then will be the end of all the ills of life; yea, and Zeus, which doth thunder in the skies, shall set above what was erst below. . . .”
Chorus of Women.
What! shall the men be underneath?
Lysistrata.
“But if dissension do arise among the swallows, and they take wing from the holy Temple, ’twill be said there is never a more wanton bird in all the world.”
Chorus of Women.
Ye gods! the prophecy is clear. Nay, never let us be cast down by calamity! let us be brave to bear, and go back to our posts. ’Twere shameful indeed not to trust the promises of the Oracle.
Chorus of Old Men.
I want to tell you a fable they used to relate to me when I was a little boy. This is it: Once upon a time there was a young man called Melanion, who hated the thought of marriage so sorely that he fled away to the wilds. So he dwelt in the mountains, wove himself nets, kept a dog and caught hares. He never, never came back, he had such a horror of women. As chaste as Melanion,[1] we loathe the jades just as much as he did.
An Old Man.
You dear old woman, I would fain kiss you.
A Woman.
I will set you crying without onions.
Old Man.
. . . And give you a sound kicking.
- ↑ “As chaste as Melanion” was a Greek proverb. Who Melanion was is unknown.
