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Works by Aristophanes
Pages of Peace

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TRYGAEUS (to the audience)
Let's see, which one of you is steady enough to be trusted by
the Senate with the care of this charming wench? (to the SERVANT)
Hi! you, friend! what are you drawing there?
SERVANT (who has been making signs in the air)
It's er.... well, at the Isthmian Games I shall have a tent for my
TRYGAEUS (to the audience)
Come, who wishes to take the charge of her? No one? Come, Theoria,
I am going to lead you into the midst of the spectators and confide
you to their care.
Ah! there is one who makes a sign to you.
Who is it?
It's Ariphrades. He wishes to take her home at once.
No, he must not. He would soon have her done for, absorbing all
her life-force. Come, Theoria, take off all these clothes. (THEORIA
undresses. As soon as she is nude, TRYGAEUS conducts her to the
front row of seats, where the SENATORS sit.)
Senate, Prytanes, gaze
upon Theoria and see what precious blessings I place in your hands.
Hasten to raise its limbs and to immolate the victim. And look at this
God, what a beautiful one! It's black with smoke because the
Senate used to do its cooking there before the war.
Now that you have found Theoria again, you can start the most
charming games from to-morrow, wrestling with her on the ground, on
all fours, or you can lay her on her side, or stand before her with
bent knees, or, well rubbed with oil, you can boldly enter the
lists, as in the Pancratium, belabouring your foe with blows from your
fist or something else. The next day you will celebrate equestrian
games, in which the riders will ride side by side, or else the chariot
teams, thrown one on top of another, panting and whinnying, will
roll and knock against each other on the ground, while other rivals,
thrown out of their seats, will fall before reaching the goal, utterly
exhausted by their efforts.-Come, Prytanes, take Theoria. Oh! look-how
graciously yonder fellow has received her; you would not have been
in such a hurry to introduce her to the Senate, if nothing were coming
to you through it; you would not have failed to plead some holiday
as an excuse.
CHORUS (singing)
Such a man as you assures the happiness of all his
TRYGAEUS (singing)
When you are gathering your vintages you will prize me even
CHORUS (singing)
E'en from to-day we hail you as the deliverer of mankind.
TRYGAEUS (singing)
Wait until you have drunk a beaker of new wine, before you
appraise my true merits.
CHORUS (singing)
Excepting the gods, there is none greater than yourself, and
that will ever be our opinion.
TRYGAEUS (singing)
Yea, Trygaeus of Athmonia has deserved well of you, he has freed
both husbandman and craftsman from the most cruel ills; he has
vanquished Hyberbolus.
Well then, what must be done now?

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