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Peace [11]

By Root 139 0
to war with lice; and as for

those Heracleses, always chewing and ever hungry, he was the first

to cover them with ridicule and to chase them from the stage; he has

also dismissed that slave, whom one never failed to set weeping before

you, so that his comrade might have the chance of jeering at his

stripes and might ask, "Wretch, what has happened to your hide? Has

the lash rained an army of its thongs on you and laid your back

waste?" After having delivered us from all these wearisome ineptitudes

and these low buffooneries, he has built up for us a great art, like a

palace with high towers, constructed of fine phrases, great thoughts

and of jokes not common on the streets. Moreover it's not obscure

private persons or women that he stages in his comedies; but, bold

as Heracles, it's the very greatest whom he attacks, undeterred by the

fetid stink of leather or the threats of hearts of mud. He has the

right to say, "I am the first ever dared to go straight for that beast

with the sharp teeth and the terrible eyes that flashed lambent fire

like those of Cynna, surrounded by a hundred lewd flatterers, who

spittle-licked him to his heart's content; it had a voice like a

roaring torrent, the stench of a seal, the unwashed balls of a Lamia

and the arse of a camel. I did not recoil in horror at the sight of

such a monster, but fought him relentlessly to win your deliverance

and that of the islanders." Such are the services which should be

graven in your recollection and entitle me to your thanks. Yet I

have not been seen frequenting the wrestling school intoxicated with

success and trying to seduce young boys; but I took all my

theatrical gear and returned straight home. I pained folk but little

and caused them much amusement; my conscience rebuked me for

nothing. (More and more rapidly from here on) Hence both grown men and

youths should be on my side and I likewise invite the bald to give

me their votes; for, if I triumph, everyone will say, both at table

and at festivals, "Carry this to the bald man, give these cakes to the

bald one, do not grudge the poet whose talent shines as bright as

his own bare skull the share he deserves."

FIRST SEMI-CHORUS (singing)

Oh, Muse! drive the war far from our city and come to preside over

our dances, if you love me; come and celebrate the nuptials of the

gods, the banquets of us mortals and the festivals of the fortunate;

these are the themes that inspire thy most poetic songs. And should

Carcinus come to beg thee for admission with his sons to thy chorus,

refuse all traffic with them; remember they are but gelded birds,

stork-necked dancers, mannikins about as tall as a goat's turd, in

fact machine-made poets. Contrary to all expectation, the father has

at last managed to finish a piece, but he admits that a cat

strangled it one fine evening.

SECOND SEMI-CHORUS (singing)

Such are the songs with which the Muse with the glorious hair

inspires the able poet and which enchant the assembled populace,

when the spring swallow twitters beneath the foliage; but the god

spare us from the chorus of Morsimus and that of Melanthius! Oh!

what a bitter discordancy grated upon my ears that day when the tragic

chorus was directed by this same Melanthius and his brother, these two

Gorgons, these two Harpies, the plague of the seas, whose gluttonous

bellies devour the entire race of fishes, these followers of old

women, these goats with their stinking arm-pits. Oh! Muse, spit upon

them abundantly and keep the feast gaily with me.

(TRYGAEUS enters, limping painfully, accompanied by OPORA and

THEORIA.)

TRYGAEUS

Ah! it's a rough job getting to the gods! my legs are as good as

broken through it. (To the audience) How small you were, to be sure,

when seen from heaven! you had all the appearance too of being great

rascals; but seen close, you look even worse.

SERVANT (coming out of TRYGAEUS' house)
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