Untangle iso download

But let it be. Peace maun be thought of first. But if--which heaven forbid--we should refrain As you would have us, how is Peace induced? By the two Goddesses, now can't you see All we have to do is idly sit indoors With smooth roses powdered on our cheeks, Our bodies burning naked through the folds Of shining Amorgos' silk, and meet the men With our dear Venus-plats plucked trim and neat.

Their stirring love will rise up furiously, They'll beg our arms to open. That's our time! We'll disregard their knocking, beat them off-- And they will soon be rabid for a Peace. I'm sure of it. Just as Menelaus, they say, Seeing the bosom of his naked Helen Flang down the sword. But we'll be tearful fools If our husbands take us at our word and leave us.

There's only left then, in Pherecrates' phrase, To flay a skinned dog --flay more our flayed desires. Bah, proverbs will never warm a celibate. But what avail will your scheme be if the men Drag us for all our kicking on to the couch? But if they should force us? Yield then, but with a sluggish, cold indifference. There is no joy to them in sullen mating.

Besides we have other ways to madden them; They cannot stand up long, and they've no delight Unless we fit their aim with merry succour. For us I ha' no doubt. We can persuade Our men to strike a fair an' decent Peace, But how will ye pitch out the battle-frenzy O' the Athenian populace?

I don't believe it. Not while they own ane trireme oared an' rigged, Or a' those stacks an' stacks an' stacks O' siller. I've thought the whole thing out till there's no flaw.

We shall surprise the Acropolis today: That is the duty set the older dames. While we sit here talking, they are to go And under pretence of sacrificing, seize it. Now quickly, Lampito, let us tie ourselves To this high purpose as tightly as the hemp of words Can knot together.

Of course Well then Where is our Scythianess? Why are you staring? First lay the shield, boss downward, on the floor And bring the victim's inwards. What oath! In Aeschylus they take a slaughtered sheep And swear upon a buckler. Why not we? Something burden bearing Would be our best insignia A white horse! Let's swear upon its entrails. This, as I tell you-- First set a great dark bowl upon the ground And disembowel a skin of Thasian wine, Then swear that we'll not add a drop of water.

Lay hands, all, on the victim. Skiey Queen who givest the last word in arguments, And thee, O Bowl, dear comrade, we beseech: Accept our oblation and be propitious to us. You, Calonice, repeat for the rest Each word I say. Then you must all take oath And pledge your arms to the same stern conditions Though love and denial may enlarge his charms. O, O, my knees are failing me, Lysistrata! Here now, share fair, haven't we made a pact? Let's all quaff down that friendship in our turn. As I told you, The women have appropriated the citadel.

So, Lampito, dash off to your own land And raise the rebels there. These will serve as hostages, While we ourselves take our places in the ranks And drive the bolts right home. And what if they do? No threat shall creak our hinges wide, no torch Shall light a fear in us; we will come out To Peace alone. Make room, Draces, move ahead; why your shoulder's chafed, I see, With lugging uphill these lopped branches of the olive-tree. How upside-down and wrong-way-round a long life sees things grow.

Ah, Strymodorus, who'd have thought affairs could tangle so? The women whom at home we fed, Like witless fools, with fostering bread, Have impiously come to this-- They've stolen the Acropolis, With bolts and bars our orders flout And shut us out.

Come, Philurgus, bustle thither; lay our faggots on the ground, In neat stacks beleaguering the insurgents all around; And the vile conspiratresses, plotters of such mischief dire, Pile and burn them all together in one vast and righteous pyre: Fling with our own hands Lycon's wife to fry in the thickest fire.

By Demeter, they'll get no brag while I've a vein to beat! Cleomenes himself was hurtled out in sore defeat.

His stiff-backed Spartan pride was bent. Out, stripped of all his arms, he went: A pigmy cloak that would not stretch To hide his rump the draggled wretch , Six sprouting years of beard, the spilth Of six years' filth.

That was a siege! Our men were ranged in lines of seventeen deep Before the gates, and never left their posts there, even to sleep.

Shall I not smite the rash presumption then of foes like these, Detested both of all the gods and of Euripides-- Else, may the Marathon-plain not boast my trophied victories! Ah, now, there's but a little space To reach the place! A deadly climb it is, a tricky road With all this bumping load: A pack-ass soon would tire How these logs bruise my shoulders!

Ough, phew! I choke with the smoke. Lord Heracles, how acrid-hot Out of the pot This mad-dog smoke leaps, worrying me And biting angrily Haste, all of us; Athene invokes our aid. Laches, now or never the assault must be made! Thanked be the gods! The fire peeps up and crackles as it should. Now why not first slide off our backs these weary loads of wood And dip a vine-branch in the brazier till it glows, then straight Hurl it at the battering-ram against the stubborn gate?

If they refuse to draw the bolts in immediate compliance, We'll set fire to the wood, and smoke will strangle their defiance. Phew, what a spluttering drench of smoke! Come, now from off my back Is there no Samos-general to help me to unpack? Ah there, that's over! For the last time now it's galled my shoulder. Flare up thine embers, brazier, and dutifully smoulder, To kindle a brand, that I the first may strike the citadel.

Aid me, Lady Victory, that a triumph-trophy may tell How we did anciently this insane audacity quell! What's that rising yonder? That ruddy glare, that smoky skurry? O is it something in a blaze? Quick, quick, my comrades, hurry! Nicodice, helter-skelter! Or poor Calyce's in flames And Cratylla's stifled in the welter.

O these dreadful old men And their dark laws of hate! There, I'm all of a tremble lest I turn out to be too late.

I could scarcely get near to the spring though I rose before dawn, What with tattling of tongues and rattling of pitchers in one jostling din With slaves pushing in! Still here at last the water's drawn And with it eagerly I run To help those of my friends who stand In danger of being burned alive.

For I am told a dribbling band Of greybeards hobble to the field, Great faggots in each palsied hand, As if a hot bath to prepare, And threatening that out they'll drive These wicked women or soon leave them charring into ashes there.

O Goddess, suffer not, I pray, this harsh deed to be done, But show us Greece and Athens with their warlike acts repealed! For this alone, in this thy hold, Thou Goddess with the helm of gold, We laid hands on thy sanctuary, Athene Then our ally be And where they cast their fires of slaughter Direct our water! You villainous old men, what's this you do? No honest man, no pious man, could do such things as you. Ah ha, here's something most original, I have no doubt: A swarm of women sentinels to man the walls without.

So then we scare you, do we? Do we seem a fearful host? You only see the smallest fraction mustered at this post. Ho, Phaedrias, shall we put a stop to all these chattering tricks?

Suppose that now upon their backs we splintered these our sticks? Let us lay down the pitchers, so our bodies will be free, In case these lumping fellows try to cause some injury. O hit them hard and hit again and hit until they run away, And perhaps they'll learn, like Bupalus, not to have too much to say.

Come on, then--do it! I won't budge, but like a dog I'll bite At every little scrap of meat that dangles in my sight. Now I appreciate Euripides' strange subtlety: Woman is the most shameless beast of all the beasts that be.

Have the luxurious rites of the women glittered Their libertine show, their drumming tapped out crowds, The Sabazian Mysteries summoned their mob, Adonis been wept to death on the terraces, As I could hear the last day in the Assembly?

For Demostratus--let bad luck befoul him-- Was roaring, "We must sail for Sicily," While a woman, throwing herself about in a dance Lopsided with drink, was shrilling out "Adonis, Woe for Adonis. O if you knew their full effrontery!

All of the insults they've done, besides sousing us With water from their pots to our public disgrace For we stand here wringing our clothes like grown-up infants. By Poseidon, justly done! For in part with us The blame must lie for dissolute behaviour And for the pampered appetites they learn. Thus grows the seedling lust to blossoming: We go into a shop and say, "Here, goldsmith, You remember the necklace that you wrought my wife; Well, the other night in fervour of a dance Her clasp broke open.

Now I'm off for Salamis; If you've the leisure, would you go tonight And stick a bolt-pin into her opened clasp. Come at noon and see if you can stretch out wider This thing that troubles her, loosen its tightness. Observe my case-- I, a magistrate, come here to draw Money to buy oar-blades, and what happens? The women slam the door full in my face. But standing still's no use. Bring me a crowbar, And I'll chastise this their impertinence.

What do you gape at, wretch, with dazzled eyes? Peering for a tavern, I suppose. Come, force the gates with crowbars, prise them apart! I'll prise away myself too Stop this banging. I'm coming of my own accord Why bars? It is not bars we need but common sense. Indeed, you slut! Where is the archer now? Arrest this woman, tie her hands behind. If he brushes me with a finger, by Artemis, The public menial, he'll be sorry for it.

Are you afraid? Grab her about the middle. Two of you then, lay hands on her and end it. By Pandrosos I if your hand touches her I'll spread you out and trample on your guts. My guts! Where is the other archer gone? Bind that minx there who talks so prettily. By Phosphor, if your hand moves out her way You'd better have a surgeon somewhere handy.

You too! Where is that archer? Take that woman. I'll put a stop to these surprise-parties. By the Tauric Artemis, one inch nearer My fingers, and it's a bald man that'll be yelling.

Tut tut, what's here? Deserted by my archers But surely women never can defeat us; Close up your ranks, my Scythians. Forward at them. By the Goddesses, you'll find that here await you Four companies of most pugnacious women Armed cap-a-pie from the topmost louring curl To the lowest angry dimple.

On, gallant allies of our high design, Vendors of grain-eggs-pulse-and-vegetables, Ye garlic-tavern-keepers of bakeries, Strike, batter, knock, hit, slap, and scratch our foes, Be finely imprudent, say what you think of them Ah, ha, you thought it was a herd of slaves You had to tackle, and you didn't guess The thirst for glory ardent in our blood.

By Apollo, I know well the thirst that heats you-- Especially when a wine-skin's close. You waste your breath, dear magistrate, I fear, in answering back. What's the good of argument with such a rampageous pack? Remember how they washed us down these very clothes I wore With water that looked nasty and that smelt so even more.

What else to do, since you advanced too dangerously nigh. If you should do the same again, I'll punch you in the eye. Though I'm a stay-at-home and most a quiet life enjoy, Polite to all and every for I'm naturally coy , Still if you wake a wasps' nest then of wasps you must beware.

How may this ferocity be tamed? It grows too great to bear. Let us question them and find if they'll perchance declare The reason why they strangely dare To seize on Cranaos' citadel, This eyrie inaccessible, This shrine above the precipice, The Acropolis. Probe them and find what they mean with this idle talk; listen, but watch they don't try to deceive.

You'd be neglecting your duty most certainly if now this mystery unplumbed you leave. Women there! Tell what I ask you, directly Come, without rambling, I wish you to state What's your rebellious intention in barring up thus on our noses our own temple-gate. To take first the treasury out of your management, and so stop the war through the absence of gold.

Yes, gold caused it and miseries more, too many to be told. Raised up revolutions. But, as for the future, it won't be worth while to set up to be traitors. Not an obol they'll get as their loot, not an obol! Yes, why not? Of our capabilities you have had various clear evidences. Why Debian for 3CX? Linux Essential Tools for Windows Techs.

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