one time in our assembly. Demostrates— what a stupid man he is—was arguing that we should sail to Sicily. Meanwhile, his wife was dancing round and screaming out “Alas, Adonis!” While Demostrates talked,

saying we should levy soldiers from Zacynthus, the woman was on the roof top, getting drunk and yelling out “Weep for Adonis! Weep.” But he kept on forcing his opinion through, that mad brutal ox, whom the gods despise. That’s just the kind of loose degenerate stuff that comes from women.

LEADER OF MEN’S CHORUS

Wait until I tell you the insolent things these women did to us— all their abuse—they dumped their water jugs

on us. So now we have to dry our clothes.

We look as if we’ve pissed ourselves.

By Poseidon, god of the salt seas, it serves you right. We men ourselves share in the blame for this. We teach our wives their free and easy life, and so intrigues come flowering out from them. Here’s what we tell some working artisan, “O goldsmith, about that necklace I bought here— last night my wife was dancing and the bolt

slipped from its hole. I have to take a boat to Salamis. If you’ve got time tonight,

you could visit her with that tool of yours and fix the way the bolt sits in her hole.” Another man goes to the shoemaker, a strapping lad with an enormous prick, and says, “O shoemaker, a sandal strap is pinching my wife’s tender little toe. Could you come at noon and rub her strap, stretch it really wide?” That’s the sort of thing

that leads to all this trouble. Look at me, a magistrate in charge of finding oars

and thus in need of money now—these women have shut the treasury doors to keep me out. But standing here’s no use.

Bring the crow bars. I’ll stop these women’s insolence myself.

What are you gaping at, you idiot! And you—what are you looking at? Why are you doing nothing—just staring round looking for a tavern? Take these crowbars to the doors there, and then pry them open. Come, I’ll work to force them with you.

No need to use those crowbars. I’m coming out—

and of my own free will. Why these crowbars? This calls for brains and common sense, not force.

Is that so, you slut? Where’s that officer? Seize that woman! Tie her hands!

By Artemis, he may be a public servant, but if he lays a finger on me, he’ll be sorry.

Are you scared of her? Grab her round the waist! You there, help him out! And tie her up!

By Pandrosus, if you lift a hand to her,

I’ll beat you until you shit yourself!

and of my own free will. Why these crowbars? This calls for brains and common sense, not force.

Is that so, you slut? Where’s that officer? Seize that woman! Tie her hands!

By Artemis, he may be a public servant, but if he lays a finger on me, he’ll be sorry.

Are you scared of her? Grab her round the waist! You there, help him out! And tie her up!

By Pandrosus, if you lift a hand to her,

I’ll beat you until you shit yourself!

Look at the mess you made! Where is he, that other officer?

Tie up this one first, the one who’s got such a dirty mouth.

By the god of light, if you just touch her, you’ll quickly need a cup to fix your eyes.

Who’s this here? Arrest her! I’ll put a stop to all women in this demonstration!

By bull-bashing Artemis, if you move to touch her, I’ll rip out all your hair

until you yelp in pain.

This is getting bad. There’re no officers left. We can’t let ourselves

be beaten back by women. Come on then, you Scythians, form up your ranks. Then charge. Go at them!

By the two goddesses, you’ll see— we’ve got four companies of women inside, all fighting fit and fully armed.

Come on, Scythians, twist their arms behind them!

Come out here from where you are in there, all you female allies, on the double—

you market women who sell grain and eggs, garlic and vegetables, and those who run our bakeries and taverns, to the attack!

Hit them, stomp on them, scratch their eyeballs, cover them with your abuse! Don’t hold back!

That’s enough! Back off! Don’t strip the armour from those you have defeated.

Disaster! My guards have acted quite disgracefully.

What did you expect? Did you really think you were facing a bunch of female slaves?

Or is it your belief that mere women have no spirit in them?

Spirit? By Apollo, yes! If they’re near any man who’s got some wine.

LEADER OF MEN’S CHORUS

In this land you’re a magistrate, but here your words are useless. Why even try to have a conversation with these bitches? Don’t you know they’ve just given us a bath in our own cloaks? And they did not use soap!