Come, friends, none but husbandmen on the rope.
Ah I that will do ever so much better.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
He says the thing is going well. Come, all of you, together and
with a will.
It's the husbandmen who are doing all the work.
Come then, come, and all together!
Hah! hah! at last there is some unanimity in the work.
Don't let us give up, let us redouble our efforts.
There! now we have it!
Come then, all together! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave!
Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! Heave away, heave! All together!
(PEACE is drawn out of the pit. With her come OPORA and THEORIA.)
Oh! venerated goddess, who givest us our grapes, where am I to
find the ten-thousand-gallon words wherewith to greet thee? I have
none such at home. Oh! hail to thee, Opora, and thee, Theoria! How
beautiful is thy face! How sweet thy breath! What gentle fragrance
comes from thy bosom, gentle as freedom from military duty, as the
most dainty perfumes!
Is it then a smell like a soldier's knapsack?
Oh! hateful soldier! your hideous satchel makes me sick! it stinks
like the belching of onions, whereas this lovable deity has the
odour of sweet fruits, of festivals, of the Dionysia, of the harmony
of flutes, of the tragic poets, of the verses of Sophocles, of the
phrases of Euripides....
That's a foul calumny, you wretch! She detests that framer of
subtleties and quibbles.
TRYGAEUS (ignoring this)
....of ivy, of straining-bags for wine, of bleating ewes, of
provision-laden women hastening to the kitchen, of the tipsy servant
wench, of the upturned wine-jar, and of a whole heap of other good
Then look how the reconciled towns chat pleasantly together, how
And yet they are all cruelly mishandled; their wounds are bleeding
But let us also scan the mien of the spectators; we shall thus
find out the trade of each.
Look at that poor crest-maker, tearing at his hair....
....and at that pike-maker, who has just farted in yon
And do you see with what pleasure this sickle-maker....
....is thumbing his nose at the spear-maker?