Lysistrata program

If I should take orders from one who wears veils, may my neck straightaway be deservedly wrung. O if that keeps pestering you, I've a veil here for your hair, I'll fit you out in everything As is only fair.

Girdled now sit humbly at home, Munching beans, while you card wool and comb. For war from now on is the Women's affair. Come then, down pitchers, all, And on, courageous of heart, In our comradely venture Each taking her due part. I could dance, dance, dance, and be fresher after, I could dance away numberless suns, To no weariness let my knees bend. Earth I could brave with laughter, Having such wonderful girls here to friend.

O the daring, the gracious, the beautiful ones! Their courage unswerving and witty Will rescue our city. O sprung from the seed of most valiant-wombed grand-mothers, scions of savage and dangerous nettles! Prepare for the battle, all. Gird up your angers. Our way the wind of sweet victory settles. O tender Eros and Lady of Cyprus, some flush of beauty I pray you devise To flash on our bosoms and, O Aphrodite, rosily gleam on our valorous thighs!

Joy will raise up its head through the legions warring and all of the far-serried ranks of mad-love Bristle the earth to the pillared horizon, pointing in vain to the heavens above. I think that perhaps then they'll give us our title-- Peace-makers. What do you mean? Please explain. First, we'll not see you now flourishing arms about into the Marketing-place clang again.

Still I can conjure them as past were the herbs stand or crockery's sold Like Corybants jingling poor sots fully armoured, they noisily round on their promenade strolled. But what's sillier than to go on an errand of buying a fish Carrying along an immense. Gorgon-buckler instead the usual platter or dish?

A phylarch I lately saw, mounted on horse-back, dressed for the part with long ringlets and all, Stow in his helmet the omelet bought steaming from an old woman who kept a food-stall. Nearby a soldier, a Thracian, was shaking wildly his spear like Tereus in the play, To frighten a fig-girl while unseen the ruffian filched from her fruit-trays the ripest away.

How, may I ask, will your rule re-establish order and justice in lands so tormented? If, when yarn we are winding, It chances to tangle, then, as perchance you may know, through the skein This way and that still the spool we keep passing till it is finally clear all again: So to untangle the War and its errors, ambassadors out on all sides we will send This way and that, here, there and round about--soon you will find that the War has an end.

So with these trivial tricks of the household, domestic analogies of threads, skeins and spools, You think that you'll solve such a bitter complexity, unwind such political problems, you fools!

Well, first as we wash dirty wool so's to cleanse it, so with a pitiless zeal we will scrub Through the whole city for all greasy fellows; burrs too, the parasites, off we will rub. That verminous plague of insensate place-seekers soon between thumb and forefinger we'll crack. All who inside Athens' walls have their dwelling into one great common basket we'll pack. Disenfranchised or citizens, allies or aliens, pell-mell the lot of them in we will squeeze. Till they discover humanity's meaning As for disjointed and far colonies, Them you must never from this time imagine as scattered about just like lost hanks of wool.

Each portion we'll take and wind in to this centre, inward to Athens each loyalty pull, Till from the vast heap where all's piled together at last can be woven a strong Cloak of State.

How terrible is it to stand here and watch them carding and winding at will with our fate, Witless in war as they are.

What of us then, who ever in vain for our children must weep Borne but to perish afar and in vain? Then while we should be companioned still merrily, happy as brides may, the livelong night, Kissing youth by, we are forced to lie single But leave for a moment our pitiful plight, It hurts even more to behold the poor maidens helpless wrinkling in staler virginity.

Not in the same way. Not as a woman grows withered, grows he. He, when returned from the war, though grey-headed, yet if he wishes can choose out a wife. But she has no solace save peering for omens, wretched and lonely the rest of her life. O why not finish and die? A bier is easy to buy, A honey-cake I'll knead you with joy, This garland will see you are decked. What more is lacking?

Step aboard the boat. See, Charon shouts ahoy. You're keeping him, he wants to shove afloat. Outrageous insults! Thus my place to flout! Now to my fellow-magistrates I'll go And what you've perpetrated on me show. Why are you blaming us for laying you out? Assure yourself we'll not forget to make The third day offering early for your sake. All men who call your loins your own, awake at last, arise And strip to stand in readiness. For as it seems to me Some more perilous offensive in their heads they now devise.

For is it not preposterous They should talk this way to us On a subject such as battle! And, women as they are, about bronze bucklers dare prattle-- Make alliance with the Spartans--people I for one Like very hungry wolves would always most sincere shun Some dirty game is up their sleeve, I believe.

A Tyranny, no doubt Henceforth on my guard I'll go, A sword with myrtle-branches wreathed for ever in my hand, And under arms in the Public Place I'll take my watchful stand, Shoulder to shoulder with Aristogeiton.

Now my staff I'll draw And start at once by knocking that shocking Hag upon the jaw. Your own mother will not know you when you get back to the town. But first, my friends and allies, let us lay these garments down, And all ye fellow-citizens, hark to me while I tell What will aid Athens well. Just as is right, for I Have been a sharer In all the lavish splendour Of the proud city.

It should not prejudice my voice that I'm not born a man, If I say something advantageous to the present situation. For I'm taxed too, and as a toll provide men for the nation While, miserable greybeards, you, It is true, Contribute nothing of any importance whatever to our needs; But the treasure raised against the Medes You've squandered, and do nothing in return, save that you make Our lives and persons hazardous by some imbecile mistakes What can you answer?

Now be careful, don't arouse my spite, Or with my slipper I'll take you napping, faces slapping Left and right. What villainies they contrive! Come, let vengeance fall, You that below the waist are still alive, Off with your tunics at my call-- Naked, all. For a man must strip to battle like a man. No quaking, brave steps taking, careless what's ahead, white shoed, in the nude, onward bold, All ye who garrisoned Leipsidrion of old Let each one wag As youthfully as he can, And if he has the cause at heart Rise at least a span.

We must take a stand and keep to it, For if we yield the smallest bit To their importunity. Then nowhere from their inroads will be left to us immunity. But they'll be building ships and soon their navies will attack us, As Artemisia did, and seek to fight us and to sack us. And if they mount, the Knights they'll rob Of a job, For everyone knows how talented they all are in the saddle, Having long practised how to straddle; No matter how they're jogged there up and down, they're never thrown.

Then think of Myron's painting, and each horse-backed Amazon In combat hand-to-hand with men Come, on these women fall, And in pierced wood-collars let's stick quick The necks of one and all. Don't cross me or I'll loose The Beast that's kennelled here And soon you will be howling for a truce, Howling out with fear.

But my dear, Strip also, that women may battle unhindered But you, you'll be too sore to eat garlic more, or one black bean, I really mean, so great's my spleen, to kick you black and blue With these my dangerous legs. I'll hatch the lot of you, If my rage you dash on, The way the relentless Beetle Hatched the Eagle's eggs. Scornfully aside I set Every silly old-man threat While Lampito's with me. Or dear Ismenia, the noble Theban girl. Then let decree Be hotly piled upon decree; in vain will be your labours, You futile rogue abominated by your suffering neighbour To Hecate's feast I yesterday went.

Off I sent To our neighbours in Boeotia, asking as a gift to me For them to pack immediately That darling dainty thing But they refused because some idiotic old decree's in force. O this strange passion for decrees nothing on earth can check, Till someone puts a foot out tripping you, and slipping you Break your neck. Dear Mistress of our martial enterprise, Why do you come with sorrow in your eyes?

What use is Zeus to our anatomy? Here is the gaping calamity I meant: I cannot shut their ravenous appetites A moment more now. They are all deserting. The first I caught was sidling through the postern Close by the Cave of Pan: the next hoisting herself With rope and pulley down: a third on the point Of slipping past: while a fourth malcontent, seated For instant flight to visit Orsilochus On bird-back, I dragged off by the hair in time They are all snatching excuses to sneak home.

Look, there goes one Hey, what's the hurry? I must get home. I've some Milesian wool Packed wasting away, and moths are pushing through it. By the Goddesses, I'll return instantly. I only want to stretch it on my bed. So here's another That wishes to go home and strip her flax.

Inside again! No, by the Goddess of Light, I'll be back as soon as I have flayed it properly. You'll not flay anything. For if you begin There'll not be one here but has a patch to be flayed. O holy Eilithyia, stay this birth Till I have left the precincts of the place! By Aphrodite, it isn't. Your belly's hollow, And it has the feel of metal Well, I soon can see. You hussy, it's Athene's sacred helm, And you said you were with child.

So if the throes should take me Still in these grounds I could use it like a dove As a laying-nest in which to drop the child. More pretexts! You can't hide your clear intent, And anyway why not wait till the tenth day Meditating a brazen name for your brass brat? And I can't sleep a wink. My nerve is gone Since I saw that snake-sentinel of the shrine. And all those dreadful owls with their weird hooting!

Though I'm wearied out, I can't close an eye. You wicked women, cease from juggling lies. You want your men. But what of them as well? They toss as sleepless in the lonely night, I'm sure of it.

Hold out awhile, hold out, But persevere a teeny-weeny longer. An oracle has promised Victory If we don't wrangle. Would you hear the words?

Silence then, you chatterboxes. Here-- Whenas the swallows flocking in one place from the hoopoes Deny themselves love's gambols any more, All woes shall then have ending and great Zeus the Thunderer Shall put above what was below before.

That's his decree. Now by all the gods We must let no agony deter from duty, Back to your quarters. For we are base indeed, My friends, if we betray the oracle.

I'd like to remind you of a fable they used to employ, When I was a little boy: How once through fear of the marriage-bed a young man, Melanion by name, to the wilderness ran, And there on the hills he dwelt.

For hares he wove a net Which with his dog he set-- Most likely he's there yet. For he never came back home, so great was the fear he felt. I loathe the sex as much as he, And therefore I no less shall be As chaste as was Melanion. So much Myronides' fierce beard And thundering black back were feared, That the foe fled when they were shown-- Brave he as Phormion.

Well, I'll relate a rival fable just to show to you A different point of view: There was a rough-hewn fellow, Timon, with a face That glowered as through a thorn-bush in a wild, bleak place.

He too decided on flight, This very Furies' son, All the world's ways to shun And hide from everyone, Spitting out curses on all knavish men to left and right. But though he reared this hate for men, He loved the women even then, And never thought them enemies.

Nay, you'll see there, I engage, All is well kept despite my age, And tended smooth enough to slip From any adversary's grip. A man, a man! I spy a frenzied man! He carries Love upon him like a staff. You know how to work. Play with him, lead him on, Seduce him to the cozening-point--kiss him, kiss him, Then slip your mouth aside just as he's sure of it, Ungirdle every caress his mouth feels at Save that the oath upon the bowl has locked.

I'll stay here to help In working up his ardor to its height Of vain magnificence The rest to their quarters. Welcome, dear friend! That glorious name of yours Is quite familiar in our ranks. Your wife Continually has it in her mouth. She cannot touch an apple or an egg But she must say, "This to Cinesias!

By Aphrodite, it is. If the conversation strikes on men, your wife Cuts in with, "All are boobies by Cinesias. Be quick, be quick. All grace is wiped from life Since she went away. O sad, sad am I When there I enter on that loneliness, And wine is unvintaged of the sun's flavour. And food is tasteless. But I've put on weight.

Don't go, please don't go, Myrrhine. At least you'll hear our child. Call your mother, lad. There now, don't you feel pity for the child? He's not been fed or washed now for six days. A trying life it is to be a mother! I suppose I'd better go. She comes down. How much younger she looks, How fresher and how prettier! Myrrhine, Lift up your lovely face, your disdainful face; And your ankle You're as innocent as he's iniquitous.

Let me kiss you, honey-petting, mother's darling. How wrong to follow other women's counsel And let loose all these throbbing voids in yourself As well as in me. Don't you go throb-throb?

O come here. Here, Manes, take the child home! There, he's gone. To try and help cover some of these expenses before they spiral out of control we have started an emergency fund to support vulnerable people in the sex industry and give our community somewhere to turn when they are facing hardships.

For workers with larger needs we are happy to promote individual crowdfunds and donation information on our social media to give them a boost! To inquire about receiving emergency assistance or promoting a fundraiser get in touch at lysistratamccf protonmail. Before contacting us or referring anyone to us please look over our Guidelines for Fund Requests! To be able to offer these low barrier cash gifts, we are filed as a Limited Cooperative Association.

Vaudevillian performer and notorious early film star, Mae West is generally credited with coining the phrase that has become a classic comic idiom. For generations, film and TV comics have riffed on the joke, inserting various phallic shaped objects pipe, pencil, gun..

But long before West was making comic gold from bawdy, body-based comedy, one of the earliest extant comic writers in Western European Drama was playing with the same puns and sight gags in his play Lysistrata , which premiered in Athens in B.

Dionysus—sometimes called Bacchus—was the god of grape harvest, wine-making and wine, vegetation, and importantly, fertility in all of its implications for the world of nature as well as for humans. As a symbol of fertility, the phallus—an image or representation of the male reproductive organs—was deeply associated with rituals honoring Dionysus as evidenced by many paintings archeologists have found on ancient vases, sculptures and other art.

Indeed, many theatre historians believe that Ancient Greek Comedy presented at the City Dionysia evolved out of religious rituals involving songs and processions in which massive phalluses were promenaded through the streets as part of these Dionysian celebrations.

Historians also note that one of the earliest comic forms in Ancient Greece, the satyr play, often contained explicitly sexual material in which the costumes worn by the actors who were all men featured short tunics below which protruding phalluses were visible. Lysistrata reminds us that some comedy transcends time and place especially that which pokes fun at the trials and tribulations of our embodied humanity.

Do I nurture my career or my children? Do I support my spouse or my own goals? Do I forego family life all together and focus on myself? Women no longer need to wear heels, or even be the partner that follows. Instead, we can take the lead in footwear of our own choosing! We chose these four stories to highlight seminal moments in herstory so we can celebrate how far women have come and keep an eye on how far we have yet to go.

All authorized performance materials are also supplied by MTI. She met husband Lon, a regular at The Studio, at an audition thirty years ago and they have been doing shows together ever since. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity.

He was cast as Robert in the award winning production of Proof in their inaugural season, a role for which he received a Best Actor award nomination from Theatre World Orlando. Lon has understudied three roles here as well including Rothko in Red. Many thanks to The Studio staff who keep thinking of me and to my wife Boon who helps keep life a gas. Peace and love foxy people! IG: thatrachelcomeu Facebook: rachel.