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THE FROGS OF ARISTOPHANES

By Aristophanes

The Harvard Classics

Edited By Charles W Eliot Lld

Nine Greek Dramas

By AEschylus, Sophocles, Euripides And Aristophanes



Translations By

  E D A Morshead
  E H Plumptre
  Gilbert Murray
  And
  B B Rogers


With Introductions And Notes


VOLUME 8




INTRODUCTORY NOTE


Aristophanes, _the greatest of comic writers in Greek and in the
opinion of many, in any language, is the only one of the Attic
comedians any of whose works has survived in complete form He was born
in Athens about the middle of the fifth century B C, and had his first
comedy produced when he was so young that his name was withheld on
account of his youth. He is credited with over forty plays, eleven of
which survive, along with the names and fragments of some twenty-six
others. His satire deal with political, religious, and literary topics,
and with all its humor and fancy is evidently the outcome of profound
conviction and a genuine patriotism. The Attic comedy was produced at
the festivals of Dionysus, which were marked by great license, and to
this, rather than to the individual taste of the poet, must be ascribed
the undoubted coarseness of many of the jests. Aristophanes seems,
indeed, to have been regarded by his contemporaries as a man of noble
character. He died shortly after the production of his "Plutus," in 388
B. C.

"The Frogs" was produced the year after the death of Euripides, and
laments the decay of Greek tragedy which Aristophanes attributed to
that writer. It is an admirable example of the brilliance of his style,
and of that mingling of wit and poetry with rollicking humor and keen
satirical point which is his chief characteristic. Here, as elsewhere,
he stands for tradition against innovation of all kinds, whether in
politics, religion, or art. The hostility to Euripides displayed here
and in several other plays, like his attacks on Socrates, is a result
of this attitude of conservatism. The present play is notable also as a
piece of elaborate if not over-serious literary criticism from the pen
of a great poet._



THE FROGS OF ARISTOPHANES




DRAMATIS PERSONAE


THE GOD DIONYSUS

XANTHIAS, _his slave_

AESCHYLUS

EURIPIDES

HERACLES

PLUTO

CHARON AEACUS, _house porter to Pluto_

A CORPSE

A MAIDSERVANT OF PERSEPHONE

A LANDLADY IN HADES

PLATHANE, _her servant_

A CHORUS OF FROGS

A CHORUS OF INITIATED PERSONS

_Attendants at a Funeral;

Women worshipping Iacchus;

Servants of Pluto, &c._


*****

  _XANTHIAS_

  Shall I crack any of those old jokes, master,
  At which the audience never fail to laugh?

  DIONYSUS. Aye, what you will, except _I'm getting crushed:_ Fight shy
  of that: I'm sick of that already.

  XAN. Nothing else smart?

  DIO. Aye, save _my shoulder's aching._

  XAN. Come now, that comical joke?

  DIO. With all my heart. Only be careful not to shift your pole,
  And--

  XAN. What?

  DIO. And vow that you've a bellyache.

  XAN. May I not say I'm overburdened so
  That if none ease me, I must ease myself?

  DIO. For mercy's sake, not till I'm going to vomit.

  XAN.

  What! must I bear these burdens, and not make
  One of the jokes Ameipsias and Lycis
  And Phrynichus, in every play they write,
  Put in the mouths of all their burden-bearers?

  DIO.

  Don't make them; no! I tell you when I see
  Their plays, and hear those jokes, I come away
  More than a twelvemonth older than I went.

  XAN.

  O thrice unlucky neck of mine, which now
  Is _getting crushed_, yet must not crack its joke!

  DIO.

  Now is not this fine pampered insolence
  When I myself, Dionysus, son of--Pipkin,
  Toil on afoot, and let this fellow ride,
  Taking no trouble, and no burden bearing?

  XAN. What, don't I bear?

  DIO. How can you when you're riding?

  XAN. Why, I bear these.

  DIO. How?

  XAN. Most unwillingly.

  DIO. Does not the donkey bear the load you're bearing?

  XAN. Not what I bear myself: by Zeus, not he.

  DIO. How can you bear, when you are borne yourself?

  XAN. Don't know: but anyhow _my shoulder's aching_.

  DIO.

  Then since you say the donkey helps you not,
  You lift him up and carry him in turn.

  XAN.

  O hang it all! why didn't I fight at sea?
  You should have smarted bitterly for this.

  DIO.

  Get down, you rascal; I've been trudging on
  Till now I've reached the portal, where I'm going
  First to turn in.
  Boy! Boy! I say there, Boy!

  HERACLES.

  Who banged the door? How like a prancing Centaur
  He drove against it! Mercy o' me, what's this?

  DIO. Boy.

  XAN. Yes.

  DIO. Did you observe?

  XAN. What?

  DIO. How alarmed He is.

  XAN. Aye truly, lest you've lost your wits.

