No, no, let us follow him; old
Acharnians like ourselves shall not be set at naught by a scoundrel, who
has dared, great gods!
Acharnians like ourselves shall not be set at naught by a scoundrel, who
has dared, great gods!
Aristophanes
by Bacchus!
what a bouquet!
It has the aroma of nectar
and ambrosia; this does not say to us, "Provision yourselves for three
days. " But it lisps the gentle numbers, "Go whither you will. "[184] I
accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the Acharnians
to limbo. Freed from the war and its ills, I shall keep the Dionysia[185]
in the country.
AMPHITHEUS. And I shall run away, for I'm mortally afraid of the
Acharnians.
CHORUS. This way all! Let us follow our man; we will demand him of
everyone we meet; the public weal makes his seizure imperative. Ho,
there! tell me which way the bearer of the truce has gone; he has escaped
us, he has disappeared. Curse old age! When I was young, in the days when
I followed Phayllus,[186] running with a sack of coals on my back, this
wretch would not have eluded my pursuit, let him be as swift as he will;
but now my limbs are stiff; old Lacratides[187] feels his legs are
weighty and the traitor escapes me.
No, no, let us follow him; old
Acharnians like ourselves shall not be set at naught by a scoundrel, who
has dared, great gods! to conclude a truce, when I wanted the war
continued with double fury in order to avenge my ruined lands. No mercy
for our foes until I have pierced their hearts like a sharp reed, so that
they dare never again ravage my vineyards. Come, let us seek the rascal;
let us look everywhere, carrying our stones in our hands; let us hunt him
from place to place until we trap him; I could never, never tire of the
delight of stoning him.
DICAEOPOLIS. Peace! profane men! [188]
CHORUS. Silence all! Friends, do you hear the sacred formula? Here is he,
whom we seek! This way, all! Get out of his way, surely he comes to offer
an oblation.
DICAEOPOLIS. Peace, profane men! Let the basket-bearer[189] come forward,
and thou, Xanthias, hold the phallus well upright.
and ambrosia; this does not say to us, "Provision yourselves for three
days. " But it lisps the gentle numbers, "Go whither you will. "[184] I
accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the Acharnians
to limbo. Freed from the war and its ills, I shall keep the Dionysia[185]
in the country.
AMPHITHEUS. And I shall run away, for I'm mortally afraid of the
Acharnians.
CHORUS. This way all! Let us follow our man; we will demand him of
everyone we meet; the public weal makes his seizure imperative. Ho,
there! tell me which way the bearer of the truce has gone; he has escaped
us, he has disappeared. Curse old age! When I was young, in the days when
I followed Phayllus,[186] running with a sack of coals on my back, this
wretch would not have eluded my pursuit, let him be as swift as he will;
but now my limbs are stiff; old Lacratides[187] feels his legs are
weighty and the traitor escapes me.
No, no, let us follow him; old
Acharnians like ourselves shall not be set at naught by a scoundrel, who
has dared, great gods! to conclude a truce, when I wanted the war
continued with double fury in order to avenge my ruined lands. No mercy
for our foes until I have pierced their hearts like a sharp reed, so that
they dare never again ravage my vineyards. Come, let us seek the rascal;
let us look everywhere, carrying our stones in our hands; let us hunt him
from place to place until we trap him; I could never, never tire of the
delight of stoning him.
DICAEOPOLIS. Peace! profane men! [188]
CHORUS. Silence all! Friends, do you hear the sacred formula? Here is he,
whom we seek! This way, all! Get out of his way, surely he comes to offer
an oblation.
DICAEOPOLIS. Peace, profane men! Let the basket-bearer[189] come forward,
and thou, Xanthias, hold the phallus well upright.
