'Twas an old idea,
taken from Phrynichus, who caused his old hag to be devoured by a monster
of the deep.
taken from Phrynichus, who caused his old hag to be devoured by a monster
of the deep.
Aristophanes
Thus, like Electra[515] of the poets, my comedy
has come to seek you to-day, hoping again to encounter such enlightened
spectators. As far away as she can discern her Orestes, she will be able
to recognize him by his curly head. And note her modest demeanour! She
has not sewn on a piece of hanging leather, thick and reddened at the
end,[516] to cause laughter among the children; she does not rail at the
bald, neither does she dance the cordax;[517] no old man is seen, who,
while uttering his lines, batters his questioner with a stick to make his
poor jests pass muster. [518] She does not rush upon the scene carrying a
torch and screaming, 'La, la! la, la! ' No, she relies upon herself and
her verses. . . . My value is so well known, that I take no further pride in
it. I do not seek to deceive you, by reproducing the same subjects two or
three times; I always invent fresh themes to present before you, themes
that have no relation to each other and that are all clever. I attacked
Cleon[519] to his face and when he was all-powerful; but he has fallen,
and now I have no desire to kick him when he is down. My rivals, on the
contrary, once that this wretched Hyperbolus has given them the cue, have
never ceased setting upon both him and his mother. First Eupolis
presented his 'Maricas';[520] this was simply my 'Knights,' whom this
plagiarist had clumsily furbished up again by adding to the piece an old
drunken woman, so that she might dance the cordax.
'Twas an old idea,
taken from Phrynichus, who caused his old hag to be devoured by a monster
of the deep. [521] Then Hermippus[522] fell foul of Hyperbolus and now all
the others fall upon him and repeat my comparison of the eels. May those
who find amusement in their pieces not be pleased with mine, but as for
you, who love and applaud my inventions, why, posterity will praise your
good taste.
Oh, ruler of Olympus, all-powerful king of the gods, great Zeus, it is
thou whom I first invoke; protect this chorus; and thou too, Posidon,
whose dread trident upheaves at the will of thy anger both the bowels of
the earth and the salty waves of the ocean. I invoke my illustrious
father, the divine Aether, the universal sustainer of life, and Phoebus,
who, from the summit of his chariot, sets the world aflame with his
dazzling rays, Phoebus, a mighty deity amongst the gods and adored
amongst mortals.
Most wise spectators, lend us all your attention. Give heed to our just
reproaches. There exist no gods to whom this city owes more than it does
to us, whom alone you forget. Not a sacrifice, not a libation is there
for those who protect you! Have you decreed some mad expedition? Well! we
thunder or we fall down in rain. When you chose that enemy of heaven, the
Paphlagonian tanner,[523] for a general, we knitted our brow, we caused
our wrath to break out; the lightning shot forth, the thunder pealed, the
moon deserted her course and the sun at once veiled his beam threatening
no longer to give you light, if Cleon became general. Nevertheless you
elected him; 'tis said, Athens never resolves upon some fatal step but
the gods turn these errors into her greatest gain. Do you wish that this
election should even now be a success for you? 'Tis a very simple thing
to do; condemn this rapacious gull named Cleon[524] for bribery and
extortion, fit a wooden collar tight round his neck, and your error will
be rectified and the commonweal will at once regain its old prosperity.
has come to seek you to-day, hoping again to encounter such enlightened
spectators. As far away as she can discern her Orestes, she will be able
to recognize him by his curly head. And note her modest demeanour! She
has not sewn on a piece of hanging leather, thick and reddened at the
end,[516] to cause laughter among the children; she does not rail at the
bald, neither does she dance the cordax;[517] no old man is seen, who,
while uttering his lines, batters his questioner with a stick to make his
poor jests pass muster. [518] She does not rush upon the scene carrying a
torch and screaming, 'La, la! la, la! ' No, she relies upon herself and
her verses. . . . My value is so well known, that I take no further pride in
it. I do not seek to deceive you, by reproducing the same subjects two or
three times; I always invent fresh themes to present before you, themes
that have no relation to each other and that are all clever. I attacked
Cleon[519] to his face and when he was all-powerful; but he has fallen,
and now I have no desire to kick him when he is down. My rivals, on the
contrary, once that this wretched Hyperbolus has given them the cue, have
never ceased setting upon both him and his mother. First Eupolis
presented his 'Maricas';[520] this was simply my 'Knights,' whom this
plagiarist had clumsily furbished up again by adding to the piece an old
drunken woman, so that she might dance the cordax.
'Twas an old idea,
taken from Phrynichus, who caused his old hag to be devoured by a monster
of the deep. [521] Then Hermippus[522] fell foul of Hyperbolus and now all
the others fall upon him and repeat my comparison of the eels. May those
who find amusement in their pieces not be pleased with mine, but as for
you, who love and applaud my inventions, why, posterity will praise your
good taste.
Oh, ruler of Olympus, all-powerful king of the gods, great Zeus, it is
thou whom I first invoke; protect this chorus; and thou too, Posidon,
whose dread trident upheaves at the will of thy anger both the bowels of
the earth and the salty waves of the ocean. I invoke my illustrious
father, the divine Aether, the universal sustainer of life, and Phoebus,
who, from the summit of his chariot, sets the world aflame with his
dazzling rays, Phoebus, a mighty deity amongst the gods and adored
amongst mortals.
Most wise spectators, lend us all your attention. Give heed to our just
reproaches. There exist no gods to whom this city owes more than it does
to us, whom alone you forget. Not a sacrifice, not a libation is there
for those who protect you! Have you decreed some mad expedition? Well! we
thunder or we fall down in rain. When you chose that enemy of heaven, the
Paphlagonian tanner,[523] for a general, we knitted our brow, we caused
our wrath to break out; the lightning shot forth, the thunder pealed, the
moon deserted her course and the sun at once veiled his beam threatening
no longer to give you light, if Cleon became general. Nevertheless you
elected him; 'tis said, Athens never resolves upon some fatal step but
the gods turn these errors into her greatest gain. Do you wish that this
election should even now be a success for you? 'Tis a very simple thing
to do; condemn this rapacious gull named Cleon[524] for bribery and
extortion, fit a wooden collar tight round his neck, and your error will
be rectified and the commonweal will at once regain its old prosperity.
