flooded into town here, they never guessed That they like the Spartans were being deprived. And as they sorely missed their raisins and dried figs They betook themselves to the politicians for redress. But the politicians, though they knew full well—the rogues—That these poor people were starving and in need of bread, Simply pitchforked out the goddess while they yelled, Though she appeared from time to time because she loved This land so much. . . . Then they began to go after those Allies who were rich and well endowed and to accuse Them of being pro-Brassidas,414 and like a litter of puppies They pummeled and kneaded the pale and prostrate state, Which was ready to swallow whatever lie it was thrown. And when the allies saw how they were being torn They began to stopper with gold the mouth of those Who were doing it, enriching them, while you Completely failed to see that Hellas was a goner. The ringleader in all this was a tanner.415
TRYGAEUS: Stop, Lord Hermes, stop right there, and let the man Stay down under where he is, for no longer Is the fellow ours. He’s yours.416 So whatever You may choose to say about him—
Bastard that he was while born:
A slimy-mouthing fraud, informer,
An agitating trouble stirrer—
Will be slander of your own.
[turning to PEACE]
Tell me, ma’am, why do you keep mum?
HERMES: She won’t speak in front of this audience here.
She’s still furious with them for the way they treated her.
TRYGAEUS: Then let her just whisper in your ear.
HERMES: [bending towards her] Tell me, dear lady, what you feel about them, you for whom shield bearing is anathema.
[He affects to listen.]
Ah! I’ve got you. . . . So that’s your complaint? . . . I
understand.
Listen, all of you, to her reasons for blaming.
She says that after the Pylos affair417
she came here of her own accord
with a crateful of treaties
and you turned her down in the Assembly three times flat.
TRYGAEUS: A mistake, please forgive us! Our souls were in our
boots.
HERMES: Next point: she’s just asked me
Who her worst enemy here was and who her best friend
doing everything possible to prevent a fight.
TRYGAEUS: Cleonymus, surely, was the most war scared!
HERMES: When it comes to war, what was Cleonymus like?
TRYGAEUS: Absolutely fine, but he had a flaw
and was hardly his father’s son (though this he would
gainsay),
but when it came to battle he threw his shield away.
HERMES: The next question she asks is:
who is the present head of the Speaker’s Stone on Pnyx Hill?
TRYGAEUS: Hyperbolus is in charge there now. . . .
Peace, what’s up? Why are you turning away?
HERMES: She’s turning away from the people
because she’s disgusted with them for electing such a scoundrel.
TRYGAEUS: The fact is we’re not depending on him anymore,
but the people do need protection. They’re quite naked,
so they’re using him as a shirt.
HERMES: She asks how this will benefit the city?
TRYGAEUS: We’ll become more enlightened.
HERMES: How?
TRYGAEUS: Because he happens to be a lamp maker
and whereas we used to grope in the dark
now we’ll be solving our problems by lamplight.
HERMES: Oh brother, wait till you hear what she’s asking now?
TRYGAEUS: Such as?
HERMES: All manner of things,
especially how things have fared since she left.
Sophocles first. How’s he doing?
TRYGAEUS: Pretty well, but there’s something odd going on.
HERMES: And?
TRYGAEUS: Well, Sophocles is turning into Simonides.418
HERMES: Simonides? Really?
TRYGAEUS: Yes, because even though he’s a feeble old man,419
to make a cent he’d go to sea in a sieve.
HERMES: And how about that wisecracker Cratinus?‡
TRYGAEUS: He gave up the ghost when the Spartans invaded.420
HERMES: Died of what?
TRYGAEUS:
Of what? Oh, he just caved in:
couldn’t survive seeing a pitcher of wine smashed.
We’ve suffered so much in this city—you’ve no idea.
That’s why, my Lady Peace,
we’ll never let you go again.
HERMES:
Right, let’s settle matters!
You’re to take Cornucopia here for wife,
set up house with her in the countryside,
and make a lot of grapes.
TRYGAEUS: [reaching out to CORNUCOPIA]
Darling, come here and let me kiss you.
Lord Hermes, after such prolonged abstinence,
you don’t think it would hurt me, do you,
to have a little bit of Cornucopia right now?
HERMES:
Not if you follow it with a draft of peppermint.
But take Festival at once
and present her to the members of the Council,
whose once she was.
TRYGAEUS:
Lucky Council, getting Festival!
What a carnival they’re going to have:
three days of gulping soup, dressed tripe, and tenderloin.
But, dear Hermes, it’s goodbye now—a warm goodbye!
HERMES: And you, too, dear man! Good luck and remember me!
TRYGAEUS: [calling out] Beetle . . . it’s home again! . . . Home!
Get ready to take off!
HERMES: He’s not here, my good fellow.
TRYGAEUS: No? Where’s he gone?
HERMES: “Harnessed to Zeus’s car, carrying thunderbolts.”421
TRYGAEUS: But what’ll the poor creature get to eat up here?
HERMES: Ambrosia . . . from Ganymede422 . . . I daresay.
TRYGAEUS: But how am I getting down to earth?
HERMES: Not to worry! Over here, past the goddess.
TRYGAEUS: [to CORNUCOPIA and FESTIVAL as he follows HERMES] This way, girls. Stick close to me. There’re a lot of randy young men down there as stiff as posts.
[HERMES, TRYGAEUS, CORNUCOPIA, and FESTIVAL go their several ways, wh
ile the CHORUS musters for the Parabasis,423 first of all consigning to attendants the various instruments they used for digging out PEACE.]
CHORUS:
Go and goodbye, while we hand over
to our assistants
These tools to look after. Many a robber
hangs round a theater.
A constant menace, so guard them with care,
while we apprise you
Of the theme of our story and what we are thinking.
But not to surprise you,
Let the ushers berate any poet who brashly
in his parabasis
Touts his own anapests flashily
before the spectators.
Nevertheless, O Zeus’s daughters,424
if homage is right
To one who for ages was and is still
the greatest of all
Comedy writers and the most bright,
then I as producer
Say that this author deserves support.
First of all as the reducer
of those eternal
Jokes by his rivals about shoddy clothing
and hunting of lice.
He was the first to boycott and banish
a Heracles hungry,
Kneading a loaf and being obtuse,
and to abolish
Those silly domestics running away,
then for a laugh
Getting a spanking, and all that puerile
practical joking
Just for the sake of a fellow domestic’s
being able to howl
At his colleague’s mishaps, for instance saying:
“Hey, muttonhead,
What’s wrong with your bottom? Don’t tell me you’ve had
the storm of a whipping
That’s flailed your flanks and flensed your behind?”
By this getting rid
Of hackneyed buffoonery he’s remade our art,
Rearing an edifice out of the ordinary
of verse and original thought,
With uncommon humor. He didn’t get at
the man in the street
Or the poor little woman, but like a Heracles
confronted the fiercest
Freak with the stench of a disease—
hides being steeped—425
And the threats of a manure-slinging man.
That’s why from the start
I grappled with Crooked Teeth,† the man himself,
whose eyeballs ran