“It would require organization and simultaneous action.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I cannot think how you even begin to accomplish it.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes, I am. I admit that also. Acron would certainly beat me unmercifully and do as he pleased in spite of my protests.”
“This might be uncomfortable for you, but it would be little or no satisfaction to him. Passive resistance will accomplish wonders.”
“That’s easy enough to say, but in the matter of accommodation I confess that I invariably have an irresistible urge to cooperate actively.”
“Consider the ultimate objective, Calonice. Would you rather eat a seed than grow an olive tree?”
“Well, I refuse to become involved with figures of speech. They are only confusing to me and cause me to see virtues where none exist.”
At that moment another woman entered the court and hurried across it toward Lysistrata and Calonice. She was tall and rather angular and walked with a flurry of elbows and knees. It was Nausica, wife of Cadmus, and she was obviously bursting with curiosity.
“It is clear,” said Lysistrata, “that Cadmus has also had a report on affairs in my bed chamber, which he has promptly passed on, no doubt with embellishment, to our friend Nausica.”
“As you say,” said Calonice, “it’s clear.”
It was equally clear that Nausica had been walking rapidly and was short of breath. Without greetings, she began to speak in short bursts of words with little breaks between for gasps of air.
“Can you imagine, Lysistrata, what that fool husband of mine, Cadmus, has told me? The most preposterous story, I assure you. He has told me that you have refused accommodation to Lycon.”
“It’s true,” said Lysistrata. “I may as well admit it immediately.”
“You are just in time,” said Calonice, “to be the first disciple of our friend Lysistrata, which is an honor I willingly relinquish. She is planning a world rebellion of wives.”
“What’s this? What’s this? Explain yourself, please.”
“I mean that she plans to organize all the wives of all the citizens of all the countries involved in the Peloponnesian War into a great rebellion. No husband shall be accommodated until peace is assured.”
“What an absolute stroke of genius, Lysistrata! How ever did you think of it?”
“Well, it began with my personal grievances and developed quite naturally from there.”
“I knew at once that there was something more significant in this than Cadmus was willing to tell. The fool stuttered and stammered and related it most reluctantly. As a matter of fact, he volunteered nothing, and I had literally to force the truth from him after detecting that he was exceedingly disturbed. He is absolutely incapable of hiding his feelings, you know. What frightens him is that I may be influenced by the example.”
“Why should you be influenced?” said Calonice. “It is well known that Cadmus does not go to war.”
“True. He is like a grandmother with his ailments, none of which seem to handicap him in the least bit after dark. On the other hand, I have reached a time when accommodation, except on special occasions, is more of a nuisance than a pleasure. I think I should find Lysistrata’s rebellion exciting and satisfying, to say nothing of a relief.”
“Really?” said Lysistrata. “Do you consent, then, Nausica, to become my first disciple?”
“I do. I declare this instant that I do.”
“Good. I welcome you to the cause, and I must say that I admire you more than certain other people I could mention.”
“Thank you. I believe, however, that this rebellion can never be sustained in the home. The wives could not hold out. We must fortify ourselves, Lysistrata.”
“I agree that we must remove ourselves from temptation, and also from accessibility.”
“What place do you suggest?”
“There is only one place adequate.”
“Not the Acropolis!”
“Nothing else.”
“Lysistrata, you are becoming more and more daring all the time. Could it be managed?”
“I’m convinced that it could. The Acropolis is in the custody of old men who should be easily expelled by sufficiently determined women.”
“Why, I am all over goose pimples in anticipation of it! We must work out our strategy most carefully.”
“You are certainly right. Let us go inside and discuss it and have a little wine.”
“I shall come, too,” said Calonice, “although I feel that I am sure to regret it later.”
9
Lycon wandered disconsolately around the square. The babble of voices and the ascendant cries of vendors, always previously so melodious in his ears, now struck him as a hideous cacophony. The antics of the clowns were the gyrations and contortions of a kind of sinister madness. The flower girls, in spite of romantic nonsense of poets to the contrary, were vulgar wenches without grace or glamour. Nothing was bright, nothing was sane, nothing was pleasing to the senses. It was absolutely intolerable, he thought, to submit any longer to such monstrous distortions of reality. Or of what he had once considered reality. The truth was, he had become so confused and depressed by events that he no longer had any faith in his ability to distinguish between what was real or normal and what was not. The only thing he knew with certainty was that he must return to Pylos at once for the sake of his dignity, if not for his very sanity. He had never before thought of Pylos as a refuge, but he did so now.
Looking ahead, he was suddenly aware of Acron approaching. Having no desire whatever to see or talk with Acron at this time, he ducked into a convenient lounge, but it was no use. Acron had seen him, and followed him immediately into the lounge.
“Lycon,” he said, “I hope I am mistaken, for the sake of our long friendship, but I had the distinct impression just now that you were trying to avoid me.”
“Avoid you?” said Lycon. “Why in the world should I want to avoid you?”
“You know very well why you want to avoid me, and I assure you that you are wasting time in trying to evade the issue. It is not an act of friendship to be so deceptive.”
“To my knowledge, I have not deceived you in any way, and I’d appreciate your being specific, at least, if you feel compelled to abuse me.”
“Oh, such dissemblance! Shame on you, Lycon! Do you deny that you have gotten us into the most humiliating and distressing mess through your inability to control things at home?”
“I don’t deny that I am in such a mess, which is truly humiliating, as you say, but I don’t see why you should be excessively disturbed about it.”
“I declare, Lycon, you are either the most artful dodger in the world, or you are truly ignorant of what has developed.”
“If anything at all has developed, I am certainly ignorant of it.”
“Then permit me to inform you that Calonice has been converted to Lysistrata’s treachery.”
“You mean she has refused to accommodate you?”
“What else could I mean? Furthermore, I am convinced that she would never have adopted such a monstrous attitude, or even have thought of it, if she had not been subjected to Lysistrata’s influence. You are therefore responsible, Lycon, and must answer for it.”
“In what way can I be held responsible for someone who is obviously irrational? It’s not my fault, Acron, that you are being deprived of pleasure. Besides, as you well know, I have troubles of my own, and am not inclined at this time to assume yours.”
“If your dog goes mad and bites a neighbor, you’re responsible, aren’t you? Of course, you are. And a man is certainly as responsible for his wife as he is for his dog. The only difference that I can see is that a wife’s defections are likely to have more serious consequences.”