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Project Gutenberg etext, adapted for E2
Aristophanes: Peace—Scene 5
Scene 5
WAR (ENTERS, CARRYING A HUGE MORTAR)
Oh! mortals, mortals, wretched mortals, how your jaws will snap!
TRYGAEUS
Oh! divine Apollo! what a prodigious big mortar! Oh, what misery
the very sight of War causes me! This then is the foe from whom I fly,
who is so cruel, so formidable, so stalwart, so solid on his legs!
WAR
Oh! Prasiae!1 thrice wretched, five times, aye, a thousand times
wretched! for thou shalt be destroyed this day.
f1 An important town in Eastern Laconia on the Argolic gulf, celebrated
for a temple where a festival was held annually in honour of Achilles.
It had been taken and pillaged by the Athenians in the second year of
the Peloponnesian War, 430 B.C. As he utters this imprecation, War
throws some leeks, the root-word of the name Praisae, into his mortar.
TRYGAEUS
This does not concern us over much; 'tis only so much the worse for
the Laconians.
WAR
Oh! Megara! Megara! how utterly are you going to be ground up! what
fine mincemeat1 are you to be made into!
f1 War throws some garlic into his mortar as emblematical of the city of
Megara, where it was grown in abundance.
TRYGAEUS
Alas! alas! what bitter tears there will be among the Megarians!1
f1 Because the smell of bruised garlic causes the eyes to water.
WAR
Oh, Sicily! you too must perish! Your wretched towns shall be grated
like this cheese.1 Now let us pour some Attic honey2 into the mortar.
f1 He throws cheese into the mortar as emblematical of Sicily, on account
of its rich pastures.
f2 Emblematical of Athens. They honey of Mount Hymettus was famous.
TRYGAEUS
Oh! I beseech you! use some other honey; this kind is worth four obols;
be careful, oh! be careful of our Attic honey.
WAR
Hi! Tumult, you slave there!
TUMULT
What do you want?
WAR
Out upon you! Standing there with folded arms! Take this cuff o' the head
for your pains.
TUMULT
Oh! how it stings! Master, have you got garlic in your fist, I wonder?
WAR
Run and fetch me a pestle.
TUMULT
But we haven't got one; 'twas only yesterday we moved.
WAR
Go and fetch me one from Athens, and hurry, hurry!
TUMULT
Aye, I hasten there; if I return without one, I shall have no cause
for laughing. (EXIT.)
TRYGAEUS
Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are? See the
danger that threatens if he returns with the pestle, for War will
quietly amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces.
Ah! Bacchus! cause this herald of evil to perish on his road!
WAR
Well?
TUMULT (WHO HAS RETURNED)
Well, what?
WAR
You have brought back nothing?
TUMULT
Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle--the tanner, who ground Greece
to powder.1
f1 Cleon, who had lately fallen before Amphipolis, in 422 B.C.
TRYGAEUS
Oh! Athene, venerable mistress! 'tis well for our city he is dead,
and before he could serve us with this hash.
WAR
Then go and seek one at Sparta and have done with it!
TUMULT
Aye, aye, master!
WAR
Be back as quick as ever you can.
TRYGAEUS (TO THE AUDIENCE)
What is going to happen, friends? 'Tis the critical hour. Ah! if there
is some initiate of Samothrace1 among you, 'tis surely the moment
to wish this messenger some accident--some sprain or strain.
f1 An island in the Aegean Sea, on the coast of Thrace and opposite
the mouth of the Hebrus; the Mysteries are said to have found their first
home in this island, where the Cabirian gods were worshipped; this cult,
shrouded in deep mystery to even the initiates themselves, has remained
an almost insoluble problem for the modern critic. It was said that
the wishes of the initiates were always granted, and they were fear as
to-day the 'jettatori' (spell-throwers, casters of the evil eye) in Sicily
are feared.
TUMULT (WHO RETURNS)
Alas! alas! thrice again, alas!
WAR
What is it? Again you come back without it?
TUMULT
The Spartans too have lost their pestle.
WAR
How, varlet?
TUMULT
They had lent it to their allies in Thrace,1 who have lost it for them.
f1 Brasidas perished in Thrace in the same battle as Cleon at Amphipolis,
422 B.C.
TRYGAEUS
Long life to you, Thracians! My hopes revive, pluck up courage,
mortals!
WAR
Take all this stuff away; I am going in to make a pestle for myself.