Art; English literature -- History and criticism; Literature -- History and criticism
tesde graos ten gnathon], beat down this "monstrous regiment of women."
Aristophanes was a staunch Conservative, but he disliked a stupid
argument wherever he found it. He cared intensely about politics, but he
could not easily forget that he was an artist. Neither the men nor the
women are tied up and peppered with the small shot of his wit; they are
allowed to betray themselves. The art consists in selecting from the
mass of their opinions and sentiments what is most significant, and
making the magistrate, who speaks for the party, deliver himself of
judicious commonplaces. The chorus of wiseacres, the bar-parlour
politicians, whom chance or misfortune has led to favour one side rather
than the other, are less cautious without being less platitudinous.
Their talk is all of "inevitable war" and "stripping for the fray,"
"vindicating rights," "tyranny" and "traitors," "spoliation,"
"innovation," and "striking good blows for the cause"; at least it was
twenty-three hundred years ago.
_Men Chorus._
This is not a time for slumber;
now let all be bold and free,
Strip to meet the great occasion,
vindicate our rights with me.
I can smell a deep, surprising
Tide of Revolution rising,
Odour as of folk devising
Hippias's tyranny.
And I feel a dire misgiving,
Lest some false Laconians, meeting
in the house of Cleisthenes,
Have inspired these wretched women
all our wealth and pay to seize.
Pay from whence I get my living.
Gods! to hear these shallow wenches
taking citizens to task,
Prattling of a brassy buckler,
jabbering of a martial casque!
Gods! to think that they have ventured
with Laconian men to deal,
Men of just the faith and honour
that a ravening wolf might feel!
Plots they're hatching, plots contriving,
plots of rampant Tyranny;
But o'er US they shan't be Tyrants,
no, for on my guard I'll be,
And I'll dress my sword in myrtle,
and with firm and dauntless hand,
Here beside Aristogeiton
resolutely take my stand,
Marketing in arms beside him.
This the time and this the place
When my patriot arm must deal a
--blow upon that woman's face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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