obey orders, Cadmus did as he was told, and Draces took two cautious steps forward and addressed Nausica in a loud voice, after waving his smoking faggot about his head a few times for effect.
“Nausica, you shameless woman,” he said, “if you do not wish your backside roasted by this faggot which you see in my hand, I charge you to disperse your wanton rabble and return to your home this instant.”
After the conclusion of his ultimatum, which he considered conservative and well-spoken, a shrill cackling of derision rose from the body of women before the gates, and the shrillest and most terrifying of all was the cackling of Nausica herself. Draces paled perceptibly and took a quick step backward.
“Are you serious, Draces?” Nausica said. “Do you honestly expect us to submit meekly to a nasty old man who jumps out of his chiton at the first raising of a stick? It is clear from the way you hesitate and prod yourself with words that you are nothing but a windbag. If you wish to roast my backside with your faggot, I invite you to come forward and try, and I promise that you shall soon see what our pots of water are for.”
“I can bear no more!” cried Draces. “I absolutely can bear not another insult from this unspeakable woman who desecrates our shrines and mocks their keepers.” Raising his smoking faggot he flourished it again above his head, causing it to burst suddenly into flame. “Forward!” he cried. “Forward into the citadel!”
He had not intended to issue the command so precipitately. Goaded into a kind of frenzied indiscretion by Nausica’s mockery, as well as by his own brave words, he did not allow himself time to assume a more tactical position of command, slightly more to the rear, and he was caught in the sudden surge of old men and propelled in spite of himself toward the ferocious Nausica. Picking up her pot, she dowsed him thoroughly with hot water and was upon him in an instant with her terrible stick. To make matters worse, the shock of the water caused him to drop his faggot, thus depriving him of his only weapon, and all he could do, being prevented from running by the press behind him, was to dance wildly in a futile effort to avoid the stick, and to cry out in a shrill voice for immediate help. All around him was a welter of action, which was characterized primarily by flailing sticks and howling old men, and which was made all the more sinister in effect by a great hissing and boiling of steam and smoke as water struck the faggots.
“Cadmus!” cried Draces. “Curse me, Cadmus, if you do not rescue me from your vicious bitch this instant, you will surely suffer severely!”
But Cadmus did not hear, and he certainly would not have responded if he had. He was by that time, in fact, a substantial distance down the zig-zag path on his way to the foot of the hill. Reacting more shrewdly and promptly than Draces to the occasion, he had immediately fallen flat on his face when the impetuous command to advance had been given. He had thus avoided being trapped by the surge that had carried Draces to his unfortunate engagement with Nausica. To be sure, he was somewhat trampled by the old men, but this was, in his judgment, preferable to being beaten and scalded.
Behind him on the path, he could hear the groans and wheezing of Draces’ retreating troops. The old fools, so far as he could see, were as great a menace as the rebellious women, and they could not understand that a man with a philosophical turn of mind simply was not cut out for this sort of rude business. It was true, of course, that Socrates himself had twice performed military service, but this was clearly exceptional and could not be taken as an example of what should be expected.
He did not even wait for the others at the foot of the hill.
13
“N AUSICA ,” SAID L YSISTRATA , “you have been inspirational and indispensable from the start, and I wish to commend you.”
“I seem to have a particular knack for
“Nausica, you shameless woman,” he said, “if you do not wish your backside roasted by this faggot which you see in my hand, I charge you to disperse your wanton rabble and return to your home this instant.”
After the conclusion of his ultimatum, which he considered conservative and well-spoken, a shrill cackling of derision rose from the body of women before the gates, and the shrillest and most terrifying of all was the cackling of Nausica herself. Draces paled perceptibly and took a quick step backward.
“Are you serious, Draces?” Nausica said. “Do you honestly expect us to submit meekly to a nasty old man who jumps out of his chiton at the first raising of a stick? It is clear from the way you hesitate and prod yourself with words that you are nothing but a windbag. If you wish to roast my backside with your faggot, I invite you to come forward and try, and I promise that you shall soon see what our pots of water are for.”
“I can bear no more!” cried Draces. “I absolutely can bear not another insult from this unspeakable woman who desecrates our shrines and mocks their keepers.” Raising his smoking faggot he flourished it again above his head, causing it to burst suddenly into flame. “Forward!” he cried. “Forward into the citadel!”
He had not intended to issue the command so precipitately. Goaded into a kind of frenzied indiscretion by Nausica’s mockery, as well as by his own brave words, he did not allow himself time to assume a more tactical position of command, slightly more to the rear, and he was caught in the sudden surge of old men and propelled in spite of himself toward the ferocious Nausica. Picking up her pot, she dowsed him thoroughly with hot water and was upon him in an instant with her terrible stick. To make matters worse, the shock of the water caused him to drop his faggot, thus depriving him of his only weapon, and all he could do, being prevented from running by the press behind him, was to dance wildly in a futile effort to avoid the stick, and to cry out in a shrill voice for immediate help. All around him was a welter of action, which was characterized primarily by flailing sticks and howling old men, and which was made all the more sinister in effect by a great hissing and boiling of steam and smoke as water struck the faggots.
“Cadmus!” cried Draces. “Curse me, Cadmus, if you do not rescue me from your vicious bitch this instant, you will surely suffer severely!”
But Cadmus did not hear, and he certainly would not have responded if he had. He was by that time, in fact, a substantial distance down the zig-zag path on his way to the foot of the hill. Reacting more shrewdly and promptly than Draces to the occasion, he had immediately fallen flat on his face when the impetuous command to advance had been given. He had thus avoided being trapped by the surge that had carried Draces to his unfortunate engagement with Nausica. To be sure, he was somewhat trampled by the old men, but this was, in his judgment, preferable to being beaten and scalded.
Behind him on the path, he could hear the groans and wheezing of Draces’ retreating troops. The old fools, so far as he could see, were as great a menace as the rebellious women, and they could not understand that a man with a philosophical turn of mind simply was not cut out for this sort of rude business. It was true, of course, that Socrates himself had twice performed military service, but this was clearly exceptional and could not be taken as an example of what should be expected.
He did not even wait for the others at the foot of the hill.
13
“N AUSICA ,” SAID L YSISTRATA , “you have been inspirational and indispensable from the start, and I wish to commend you.”
“I seem to have a particular knack for
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