Chorus of Women.
Oh! Zeus, oh! Zeus!
Lysistrata.
What use calling upon Zeus? The thing is even as I say. I cannot stop them any longer from lusting after the men. They are all for deserting. The first I caught was slipping out by the postern gate near the cave of Pan; another was letting herself down by a rope and pulley; a third was busy preparing her escape; while a fourth, perched on a bird’s back, was just taking wing for Orsilochus’ house,[1] when I seized her by the hair. One and all, they are inventing excuses to be off home. Look! there goes one, trying to get out! Halloa there! whither away so fast?
First Woman.
I want to go home; I have some Miletus wool in the house, which is getting all eaten up by the worms.
Lysistrata.
Bah! you and your worms! go back, I say!
First Woman.
I will return immediately, I swear I will by the two goddesses! I only have just to spread it out on the bed.
Lysistrata.
You shall not do anything of the kind! I say, you shall not go.
First Woman.
Must I leave my wool to spoil then?
Lysistrata.
Yes, if need be.
Second Woman.
Unhappy woman that I am! Alas for my flax! I’ve left it at home unstript!
- ↑ Keeper of a house of ill fame apparently.
