But, poor devils, suppose our
husbands
go away and leave us.
Aristophanes
LAMPITO. 'Tis a hard thing, by the two goddesses[406] it is! for a woman
to sleep alone without ever a standing weapon in her bed. But there,
Peace must come first.
LYSISTRATA. Oh, my dear, my dearest, best friend, you are the only one
deserving the name of woman!
CALONICE. But if--which the gods forbid--we do refrain altogether from
what you say, should we get peace any sooner?
LYSISTRATA. Of course we should, by the goddesses twain! We need only sit
indoors with painted cheeks, and meet our mates lightly clad in
transparent gowns of Amorgos[407] silk, and with our "mottes" nicely
plucked smooth; then their tools will stand like mad and they will be
wild to lie with us. That will be the time to refuse, and they will
hasten to make peace, I am convinced of that!
LAMPITO. Yes, just as Menelaus, when he saw Helen's naked bosom, threw
away his sword, they say.
CALONICE.
But, poor devils, suppose our husbands go away and leave us.
LYSISTRATA. Then, as Pherecrates says, we must "flay a skinned dog,"[408]
that's all.
CALONICE. Bah! these proverbs are all idle talk. . . . But if our husbands
drag us by main force into the bedchamber?
LYSISTRATA. Hold on to the door posts.
CALONICE. But if they beat us?
LYSISTRATA. Then yield to their wishes, but with a bad grace; there is no
pleasure for them, when they do it by force.
