The Eleven Comedies by Aristophanes et al

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A word or two as to existing translations of Aristophanes. These, the
English ones at any rate, leave much to be desired; indeed it is not too
much to say that there is no version of our Author in the language which
gives the general reader anything like an adequate notion of these Plays.
We speak of prose renderings. Aristophanes has been far more fortunate in
his verse translators--Mitchell, who published four Comedies in this form
in 1822, old-fashioned, but still helpful, Hookham Frere, five plays
(1871), both scholarly and spirited, and last but not least, Mr. Bickley
Rogers, whose excellent versions have appeared at intervals since 1867.
But from their very nature these cannot afford anything like an exact
idea of the 'ipsissima verba' of the Comedies, while all slur over or
omit altogether passages in any way 'risqué.' There remains only our old
friend 'Bohn' ("The Comedies of Aristophanes; a literal Translation by W.
J. Hickie"), and what stuff 'Bohn' is! By very dint of downright
literalness--though not, by-the-bye, always downright accuracy--any true
notion of the Author's meaning is quite obscured. The letter kills the
spirit.

The French prose versions are very good. That by C. Poyard (in the series
of "Chefs-d'oeuvre des Littératures Anciennes") combines scholarly
precision with an easy, racy, vernacular style in a way that seems
impossible to any but a French scholar.

The order here adopted for the successive plays differs slightly from
that observed in most editions; but as these latter do not agree amongst
themselves, this small assumption of licence appears not unwarrantable.
Chronologically 'The Acharnians' (426 B.C.) should come first; but it
seems more convenient to group it with the two other "Comedies of the
War," the whole trilogy dealing with the hardships involved by the
struggle with the Lacedaemonians and the longings of the Athenian people
for the blessings of peace. This leaves 'The Knights' to open the whole
series--the most important politically of all Aristophanes' productions,
embodying as it does his trenchant attack on the great demagogue Cleon
and striking the keynote of the author's general attitude as advocate of
old-fashioned conservatism against the new democracy, its reckless
'Imperialism' and the unscrupulous and self-seeking policy, so the
aristocratic party deemed it, of its accredited leaders.

Order, as thus rearranged, approximate date, and _motif_ (in brief) of
each of the eleven Comedies are given below:

'The Knights': 424 B.C.--eighth year of the War. Attacks Cleon, the
Progressives, and the War policy generally.

Comedies of the War:--

'The Acharnians': 426 B.C.--sixth year of the War. Insists on the
miseries consequent on the War, especially affecting the rural
population, as represented by the Acharnian Dicaeopolis and his
fellow demesmen. Incidentally makes fun of the tragedian Euripides.

'Peace': 422 B.C.--tenth year of the War. Further insists on the same
theme, and enlarges on the blessings of Peace. The hero Trygaeus
flies to Olympus, mounted on a beetle, to bring back the goddess
Peace to earth.

'Lysistrata': 411 B.C.--twenty-first year of the War. A burlesque
conspiracy entered into by the confederated women of Hellas, led by
Lysistrata the Athenian, to compel the men to conclude peace.

'The Clouds': 423 B.C.--satirizes Socrates, the 'Sophists,' and the
'New Education.'

'The Wasps': 422 B.C. Makes fun of the Athenian passion for
litigation, and the unsatisfactory organization of the Courts.
Contains the incident of the mock trial of the thievish house-dog.

'The Birds': 414 B.C. Euelpides and Pisthetaerus, disgusted with the
state of things at Athens, build a new and improved city,
Cloud-cuckoo-town, in the kingdom of the birds. Some see an allusion
to the Sicilian expedition, and Alcibiades' Utopian schemes.

'The Frogs': 405 B.C. A satire on Euripides and the 'New Tragedy.'
Dionysus, patron of the Drama, dissatisfied with the contemporary
condition of the Art, goes down to Hades to bring back to earth a
poet of the older and worthier school.

'The Thesmophoriazusae': 412 B.C. Another literary satire; Euripides,
summoned as a notorious defamer of women to defend himself before the
dames of Athens assembled in solemn conclave at the Thesmophoria, or
festival of Demeter and Persephone, induces his father-in-law,
Mnesilochus, to dress up in women's clothes, penetrate thus disguised
into the assemblage, and plead the poet's cause, but with scant
success.

'The Ecclesiazusae': 392 B.C. Pokes fun at the ideal Utopias, such as
Plato's 'Republic,' based on sweeping social and economic changes,
greatly in vogue with the Sophists of the day. The women of the city
disguise themselves as men, slip into the Public Assembly and secure
a majority of votes. They then pass a series of decrees providing for
community of goods and community of women, which produce,
particularly the latter, a number of embarrassing and diverting
consequences.

'Plutus': 408 and 388 B.C. A whimsical allegory more than a regular
comedy. Plutus, the god of wealth, has been blinded by Zeus;
discovered in the guise of a ragged beggarman and succoured by
Chremylus, an old man who has ruined himself by generosity to his
friends, he is restored to sight by Aesculapius. He duly rewards
Chremylus, and henceforth apportions this world's goods among mankind
on juster principles--enriching the just, but condemning the unjust
to poverty.

AUTHORITIES

List Of Editions, Commentaries, Etc., Used Or Consulted

Text: edit. Dindorf, Oxford

Text: edit. Blaydes. 1886.

Text, with Notes, etc.: edit. Immanuel Bekker. 5 vols. 1829.

Text, with Notes, etc.: Brunck.

Text, with (German) Notes, etc.: Separate Plays: edit. Kock.

Text, with Notes, etc.: Separate Plays: edit. Rev. W. W. Merry.
1887-1901.

Translation: English, by W. J. Hickie. (Bohn's Classical Library.)

Translation: English verse, 'Knights,' 'Acharnians,' 'Clouds,' 'Wasps,'
by Mitchell. 1822.

Translation: English verse, 'Knights,' 'Acharnians,' 'Birds,' 'Frogs,'
'Peace,' by Hookham Frere. 1871.

Translation: English verse, Various Plays, by B. Bickley Rogers. 1867
onwards.

Translation: French, by C. Poyard. ("Chefs-d'oeuvre des Littératures
Anciennes." Paris, Hachette. 1875.)

Translation: French, by Eugène Talbot, with Preface by Sully Prudhomme. 2
vols. Paris, Lemerre. 1897.

Translation: German, by Droysen.

"Aristophanes" (Ancient Classics for English Readers): edit. W. Lucas
Collins. 1897.

"Aristophane et l'ancienne Comédie attique," par Auguste Couat. Paris.
1889.

"Aristophane et les Partis à Athens," par Maurice Croiset. Paris,
Fontemoing. 1906.

"Beiträge zur inneren Geschichte Athens im Zeitalter des Pelopon.
Krieges," G. Gilbert. Leipzig. 1877.

"Die attischen Politik seit Perikles," J. Beloch. Leipzig. 1884.

"Aristophanes und die historische Kritik," Müller-Strübing. Leipzig.
1873.

Footnotes:

[1] Ancient Classics for English Readers: Aristophanes, by Lucas Collins,
Introductory Chapter, p. 2.

[2] "Aristophane": Traduction Nouvelle, par C. Poyard (Paris, 1875):
Introduction.

[3] Ancient Classics for English Readers: "Aristophanes," by Lucas
Collins. Introductory Chapter, p. 12.

THE KNIGHTS

INTRODUCTION

This was the fourth play in order of time produced by Aristophanes on the
Athenian stage; it was brought out at the Lenaean Festival, in January,
424 B.C. Of the author's previous efforts, two, 'The Revellers' and 'The
Babylonians,' were apparently youthful essays, and are both lost. The
other, 'The Acharnians,' forms the first of the three Comedies dealing
directly with the War and its disastrous effects and urging the
conclusion of Peace; for this reason it is better ranged along with its
sequels, the 'Peace' and the 'Lysistrata,' and considered in conjunction
with them.

In many respects 'The Knights' may be reckoned the great Comedian's
masterpiece, the direct personal attack on the then all-powerful Cleon,
with its scathing satire and tremendous invective, being one of the most
vigorous and startling things in literature. Already in 'The Acharnians'
he had threatened to "cut up Cleon the Tanner into shoe-leather for the
Knights," and he now proceeds to carry his menace into execution,
"concentrating the whole force of his wit in the most unscrupulous and
merciless fashion against his personal enemy." In the first-mentioned
play Aristophanes had attacked and satirized the whole general policy of
the democratic party--and incidentally Cleon, its leading spirit and
mouthpiece since the death of Pericles; he had painted the miseries of
war and invasion arising from this mistaken and mischievous line of
action, as he regarded it, and had dwelt on the urgent necessity of peace
in the interests of an exhausted country and ruined agriculture. Now he
turns upon Cleon personally, and pays him back a hundredfold for the
attacks the demagogue had made in the Public Assembly on the daring
critic, and the abortive charge which the same unscrupulous enemy had
brought against him in the Courts of having "slandered the city in the
presence of foreigners." "In this bitterness of spirit the play stands in
strong contrast with the good-humoured burlesque of 'The Acharnians' and
the 'Peace,' or, indeed, with any other of the author's productions which
has reached us."

The characters are five only. First and foremost comes Demos, 'The
People,' typifying the Athenian democracy, a rich householder--a
self-indulgent, superstitious, weak creature. He has had several
overseers or factors in succession, to look after his estate and manage
his slaves. The present one is known as 'the Paphlagonian,' or sometimes
as 'the Tanner,' an unprincipled, lying, cheating, pilfering scoundrel,
fawning and obsequious to his master, insolent towards his subordinates.
Two of these are Nicias and Demosthenes. Here we have real names. Nicias
was High Admiral of the Athenian navy at the time, and Demosthenes one of
his Vice-Admirals; both held still more important commands later in
connection with the Sicilian Expedition of 415-413 B.C. Fear of
consequences apparently prevented the poet from doing the same in the
case of Cleon, who is, of course, intended under the names of 'the
Paphlagonian' and 'the Tanner.' Indeed, so great was the terror inspired
by the great man that no artist was found bold enough to risk his
powerful vengeance by caricaturing his features, and no actor dared to
represent him on the stage. Aristophanes is said to have played the part
himself, with his face, in the absence of a mask, smeared with wine-lees,
roughly mimicking the purple and bloated visage of the demagogue. The
remaining character is 'the Sausage-seller,' who is egged on by Nicias
and Demosthenes to oust 'the Paphlagonian' from Demos' favour by outvying
him in his own arts of impudent flattery, noisy boasting and unscrupulous
allurement. After a fierce and stubbornly contested trial of wits and
interchange of 'Billingsgate,' 'the Sausage-seller' beats his rival at
his own weapons and gains his object; he supplants the disgraced
favourite, who is driven out of the house with ignominy.

The Comedy takes its title, as was often the case, from the Chorus, which
is composed of Knights--the order of citizens next to the highest at
Athens, and embodying many of the old aristocratic preferences and
prejudices.

The drama was adjudged the first prize--the 'Satyrs' of Cratinus being
placed second--by acclamation, as such a masterpiece of wit and
intrepidity certainly deserved to be; but, as usual, the political result
was nil. The piece was applauded in the most enthusiastic manner, the
satire on the sovereign multitude was forgiven, and--Cleon remained in as
much favour as ever.[4]

* * * * *

THE KNIGHTS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

DEMOSTHENES.
NICIAS.
AGORACRITUS, a Sausage-seller.
CLEON.
DEMOS, an old man, typifying the Athenian people.
CHORUS OF KNIGHTS.

SCENE: In front of Demos' house at Athens.

* * * * *

THE KNIGHTS

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! alas! alas! Oh! woe! oh! woe! Miserable Paphlagonian![5]
may the gods destroy both him and his cursed advice! Since that evil day
when this new slave entered the house he has never ceased belabouring us
with blows.

NICIAS. May the plague seize him, the arch-fiend--him and his lying
tales!

DEMOSTHENES. Hah! my poor fellow, what is your condition?

NICIAS. Very wretched, just like your own.

DEMOSTHENES. Then come, let us sing a duet of groans in the style of
Olympus.[6]

DEMOSTHENES AND NICIAS. Boo, hoo! boo, hoo! boo, hoo! boo, hoo! boo, hoo!
boo, hoo!!

DEMOSTHENES. Bah! 'tis lost labour to weep! Enough of groaning! Let us
consider how to save our pelts.

NICIAS. But how to do it! Can you suggest anything?

DEMOSTHENES. Nay! you begin. I cede you the honour.

NICIAS. By Apollo! no, not I. Come, have courage! Speak, and then I will
say what I think.

DEMOSTHENES. "Ah! would you but tell me what I should tell you!"[7]

NICIAS. I dare not. How could I express my thoughts with the pomp of
Euripides?

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! prithee, spare me! Do not pelt me with those
vegetables,[8] but find some way of leaving our master.

NICIAS. Well, then! Say "Let-us-bolt," like this, in one breath.

DEMOSTHENES. I follow you--"Let-us-bolt."

NICIAS. Now after "Let-us-bolt" say "at-top-speed!"

DEMOSTHENES. "At-top-speed!"

NICIAS. Splendid! Just as if you were masturbating yourself; first
slowly, "Let-us-bolt"; then quick and firmly, "at-top-speed!"

DEMOSTHENES. Let-us-bolt, let-us-bolt-at-top-speed![9]

NICIAS. Hah! does that not please you?

DEMOSTHENES. I' faith, yes! yet I fear me your omen bodes no good to my
hide.

NICIAS. How so?

DEMOSTHENES. Because hard rubbing abrades the skin when folk masturbate
themselves.

NICIAS. The best thing we can do for the moment is to throw ourselves at
the feet of the statue of some god.

DEMOSTHENES. Of which statue? Any statue? Do you then believe there are
gods?

NICIAS. Certainly.

DEMOSTHENES. What proof have you?

NICIAS. The proof that they have taken a grudge against me. Is that not
enough?

DEMOSTHENES. I'm convinced it is. But to pass on. Do you consent to my
telling the spectators of our troubles?

NICIAS. 'Twould not be amiss, and we might ask them to show us by their
manner, whether our facts and actions are to their liking.

DEMOSTHENES. I will begin then. We have a very brutal master, a perfect
glutton for beans,[10] and most bad-tempered; 'tis Demos of the Pnyx,[11]
an intolerable old man and half deaf. The beginning of last month he
bought a slave, a Paphlagonian tanner, an arrant rogue, the incarnation
of calumny. This man of leather knows his old master thoroughly; he plays
the fawning cur, flatters, cajoles; wheedles, and dupes him at will with
little scraps of leavings, which he allows him to get. "Dear Demos," he
will say, "try a single case and you will have done enough; then take
your bath, eat, swallow and devour; here are three obols."[12] Then the
Paphlagonian filches from one of us what we have prepared and makes a
present of it to our old man. T'other day I had just kneaded a Spartan
cake at Pylos;[13] the cunning rogue came behind my back, sneaked it and
offered the cake, which was my invention, in his own name. He keeps us at
a distance and suffers none but himself to wait upon the master; when
Demos is dining, he keeps close to his side with a thong in his hand and
puts the orators to flight. He keeps singing oracles to him, so that the
old man now thinks of nothing but the Sibyl. Then, when he sees him
thoroughly obfuscated, he uses all his cunning and piles up lies and
calumnies against the household; then we are scourged and the
Paphlagonian runs about among the slaves to demand contributions with
threats and gathers 'em in with both hands. He will say, "You see how I
have had Hylas beaten! Either content me or die at once!" We are forced
to give, for else the old man tramples on us and makes us spew forth all
our body contains. There must be an end to it, friend. Let us see! what
can be done? Who will get us out of this mess?

NICIAS. The best thing, chum, is our famous "Let-us-bolt!"

DEMOSTHENES. But none can escape the Paphlagonian, his eye is everywhere.
And what a stride! He has one leg on Pylos and the other in the Assembly;
his rump is exactly over the land of the Chaonians, his hands are with
the Aetolians and his mind with the Clopidians.[14]

NICIAS. 'Tis best then to die; but let us seek the most heroic death.

DEMOSTHENES. Let me bethink me, what is the most heroic?

NICIAS. Let us drink the blood of a bull; 'tis the death which
Themistocles chose.[15]

DEMOSTHENES. No, not that, but a bumper of good unmixed wine in honour of
the Good Genius;[16] perchance we may stumble on a happy thought.

NICIAS. Look at him! "Unmixed wine!" Your mind is on drink intent? Can a
man strike out a brilliant thought when drunk?

DEMOSTHENES. Without question. Go, ninny, blow yourself out with water;
do you dare to accuse wine of clouding the reason? Quote me more
marvellous effects than those of wine. Look! when a man drinks, he is
rich, everything he touches succeeds, he gains lawsuits, is happy and
helps his friends. Come, bring hither quick a flagon of wine, that I may
soak my brain and get an ingenious idea.

NICIAS. Eh, my god! What can your drinking do to help us?

DEMOSTHENES. Much. But bring it to me, while I take my seat. Once drunk,
I shall strew little ideas, little phrases, little reasonings everywhere.

NICIAS (_returning with a flagon_). It is lucky I was not caught in the
house stealing the wine.

DEMOSTHENES. Tell me, what is the Paphlagonian doing now?

NICIAS. The wretch has just gobbled up some confiscated cakes; he is
drunk and lies at full-length a-snoring on his hides.

DEMOSTHENES. Very well, come along, pour me out wine and plenty of it.

NICIAS. Take it and offer a libation to your Good Genius; taste, taste
the liquor of the genial soil of Pramnium.[17]

DEMOSTHENES. Oh, Good Genius! 'Tis thy will, not mine.

NICIAS. Prithee, tell me, what is it?

DEMOSTHENES. Run indoors quick and steal the oracles of the Paphlagonian,
while he is asleep.[18]

NICIAS. Bless me! I fear this Good Genius will be but a very Bad Genius
for me.

DEMOSTHENES. And set the flagon near me, that I may moisten my wit to
invent some brilliant notion.

NICIAS (_enters the house and returns at once_). How the Paphlagonian
grunts and snores! I was able to seize the sacred oracle, which he was
guarding with the greatest care, without his seeing me.

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! clever fellow! Hand it here, that I may read. Come, pour
me out some drink, bestir yourself! Let me see what there is in it. Oh!
prophecy! Some drink! some drink! Quick!

NICIAS. Well! what says the oracle?

DEMOSTHENES. Pour again.

NICIAS. Is "pour again" in the oracle?

DEMOSTHENES. Oh, Bacis![19]

NICIAS. But what is in it?

DEMOSTHENES. Quick! some drink!

NICIAS. Bacis is very dry!

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! miserable Paphlagonian! This then is why you have so
long taken such precautions; your horoscope gave you qualms of terror.

NICIAS. What does it say?

DEMOSTHENES. It says here how he must end.

NICIAS. And how?

DEMOSTHENES. How? the oracle announces clearly that a dealer in oakum
must first govern the city.[20]

NICIAS. First dealer. And after him, who?

DEMOSTHENES. After him, a sheep-dealer.[21]

NICIAS. Two dealers, eh? And what is this one's fate?

DEMOSTHENES. To reign until a greater scoundrel than he arises; then he
perishes and in his place the leather-seller appears, the Paphlagonian
robber, the bawler, who roars like a torrent.[22]

NICIAS. And the leather-seller must destroy the sheep-seller?

DEMOSTHENES. Yes.

NICIAS. Oh! woe is me! Where can another seller be found, is there ever a
one left?

DEMOSTHENES. There is yet one, who plies a firstrate trade.

NICIAS. Tell me, pray, what is that?

DEMOSTHENES. You really want to know?

NICIAS. Yes.

DEMOSTHENES. Well then! 'tis a sausage-seller who must overthrow him.

NICIAS. A sausage-seller! Ah! by Posidon! what a fine trade! But where
can this man be found?

DEMOSTHENES. Let us seek him.

NICIAS. Lo! there he is, going towards the market-place; 'tis the gods,
the gods who send him!

DEMOSTHENES. This way, this way, oh, lucky sausage-seller, come forward,
dear friend, our saviour, the saviour of our city.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What is it? Why do you call me?

DEMOSTHENES. Come here, come and learn about your good luck, you who are
Fortune's favourite!

NICIAS. Come! Relieve him of his basket-tray and tell him the oracle of
the god; I will go and look after the Paphlagonian.

DEMOSTHENES. First put down all your gear, then worship the earth and the
gods.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis done. What is the matter?

DEMOSTHENES. Happiness, riches, power; to-day you have nothing, to-morrow
you will have all, oh! chief of happy Athens.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Why not leave me to wash my tripe and to sell my sausages
instead of making game of me?

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! the fool! Your tripe! Do you see these tiers of
people?[23]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes.

DEMOSTHENES. You shall be master to them all, governor of the market, of
the harbours, of the Pnyx; you shall trample the Senate under foot, be
able to cashier the generals, load them with fetters, throw them into
gaol, and you will play the debauchee in the Prytaneum.[24]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What! I?

DEMOSTHENES. You, without a doubt. But you do not yet see all the glory
awaiting you. Stand on your basket and look at all the islands that
surround Athens.[25]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I see them. What then?

DEMOSTHENES. Look at the storehouses and the shipping.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Yes, I am looking.

DEMOSTHENES. Exists there a mortal more blest than you? Furthermore, turn
your right eye towards Caria and your left towards Chalcedon.[26]

SAUSAGE-SELLER. 'Tis then a blessing to squint!

DEMOSTHENES. No, but 'tis you who are going to trade away all this.
According to the oracle you must become the greatest of men.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Just tell me how a sausage-seller can become a great man.

DEMOSTHENES. That is precisely why you will be great, because you are a
sad rascal without shame, no better than a common market rogue.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. I do not hold myself worthy of wielding power.

DEMOSTHENES. Oh! by the gods! Why do you not hold yourself worthy? Have
you then such a good opinion of yourself? Come, are you of honest
parentage?

SAUSAGE-SELLER. By the gods! No! of very bad indeed.

DEMOSTHENES. Spoilt child of fortune, everything fits together to ensure
your greatness.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. But I have not had the least education. I can only read,
and that very badly.

DEMOSTHENES. That is what may stand in your way, almost knowing how to
read. The demagogues will neither have an educated nor an honest man;
they require an ignoramus and a rogue. But do not, do not let go this
gift, which the oracle promises.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. But what does the oracle say?

DEMOSTHENES. Faith! it is put together in very fine enigmatical style, as
elegant as it is clear: "When the eagle-tanner with the hooked claws
shall seize a stupid dragon, a blood-sucker, it will be an end to the hot
Paphlagonian pickled garlic. The god grants great glory to the
sausage-sellers unless they prefer to sell their wares."

SAUSAGE-SELLER. In what way does this concern me? Pray instruct my
ignorance.

DEMOSTHENES. The eagle-tanner is the Paphlagonian.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. What do the hooked claws mean?

DEMOSTHENES. It means to say, that he robs and pillages us with his
claw-like hands.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. And the dragon?

DEMOSTHENES. That is quite clear. The dragon is long and so also is the
sausage; the sausage like the dragon is a drinker of blood. Therefore the
oracle says, that the dragon will triumph over the eagle-tanner, if he
does not let himself be cajoled with words.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. The oracles of the gods summon me! Faith! I do not at all
understand how I can be capable of governing the people.

DEMOSTHENES. Nothing simpler. Continue your trade. Mix and knead together
all the state business as you do for your sausages. To win the people,
always cook them some savoury that pleases them. Besides, you possess all
the attributes of a demagogue; a screeching, horrible voice, a perverse,
cross-grained nature and the language of the market-place. In you all is
united which is needful for governing. The oracles are in your favour,
even including that of Delphi. Come, take a chaplet, offer a libation to
the god of Stupidity[27] and take care to fight vigorously.

SAUSAGE-SELLER. Who will be my ally? for the rich fear the Paphlagonian
and the poor shudder at the sight of him.

DEMOSTHENES. You will have a thousand brave Knights,[28] who detest him,
on your side; also the honest citizens amongst the spectators, those who
are men of brave hearts, and finally myself and the god. Fear not, you
will not see his features, for none have dared to make a mask resembling
him. But the public have wit enough to recognize him.[29]

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