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Line 439

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Πάνδροσον ταύτῃ μόνον

The oath formula 'νὴ τὴν Πάνδροσον' invokes the Panhellenic sanctuary of the Panhellenion, but the specific phrasing 'τὴν Πάνδροσον' (referring to the female figure Panhellenion) is a rare metonymic usage for the sanctuary itself, characteristic of Aristophanic comic hyperbole. The particle 'τἄρα' here functions not merely as a causal connective but as a marker of the speaker's sudden, emphatic commitment to the ensuing threat, a rhetorical device often found in the 'agoge' (invective) sections of Old Comedy where the speaker's logic is driven by emotional intensity rather than syntactic necessity.

Lysistrata. Aristophanes. . 2026-09-08.

Current edition Experimental

Commentary (Sanjaya, generated; selected passages) (OCR draft) (English) (Source: pnadelofficial/aristophanes-sanjaya, commit c319590c139e5603e71f0699caa0663d823af8ad. Machine-generated source annotations retained; see Sanjaya import audit for coverage and limitations.)

Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.

Editions (1)

Λυσιστράτη Perseus (Aristophanes. Aristophanis Comoediae, Vol. 2. Hall, F. W. and Geldart, William M., editors. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1907.) — 443 focus

Γυνὴ Β

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Φωσφόρον τὴν χεῖρʼ ἄκραν

ταύτῃ προσοίσεις, κύαθον αἰτήσεις τάχα.

Πρόβουλος

τουτὶ τί ἦν; ποῦ τοξότης; ταύτης ἔχου.
445

παύσω τινʼ ὑμῶν τῆσδʼ ἐγὼ τῆς ἐξόδου.

Γυνὴ Γ

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Ταυροπόλον ταύτῃ πρόσει,

ἐκκοκκιῶ σου τὰς στενοκωκύτους τρίχας.

Πρόβουλος

οἴμοι κακοδαίμων· ἐπιλέλοιφʼ ὁ τοξότης.

ἀτὰρ οὐ γυναικῶν οὐδέποτʼ ἔσθʼ ἡττητέα
450

ἡμῖν· ὁμόσε χωρῶμεν αὐταῖς ὦ Σκύθαι

ξυνταξάμενοι.

Λυσιστράτη

νὴ τὼ θεὼ γνώσεσθʼ ἄρα

ὅτι καὶ παρʼ ἡμῖν εἰσι τέτταρες λόχοι

μαχίμων γυναικῶν ἔνδον ἐξωπλισμένων.

Πρόβουλος

ἀποστρέφετε τὰς χεῖρας αὐτῶν ὦ Σκύθαι.
455

Λυσιστράτη

ὦ ξύμμαχοι γυναῖκες ἐκθεῖτʼ ἔνδοθεν,

ὦ σπερμαγοραιολεκιθολαχανοπώλιδες,

ὦ σκοροδοπανδοκευτριαρτοπώλιδες,

οὐχ ἕλξετʼ, οὐ παιήσετʼ, οὐκ ἀράξετε;

οὐ λοιδορήσετʼ, οὐκ ἀναισχυντήσετε;
460

παύσασθʼ, ἐπαναχωρεῖτε, μὴ σκυλεύετε.

Πρόβουλος

οἴμʼ ὡς κακῶς πέπραγέ μου τὸ τοξικόν.

Λυσιστράτη

ἀλλὰ τί γὰρ ᾤου; πότερον ἐπὶ δούλας τινὰς

ἥκειν ἐνόμισας, ἢ γυναιξὶν οὐκ οἴει

χολὴν ἐνεῖναι;
465

Πρόβουλος

νὴ τὸν Ἀπόλλω καὶ μάλα

πολλήν γʼ, ἐάνπερ πλησίον κάπηλος ᾖ.

Translations (2)

Lysistrata (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Jack Lindsay). Migrated from Perseus legacy XML; source wording and notes retained. See TEI header and migration inventory.) — 443 focus

MYRRHINE

By Phosphor, if your hand moves out her way

You'd better have a surgeon somewhere handy.

MAGISTRATE

You too! Where is that archer? Take that woman.

I'll put a stop to these surprise-parties.
500

STRATYLLIS

By the Tauric Artemis, one inch nearer

My fingers, and it's a bald man that'll be yelling.

MAGISTRATE

Tut tut, what's here? Deserted by my archers....

But surely women never can defeat us;

Close up your ranks, my Scythians. Forward at them.
505

LYSISTRATA

By the Goddesses, you'll find that here await you

Four companies of most pugnacious women

Armed cap-a-pie from the topmost louring curl

To the lowest angry dimple.

MAGISTRATE

On, Scythians, bind them.
510

LYSISTRATA

On, gallant allies of our high design,

Vendors of grain-eggs-pulse-and-vegetables,

Ye garlic-tavern-keepers of bakeries,

Strike, batter, knock, hit, slap, and scratch our foes,

Be finely imprudent, say what you think of them....
515

Enough! retire and do not rob the dead.

MAGISTRATE

How basely did my archer-force come off.

LYSISTRATA

Ah, ha, you thought it was a herd of slaves

You had to tackle, and you didn't guess

The thirst for glory ardent in our blood.
520

MAGISTRATE

By Apollo, I know well the thirst that heats you—

Especially when a wine-skin's close.

English (Sanjaya, generated; selected passages) (OCR draft) Experimental (Source: pnadelofficial/aristophanes-sanjaya, commit c319590c139e5603e71f0699caa0663d823af8ad. Machine-generated source annotations retained; see Sanjaya import audit for coverage and limitations.) — 443 focus

Woman B: If, by Zeus the Dawn-bringer, I break my hand!

Woman B: you will come over to this one, and you will ask for a ladle, perhaps.

Probulus: What was this? Where is the archer? Seize her.

445

Probulus: I will stop one of you from this departure.

Woman G: If, by the goddess of the Tauroi, she approaches here,

Woman G: I will dye your narrow-screaming hair red.

Probulus: Alas, wretched me! The archer has disappeared.

Probulus: But women are never to be defeated.

450

Probulus: For us; let us go over there with them, O Scythians.

Proboulos: Let us join forces.

Lysistrata: By the two goddesses, you shall know, then.

Lysistrata: because there are also four platoons among us.

Lysistrata: women within, armed for battle.

Probulus: Turn away your hands, Scythians.

455

Lysistrata: O women allies, throw [them] out from within,

Lysistrata: O seed-, pea-, bean-, and vegetable-sellers,

Lysistrata: Oh, garlic-cook-and-baker-women!

Lysistrata: You will not drag it, you will not beat it, you will not coax it?

Lysistrata: You will not abuse [us], you will not be shameless?

460

Lysistrata: Stop, withdraw, do not plunder.

Proboulos: Alas! how badly my arrow has fared.

Lysistrata: But what did you think? Whether it was against some slaves

Lysistrata: You thought I was coming, or do you not think so for the women?

Lysistrata: Is there bile?

465

Probulus: By Apollo, indeed!

Proboulos: Indeed, a great deal, if only the huckster is nearby.

Commentary

Commentary (Sanjaya, generated; selected passages) (OCR draft) (Source: pnadelofficial/aristophanes-sanjaya, commit c319590c139e5603e71f0699caa0663d823af8ad. Machine-generated source annotations retained; see Sanjaya import audit for coverage and limitations.) focus

439. mvp-tlg0019-tlg007-sanjaya-com-eng1-11

Line 439

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Πάνδροσον ταύτῃ μόνον

Aristophanes Lysistrata 439

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Line 439

Current edition Experimental

Γυνὴ Β

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Φωσφόρον τὴν χεῖρʼ ἄκραν

ταύτῃ προσοίσεις, κύαθον αἰτήσεις τάχα.

Πρόβουλος

τουτὶ τί ἦν; ποῦ τοξότης; ταύτης ἔχου.
445

παύσω τινʼ ὑμῶν τῆσδʼ ἐγὼ τῆς ἐξόδου.

Γυνὴ Γ

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Ταυροπόλον ταύτῃ πρόσει,

ἐκκοκκιῶ σου τὰς στενοκωκύτους τρίχας.

Πρόβουλος

οἴμοι κακοδαίμων· ἐπιλέλοιφʼ ὁ τοξότης.

ἀτὰρ οὐ γυναικῶν οὐδέποτʼ ἔσθʼ ἡττητέα
450

ἡμῖν· ὁμόσε χωρῶμεν αὐταῖς ὦ Σκύθαι

ξυνταξάμενοι.

Λυσιστράτη

νὴ τὼ θεὼ γνώσεσθʼ ἄρα

ὅτι καὶ παρʼ ἡμῖν εἰσι τέτταρες λόχοι

μαχίμων γυναικῶν ἔνδον ἐξωπλισμένων.

Πρόβουλος

ἀποστρέφετε τὰς χεῖρας αὐτῶν ὦ Σκύθαι.
455

Πρόβουλος

οἴμʼ ὡς κακῶς πέπραγέ μου τὸ τοξικόν.

Λυσιστράτη

ἀλλὰ τί γὰρ ᾤου; πότερον ἐπὶ δούλας τινὰς

ἥκειν ἐνόμισας, ἢ γυναιξὶν οὐκ οἴει

χολὴν ἐνεῖναι;
465

Πρόβουλος

νὴ τὸν Ἀπόλλω καὶ μάλα

πολλήν γʼ, ἐάνπερ πλησίον κάπηλος ᾖ.

MYRRHINE

By Phosphor, if your hand moves out her way

You'd better have a surgeon somewhere handy.

MAGISTRATE

You too! Where is that archer? Take that woman.

I'll put a stop to these surprise-parties.
500

STRATYLLIS

By the Tauric Artemis, one inch nearer

My fingers, and it's a bald man that'll be yelling.

MAGISTRATE

Tut tut, what's here? Deserted by my archers....

But surely women never can defeat us;

Close up your ranks, my Scythians. Forward at them.
505

LYSISTRATA

By the Goddesses, you'll find that here await you

Four companies of most pugnacious women

Armed cap-a-pie from the topmost louring curl

To the lowest angry dimple.

MAGISTRATE

On, Scythians, bind them.
510

LYSISTRATA

On, gallant allies of our high design,

Vendors of grain-eggs-pulse-and-vegetables,

Ye garlic-tavern-keepers of bakeries,

Strike, batter, knock, hit, slap, and scratch our foes,

Be finely imprudent, say what you think of them....
515

Enough! retire and do not rob the dead.

MAGISTRATE

How basely did my archer-force come off.

LYSISTRATA

Ah, ha, you thought it was a herd of slaves

You had to tackle, and you didn't guess

The thirst for glory ardent in our blood.
520

MAGISTRATE

By Apollo, I know well the thirst that heats you—

Especially when a wine-skin's close.

Commentary

Line 439

Stable identifiers

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Line 439

Current edition Experimental

Γυνὴ Β εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Φωσφόρον τὴν χεῖρʼ ἄκραν ταύτῃ προσοίσεις, κύαθον αἰτήσεις τάχα.

Πρόβουλος τουτὶ τί ἦν; ποῦ τοξότης; ταύτης ἔχου. 445 παύσω τινʼ ὑμῶν τῆσδʼ ἐγὼ τῆς ἐξόδου.

Γυνὴ Γ εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Ταυροπόλον ταύτῃ πρόσει, ἐκκοκκιῶ σου τὰς στενοκωκύτους τρίχας.

Πρόβουλος οἴμοι κακοδαίμων· ἐπιλέλοιφʼ ὁ τοξότης. ἀτὰρ οὐ γυναικῶν οὐδέποτʼ ἔσθʼ ἡττητέα 450 ἡμῖν· ὁμόσε χωρῶμεν αὐταῖς ὦ Σκύθαι ξυνταξάμενοι.

Λυσιστράτη νὴ τὼ θεὼ γνώσεσθʼ ἄρα ὅτι καὶ παρʼ ἡμῖν εἰσι τέτταρες λόχοι μαχίμων γυναικῶν ἔνδον ἐξωπλισμένων.

Πρόβουλος ἀποστρέφετε τὰς χεῖρας αὐτῶν ὦ Σκύθαι. 455

Πρόβουλος οἴμʼ ὡς κακῶς πέπραγέ μου τὸ τοξικόν.

Λυσιστράτη ἀλλὰ τί γὰρ ᾤου; πότερον ἐπὶ δούλας τινὰς ἥκειν ἐνόμισας, ἢ γυναιξὶν οὐκ οἴει χολὴν ἐνεῖναι; 465

Πρόβουλος νὴ τὸν Ἀπόλλω καὶ μάλα πολλήν γʼ, ἐάνπερ πλησίον κάπηλος ᾖ.

MYRRHINE By Phosphor, if your hand moves out her way You'd better have a surgeon somewhere handy.

MAGISTRATE You too! Where is that archer? Take that woman. I'll put a stop to these surprise-parties. 500

STRATYLLIS By the Tauric Artemis, one inch nearer My fingers, and it's a bald man that'll be yelling.

MAGISTRATE Tut tut, what's here? Deserted by my archers.... But surely women never can defeat us; Close up your ranks, my Scythians. Forward at them. 505

LYSISTRATA By the Goddesses, you'll find that here await you Four companies of most pugnacious women Armed cap-a-pie from the topmost louring curl To the lowest angry dimple.

MAGISTRATE On, Scythians, bind them. 510

LYSISTRATA On, gallant allies of our high design, Vendors of grain-eggs-pulse-and-vegetables, Ye garlic-tavern-keepers of bakeries, Strike, batter, knock, hit, slap, and scratch our foes, Be finely imprudent, say what you think of them.... 515 Enough! retire and do not rob the dead.

MAGISTRATE How basely did my archer-force come off.

LYSISTRATA Ah, ha, you thought it was a herd of slaves You had to tackle, and you didn't guess The thirst for glory ardent in our blood. 520

MAGISTRATE By Apollo, I know well the thirst that heats you— Especially when a wine-skin's close.

Commentary

Line 439

Stable identifiers

Γυνὴ Β

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Φωσφόρον τὴν χεῖρʼ ἄκραν

ταύτῃ προσοίσεις, κύαθον αἰτήσεις τάχα.

Πρόβουλος

τουτὶ τί ἦν; ποῦ τοξότης; ταύτης ἔχου.
445

παύσω τινʼ ὑμῶν τῆσδʼ ἐγὼ τῆς ἐξόδου.

Γυνὴ Γ

εἴ τἄρα νὴ τὴν Ταυροπόλον ταύτῃ πρόσει,

ἐκκοκκιῶ σου τὰς στενοκωκύτους τρίχας.

Πρόβουλος

οἴμοι κακοδαίμων· ἐπιλέλοιφʼ ὁ τοξότης.

ἀτὰρ οὐ γυναικῶν οὐδέποτʼ ἔσθʼ ἡττητέα
450

ἡμῖν· ὁμόσε χωρῶμεν αὐταῖς ὦ Σκύθαι

ξυνταξάμενοι.

Λυσιστράτη

νὴ τὼ θεὼ γνώσεσθʼ ἄρα

ὅτι καὶ παρʼ ἡμῖν εἰσι τέτταρες λόχοι

μαχίμων γυναικῶν ἔνδον ἐξωπλισμένων.

Πρόβουλος

ἀποστρέφετε τὰς χεῖρας αὐτῶν ὦ Σκύθαι.
455

Πρόβουλος

οἴμʼ ὡς κακῶς πέπραγέ μου τὸ τοξικόν.

Λυσιστράτη

ἀλλὰ τί γὰρ ᾤου; πότερον ἐπὶ δούλας τινὰς

ἥκειν ἐνόμισας, ἢ γυναιξὶν οὐκ οἴει

χολὴν ἐνεῖναι;
465

Πρόβουλος

νὴ τὸν Ἀπόλλω καὶ μάλα

πολλήν γʼ, ἐάνπερ πλησίον κάπηλος ᾖ.

MYRRHINE

By Phosphor, if your hand moves out her way

You'd better have a surgeon somewhere handy.

MAGISTRATE

You too! Where is that archer? Take that woman.

I'll put a stop to these surprise-parties.
500

STRATYLLIS

By the Tauric Artemis, one inch nearer

My fingers, and it's a bald man that'll be yelling.

MAGISTRATE

Tut tut, what's here? Deserted by my archers....

But surely women never can defeat us;

Close up your ranks, my Scythians. Forward at them.
505

LYSISTRATA

By the Goddesses, you'll find that here await you

Four companies of most pugnacious women

Armed cap-a-pie from the topmost louring curl

To the lowest angry dimple.

MAGISTRATE

On, Scythians, bind them.
510

LYSISTRATA

On, gallant allies of our high design,

Vendors of grain-eggs-pulse-and-vegetables,

Ye garlic-tavern-keepers of bakeries,

Strike, batter, knock, hit, slap, and scratch our foes,

Be finely imprudent, say what you think of them....
515

Enough! retire and do not rob the dead.

MAGISTRATE

How basely did my archer-force come off.

LYSISTRATA

Ah, ha, you thought it was a herd of slaves

You had to tackle, and you didn't guess

The thirst for glory ardent in our blood.
520

MAGISTRATE

By Apollo, I know well the thirst that heats you—

Especially when a wine-skin's close.