Aristophanes Peace 250

ed. F. W. Hall, ed. William M. Geldart

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Πόλεμος

ἰὼ Σικελία καὶ σὺ δʼ ὡς ἀπόλλυσαι.
250

Τρυγαῖος

οἵα πόλις τάλαινα διακναισθήσεται.

Πόλεμος

φέρʼ ἐπιχέω καὶ τὸ μέλι τουτὶ τἀττικόν.

Τρυγαῖος

οὗτος παραινῶ σοι μέλιτι χρῆσθἀτέρῳ.

τετρώβολον τοῦτʼ ἐστί· φείδου τἀττικοῦ.

Πόλεμος

παῖ παῖ Κυδοιμέ.
255

Κύδοιμος

τί με καλεῖς;

Πόλεμος

κλαύσει μακρά.

ἕστηκας ἀργός; οὑτοσί σοι κόνδυλος.

Κύδοιμος

ὡς δριμύς. οἴμοι μοι τάλας ὦ δέσποτα.

μῶν τῶν σκορόδων ἐνέβαλες ἐς τὸν κόνδυλον;

Πόλεμος

οἴσεις ἀλετρίβανον τρέχων;

Κύδοιμος

ἀλλʼ ὦ μέλε

οὐκ ἔστιν ἡμῖν· ἐχθὲς εἰσῳκίσμεθα.
260

Πόλεμος

οὔκουν παρʼ Ἀθηναίων μεταθρέξει ταχὺ πάνυ;

Κύδοιμος

ἔγωγε νὴ Δίʼ· εἰ δὲ μή γε, κλαύσομαι.

Τρυγαῖος

ἄγε δὴ τί δρῶμεν ὦ πόνηρʼ ἀνθρώπια;

ὁρᾶτε τὸν κίνδυνον ἡμῖν ὡς μέγας·

εἴπερ γὰρ ἥξει τὸν ἀλετρίβανον φέρων,
265

τούτῳ ταράξει τὰς πόλεις καθήμενος.

ἀλλʼ ὦ Διόνυσʼ ἀπόλοιτο καὶ μὴ ʼλθοι φέρων.

Πόλεμος

οὗτος.

Κύδοιμος

τί ἔστιν;

Πόλεμος

οὐ φέρεις;

Κύδοιμος

τὸ δεῖνα γὰρ

ἀπόλωλʼ Ἀθηναίοισιν ἁλετρίβανος,

ὁ βυρσοπώλης, ὃς ἐκύκα τὴν Ἑλλάδα.
270

Τρυγαῖος

εὖ γʼ ὦ πότνια δέσποινʼ Ἀθηναία ποιῶν

ἀπόλωλʼ ἐκεῖνος κἀν δέοντι τῇ πόλει,

ἢ πρίν γε τὸν μυττωτὸν ἡμῖν ἐγχέαι.

Πόλεμος

οὔκουν ἕτερον δῆτʼ ἐκ Λακεδαίμονος μέτει

ἀνύσας τι;
275

Κύδοιμος

ταῦτʼ ὦ δέσποθʼ.

Πόλεμος

ἧκέ νυν ταχύ.

Τρυγαῖος

ὦνδρες τί πεισόμεσθα; νῦν ἀγὼν μέγας.

ἀλλʼ εἴ τις ὑμῶν ἐν Σαμοθρᾴκῃ τυγχάνει

μεμυημένος, νῦν ἐστιν εὔξασθαι καλὸν

ἀποστραφῆναι τοῦ μετιόντος τὼ πόδε.

Κύδοιμος

οἴμοι τάλας, οἴμοι γε κἄτʼ οἴμοι μάλα.
280

Πόλεμος

τί ἔστι; μῶν οὐκ αὖ φέρεις;

Κύδοιμος

ἀπόλωλε γὰρ

καὶ τοῖς Λακεδαιμονίοισιν ἁλετρίβανος.

Πόλεμος

πῶς ὦ πανοῦργʼ;

Κύδοιμος

ἐς τἀπὶ Θρᾴκης χωρία

χρήσαντες ἑτέροις αὐτὸν εἶτʼ ἀπώλεσαν.

Τρυγαῖος

εὖ γʼ εὖ γε ποιήσαντες ὦ Διοσκόρω.
285

ἴσως ἂν εὖ γένοιτο· θαρρεῖτʼ ὦ βροτοί.

Πόλεμος

ἀπόφερε τὰ σκεύη λαβὼν ταυτὶ πάλιν·

ἐγὼ δὲ δοίδυκʼ εἰσιὼν ποιήσομαι.

Τρυγαῖος

νῦν τοῦτʼ ἐκεῖνʼ ἥκει τὸ Δάτιδος μέλος,

ὃ δεφόμενός ποτʼ ᾖδε τῆς μεσημβρίας,
290

ὡς ἥδομαι καὶ χαίρομαι κεὐφραίνομαι.

νῦν ἐστιν ἡμῖν ὦνδρες Ἕλληνες καλὸν

ἀπαλλαγεῖσι πραγμάτων τε καὶ μαχῶν

ἐξελκύσαι τὴν πᾶσιν Εἰρήνην φίλην,

πρὶν ἕτερον αὖ δοίδυκα κωλῦσαί τινα.
295

ἀλλʼ ὦ γεωργοὶ κἄμποροι καὶ τέκτονες

καὶ δημιουργοὶ καὶ μέτοικοι καὶ ξένοι

καὶ νησιῶται, δεῦρʼ ἴτʼ ὦ πάντες λεῴ,

ὡς τάχιστʼ ἄμας λαβόντες καὶ μοχλοὺς καὶ σχοινία·

νῦν γὰρ ἡμῖν ἁρπάσαι πάρεστιν ἀγαθοῦ δαίμονος.
300

Peace. Aristophanes. ed. F. W. Hall, ed. William M. Geldart. Oxford. 1906.

Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.

Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.

Current edition Perseus

Εἰρήνη (Greek) (Aristophanes. Aristophanis Comoediae, Vol. 1. Hall, F. W. and Geldart, William M., editors. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1906.)

Translations (1)

Peace (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Anonymous; 1938 compilation). Migrated from Perseus legacy XML; source wording and notes retained. See TEI header and migration inventory.) — 250 focus

War
throwing in some cheese.

250 Oh, Sicily ! you too must perish! Your wretched towns shall be grated like this cheese. Now let us pour some Attic honey into the mortar.

He does so.

Trygaeus
Aside.

Oh! I beseech you! use some other honey; this kind is worth four obols; be careful, oh! be careful of our Attic honey.

War

255 Hi! Tumult, you slave there!

Tumult

What do you want?

War

Out upon you! Standing there with folded arms! Take this cuff on the head for your pains.

Tumult

Oh! how it stings! Master, have you got garlic in your fist, I wonder?

War

Run and fetch me a pestle.

Tumult

But 260 we haven't got one; it was only yesterday we moved.

War

Go and fetch me one from Athens , and hurry, hurry!

Tumult

I'll hurry; if I return without one, I shall have no cause for laughing.

He runs off.

Trygaeus
To the audience.

Ah! what is to become of us, wretched mortals that we are? See the danger that threatens 265 if he returns with the pestle, for War will quietly amuse himself with pounding all the towns of Hellas to pieces. Ah! Bacchus! cause this herald of evil to perish on his road!

War
To the returning Tumult.

Well?

Tumult

Well, what?

War

You have brought back nothing?

Tumult

Alas! the Athenians have lost their pestle — 270 the tanner, who ground Greece to powder.

Trygaeus

Oh! Athena, venerable mistress! it is well for our city he is dead, and before he could serve us with this hash.

War

Then go and seek one at Sparta 275 and have done with it!

Tumult

Aye, aye, master!

He runs off.

War
Shouting after him.

Be back as quick as ever you can.

Trygaeus
to the audience.

What is going to happen, friends? This is the critical hour. Ah! if there is some initiate of Samothrace among you, this is surely the moment to wish this messenger some accident —some sprain or strain.

Tumult
returning.

280 Alas! alas! thrice again, alas!

War

What is it? Again you come back without it?

Tumult

The Spartans too have lost their pestle.

War

How, varlet?

Tumult

They had lent it to their allies in Thrace , who have lost it for them.

Trygaeus

285 Long life to you, Thracians! My hopes revive, pluck up courage, mortals!

War

Take all this stuff; I am going in to make a pestle for myself.

He goes in, followed by Tumult.

Trygaeus
Coming out of his hiding-place.

Now is the time to sing as Datis did, 290 as he masturbated at high noon, “Oh pleasure! oh enjoyment! oh delights!” Now, oh Greeks! is the moment when freed of quarrels and fighting, we should rescue sweet Peace and draw her out of this pit, 295 before some other pestle prevents us. Come, laborers, merchants, workmen, artisans, strangers, whether you be domiciled or not, islanders—

Come here, Greeks of all countries, come hurrying here with picks and levers and ropes! 300 This is the moment to drain a cup in honor of the Good Genius.