1115 οὐ ψαιστόν, οὐχ ἱερεῖον, οὐκ ἄλλ᾽ οὐδὲ ἓν
ἡμῖν ἔτι θύει τοῖς θεοῖς.
Καρίων
μὰ Δί᾽ οὐδέ γε
θύσει. κακῶς γὰρ ἐπεμελεῖσθ᾽ ἡμῶν τότε.
Ἑρμῆς
καὶ τῶν μὲν ἄλλων μοι θεῶν ἧττον μέλει,
ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἀπόλωλα κἀπιτέτριμμαι.
Καρίων
σωφρονεῖς.
Ἑρμῆς
1120 πρότερον γὰρ εἶχον μὲν παρὰ ταῖς καπηλίσιν
πάντ᾽ ἀγάθ᾽ ἕωθεν εὐθύς, οἰνοῦτταν μέλι
ἰσχάδας, ὅσ᾽ εἰκός ἐστιν Ἑρμῆν ἐσθίειν:
νυνὶ δὲ πεινῶν ἀναβάδην ἀναπαύομαι.
Καρίων
οὔκουν δικαίως, ὅστις ἐποίεις ζημίαν
1125 ἐνίοτε τοιαῦτ᾽ ἀγάθ᾽ ἔχων;
Ἑρμῆς
οἴμοι τάλας,
οἴμοι πλακοῦντος τοῦ ν᾽ τετράδι πεπεμμένου.
Καρίων
ποθεῖς τὸν οὐ παρόντα καὶ μάτην καλεῖς.
Ἑρμῆς
οἴμοι δὲ κωλῆς ἣν ἐγὼ κατήσθιον.
Καρίων
ἀσκωλίαζ᾽ ἐνταῦθα πρὸς τὴν αἰθρίαν.
Ἑρμῆς
1130 σπλάγχνων τε θερμῶν ὧν ἐγὼ κατήσθιον.
Καρίων
ὀδύνη σε περὶ τὰ σπλάγχν᾽ ἔοικέ τι στρέφειν.
Ἑρμῆς
οἴμοι δὲ κύλικος ἴσον ἴσῳ κεκραμένης.
Καρίων
ταύτην ἐπιπιὼν ἀποτρέχων οὐκ ἂν φθάνοις.
Ἑρμῆς
ἆρ᾽ ὠφελήσαις ἄν τι τὸν σαυτοῦ φίλον;
Καρίων
1135 εἴ του δέει γ᾽ ὧν δυνατός εἰμί σ᾽ ὠφελεῖν.
Ἑρμῆς
εἴ μοι πορίσας ἄρτον τιν᾽ εὖ πεπεμμένον
δοίης καταφαγεῖν καὶ κρέας νεανικὸν
ὧν θύεθ᾽ ὑμεῖς ἔνδον.
Καρίων
ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ ἐκφορά.
Ἑρμῆς
καὶ μὴν ὁπότε τι σκευάριον τοῦ δεσπότου
1140 ὑφέλοι᾽, ἐγώ σε λανθάνειν ἐποίουν ἀεί.
Καρίων
ἐφ᾽ ᾧ τε μετέχειν καὐτὸς ὦ τοιχωρύχε.
ἧκεν γὰρ ἄν σοι ναστὸς εὖ πεπεμμένος.
Ἑρμῆς
ἔπειτα τοῦτόν γ᾽ αὐτὸς ἂν κατήσθιες.
Καρίων
οὐ γὰρ μετεῖχες τὰς ἴσας πληγὰς ἐμοί,
1145 ὁπότε τι ληφθείην πανουργήσας ἐγώ.
Ἑρμῆς
μὴ μνησικακήσῃς, εἰ σὺ Φυλὴν κατέλαβες.
ἀλλὰ ξύνοικον πρὸς θεῶν δέξασθέ με.
Καρίων
ἔπειτ᾽ ἀπολιπὼν τοὺς θεοὺς ἐνθάδε μενεῖς;
Ἑρμῆς
τὰ γὰρ παρ᾽ ὑμῖν ἐστι βελτίω πολύ.
Καρίων
1150 τί δέ; ταὐτομολεῖν ἀστεῖον εἶναί σοι δοκεῖ;
Ἑρμῆς
πατρὶς γάρ ἐστι πᾶσ᾽ ἵν᾽ ἂν πράττῃ τις εὖ.
Καρίων
τί δῆτ᾽ ἂν εἴης ὄφελος ἡμῖν ἐνθάδ᾽ ὤν;
Ἑρμῆς
παρὰ τὴν θύραν στροφαῖον ἱδρύσασθέ με.
Καρίων
στροφαῖον; ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ ἔργον ἔστ᾽ οὐδὲν στροφῶν.
Ἑρμῆς
1155 ἀλλ᾽ ἐμπολαῖον.
Καρίων
ἀλλὰ πλουτοῦμεν: τί οὖν
Ἑρμῆν παλιγκάπηλον ἡμᾶς δεῖ τρέφειν;
Ἑρμῆς
ἀλλὰ δόλιον τοίνυν.
Καρίων
δόλιον; ἥκιστά γε:
οὐ γὰρ δόλου νῦν ἔργον, ἀλλ᾽ ἁπλῶν τρόπων.
Ἑρμῆς
ἀλλ᾽ ἡγεμόνιον.
Καρίων
ἀλλ᾽ ὁ θεὸς ἤδη βλέπει,
1160 ὥσθ᾽ ἡγεμόνος οὐδὲν δεησόμεσθ᾽ ἔτι.
Ἑρμῆς
ἐναγώνιος τοίνυν ἔσομαι. τί δῆτ᾽ ἐρεῖς;
Πλούτῳ γάρ ἐστι τοῦτο συμφορώτατον
ποιεῖν ἀγῶνας μουσικοὺς καὶ γυμνικούς.
Καρίων
ὡς ἀγαθόν ἐστ᾽ ἐπωνυμίας πολλὰς ἔχειν:
1165 οὗτος γὰρ ἐξηύρηκεν αὑτῷ βιότιον.
οὐκ ἐτὸς ἅπαντες οἱ δικάζοντες θαμὰ
σπεύδουσιν ἐν πολλοῖς γεγράφθαι γράμμασιν.
Ἑρμῆς
οὐκοῦν ἐπὶ τούτοις εἰσίω;
Καρίων
καὶ πλῦνέ γε
αὐτὸς προσελθὼν πρὸς τὸ φρέαρ τὰς κοιλίας,
1170 ἵν᾽ εὐθέως διακονικὸς εἶναι δοκῇς.
Χοροῦ
Ἱερεύς
τίς ἂν φράσειε ποῦ ‘στι Χρεμύλος μοι σαφῶς;
Χρεμύλος
τί δ᾽ ἔστιν ὦ βέλτιστε;
Ἱερεύς
τί γὰρ ἀλλ᾽ ἢ κακῶς;
ἀφ᾽ οὗ γὰρ ὁ Πλοῦτος οὗτος ἤρξατο βλέπειν,
ἀπόλωλ᾽ ὑπὸ λιμοῦ. καταφαγεῖν γὰρ οὐκ ἔχω,
1175 καὶ ταῦτα τοῦ σωτῆρος ἱερεὺς ὢν Διός.
Χρεμύλος
ἡ δ᾽ αἰτία τίς ἐστιν ὦ πρὸς τῶν θεῶν;
Ἱερεύς
θύειν ἔτ᾽ οὐδεὶς ἀξιοῖ.
Χρεμύλος
τίνος οὕνεκα;
Ἱερεύς
ὅτι πάντες εἰσὶ πλούσιοι: καίτοι τότε,
ὅτ᾽ εἶχον οὐδέν, ὁ μὲν ἂν ἥκων ἔμπορος
1180 ἔθυσεν ἱερεῖόν τι σωθείς, ὁ δέ τις ἂν
δίκην ἀποφυγών, ὁ δ᾽ ἂν ἐκαλλιερεῖτό τις
κἀμέ γ᾽ ἐκάλει τὸν ἱερέα: νῦν δ᾽ οὐδὲ εἷς
θύει τὸ παράπαν οὐδὲν οὐδ᾽ εἰσέρχεται,
πλὴν ἀποπατησόμενοί γε πλεῖν ἢ μύριοι.
Χρεμύλος
1185 οὔκουν τὰ νομιζόμενα σὺ τούτων λαμβάνεις;
Ἱερεύς
τὸν οὖν Δία τὸν σωτῆρα καὐτός μοι δοκῶ
χαίρειν ἐάσας ἐνθάδ᾽ αὐτοῦ καταμένειν.
Χρεμύλος
θάρρει: καλῶς ἔσται γάρ, ἢν θεὸς θέλῃ.
ὁ Ζεὺς ὁ σωτὴρ γὰρ πάρεστιν ἐνθάδε,
1190 αὐτόματος ἥκων.
Ἱερεύς
πάντ᾽ ἀγαθὰ τοίνυν λέγεις.
Χρεμύλος
ἱδρυσόμεθ᾽ οὖν αὐτίκα μάλ᾽, ἀλλὰ περίμενε
τὸν Πλοῦτον, οὗπερ πρότερον ἦν ἱδρυμένος
τὸν ὀπισθόδομον ἀεὶ φυλάττων τῆς θεοῦ.
ἀλλ᾽ ἐκδότω τις δεῦρο δᾷδας ἡμμένας,
1195 ἵν᾽ ἔχων προηγῇ τῷ θεῷ σύ.
Ἱερεύς
πάνυ μὲν οὖν
δρᾶν ταῦτα χρή.
Χρεμύλος
τὸν Πλοῦτον ἔξω τις κάλει.
Γραῦς
ἐγὼ δὲ τί ποιῶ;
Χρεμύλος
τὰς χύτρας, αἷς τὸν θεὸν
ἱδρυσόμεθα, λαβοῦσ᾽ ἐπὶ τῆς κεφαλῆς φέρε
σεμνῶς: ἔχουσα δ᾽ ἦλθες αὐτὴ ποικίλα.
Γραῦς
1200 ὧν δ᾽ οὕνεκ᾽ ἦλθον;
Χρεμύλος
πάντα σοι πεπράξεται.
ἥξει γὰρ ὁ νεανίσκος ὡς σ᾽ εἰς ἑσπέραν.
Γραῦς
ἀλλ᾽ εἴ γε μέντοι νὴ Δί᾽ ἐγγυᾷ σύ μοι
ἥξειν ἐκεῖνον ὡς ἔμ᾽, οἴσω τὰς χύτρας.
Χρεμύλος
καὶ μὴν πολὺ τῶν ἄλλων χυτρῶν τἀναντία
1205 αὗται ποιοῦσι: ταῖς μὲν ἄλλαις γὰρ χύτραις
ἡ γραῦς ἔπεστ᾽ ἀνωτάτω, ταύτης δὲ νῦν
τῆς γραὸς ἐπιπολῆς ἔπεισιν αἱ χύτραι.
Χορός
οὐκ ἔτι τοίνυν εἰκὸς μέλλειν οὐδ᾽ ἡμᾶς, ἀλλ᾽ ἀναχωρεῖν
ἐς τοὔπισθεν: δεῖ γὰρ κατόπιν τούτων ᾁδοντας ἕπεσθαι.
The Biographies
The seats in the Theatre of Dionysus, Athens
A Victorian artist’s impression of the theatre in its heyday
INTRODUCTION TO ARISTOPHANES by John Williams White
Aristophanes is an elusive poet. The main religious convictions of Aeschylus may be determined with certainty from his extant plays; attentive study of the dramas of Euripides reveals his cardinal opinions on politics, society and religion, and his philosophic attitude; but who can affirm with confidence that he has penetrated the comic mask of Aristophanes and knows his beliefs? The poet’s mocking irony baffles and perplexes his reader at almost every turn.
One element of the poet’s irony is his apparent frankness. He has at times the air of desiring to be taken seriously and seems to be expressing honest convictions. He is very suggestive and provokes reflection, but the attempt to reduce his opinions to system reveals the illusion. We become uneasily conscious that the great satirist is laughing behind his mask.
A proof of this deceptive quality of the poet’s humour is found in the diversity of the opinions that have been held as to his purpose in writing. It was once the fashion among modern interpreters to take him very seriously, — the comic poet disappeared in the reformer. He was eulogized as a moralist and patriot, whose lofty purpose was to instruct his fellow-countrymen; as an earnest thinker, who had reflected deeply on the problems of society and government and had made Comedy simply the vehicle of his reforming ideas; as a wise and discerning counsellor, who was competent to advise the citizens of Athens at a critical time on political questions and whose judgement of men and measures was sound; as a stern man withal, resolute in the performance of duty, the implacable and victorious foe of all, wherever found, who undermined the glory of Athens. This view, which Grote combated (History of Greece, lxvii), finds vigorous expression in the Apology of Robert Browning:
“Next, whom thrash?
Only the coarse fool and the clownish knave?
Higher, more artificial, composite
Offence should prove my prowess, eye and arm!
Not who robs henroost, tells of untaxed figs,
Spends all his substance on stewed ellops-fish,
Or gives a pheasant to his neighbour’s wife:
No! strike malpractice that affects the State,
The common weal — intriguer or poltroon,
Venality, corruption, what care I
If shrewd or witless merely? — so the thing
Lay sap to aught that made Athenai bright
And happy, change her customs, lead astray
Youth or age, play the demagogue at Pnux,
The sophist in Palaistra, or — what’s worst,
As widest mischief, — from the Theatre
Preach innovation, bring contempt on oaths,
Adorn licentiousness, despise the Cult.
Thus vaunts the poet, as Browning interprets him, just after the great victory won at Arginusae. “Sparta is at our feet, a new day dawns, the War is at an end. For Athens has at length learnt the bitter lesson she might have been spared had she yielded to my pleas for peace.” The actual history of the next twelve months is pathetic. The battle at Arginusae, in which Callicratidas fell, restored the maritime supremacy of Athens, but peace was not secured. The Spartans made overtures, but the Athenian people, paying small heed to the “good counsels” that their Poet had given them in the Acharnians, the Peace, the Lysistrata, and in other comedies no longer extant, followed the lead of drunken Cleophon and rejected the Spartan proposals, just as five years before they had committed the grave error of accepting his advice after the Athenian victory at Cyzicus. Sparta bestirred herself, Lysander was sent out, and within a year Athenian arms suffered irretrievable reverse at Aegospotami.
The poet’s counsels of peace were rejected. Peace came only with disaster. His “sage” solutions of many other burning questions were equally ineffective. If Aristophanes was working for reform, as a long line of learned interpreters of the poet have maintained, the result was lamentably disappointing: he succeeded in effecting not a single change. He wings the shafts of his incomparable wit at all the popular leaders of the day — Cleon, Hyperbolus, Peisander, Cleophon, Agyrrhius, in succession, and is reluctant to unstring his bow even when they are dead. But he drove no one of them from power; there is little evidence, indeed, that he damaged their influence or even disturbed their brazen self-confidence. Cleon, when the poet’s libellous personal abuse became even in his judgement indecent, promptly brought him to his knees.
“When Cleon pressed me hard and tanned my hide, and outsiders laughed to see the sport, I confess” — Aristophanes says in the Wasps— “I played the ape a bit.” He adds significantly that he failed to get popular support in this quarrel. The inference is that the people did not think badly of Cleon; but modern opinion of the popular leaders in Athens, formed on the evidence that Aristophanes is supposed to furnish, has been persistently unfavourable, and Cleon’s rehabilitation as a sagacious, if turbulent, statesman who consistently maintained the imperial policy of Pericles has been slow.
The poet vehemently protested, it has been said, against the New Education, and viewing the whole intellectual tendency of his time with alarm, pleaded for a restoration of the simple discipline that had moulded the morals and minds and manners of the hardy men who fought at Marathon. Furthermore, he clearly apprehended the evils inherent in the Athenian system of judicature, which committed the administration of justice to a horde of common men, ignorant of the law, swayed by the impulse of the moment, “monsters of caprice and injustice,” and ruthlessly exposed the unrighteousness of its proceedings. Finally, reverent of the best traditions of the st
age, he stood forth, it is alleged, as their uncompromising defender, and sternly resisted the innovations that were gradually changing the spirit and the form of tragedy during the last third of the’ century, and for a generation relentlessly pursued xii their chief exponent, concealing an attack that was meant to ruin him under the veil of caricature, parody, burlesque, and satire. But Socrates still frequented, winter and summer, the gymnasia, the market and the schools, and the Sophists continued to discourse and draw their pay; Philocleon, after a single experience of the pleasures of polite society, again forgathered with his cronies before the dawn of day and trudged away to Court; and Euripides, calmly disregarding the malicious strictures of his youthful critic, continued to write tragedy in his own manner and to present on the stage plays that were heard by the young men of Athens with wild acclaim.
This extreme conception of the function of Greek comedy as chiefly censorial and monitory has been modified with larger and more exact knowledge of the times in which the poet lived and of the conditions of life under which he wrote, but it has had unfortunate consequences. These plays have been regarded as a trustworthy source of information in establishing the facts of Greek history, biography, and institutions. So serious an interpretation of a form of literature of which the primary intention must always be entertainment and amusement inevitably obscured the poet’s elusive humour. A jest became a statement of fact, a caricature a portrait, a satire a document. The poet’s conception, clothed in a fantastical disguise that rivalled the grotesque dress of his own actors, has been essentially misapprehended in an entire play.
On the other hand the mistaken disposition, recently manifested, to regard Aristophanes simply as a jester and to deny that he had any other purpose than to provoke laughter is an extreme, though natural, reaction. This view denies at the same time, as might have been expected, the cathartic efficacy of Greek tragedy. The highest comedy, typed in the earlier plays of Aristophanes, and in some of the comedies of Molière, is regenerative, the purpose of Aristophanes in the Acharnians, in which the action turns upon the impossible and fantastic whimsy of an Athenian farmer securing peace with Sparta for himself and his family alone, is to ridicule the war-party. Nobody would have been more amused than the poet if he had been told that his play was to stop the fighting, but he did believe that the War was an evil, and so far his heart was honestly in his theme; and I have no doubt that many a man who had laughed uproariously at the peace-loving farmer set single-handed in the comedy against a quarrelsome chorus, a powerful general, the whole tribe of sycophants, and the demagogue Cleon in the background, went home from the play less content with, the course of his political leaders and longing in his heart for the good old days of peace. The instrument by which the poet probed the popular discontent was that most effective of all means when skilfully used — a laugh.