“In a moment. First, however, I must speak to Lampito of Sparta, who is my friend.
“Lampito, you are truly lovely and look no older than when I last saw you, quite a long while ago. How on earth do you manage it?”
“Thank you, Lysistrata. You are also looking lovely, I must say. As to how I manage it, you know that Spartans are expected to take exercises regularly and keep in good shape.”
“Well, your shape is certainly good. There’s no question about that.”
Lysistrata turned to another woman who stood a little to the side of the Spartan.
“How stout you are!” she said. “Please tell me where you are from.”
“I am a Corinthian.”
“Truly? I have heard that the women of Corinth apply themselves to nothing but frivolity and are given greatly to prostitution. I am happy to see that this is not true in all cases.”
“Lysistrata,” said Myrrhine, “I am losing all patience. I swear I am. I am criticized and practically insulted because I am a trifle tardy, and now you seem determined to delay us indefinitely while you admire Spartan figures and comment on the bad habits of Corinthians. Will you tell us what you want, or will you not?”
“I am about ready to tell you. First, however, I must have the answer to a question. Would you like to see the war ended?”
“The Peloponnesian War?”
“Certainly. What other war is there?”
“None that I am aware of. I was only surprised to hear you speaking of its ending as if it were a possibility. It has been going on for as long as I can remember and will no doubt continue. It is as firmly established, so far as I can see, as this hill we stand on.”
“Nevertheless, would you like to see it ended?”
“I must say, Lysistrata, that I consider that a foolish question. The war is clearly an absolute bore that deprives us of much pleasure we would have without it. Of course, being sensible women, we would like to see it ended.”
“So we are agreed. I tell you, then, that I have called you here to enlist your collaboration in accomplishing what we all want.”
“The end of the war?”
“Please don’t be so obtuse, Myrrhine. That is clearly what I mean, and I should not be required to repeat it endlessly.”
“I am all for it,” said Lampito, “if it can be accomplished. I have had so little pleasure of my husband that he is more of an aggravation than a satisfaction. He comes home to make use of me, and then is gone again immediately to some silly place to resume the war. Besides being an aggravation, it is also rather degrading, to tell the truth.”
“There is your mistake, Lampito. When he comes for accommodation, you should refuse it.”
“What? Refuse accommodation? You are surely mad, Lysistrata.”
“Yes,” said Myrrhine, “it is quite obvious that you are not thinking rationally, Lysistrata. Our principal complaint is that requests of accommodation are much too infrequent, and you would solve our problem by eliminating them entirely. The accommodation, at least, if not the requests. This is going into the fire from the pan and is, in my judgment, in no way sensible.”
“On the contrary, it is quite sensible.”
“How is it sensible?”
“Yes, Lysistrata,” said Lampito, “do explain it.”
“Gladly,” said Lysistrata, “if you will only stop chattering long enough. It is sensible because it will, after a period of sacrifice on our parts, bring about a period of plenty. We rebel, in brief, until the men meet our terms, which is peace for all. When peace is secured, as it will be if we are only sufficiently determined in this cause, our men will be at home to give us pleasure frequently instead of only once in a while.”
“Lysistrata,” said Lampito, “you are ingenious and daring, if nothing else, and I admit that you have a point. Has such a thing ever been tried before? Will it work, do you think?”
“Calonice and Nausica and I have tried it, and it works.”
“Actually?” said Myrrhine. “Have you actually refused accommodation? My husband would surely beat me.”
“I was beaten by Acron,” said Calonice, “but I was surprisingly strong and refused to concede. Isn’t that true, Lysistrata?”
“It is,” said Lysistrata. “On the other hand, instead of being beaten herself, Nausica took a heavy stick to Cadmus, her husband. This may be possible in certain other instances.”
“As for me,” said Lampito, “I confess that I am becoming quite excited and would be willing to try it for the sake of peace if it were not for one thing which disturbs me. I have confidence in our ability in Sparta to bring our men to terms, once we are organized, but I doubt that Athenians will ever become peaceable for any reason whatever so long as they have a trireme or a drachma.”
“In reply to that,” said Lysistrata, “permit me to inform you that we have already taken the Acropolis, and it is even now in the hands of Nausica and her stout troops. Since the treasury of Athens, every drachma, is kept there in the Shrine of Athene, we control the public funds, as well as private accommodation, and nothing of either, believe me, shall be issued.”
“If this is true, I am fully convinced.”
“It’s perfectly true, and Calonice will verify it.”
“Not only is it true,” said Calonice, “but we are expecting a counterattack of old men at any time. Consequently, we had better conclude our deliberations as quickly as possible.”
“In that case,” said Lampito, “I am fully converted to the cause, and I shall return to Sparta at once to organize the rebellion personally. I promise the brave wives of Athens our fullest support.”
“I, too,” said the woman of Corinth. “I shall have all female Corinthians behind me in jig time.”
“How about the others?” said Lysistrata. “Are Boeotia and all the others with us?”
“So far as I can see,” said Lampito, “there is absolutely no use in wasting time calling the roll, especially if the old men are due to return for battle, as you say. We are all united, that’s plain, and we had better bind ourselves to the compact by oath immediately. Is that a skin of wine lying there on the ground?”
“Yes, it is. And that’s a large bowl beside it. Being women and therefore sensible, we shall slit the skin instead of a sheep, and swear in wine instead of blood. This is not only as effective, but a great deal more pleasant and economical.”
“It truly is,” said Lampito. “It is clearly evident already that affairs immediately improve the instant we women begin to assert ourselves. What shall we swear?”
“Simply that neither husband nor lover shall be accommodated until peace is secured for all on honorable terms.”
“Well,” said Lampito, “I am sure that I speak for all in agreeing unconditionally, and I am compelled to say that the sight of the skin has my tongue hanging quite out of my mouth. Fill the bowl at once, Calonice!”
12
The old men toiled up the hill of the Acropolis. Straggling in a long line on the steep zig-zag path, carrying enormous flaming faggots with which they proposed, if necessary, to burn down the gates, they creaked and grumbled and cursed in their beards. At the head of the ragged column, accompanied by an old fellow whose name was Draces, was no one but Cadmus. Whenever they stopped to rest, which was frequently, Draces would berate Cadmus thoroughly, and the latter was of the opinion that he had surely been subjected to all the humiliation and abuse any one man should be called upon to bear, especially a man who was basically a philosopher and asked little of life except peace and wine and an occasional pleasant feast of eels.