POSIDON. Then you don't want peace. Let us withdraw.
PISTHETAERUS. It matters mighty little to me. Cook, look to the gravy.
HERACLES. What an odd fellow this Posidon is! Where are you off to? Are we going to war about a woman?
POSIDON. What else is there to do?
HERACLES. What else? Why, conclude peace.
POSIDON. Oh! the ninny! do you always want to be fooled? Why, you are seeking your own downfall. If Zeus were to die, after having yielded them the sovereignty, you would be ruined, for you are the heir of all the wealth he will leave behind.
PISTHETAERUS. Oh! by the gods! how he is cajoling you. Step aside, that I may have a word with you. Your uncle is getting the better of you, my poor friend.370 The law will not allow you an obolus of the paternal property, for you are a bastard and not a legitimate child.
HERACLES. I a bastard! What's that you tell me?
PISTHETAERUS. Why, certainly; are you not born of a stranger woman?371 Besides, is not Athené recognized as Zeus' sole heiress? And no daughter would be that, if she had a legitimate brother.
HERACLES. But what if my father wished to give me his property on his death-bed, even though I be a bastard?
PISTHETAERUS. The law forbids it, and this same Posidon would be the first to lay claim to his wealth, in virtue of being his legitimate brother. Listen; thus runs Solon's law: "A bastard shall not inherit, if there are legitimate children; and if there are no legitimate children, the property shall pass to the nearest kin."
HERACLES. And I get nothing whatever of the paternal property?
PISTHETAERUS. Absolutely nothing. But tell me, has your father had you entered on the registers of his phratria?372
HERACLES. No, and I have long been surprised at the omission.
PISTHETAERUS. What ails you, that you should shake your fist at heaven? Do you want to fight it? Why, be on my side, I will make you a king and will feed you on bird's milk and honey.
HERACLES. Your further condition seems fair to me. I cede you the young damsel.
POSIDON. But I, I vote against this opinion.
PISTHETAERUS. Then all depends on the Triballian. (To the Triballian.)
What do you say?
TRIBALLUS. Big bird give daughter pretty and queen.
HERACLES. You say that you give her?
POSIDON. Why no, he does not say anything of the sort, that he gives her; else I cannot understand any better than the swallows.
PISTHETAERUS. Exactly so. Does he not say she must be given to the swallows?
POSIDON. Very well! you two arrange the matter; make peace, since you wish it so; I'll hold my tongue.
HERACLES. We are of a mind to grant you all that you ask. But come up there with us to receive Basileia and the celestial bounty.
PISTHETAERUS. Here are birds already cut up, and very suitable for a nuptial feast.
HERACLES. You go and, if you like, I will stay here to roast them.
PISTHETAERUS. You to roast them! you are too much the glutton; come along with us.
HERACLES. Ah! how well I would have treated myself!
PISTHETAERUS. Let some bring me a beautiful and magnificent tunic for the wedding.
CHORUS.373 At Phanae,374 near the Clepsydra,375 there dwells a people who have neither faith nor law, the Englottogastors,376 who reap, sow, pluck the vines and the figs377 with their tongues; they belong to a barbaric race, and among them the Philippi and the Gorgiases378 are to be found; 'tis these Englottogastorian Phillippi who introduced the custom all over Attica of cutting out the tongue separately at sacrifices.379
A MESSENGER. Oh, you, whose unbounded happiness I cannot express in words, thrice happy race of airy birds, receive your king in your fortunate dwellings. More brilliant than the brightest star that illumes the earth, he is approaching his glittering golden palace; the sun itself does not shine with more dazzling glory. He is entering with his bride at his side380 whose beauty no human tongue can express; in his hand he brandishes the lightning, the winged shaft of Zeus; perfumes of unspeakable sweetness pervade the ethereal realms. 'Tis a glorious spectacle to see the clouds of incense wafting in light whirlwinds before the breath of the Zephyr! But here he is himself. Divine Muse! let thy sacred lips begin with songs of happy omen.
CHORUS. Fall back! to the right! to the left! advance!381 Fly around this happy mortal, whom Fortune loads with her blessings. Oh! oh! what grace! what beauty! Oh, marriage so auspicious for our city! All honour to this man! 'tis through him that the birds are called to such glorious destinies. Let your nuptial hymns, your nuptial songs, greet him and his Basileia! 'Twas in the midst of such festivities that the Fates formerly united Olympian Here to the King who governs the gods from the summit of his inaccessible throne. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus! Rosy Eros with the golden wings held the reins and guided the chariot; 'twas he, who presided over the union of Zeus and the fortunate Heré. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!
PISTHETAERUS. I am delighted with your songs, I applaud your verses. Now celebrate the thunder that shakes the earth, the flaming lightning of Zeus and the terrible flashing thunderbolt.
CHORUS. Oh, thou golden flash of the lightning! oh, ye divine shafts of flame, that Zeus has hitherto shot forth! Oh, ye rolling thunders, that bring down the rain! 'Tis by the order of our king that ye shall now stagger the earth! Oh, Hymen! 'tis through thee that he commands the universe and that he makes Basileia, whom he has robbed from Zeus, take her seat at his side. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus!
PISTHETAERUS. Let all the winged tribes of our fellow-citizens follow the bridal couple to the palace of Zeus382 and to the nuptial couch! Stretch forth your hands, my dear wife! Take hold of me by my wings and let us dance; I am going to lift you up and carry you through the air.
CHORUS. Oh, joy! Io Paean! Tralala! victory is thine, oh, thou greatest of the gods!
* * * * *
FINIS OF "THE BIRDS"
* * * * *
THE FROGS
INTRODUCTION
Like 'The Birds' this play rather avoids politics than otherwise, its leading motif, over and above the pure fun and farce for their own sake of the burlesque descent into the infernal regions, being a literary one, an onslaught on Euripides the Tragedian and all his works and ways.
It was produced in the year 405 B.C., the year after 'The Birds,' and only one year before the Peloponnesian War ended disastrously for the Athenian cause in the capture of the city by Lysander. First brought out at the Lenaean festival in January, it was played a second time at the Dionysia in March of the same year—a far from common honour. The drama was not staged in the Author's own name, we do not know for what reasons, but it won the first prize, Phrynichus' 'Muses' being second.
The plot is as follows. The God Dionysus, patron of the Drama, is dissatisfied with the condition of the Art of Tragedy at Athens, and resolves to descend to Hades in order to bring back again to earth one of the old tragedians—Euripides, he thinks, for choice. Dressing himself up, lion's skin and club complete, as Heracles, who has performed the same perilous journey before, and accompanied by his slave Xanthias (a sort of classical Sancho Panza) with the baggage, he starts on the fearful expedition.
Coming to the shores of Acheron, he is ferried over in Charon's boat—Xanthias has to walk round—the First Chorus of Marsh Frogs (from which the play takes its title) greeting him with prolonged croakings. Approaching Pluto's Palace in fear and trembling, he knocks timidly at the gate. Being presently admitted, he finds a contest on the point of being held before the King of Hades and the Initiates of the Eleusinian Mysteries, who form the Second Chorus, between Aeschylus, the present occupant of the throne of tragic excellence in hell, and the pushing, self-satisfied, upstart Euripides, who is for ousting him from his pride of place.
Each poet quotes in turn from his Dramas, and the indignant Aeschylus makes fine fun of his rival's verses, and shows him up in the usual Aristophanic style as a corrupter of morals, a contemptible casuist, and a professor of the dangerous new learning of the Sophists, so justly held in suspicion by true-blue Athenian Conservatives. Eventually a pair of scales is brought in, and verses alternately spouted by the two candidates are weighed against each other, the mighty lines of the Father of Tragedy making his flippant, finickin little rival's scale kick the beam every time.
Dionysus becomes a convert to the superior merits of the old school of tragedy, and contemptuously dismisses Euripides, to take Aeschylus back with him to the upper world instead, leaving Sophocles meantime in occupation of the coveted throne of tragedy in the nether regions.
Needless to say, the various scenes of the journey to Hades, the crossing of Acheron, the Frogs' choric songs, and the trial before Pluto, afford opportunities for much excellent fooling in our Author's very finest vein of drollery, and "seem to have supplied the original idea for those modern burlesques upon the Olympian and Tartarian deities which were at one time so popular."
* * * * *
THE FROGS
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
DIONYSUS.
XANTHIAS, his Servant.
HERACLES.
A DEAD MAN.
CHARON.
AEACUS.
FEMALE ATTENDANT OF PERSEPHONÉ.
INKEEPERS' WIVES.
EURIPIDES.
AESCHYLUS.
PLUTO.
CHORUS OF FROGS.
CHORUS OF INITIATES.
SCENE: In front of the temple of Heracles, and on the banks of Acheron in the Infernal Regions.
* * * * *
THE FROGS
XANTHIAS. Now am I to make one of those jokes that have the knack of always making the spectators laugh?
DIONYSUS. Aye, certainly, any one you like, excepting "I am worn out."
Take care you don't say that, for it gets on my nerves.
XANTHIAS. Do you want some other drollery?
DIONYSUS. Yes, only not, "I am quite broken up."
XANTHIAS. Then what witty thing shall I say?
DIONYSUS. Come, take courage; only …
XANTHIAS. Only what?
DIONYSUS. … don't start saying as you shift your package from shoulder to shoulder, "Ah! that's a relief!"
XANTHIAS. May I not at least say, that unless I am relieved of this cursed load I shall let wind?
DIONYSUS. Oh! for pity's sake, no! you don't want to make me spew.
XANTHIAS. What need then had I to take this luggage, if I must not copy the porters that Phrynichus, Lycis and Amipsias383 never fail to put on the stage?
DIONYSUS. Do nothing of the kind. Whenever I chance to see one of these stage tricks, I always leave the theatre feeling a good year older.
XANTHIAS. Oh! my poor back! you are broken and I am not allowed to make a single joke.
DIONYSUS. Just mark the insolence of this Sybarite! I, Dionysus, the son of a … wine-jar,384 I walk, I tire myself, and I set yonder rascal upon an ass, that he may not have the burden of carrying his load.
XANTHIAS. But am I not carrying it?
DIONYSUS. No, since you are on your beast.
XANTHIAS. Nevertheless I am carrying this….
DIONYSUS. What?
XANTHIAS. … and it is very heavy.
DIONYSUS. But this burden you carry is borne by the ass.
XANTHIAS. What I have here, 'tis certainly I who bear it, and not the ass, no, by all the gods, most certainly not!
DIONYSUS. How can you claim to be carrying it, when you are carried?
XANTHIAS. That I can't say; but this shoulder is broken, anyhow.
DIONYSUS. Well then, since you say that the ass is no good to you, pick her up in your turn and carry her.
XANTHIAS. What a pity I did not fight at sea;385 I would baste your ribs for that joke.
DIONYSUS. Dismount, you clown! Here is a door,386 at which I want to make my first stop. Hi! slave! hi! hi! slave!
HERACLES (from inside the Temple). Do you want to beat in the door? He knocks like a Centaur.387 Why, what's the matter?
DIONYSUS. Xanthias!
XANTHIAS. Well?
DIONYSUS. Did you notice?
XANTHIAS. What?
DIONYSUS. How I frightened him?
XANTHIAS. Bah! you're mad!
HERACLES. Ho, by Demeter! I cannot help laughing; it's no use biting my lips, I must laugh.
DIONYSUS. Come out, friend; I have need of you.
HERACLES. Oh! 'tis enough to make a fellow hold his sides to see this lion's-skin over a saffron robe!388 What does this mean? Buskins389 and a bludgeon! What connection have they? Where are you off to in this rig?
DIONYSUS. When I went aboard Clisthenes390….
HERACLES. Did you fight?
DIONYSUS. We sank twelve or thirteen ships of the enemy.
HERACLES. You?
DIONYSUS. Aye, by Apollo!
HERACLES. You have dreamt it.391
DIONYSUS. As I was reading the 'Andromeda'392 on the ship, I suddenly felt my heart afire with a wish so violent….
HERACLES. A wish! of what nature?
DIONYSUS. Oh, quite small, like Molon.393
HERACLES. You wished for a woman?
DIONYSUS. No.
HERACLES. A young boy, then?
DIONYSUS. Nothing of the kind.
HERACLES. A man?
DIONYSUS. Faugh!
HERACLES. Might you then have had dealings with Clisthenes?
DIONYSUS. Have mercy, brother; no mockery! I am quite ill, so greatly does my desire torment me!
HERACLES. And what desire is it, little brother?
DIONYSUS. I cannot disclose it, but I will convey it to you by hints.
Have you ever been suddenly seized with a desire for pea-soup?
HERACLES. For pea-soup! oh! oh! yes, a thousand times in my life.394
DIONYSUS. Do you take me or shall I explain myself in some other way?
HERACLES. Oh! as far as the pea-soup is concerned, I understand marvellously well.
DIONYSUS. So great is the desire, which devours me, for Euripides.
HERACLES. But he is dead.395
DIONYSUS. There is no human power can prevent my going to him.
HERACLES. To the bottom of Hades?
DIONYSUS. Aye, and further than the bottom, an it need.
HERACLES. And what do you want with him?
DIONYSUS. I want a master poet; "some are dead and gone, and others are good for nothing."396
HERACLES. Is Iophon397 dead then?
DIONYSUS. He is the only good one left me, and even of him I don't know quite what to think.
HERACLES. Then there's Sophocles, who is greater than Euripides; if you must absolutely bring someone back from Hades, why not make him live again?
DIONYSUS. No, not until I have taken Iophon by himself and tested him for what he is worth. Besides, Euripides is very artful and won't leave a stone unturned to get away with me, whereas Sophocles is as easy-going with Pluto as he was when on earth.
HERACLES. And Agathon? Where is he?398
DIONYSUS. He has left me; 'twas a good poet and his friends regret him.
HERACLES. And whither has the poor fellow gone?
DIONYSUS. To the banquet of the blest.
HERACLES. And Xenocles?399
DIONYSUS. May the plague seize him!
HERACLES. And Pythangelus?400
XANTHIAS. They don't say ever a word of poor me, whose shoulder is quite shattered.
HERACLES. Is there not a crowd of other little lads, who produce tragedies by the thousand and are a thousand times more loquacious than Euripides?
DIONYSUS. They are little sapless twigs, chatterboxes, who twitter like the swallows, destroyers of the art, whose aptitude is withered with a single piece and who sputter forth all their talent to the tragic Muse at their first attempt. But look where you will, you will not find a creative poet who gives vent to a noble thought.
HERACLES. How creative?
DIONYSUS. Aye, creative, who dares to risk "the ethereal dwellings of Zeus," or "the wing of Time," or "a heart that is above swearing by the sacred emblems," and "a tongue that takes an oath, while yet the soul is unpledged."401
HERACLES. Is that the kind of thing that pleases you?
DIONYSUS. I'm more than madly fond of it.
HERACLES. But such things are simply idiotic, you feel it yourself.
DIONYSUS. "Don't come trespassing on my mind; you have a brain of your own to keep thoughts in."402
HERACLES. But nothing could be more detestable.
DIONYSUS. Where cookery is concerned, you can be my master.403
XANTHIAS. They don't say a thing about me!
DIONYSUS. If I have decked myself out according to your pattern, 'tis that you may tell me, in case I should need them, all about the hosts who received you, when you journeyed to Cerberus; tell me of them as well as of the harbours, the bakeries, the brothels, the drinking-shops, the fountains, the roads, the eating-houses and of the hostels where there are the fewest bugs.
XANTHIAS. They never speak of me.404
HERACLES. Go down to hell? Will you be ready to dare that, you madman?
DIONYSUS. Enough of that; but tell me the shortest road, that is neither too hot nor too cold, to get down to Pluto.
HERACLES. Let me see, what is the best road to show you? Aye, which? Ah! there's the road of the gibbet and the rope. Go and hang yourself.
DIONYSUS. Be silent! your road is choking me.
HERACLES. There is another path, both very short and well-trodden; the one that goes through the mortar.405
DIONYSUS. 'Tis hemlock you mean to say.
HERACLES. Precisely so.
DIONYSUS. That road is both cold and icy. Your legs get frozen at once.406
HERACLES. Do you want me to tell you a very steep road, one that descends very quickly?
DIONYSUS. Ah! with all my heart; I don't like long walks.
HERACLES. Go to the Ceramicus.407
DIONYSUS. And then?
HERACLES. Mount to the top of the highest tower …
DIONYSUS. To do what?
HERACLES. … and there keep your eye on the torch, which is to be the signal. When the spectators demand it to be flung, fling yourself …
DIONYSUS. Where?
HERACLES. … down.
DIONYSUS. But I should break the two hemispheres of my brain. Thanks for your road, but I don't want it.
HERACLES. But which one then?
DIONYSUS. The one you once travelled yourself.
HERACLES. Ah! that's a long journey. First you will reach the edge of the vast, deep mere of Acheron.
DIONYSUS. And how is that to be crossed?
HERACLES. There is an ancient ferryman, Charon by name, who will pass you over in his little boat for a diobolus.
DIONYSUS. Oh! what might the diobolus has everywhere! But however has it got as far as that?
HERACLES. 'Twas Theseus who introduced its vogue.408 After that you will see snakes and all sorts of fearful monsters …
DIONYSUS. Oh! don't try to frighten me and make me afraid, for I am quite decided.
HERACLES. … then a great slough with an eternal stench, a veritable cesspool, into which those are plunged who have wronged a guest, cheated a young boy out of the fee for his complaisance, beaten their mother, boxed their father's ears, taken a false oath or transcribed some tirade of Morsimus.409
DIONYSUS. For mercy's sake, add likewise—or learnt the Pyrrhic dance of Cinesias.410
HERACLES. Further on 'twill be a gentle concert of flutes on every side, a brilliant light, just as there is here, myrtle groves, bands of happy men and women and noisy plaudits.
DIONYSUS. Who are these happy folk?
HERACLES. The initiate.411
XANTHIAS. And I am the ass that carries the Mysteries;412 but I've had enough of it.
HERACLES. They will give you all the information you will need, for they live close to Pluto's palace, indeed on the road that leads to it.
Farewell, brother, and an agreeable journey to you. (He returns into his Temple.)
DIONYSUS. And you, good health. Slave! take up your load again.
XANTHIAS. Before having laid it down?
DIONYSUS. And be quick about it too.
XANTHIAS. Oh, no, I adjure you! Rather hire one of the dead, who is going to Hades.
DIONYSUS. And should I not find one….
XANTHIAS. Then you can take me.
DIONYSUS. You talk sense. Ah! here they are just bringing a dead man along. Hi! man, 'tis you I'm addressing, you, dead fellow there! Will you carry a package to Pluto for me?
DEAD MAN. Is't very heavy?
DIONYSUS. This. (He shows him the baggage, which Xanthias has laid on the ground.)
DEAD MAN. You will pay me two drachmae.
DIONYSUS. Oh! that's too dear.
DEAD MAN. Well then, bearers, move on.
DIONYSUS. Stay, friend, so that I may bargain with you.
DEAD MAN. Give me two drachmae, or it's no deal.
DIONYSUS. Hold! here are nine obols.
DEAD MAN. I would sooner go back to earth again.
XANTHIAS. Is that cursed rascal putting on airs? Come, then, I'll go.
DIONYSUS. You're a good and noble fellow. Let us make the best of our way to the boat.
CHARON. Ahoy, ahoy! put ashore.
XANTHIAS. What's that?
DIONYSUS. Why, by Zeus, 'tis the mere of which Heracles spoke, and I see the boat.
XANTHIAS. Ah! there's Charon.
DIONYSUS. Hail! Charon.
DEAD MAN. Hail! Charon.
CHARON. Who comes hither from the home of cares and misfortunes to rest on the banks of Lethé? Who comes to the ass's fleece, who is for the land of the Cerberians, or the crows, or Taenarus?
DIONYSUS. I am.
CHARON. Get aboard quick then.
DIONYSUS. Where will you ferry me to? Where are you going to land me?
CHARON. In hell, if you wish. But step in, do.
DIONYSUS. Come here, slave.
CHARON. I carry no slave, unless he has fought at sea to save his skin.
XANTHIAS. But I could not, for my eyes were bad.
CHARON. Well then! be off and walk round the mere.
XANTHIAS. Where shall I come to a halt?
CHARON. At the stone of Auaenus, near the drinking-shop.
DIONYSUS. Do you understand?
XANTHIAS. Perfectly. Oh! unhappy wretch that I am, surely, surely I must have met something of evil omen as I came out of the house?413
CHARON. Come, sit to your oar. If there be anyone else who wants to cross, let him hurry. Hullo! what are you doing?
DIONYSUS. What am I doing? I am sitting on the oar414 as you told me.
CHARON. Will you please have the goodness to place yourself there, pot-belly?
DIONYSUS. There.
CHARON. Put out your hands, stretch your arms.
DIONYSUS. There.
CHARON. No tomfoolery! row hard, and put some heart into the work!
DIONYSUS. Row! and how can I? I, who have never set foot on a ship?
CHARON. There's nothing easier; and once you're at work, you will hear some enchanting singers.
DIONYSUS. Who are they?
CHARON. Frogs with the voices of swans; 'tis most delightful.
DIONYSUS. Come, set the stroke.
CHARON. Yo ho! yo ho!
FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax, brekekekekex, coax. Slimy offspring of the marshland, let our harmonious voices mingle with the sounds of the flute, coax, coax! let us repeat the songs that we sing in honour of the Nysaean Dionysus415 on the day of the feast of pots,416 when the drunken throng reels towards our temple in the Limnae.417 Brekekekex, coax, coax.
DIONYSUS. I am beginning to feel my bottom getting very sore, my dear little coax, coax.
FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.
DIONYSUS. But doubtless you don't care.
FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.
DIONYSUS. May you perish with your coax, your endless coax!
FROGS. And why change it, you great fool? I am beloved by the Muses with the melodious lyre, by the goat-footed Pan, who draws soft tones out of his reed; I am the delight of Apollo, the god of the lyre, because I make the rushes, which are used for the bridge of the lyre, grow in my marshes. Brekekekex, coax, coax.
DIONYSUS. I have got blisters and my behind is all of a sweat; by dint of constant movement, it will soon be saying….
FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.
DIONYSUS. Come, race of croakers, be quiet.
FROGS. Not we; we shall only cry the louder. On fine sunny days, it pleases us to hop through galingale and sedge and to sing while we swim; and when Zeus is pouring down his rain, we join our lively voices to the rustle of the drops. Brekekekex, coax, coax.
DIONYSUS. I forbid you to do it.
FROGS. Oh! that would be too hard!
DIONYSUS. And is it not harder for me to wear myself out with rowing?
FROGS. Brekekekex, coax, coax.
DIONYSUS. May you perish! I don't care.
FROGS. And from morning till night we will shriek with the whole width of our gullets, "Brekekekex, coax, coax."
DIONYSUS. I will cry louder than you all.
FROGS. Oh! don't do that!
DIONYSUS. Oh, yes, I will. I shall cry the whole day, if necessary, until I no longer hear your coax. (He begins to cry against the frogs, who finally stop.) Ah! I knew I would soon put an end to your coax.
CHARON. Enough, enough, a last pull, ship oars, step ashore and pay your passage money.
DIONYSUS. Look! here are my two obols…. Xanthias! where is Xanthias?
Hi! Xanthias!
XANTHIAS (from a distance). Hullo!
DIONYSUS. Come here.
XANTHIAS. I greet you, master.
DIONYSUS. What is there that way?
XANTHIAS. Darkness and mud!
DIONYSUS. Did you see the parricides and the perjured he told us of?
XANTHIAS. Did you?
DIONYSUS. Ha! by Posidon! I see some of them now.418 Well, what are we going to do?
XANTHIAS. The best is to go on, for 'tis here that the horrible monsters are, Heracles told us of.
DIONYSUS. Ah! the wag! He spun yarns to frighten me, but I am a brave fellow and he is jealous of me. There exists no greater braggart than Heracles. Ah! I wish I might meet some monster, so as to distinguish myself by some deed of daring worthy of my daring journey.
XANTHIAS. Ah! hark! I hear a noise.
DIONYSUS (all of a tremble). Where then, where?
XANTHIAS. Behind you.
DIONYSUS. Place yourself behind me.
XANTHIAS. Ah! 'tis in front now.
DIONYSUS. Then pass to the front.
XANTHIAS. Oh! what a monster I can see!
DIONYSUS. What's it like?
XANTHIAS. Dreadful, terrible! it assumes every shape; now 'tis a bull, then a mule; again it is a most beautiful woman.
DIONYSUS. Where is she that I may run toward her?
XANTHIAS. The monster is no longer a woman; 'tis now a dog.
DIONYSUS. Then it is the Empusa.419
XANTHIAS. Its whole face is ablaze.
DIONYSUS. And it has a brazen leg?
XANTHIAS. Aye, i' faith! and the other is an ass's leg,420 rest well assured of that.
DIONYSUS. Where shall I fly to?
XANTHIAS. And I?
DIONYSUS. Priest,421 save me, that I may drink with you.
XANTHIAS. Oh! mighty Heracles! we are dead men.
DIONYSUS. Silence! I adjure you. Don't utter that name.
XANTHIAS. Well then, we are dead men, Dionysus!
DIONYSUS. That still less than the other.
XANTHIAS. Keep straight on, master, here, here, this way.
DIONYSUS. Well?
XANTHIAS. Be at ease, all goes well and we can say with Hegelochus, "After the storm, I see the return of the cat."422 The Empusa has gone.
DIONYSUS. Swear it to me.
XANTHIAS. By Zeus!
DIONYSUS. Swear it again.
XANTHIAS. By Zeus!
DIONYSUS. Once more.
XANTHIAS. By Zeus!
DIONYSUS. Oh! my god! how white I went at the sight of the Empusa! But yonder fellow got red instead, so horribly afraid was he!423 Alas! to whom do I owe this terrible meeting? What god shall I accuse of having sought my death? Might it be "the Aether, the dwelling of Zeus," or "the wing of Time"?424
XANTHIAS. Hist!
DIONYSUS. What's the matter?
XANTHIAS. Don't you hear?
DIONYSUS. What then?
XANTHIAS. The sound of flutes.
DIONYSUS. Aye, certainly, and the wind wafts a smell of torches hither, which bespeaks the Mysteries a league away. But make no noise; let us hide ourselves and listen.
CHORUS.425 Iacchus, oh! Iacchus! Iacchus, oh! Iacchus!
XANTHIAS. Master, these are the initiates, of whom Heracles spoke and who are here at their sports; they are incessantly singing of Iacchus, just like Diagoras.426
DIONYSUS. I believe you are right, but 'tis best to keep ourselves quiet till we get better information.
CHORUS. Iacchus, venerated god, hasten at our call. Iacchus, oh! Iacchus! come into this meadow, thy favourite resting-place; come to direct the sacred choirs of the Initiate; may a thick crown of fruit-laden myrtle branches rest on thy head and may thy bold foot step this free and joyful dance, taught us by the Graces—this pure, religious measure, that our sacred choirs rehearse.
XANTHIAS. Oh! thou daughter of Demeter, both mighty and revered, what a delicious odour of pork!
DIONYSUS. Cannot you keep still then, fellow, once you get a whiff of a bit of tripe?
CHORUS. Brandish the flaming torches and so revive their brilliancy. Iacchus, oh! Iacchus! bright luminary of our nocturnal Mysteries. The meadow sparkles with a thousand fires; the aged shake off the weight of cares and years; they have once more found limbs of steel, wherewith to take part in thy sacred measures; and do thou, blessed deity, lead the dances of youth upon this dewy carpet of flowers with a torch in thine hand.
Silence, make way for our choirs, you profane and impure souls, who have neither been present at the festivals of the noble Muses, nor ever footed a dance in their honour, and who are not initiated into the mysterious language of the dithyrambs of the voracious Cratinus;427 away from here he who applauds misplaced buffoonery. Away from here the bad citizen, who for his private ends fans and nurses the flame of sedition, the chief who sells himself, when his country is weathering the storms, and surrenders either fortresses or ships; who, like Thorycion,428 the wretched collector of tolls, sends prohibited goods from Aegina to Epidaurus, such as oar-leathers, sailcloth and pitch, and who secures a subsidy for a hostile fleet,429 or soils the statues of Hecaté,430 while he is humming some dithyramb. Away from here, the orator who nibbles at the salary of the poets, because he has been scouted in the ancient solemnities of Dionysus; to all such I say, and I repeat, and I say it again for the third time, "Make way for the choruses of the Initiate." But you, raise you your voice anew; resume your nocturnal hymns as it is meet to do at this festival.
Let each one advance boldly into the retreats of our flowery meads, let him mingle in our dances, let him give vent to jesting, to wit and to satire. Enough of junketing, lead forward! let our voices praise the divine protectress431 with ardent love, yea! praise her, who promises to assure the welfare of this country for ever, in spite of Thorycion.
Let our hymns now be addressed to Demeter, the Queen of Harvest, the goddess crowned with ears of corn; to her be dedicated the strains of our divine concerts. Oh! Demeter, who presidest over the pure mysteries, help us and protect thy choruses; far from all danger, may I continually yield myself to sports and dancing, mingle laughter with seriousness, as is fitting at thy festivals, and as the reward for my biting sarcasms may I wreathe my head with the triumphal fillets. And now let our songs summon hither the lovable goddess, who so often joins in our dances.
Oh, venerated Dionysus, who hast created such soft melodies for this festival, come to accompany us to the goddess, show that you can traverse a long journey without wearying.432 Dionysus, the king of the dance, guide my steps. 'Tis thou who, to raise a laugh and for the sake of economy,433 hast torn our sandals and our garments; let us bound, let us dance at our pleasure, for we have nothing to spoil. Dionysus, king of the dance, guide my steps. Just now I saw through a corner of my eye a ravishing young girl, the companion of our sports; I saw the nipple of her bosom peeping through a rent in her tunic. Dionysus, king of the dance, guide my steps.