‘The Peace’ was brought out four years after ‘The Acharnians,’ when the war had already lasted ten years. This was not long before the conclusion of that treaty between the two great contending powers which men hoped was to hold good for fifty years, known as the Peace of Nicias. The leading idea of the plot is the same as in the previous comedy; the intense longing, on the part of the more domestic and less ambitious citizens, for relief from the prolonged miseries of the war. Trygæus,--whose name suggests the lost merriment of the vintage,--finding no help in men, has resolved to undertake an expedition in his own person, to heaven, to expostulate with Jupiter for allowing this wretched state of things to go on. With this object in view (after some previous attempts with a ladder, which, owing to the want of anything like a _point d’appui_, have naturally resulted in some awkward falls), he has fed and trained a dung-beetle, which is to carry him up to the Olympian throne; there being an ancient fable to the effect that the creature had once upon a time made his way there in pursuit of his enemy the eagle.[23] It is a burlesque upon the aerial journey of Bellerophon on Pegasus, as represented in one of the popular tragedies of Euripides; and Trygæus addresses his strange steed as his “little Pegasus” accordingly. Mounted in this strange fashion, to the great alarm of his two daughters, he makes his appearance on the stage, and is raised bodily through the air, with many soothing speeches to the beetle, and a private “aside” to the machinist of the theatre to take great care of him, lest like his predecessor Bellerophon he should fall down and break his leg, and so furnish Euripides with another crippled hero for a tragedy. By some change of scenery he is next represented as having reached the door of Jupiter’s palace, where Mercury, as the servant in waiting, comes out to answer his knock. _Mercury_ (_looks round and sniffs_). What’s this I smell--a mortal? (_Sees Trygæus on his beetle._) O, great Hercules! What horrible beast is this? _Tryg._ A beetle-horse. _Merc._ O you abominable, impudent, shameless beast! You cursed, cursed, thrice accursed sinner! How came you up here? what business have you here? O you abomination of abominations, Speak--what’s your name? D’ye hear? _Tryg._ Abomination. _Merc._ What place d’ye come from? _Tryg._ From Abomination. _Merc._ (_rather puzzled_). Eh?--what’s your father’s name? _Tryg._ Abomination. _Merc._ (_in a fury_). Look here now,--by the Earth, you die this minute, Unless you tell me your accursed name. _Tryg._ Well--I’m Trygæus of Athmon; I can prune A vine with any man--that’s all. I’m no informer, I do assure you; I hate law like poison. _Merc._ And what have you come here for? _Tryg._ (_pulling something out of a bag_). Well, you see, I’ve brought you this beefsteak.