Fletcher Flora - Lysistrata

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Lysistrata: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Lysistrata paced restlessly in the garden, nervously plucking at leaves. It had been seven months since she had seen her husband, Lycon — since he had left her to go off to war.
Seven months of lonely days and empty nights — of aching heart and throbbing loins. Seven months of longing.
But now a strange smile played around her lips.
Tonight he was coming home—

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“Although I am enjoying the eels and the wine,” he said after a few minutes, “I now feel that I must leave.”

“Leave?” Acron looked at him with astonishment. “Why must you leave? It’s quite early yet, Cadmus.”

“Yes, it is. It is far earlier than I would ordinarily leave the table of a friend, but I definitely feel that I am an outsider here, and not wanted.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Cadmus,” Lycon said. “Of course you’re wanted.”

“Nevertheless, it is not courteous of you to make sly references to something which I am not permitted to know. It’s disconcerting to me, as you must surely realize.”

“I apologize.”

“That does not alter the situation in the least.”

“Well, I can see that you are determined to know what it is that depresses me. It’s a personal matter, and rather humiliating, but I am prepared to tell you rather than have you accuse me of being deficient in hospitality. As a matter of fact, it’s Lysistrata.”

“Lysistrata? That’s difficult to believe. I’ll tell you frankly, as a friend whose motives are surely above suspicion, that Lysistrata is a woman who can disturb a man in various pleasant ways, but I find it incredible that she can be depressing. Especially to her husband who has just returned after seven months in Pylos.”

“At any rate,” said Lycon, “it’s true. Lysistrata has depressed me.”

“If you say so, it must be true, but I can scarcely believe it.”

“She has refused to receive him in her bedchamber,” Acron said.

“What? What’s that?” Cadmus turned to Acron with his eyes bulging a little. “Did I understand you properly? She has refused to accommodate her husband?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Well, isn’t that treason or mutiny or some kind of crime? Surely she can be beaten or renounced for such behavior!”

“True. Besides a beating or renunciation, there are also several other permissible actions that could be taken, but all of them, in the end, are no more than unsatisfactory alternatives to what is really desired.”

“I can see that,” said Cadmus. “I certainly can. When did she refuse you, if I may ask?”

“Only this morning. I went to her at once like a devoted husband, of course.”

“I can see that you behaved correctly, and have nothing to reproach yourself for. Did she attempt to explain her unreasonable attitude?”

“Feebly. She said that I was gone so much that she had lost the habit and was considering the study of philosophy as a substitute. Apparently she is annoyed because the war takes up more of my time than she thinks proper.”

“Women are constantly complaining about the war, including my own wife, but I have never before heard of one taking such a radical position, and I don’t mind saying that I consider it a serious menace to us all. Suppose it were adopted by women generally.”

“Knowing Athenian women, I hardly think that likely.”

“Did you think it likely of Lysistrata?”

“No, I didn’t, as a matter of fact. It never once occurred to me.”

“Well, then.”

Cadmus ate a few more grapes and drank more wine, but now he seemed to get no pleasure from either. He looked at Lycon as if, on second thought, he held his host responsible for getting into difficulties that might have to be shared by others, including Cadmus.

“I declare, Lycon,” he said crossly, “you have quite spoiled my pleasure in the evening. I am a peculiarly sensitive man, and always easily disturbed by abnormalities of this sort. I believe that I had better go home at once, and if you want my advice, I would tell you to settle this business to your satisfaction immediately. Have you seen Lysistrata since this morning?”

“You know I have not, since we have been at the market together.”

“You see? You have so disturbed me with this news that I am unable to think clearly. Well, perhaps Lysistrata is already repentant and is waiting for you at this moment to demonstrate it.” Cadmus rose from his couch and shook out his chiton. “Goodnight, Lycon. I thank you for your hospitality and apologize for having questioned it. Are you going my way, Acron?”

“I suppose,” said Acron, “that I might as well, since you are clearly determined to spoil the fun. Good-by, Lycon. It is my opinion that we have exaggerated the importance of this pigheadedness of Lysistrata’s, and I predict that it is a temporary condition that will be changed within thirty minutes after our departure.”

“I hope you are right,” Lycon said.

He showed Cadmus and Acron to the door and then returned to have a little more wine. He drank the wine while the slave cleared the table. Drinking and considering Acron’s prediction, he convinced himself that his friend was certainly right, though he may have been a little optimistic in the time element. Convinced by thinking and fortified by wine, he went down the passage to his wife’s room.

Lying on her bed in the thin purple gown, Lysistrata was eating grapes. The flame of the terra-cotta lamp, spreading its light across her, created an exceedingly interesting pattern of suggestion. She placed a single grape between her teeth and bit into it daintily, permitting the sweet juice to run into her mouth. Looking at Lycon, she said nothing. As for him, he was sorely tempted to resort to direct action, but on the other hand, he was sufficiently wary to feel that more might be accomplished in the end by an oblique technique.

“Well,” he said, “I have had Cadmus and Acron to dine.”

“That’s very nice, I’m sure,” she said politely. “I hope you enjoyed yourselves.”

“Up to a point, Cadmus and Acron had a pleasant time, both of them being perfect pigs about Boeotian eels. But I confess that I was unable to get into the proper spirit. The eels were delicious, by the way. Both Cadmus and Acron commented on them. Your supervision and preparation were excellent, as always.”

“I’m compelled to correct you. In this case, my supervision and preparation were not excellent because, as it happens, I had absolutely nothing to do with the dinner.”

“No? How can that be? It is an inviolable custom for a wife to supervise the preparation and serving of dinner for her husband and his guests.”

“It may be a custom, but it is not inviolable, for I have violated it.”

“I swear, you seem determined to try me beyond endurance. I simply cannot understand you.”

“I am not determined to try you at all. As I explained this morning, I have merely adjusted to the necessity of foregoing certain pleasures and customs, and I see no sense whatever in taking up again what I would only have to relinquish again in a little while. This on again — off again existence causes excessive stress and becomes quite disturbing after a time, and it is much more comfortable, I have decided, to be one way or the other permanently.”

Resisting an urge to beat her thoroughly without further delay, he decided that the most effective attitude would be a kind of good-humored tolerance of what was, of course, her temporary whimsy.

“Oh, this morning!” he said. “Do you suppose for an instant that I took your little joke seriously? I assure you that I’ve had several good laughs over it since, and I have now returned to resume our natural relationship in the best of humor.”

“Have you, really?” she said. “Well, I only hope that you will be in just as good a humor when you leave, but I seriously doubt it, for I will tell you directly that I don’t intend to accommodate you voluntarily until you give up your foolishness and stay at home like a sensible person.”

“I’m becoming convinced at last that you actually mean to persist in this insanity.”

“It’s a fact that I do.”

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