This
accounts
for her beauty, if she is
related to him.
related to him.
Aristophanes
much desired Peace!
thou art the sole support of those who spend their lives tilling the
earth. Under thy rule we had a thousand delicious enjoyments at our beck;
thou wert the husbandman's wheaten cake and his safeguard. So that our
vineyards, our young fig-tree woods and all our plantations hail thee
with delight and smile at thy coming. But where was she then, I wonder,
all the long time she spent away from us? Hermes, thou benevolent god,
tell us!
HERMES. Wise husbandmen, hearken to my words, if you want to know why she
was lost to you. The start of our misfortunes was the exile of
Phidias;[311] Pericles feared he might share his ill-luck, he mistrusted
your peevish nature and, to prevent all danger to himself, he threw out
that little spark, the Megarian decree,[312] set the city aflame, and
blew up the conflagration with a hurricane of war, so that the smoke drew
tears from all Greeks both here and over there. At the very outset of
this fire our vines were a-crackle, our casks knocked together;[313] it
was beyond the power of any man to stop the disaster, and Peace
disappeared.
TRYGAEUS. That, by Apollo! is what no one ever told me; I could not think
what connection there could be between Phidias and Peace.
CHORUS. Nor I; I know it now.
This accounts for her beauty, if she is
related to him. There are so many things that escape us.
HERMES. Then, when the towns subject to you saw that you were angered one
against the other and were showing each other your teeth like dogs, they
hatched a thousand plots to pay you no more dues and gained over the
chief citizens of Sparta at the price of gold. They, being as shamelessly
greedy as they were faithless in diplomacy, chased off Peace with
ignominy to let loose War. Though this was profitable to them, 'twas the
ruin of the husbandmen, who were innocent of all blame; for, in revenge,
your galleys went out to devour their figs.
TRYGAEUS. And 'twas with justice too; did they not break down my black
fig tree, which I had planted and dunged with my own hands?
CHORUS. Yes, by Zeus! yes, 'twas well done; the wretches broke a chest
for me with stones, which held six medimni of corn.
HERMES. Then the rural labourers flocked into the city[314] and let
themselves be bought over like the others. Not having even a grape-stone
to munch and longing after their figs, they looked towards the
orators. [315] These well knew that the poor were driven to extremity and
lacked even bread; but they nevertheless drove away the Goddess each time
she reappeared in answer to the wish of the country with their loud
shrieks, that were as sharp as pitchforks; furthermore, they attacked the
well-filled purses of the richest among our allies on the pretence that
they belonged to Brasidas' party. [316] And then you would tear the poor
accused wretch to pieces with your teeth; for the city, all pale with
hunger and cowed with terror, gladly snapped up any calumny that was
thrown it to devour.
thou art the sole support of those who spend their lives tilling the
earth. Under thy rule we had a thousand delicious enjoyments at our beck;
thou wert the husbandman's wheaten cake and his safeguard. So that our
vineyards, our young fig-tree woods and all our plantations hail thee
with delight and smile at thy coming. But where was she then, I wonder,
all the long time she spent away from us? Hermes, thou benevolent god,
tell us!
HERMES. Wise husbandmen, hearken to my words, if you want to know why she
was lost to you. The start of our misfortunes was the exile of
Phidias;[311] Pericles feared he might share his ill-luck, he mistrusted
your peevish nature and, to prevent all danger to himself, he threw out
that little spark, the Megarian decree,[312] set the city aflame, and
blew up the conflagration with a hurricane of war, so that the smoke drew
tears from all Greeks both here and over there. At the very outset of
this fire our vines were a-crackle, our casks knocked together;[313] it
was beyond the power of any man to stop the disaster, and Peace
disappeared.
TRYGAEUS. That, by Apollo! is what no one ever told me; I could not think
what connection there could be between Phidias and Peace.
CHORUS. Nor I; I know it now.
This accounts for her beauty, if she is
related to him. There are so many things that escape us.
HERMES. Then, when the towns subject to you saw that you were angered one
against the other and were showing each other your teeth like dogs, they
hatched a thousand plots to pay you no more dues and gained over the
chief citizens of Sparta at the price of gold. They, being as shamelessly
greedy as they were faithless in diplomacy, chased off Peace with
ignominy to let loose War. Though this was profitable to them, 'twas the
ruin of the husbandmen, who were innocent of all blame; for, in revenge,
your galleys went out to devour their figs.
TRYGAEUS. And 'twas with justice too; did they not break down my black
fig tree, which I had planted and dunged with my own hands?
CHORUS. Yes, by Zeus! yes, 'twas well done; the wretches broke a chest
for me with stones, which held six medimni of corn.
HERMES. Then the rural labourers flocked into the city[314] and let
themselves be bought over like the others. Not having even a grape-stone
to munch and longing after their figs, they looked towards the
orators. [315] These well knew that the poor were driven to extremity and
lacked even bread; but they nevertheless drove away the Goddess each time
she reappeared in answer to the wish of the country with their loud
shrieks, that were as sharp as pitchforks; furthermore, they attacked the
well-filled purses of the richest among our allies on the pretence that
they belonged to Brasidas' party. [316] And then you would tear the poor
accused wretch to pieces with your teeth; for the city, all pale with
hunger and cowed with terror, gladly snapped up any calumny that was
thrown it to devour.
