What a
rattling
of water-pots!
Aristophanes
Is there never a Samos general will help me
unload my burden? [415]--Ah! it shall not gall my shoulder any more.
(_Tosses down his wood. _) Come, brazier, do your duty, make the embers
flare, that I may kindle a brand; I want to be the first to hurl one. Aid
me, heavenly Victory; let us punish for their insolent audacity the women
who have seized our citadel, and may we raise a trophy of triumph for
success!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. [416] Oh! my dears, methinks I see fire and smoke; can it
be a conflagration? Let us hurry all we can. Fly, fly, Nicodice, ere
Calyce and Critylle perish in the fire, or are stifled in the smoke
raised by these accursed old men and their pitiless laws. But, great
gods, can it be I come too late? Rising at dawn, I had the utmost trouble
to fill this vessel at the fountain. Oh! what a crowd there was, and what
a din!
What a rattling of water-pots! Servants and slave-girls pushed and
thronged me! However, here I have it full at last; and I am running to
carry the water to my fellow townswomen, whom our foes are plotting to
burn alive. News has been brought us that a company of old, doddering
greybeards, loaded with enormous faggots, as if they wanted to heat a
furnace, have taken the field, vomiting dreadful threats, crying that
they must reduce to ashes these horrible women. Suffer them not, oh!
goddess, but, of thy grace, may I see Athens and Greece cured of their
warlike folly. 'Tis to this end, oh! thou guardian deity of our city,
goddess of the golden crest, that they have seized thy sanctuary. Be
their friend and ally, Athene, and if any man hurl against them lighted
firebrands, aid us to carry water to extinguish them.
STRATYLLIS. Let me be, I say. Oh! oh! (_She calls for help. _)
CHORUS OF WOMEN. What is this I see, ye wretched old men?
unload my burden? [415]--Ah! it shall not gall my shoulder any more.
(_Tosses down his wood. _) Come, brazier, do your duty, make the embers
flare, that I may kindle a brand; I want to be the first to hurl one. Aid
me, heavenly Victory; let us punish for their insolent audacity the women
who have seized our citadel, and may we raise a trophy of triumph for
success!
CHORUS OF WOMEN. [416] Oh! my dears, methinks I see fire and smoke; can it
be a conflagration? Let us hurry all we can. Fly, fly, Nicodice, ere
Calyce and Critylle perish in the fire, or are stifled in the smoke
raised by these accursed old men and their pitiless laws. But, great
gods, can it be I come too late? Rising at dawn, I had the utmost trouble
to fill this vessel at the fountain. Oh! what a crowd there was, and what
a din!
What a rattling of water-pots! Servants and slave-girls pushed and
thronged me! However, here I have it full at last; and I am running to
carry the water to my fellow townswomen, whom our foes are plotting to
burn alive. News has been brought us that a company of old, doddering
greybeards, loaded with enormous faggots, as if they wanted to heat a
furnace, have taken the field, vomiting dreadful threats, crying that
they must reduce to ashes these horrible women. Suffer them not, oh!
goddess, but, of thy grace, may I see Athens and Greece cured of their
warlike folly. 'Tis to this end, oh! thou guardian deity of our city,
goddess of the golden crest, that they have seized thy sanctuary. Be
their friend and ally, Athene, and if any man hurl against them lighted
firebrands, aid us to carry water to extinguish them.
STRATYLLIS. Let me be, I say. Oh! oh! (_She calls for help. _)
CHORUS OF WOMEN. What is this I see, ye wretched old men?
