THE ACHARNIANS

The play begins with Dikaiopolis sitting all alone on the Pnyx (the hill where the Athenian
Assembly or ecclesia regularly meets to discuss matters of state). He is middle-aged, he
looks bored and frustrated and soon he begins to vent his thoughts and feelings to the
audience. He reveals his weariness with the Peloponnesian War, his longing to go home to
his village, his impatience with the ecclesia for its failure to start on time and his resolve to
heckle speakers who won't debate an end to the war. Soon some citizens do arrive, all
pushing and shoving to get the best seats, and then the day's business begins.
A series of important speakers addresses the assembly but the subject is not peace and,
true to his earlier promise, Dikaiopolis comments loudly on their appearance and probable
motives. First of all there is the ambassador who has returned from the Persian court after
many years, complaining of the lavish hospitality he has had to endure from his Persian
hosts; then there is the Persian grandee, The Eye of the Great King, Pseudartabas,
sporting a gigantic eye and mumbling gibberish, accompanied by some eunuchs who turn
out to be a disreputable pair of effete Athenians in disguise; next is the ambassador
recently returned from Thrace, blaming the icy conditions in the north for his long stay there
at the public's expense; and lastly there is the rabble of Odomantians who are presented as
elite mercenaries willing to fight for Athens but who hungrily steal the protagonist's lunch.
Peace is not discussed. It is in the ecclesia however that Dikaiopolis meets Amphitheus, a
man who claims to be the immortal great-great-grandson of Triptolemus and Demeter and
who claims moreover that he can obtain peace with the Spartans privately. Dikaiopolis
accepts his claims and he pays him eight drachmas to bring him a private peace, which in
fact Amphitheus manages to do.
Dikaiopolis celebrates his private peace with a private celebration of the Rural Dionysia,
beginning with a small parade outside his own house. He and his household however are
immediately set upon by a mob of aged farmers and charcoal burners from Acharnae –
tough veterans of past wars who hate the Spartans for destroying their farms and who hate
anyone who talks peace. They are not amenable to rational argument so Dikaiopolis grabs
a hostage and a sword and demands the old men leave him alone. The hostage is a basket
of Acharnian charcoal but the old men have a sentimental spot for anything from Acharnia
(or maybe they are simply caught up in the drama of the moment) and they agree to leave
Dikaiopolis in peace if only he will spare the charcoal. The importance of the
manufacturing and selling of charcoal. This is further justification for the dissenters'
exaggerated response. He surrenders the hostage but he now wants more than just to be
left alone in peace – he desperately wants the old men to believe in the justice of his cause.
He even says he is willing to speak with his head on a chopping block, if only they will hear
him out, and yet he knows how unpredictable his fellow citizens can be: he says he hasn't
forgotten how Cleon dragged him into court over 'last year's play'.
This mention of trouble with Cleon over a play indicates that Dikaiopolis represents
Aristophanes (or possibly his producer, Callistratus)[4] and maybe the author is in fact the
actor behind the mask.[5] After gaining the chorus's permission for an anti-war speech,
Dikaiopolis/Aristophanes decides he needs some special help with it and he goes next door
to the house of Euripides, an author renowned for his clever arguments. As it turns out,
however, he merely goes there to borrow a costume from one of his tragedies, Telephus, in
which the hero disguises himself as a beggar. Thus attired as a tragic hero disguised as a
beggar, and with his head on the chopping block, Dikaiopolis/Telephus/the
beggar/Aristophanes explains to the Chorus his reasons for opposing the war. The war all
started, he argues, because of the abduction of three courtesans and it is continued by
profiteers for personal gain. Half the Chorus is won over by this argument, the other half
isn't.
A fight breaks out between Acharnians for and Acharnians against Dikaiopolis/Telephus/the
beggar/Aristophanes and it only ends when the Athenian general Lamachus (who also
happens to live next door) emerges from his house and imposes himself vaingloriously on
the fray. Order is restored and the general is then questioned by the hero about the reason
why he personally supports the war against Sparta – is it out of his sense of duty or
because he gets paid? This time the whole Chorus is won over by the arguments of
Dikaiopolis. Dikaiopolis and Lamachus retire to their separate houses and there then
follows a parabasis in which the Chorus first lavishes exaggerated praise upon the author
and next laments the ill treatment that old men like themselves suffer at the hands of slick
lawyers in these fast times.
Dikaiopolis returns to the stage and sets up a private market where he and the enemies of
Athens can trade peacefully. Various minor characters come and go in farcical
circumstances. A starving Megarian trades his famished daughters, disguised as piglets, for
garlic and salt (products in which Megara had abounded in pre-war days) and then an
informer or sycophant tries to confiscate the piglets as enemy contraband before he is
driven off by Dikaiopolis. (Note that piglets meant also female genitals). [6] Next a Boeotian
arrives with birds and eels for sale. Dikaiopolis has nothing to trade that the Boeotian could
want but he cleverly manages to interest him in a commodity that is rare in Boeotia – an
Athenian sycophant. Another sycophant happens to arrive at that very moment and he tries
to confiscate the birds and eels but instead he is packed in straw like a piece of pottery and
carried off back home by the Boeotian.
Some other visitors come and go before two heralds arrive, one calling Lamachus to war,
the other calling Dikaiopolis to a dinner party. The two men go as summoned and return
soon after, Lamachus in pain from injuries sustained in battle and with a soldier at each arm
propping him up, Dikaiopolis merrily drunk and with a dancing girl on each arm. Dikaiopolis
clamors cheerfully for a wine skin – a prize awarded to him in a drinking competition – and
then everyone exits in general celebrations (except Lamachus, who exits in pain).
THE KNIGHTS

The Knights is a satire on political and social life in 5th-century BC Athens, the characters
are drawn from real life and Cleon is clearly intended to be the villain. However it is also an
allegory, the characters are figures of fantasy and the villain in this context is Paphlagonian,
a comic monstrosity responsible for almost everything that's wrong with the world. The
identity Cleon=Paphlagonian is awkward and the ambiguities aren't easily resolved. This
summary features the real-world names Cleon, Nicias and Demosthenes(though these
names are never mentioned in the play). See Discussion for an overview of the ambiguous
use of characterization in The Knights.
Short summary: A sausage seller, Agoracritus, vies with Cleon for the confidence and
approval of Demos ('The People' in Greek), an elderly man who symbolizes the Athenian
citizenry. Agoracritus emerges triumphant from a series of contests and he restores Demos
to his former glory.
Detailed summary: Nicias and Demosthenes run from a house in Athens, complaining of a
beating that they have just received from their master, Demos, and cursing their fellow
slave, Cleon, as the cause of their troubles. They inform the audience that Cleon has
wheedled his way into Demos's confidence and they accuse him of misusing his privileged
position for the purpose of extortion and corruption. They advise us that even the mask-
makers are afraid of Cleon and not one of them could be persuaded to make a caricature of
him for this play. They assure us however that we are clever enough to recognize him even
without a mask. Having no idea how to solve their problems, they pilfer some wine from the
house, the taste of which inspires them to an even bolder theft – a set of oracles that Cleon
has always refused to let anyone else see. On reading these stolen oracles, they learn that
Cleon is one of several peddlers destined to rule the polis and that it is his fate to be
replaced by a sausage seller. As chance would have it, a sausage seller passes by at that
very moment, carrying a portable kitchen. Demosthenes informs him of his destiny. The
sausage seller is not convinced at first but Demosthenes points out the myriads of people
in the theatre and he assures him that his skills with sausages are all that is needed to
govern them. Cleon's suspicions meanwhile have been aroused and he rushes from the
house in search of trouble. He immediately finds an empty wine bowl and he loudly
accuses the others of treason. Demosthenes calls upon the knights of Athens for
assistance and a Chorus of them charges into the theatre. They converge on Cleon in
military formation under instructions from their leader:
Hit him, hit him, hit the villain hateful to the cavalry,
Tax-collecting, all-devouring monster of a lurking thief!
Villain, villain! I repeat it, I repeat it constantly,
With good reason since this thief reiterates his villainy![3]
Cleon is given rough handling and the Chorus leader accuses him of manipulating the
political and legal system for personal gain. Cleon bellows to the audience for help and
the Chorus urges the sausage-seller to outshout him. There follows a shouting match
between Cleon and the sausage seller with vulgar boasts and vainglorious threats on
both sides as each man strives to demonstrate that he is a more shameless and
unscrupulous orator than the other. The knights proclaim the sausage-seller the winner
of the argument and Cleon then rushes off to the Boule to denounce them all on a
trumped-up charge of treason. The sausage seller sets off in pursuit and the action
pauses for a parabasis, during which the Chorus steps forward to address the
audience on behalf of the author.
The Chorus informs us that Aristophanes has been very methodical and cautious in the
way he has approached his career as a comic poet and we are invited to applaud him.
The knights then deliver a speech in praise of the older generation, the men who made
Athens great, and this is followed by a speech in praise of horses that performed
heroically in a recent amphibious assault on Corinth, whither they are imagined to have
rowed in gallant style.
Returning to the stage, the sausage seller reports to the knights on his battle with
Cleon for control of the Council – he has outbid Cleon for the support of the councillors
with offers of meals at the state's expense. Indignant at his defeat, Cleon rushes onto
the stage and challenges the sausage-seller to submit their differences to Demos. The
sausage seller accepts the challenge. They call Demos outdoors and compete with
each other in flattering him like rivals for the affections of an eromenos. He agrees to
hear them debating their differences and he takes up his position on the Pnyx (here
represented possibly as a bench).[4] The sausage-seller makes some serious
accusations in the first half of the debate: Cleon is indifferent to the war-time sufferings
of ordinary people, he has used the war as an opportunity for corruption and he
prolongs the war out of fear that he will be prosecuted when peace returns. Demos is
won over by these arguments and he spurns Cleon's wheedling appeals for sympathy.
Thereafter the sausage seller's accusations become increasingly absurd: Cleon is
accused of waging a campaign against buggery in order to stifle opposition (because
all the best orators are buggers) and he is said to have brought down the price of
silphium so that jurors who bought it would suffocate each other with their flatulence.
Cleon loses the debate but he doesn't lose hope and there are two further contests in
which he competes with the sausage seller for Demos's favour – a) the reading of
oracles flattering to Demos; b) a race to see which of them can best serve pampered
Demos's every need. The sausage seller wins each contest by outdoing Cleon in
shamelessness. Cleon makes one last effort to retain his privileged position in the
household – he possesses an oracle that describes his successor and he questions the
sausage seller to see if he matches the description in all its vulgar details. The sausage
seller does match the description. In tragic dismay, Cleon at last accepts his fate and
he surrenders his authority to the sausage-seller. Demos asks the sausage seller for
his name and we learn that it is Agoracritus, confirming his lowly origin. The actors
depart and the Chorus treats us to another parabasis.
The knights step forward and they advise us that it is honourable to mock
dishonourable people. They proceed to mock Ariphrades, an Athenian with a perverse
appetite for female secretions. Next they recount an imaginary conversation between
some respectable ships that have refused to carry the war to Carthage because the
voyage was proposed by Hyperbolus, a man they despise. Then Agoracritus returns to
the stage, calling for respectful silence and announcing a new development – he has
rejuvenated Demos with a good boiling (just as if he were a piece of meat). The doors
of Demos's house open to reveal impressive changes in Demos's appearance – he is
now the very image of glorious 'violet-crowned' Athens, as once commemorated in a
song by Pindar. Agoracritus presents his transformed master with a "well-hung"
boy[5] and with the Peacetreaties – two girls that Cleon had been keeping locked up in
order to prolong the war. Demos invites Agoracritus to a banquet at the town hall and
the entire cast exits in good cheer – all except Cleon, who is required to sell sausages
at the city gate as punishment for his crimes.
THE CLOUDS

The play begins with Strepsiades suddenly sitting up in bed while his son, Pheidippides,
remains blissfully asleep in the bed next to him. Strepsiades complains to the audience that
he is too worried about household debts to get any sleep – his wife (the pampered product
of an aristocratic clan) has encouraged their son's expensive interest in horses.
Strepsiades, having thought up a plan to get out of debt, wakes the youth gently and pleads
with him to do something for him. Pheidippides at first agrees to do as he's asked then
changes his mind when he learns that his father wants to enroll him in The Thinkery, a
school for wastrels and bums that no self-respecting, athletic young man dares to be
associated with. Strepsiades explains that students of The Thinkery learn how to turn
inferior arguments into winning arguments and this is the only way he can beat their
aggrieved creditors in court. Pheidippides however will not be persuaded and Strepsiades
decides to enroll himself in The Thinkery in spite of his advanced age.
There he meets a student who tells him about some of the recent discoveries made by
Socrates, the head of The Thinkery, including a new unit of measurement for ascertaining
the distance jumped by a flea (a flea's foot, created from a minuscule imprint in wax), the
exact cause of the buzzing noise made by a gnat (its rear end resembles a trumpet) and a
new use for a large pair of compasses (as a kind of fishing-hook for stealing cloaks from
pegs over the gymnasium wall). Impressed, Strepsiades begs to be introduced to the man
behind these discoveries. The wish is soon granted: Socrates appears overhead, wafted in
a basket at the end of a rope, the better to observe the Sun and other meteorological
phenomena. The philosopher descends and quickly begins the induction ceremony for the
new elderly student, the highlight of which is a parade of the Clouds, the patron goddesses
of thinkers and other layabouts. The Clouds arrive singing majestically of the regions
whence they arose and of the land they have now come to visit, loveliest in all being
Greece. Introduced to them as a new devotee, Strepsiades begs them to make him the
best orator in Greece by a hundred miles. They reply with the promise of a brilliant future.
Socrates leads him into the dingy Thinkery for his first lesson and The Clouds step forward
to address the audience.
Putting aside their cloud-like costumes, The Chorus declares that this is the author's
cleverest play and that it cost him the greatest effort. It reproaches the audience for the
play's failure at the festival, where it was beaten by the works of inferior authors, and it
praises the author for originality and for his courage in lampooning influential politicians
such as Cleon. The Chorus then resumes its appearance as clouds, promising divine
favours if the audience punishes Cleon for corruption and rebuking Athenians for messing
about with the calendar, since this has put Athens out of step with the moon.
Socrates returns to the stage in a huff, protesting against the ineptitude of his new elderly
student. He summons Strepsiades outside and attempts further lessons, including a form of
meditative incubation in which the old man lies under a blanket while thoughts are
supposed to arise in his mind naturally. The incubation results in Strepsiades masturbating
under the blanket and finally Socrates refuses to have anything more to do with him. The
Clouds advise him to find someone younger to do the learning for him. His son,
Pheidippides, subsequently yields to threats by Strepsiades and reluctantly returns with him
to the Thinkery, where they encounter the personified arguments Superior (Right) and
Inferior (Wrong), associates of Socrates. Superior Argument and Inferior Argument debate
with each other over which of them can offer the best education. Superior Argument sides
with Justice and the gods, offering to prepare Pheidippides for an earnest life of discipline,
typical of men who respect the old ways; Inferior Argument, denying the existence of
Justice, offers to prepare him for a life of ease and pleasure, typical of men who know how
to talk their way out of trouble. At the end of the debate, a quick survey of the audience
reveals that buggers – people schooled by Inferior Arguments – have got into the most
powerful positions in Athens. Superior Argument accepts his inevitable defeat, Inferior
Argument leads Pheidippides into the Thinkery for a life-changing education and
Strepsiades goes home happy. The Clouds step forward to address the audience a second
time, demanding to be awarded first place in the festival competition, in return for which
they promise good rains – otherwise they'll destroy crops, smash roofs and spoil weddings.
The story resumes with Strepsiades returning to The Thinkery to fetch his son. A new
Pheidippides emerges, startlingly transformed into the pale nerd and intellectual man that
he had once feared to become. Rejoicing in the prospect of talking their way out of financial
trouble, Strepsiades leads the youth home for celebrations, just moments before the first of
their aggrieved creditors arrives with a witness to summon him to court. Strepsiades comes
back on stage, confronts the creditor and dismisses him contemptuously. A second creditor
arrives and receives the same treatment before Strepsiades returns indoors to continue the
celebrations. The Clouds sing ominously of a looming debacle and Strepsiades again
comes back on stage, now in distress, complaining of a beating that his new son has just
given him in a dispute over the celebrations. Pheidippides emerges coolly and insolently
debates with his father a father's right to beat his son and a son's right to beat his father. He
ends by threatening to beat his mother also, whereupon Strepsiades flies into a rage
against The Thinkery, blaming Socrates for his latest troubles. He leads his slaves, armed
with torches and mattocks, in a frenzied attack on the disreputable school. The alarmed
students are pursued offstage and the Chorus, with nothing to celebrate, quietly departs
THE WASPS

The play begins with a strange scene—a large net has been spread over a house, the entry
is barricaded and two slaves are sleeping in the street outside. A third man is positioned at
the top of an exterior wall with a view into the inner courtyard but he too is asleep. The two
slaves wake and we learn from their banter that they are keeping guard over a 'monster'.
The man asleep above them is their master and the monster is his father—he has an
unusual disease. The two slaves challenge the audience to guess the nature of the
disease. Addictions to gambling, drink and good times are suggested but they are all wrong
—the father is addicted to the law court: he is a phileliastes (φιληλιαστής) or a "trialophile."
We are then told that his name is Philocleon (which suggests that he might be addicted
to Cleon) and his son's name is the very opposite of this—Bdelycleon. The symptoms of
the old man's addiction are described for us and they include irregular sleep, obsessional
thinking, paranoia, poor hygiene and hoarding.[3] We are told that counselling, medical
treatment and travel have all failed to solve the problem and now his son has turned the
house into a prison to keep the old man away from the law courts. Bdelycleon wakes and
he shouts to the two slaves to be on their guard—his father is moving about. He tells them
to watch the drains, for the old man can move like a mouse, but Philocleon surprises them
all by emerging instead from the chimney disguised as smoke. Bdelycleon is luckily on
hand to push him back inside. Other attempts at escape are also barely defeated. The
household settles down for some more sleep and then the Chorus arrives—old jurors who
move warily (the roads are muddy), they are escorted by boys with lamps (it is still dark).
Learning of their old comrade's imprisonment, they leap to his defense and swarm around
Bdelycleon and his slaves like wasps. At the end of this fray, Philocleon is still barely in his
son's custody and both sides are willing to settle the issue peacefully through debate.
The debate is between the father and the son and it focuses on the advantages that the old
man personally derives from voluntary jury service. Philocleon says he enjoys the flattering
attentions of rich and powerful men who appeal to him for a favourable verdict, he enjoys
the freedom to interpret the law as he pleases since his decisions are not subject to review,
and his juror's pay gives him independence and authority within his own household.
Bdelycleon responds to these points with the argument that jurors are in fact subject to the
demands of petty officials and they get paid less than they deserve—revenues from the
empire go mostly into the private treasuries of men like Cleon. These arguments have a
paralysing effect on Philocleon. The Chorus is won over. Philocleon however is still not able
to give up his old ways just yet so Bdelycleon offers to turn the house into a courtroom and
to pay him a juror's fee to judge domestic disputes. Philocleon agrees and a case is soon
brought before him—a dispute between the household dogs. One dog (who looks like
Cleon) accuses the other dog (who looks like Laches) of stealing a Sicilian cheese and not
sharing it. Witnesses for the defense include a bowl, a pestle, a cheese-grater, a brazier
and a pot. As these are unable to speak, Bdelycleon says a few words for them on behalf of
the accused and then some puppies (the children of the accused) are ushered in to soften
the heart of the old juror with their plaintive cries. Philocleon is not softened but his son
easily fools him into putting his vote into the urn for acquittal. The old juror is deeply
shocked by the outcome of the trial—he is used to convictions—but his son promises him a
good time and they exit the stage to prepare for some entertainment.
While the actors are offstage, the Chorus addresses the audience in a
conventional parabasis. It praises the author for standing up to monsters like Cleon and it
chastises the audience for its failure to appreciate the merits of the author's previous play
(The Clouds). It praises the older generation, evokes memories of the victory at Marathon,
and bitterly deplores the gobbling up of imperial revenues by unworthy men. Father and
son then return to the stage, now arguing with each other over the old man's choice of
attire. He is addicted to his old juryman's cloak and his old shoes and he is suspicious of
the fancy woollen garment and the fashionable Spartan footwear that Bdelycleon wants him
to wear that evening to a sophisticated dinner party. The fancy clothes are forced upon him
and then he is instructed in the kind of manners and conversation that the other guests will
expect of him. Philocleon declares his reluctance to drink any wine—it causes trouble, he
says—but Bdelycleon assures him that sophisticated men of the world can easily talk their
way out of trouble and so they depart optimistically for the evening's entertainment. There
is then a second parabasis (see Note at end of this section), in which the Chorus touches
briefly on a conflict between Cleon and the author, after which a household slave arrives
with news for the audience about the old man's appalling behaviour at the dinner party:
Philocleon has got himself abusively drunk, he has insulted all his son's fashionable friends
and now he is assaulting anyone he meets on the way home. The slave departs as
Philocleon arrives, now with aggrieved victims on his heels and a pretty flute girl on his
arm. Bdelycleon appears moments later and angrily remonstrates with his father for
kidnapping the flute girl from the party. Philocleon pretends that she is in fact a torch. His
son isn't fooled and he tries to take the girl back to the party by force but his father knocks
him down. Other people with grievances against Philocleon continue to arrive, demanding
compensation and threatening legal action. He makes an ironic attempt to talk his way out
of trouble like a sophisticated man of the world but it inflames the situation further and
finally his alarmed son drags him indoors. The Chorus sings briefly about how difficult it is
for men to change their habits and it commends the son for filial devotion, after which the
entire cast returns to the stage for some spirited dancing by Philocleon in a contest with the
sons of Carcinus.
Note: Some editors (such as Barrett) exchange the second parabasis (lines 1265–91) with
the song (lines 1450–73) in which Bdelycleon is commended for filial devotion.

PEACE
Short summary: Trygaeus, a middle-aged Athenian, miraculously brings about a peaceful
end to the Peloponnesian War, thereby earning the gratitude of farmers while bankrupting
various tradesmen who had profited from the hostilities. He celebrates his triumph by
marrying Harvest, a companion of Festival and Peace, all of whom he has liberated from a
celestial prison.
Detailed summary: Two slaves are frantically working outside an ordinary house in
Athens, kneading unusually large lumps of dough and carrying them one by one into the
stable. We soon learn from their banter that it is not dough but excrement gathered from
various sources—they are feeding a giant dung beetle that their crazy master has brought
home from the Mount Etna region and on which he intends flying to a private audience with
the gods. This startling revelation is confirmed moments later by the sudden appearance of
Trygaeus on the back of the dung beetle, rising above the house and hovering in an
alarmingly unsteady manner. His two slaves, his neighbours and his children take fright and
they plead with him to come back down to earth. He steadies the spirited beetle, he shouts
comforting words to his children and he appeals to the audience not to distract his mount
by farting or shitting any time in the next three days. His mission, he declares, is to reason
with the gods about the war or, if they will not listen, he will prosecute the gods for treason
against Greece. Then he soars across the stage heavenwards.
Arriving outside the house of the gods, Trygaeus discovers that only Hermes is home.
Hermes informs him that the others have packed up and departed for some remote refuge
where they hope never to be troubled again by the war or the prayers of humankind. He
has stayed back, he says, only to make some final arrangements and meanwhile the new
occupant of the house has already moved in – War. War, he says, has imprisoned Peace in
a cave nearby. Just then, as chance would have it, War comes grumbling and growling
outdoors, carrying a gigantic mortar in which he intends grinding the Greeks to paste.
Trygaeus discovers by eavesdropping that War no longer has a pestle to use with his
gigantic mortar – the pestles he had hoped to use on the Greeks are both dead, for one
was Cleon and the other was Brasidas, the leaders of the pro-war factions in Athens and
Sparta respectively, both of whom have recently perished in battle. War goes back indoors
to get himself a new one and Trygaeus boldly takes this opportunity to summon Greeks
everywhere to come and help him set Peace free while there is still time. A Chorus of
excited Greeks from various city-states arrives as prompted but they are so excited they
cannot stop dancing at first. Eventually they get to work, pulling boulders from the cave's
mouth under supervision by Trygaeus and Hermes. Some of the Greeks are more of a
hindrance than a help and real progress is only made by the farmers. At last Peace and her
companions, Festival and Harvest, are brought to light, appearing as visions of ineffable
beauty. Hermes then tells the gathering why Peace had left them many years earlier – she
had been driven away by politicians who were profiting from the war. In fact she had tried to
come back several times, he says, but each time the Athenians had voted against her in
their Assembly. Trygaeus apologizes to Peace on behalf of his countrymen, he updates her
on the latest theatre gossip (Sophocles is now as venal as Simonides and Cratinus died in
a drunken apoplexy) and then he leaves her to enjoy her freedom while he sets off again
for Athens, taking Harvest and Festival back with him – Harvest because she is now his
betrothed, Festival because she is to be female entertainment for the Boule or Council. The
Chorus then steps forward to address the audience in a conventional parabasis.
The Chorus praises the author for his originality as a dramatist, for his courageous
opposition to monsters like Cleon and for his genial disposition. It recommends him
especially to bald men. It quotes songs of the 7th century BC poet Stesichorus[3] and it
condemns contemporary dramatists like Carcinus, Melanthius and Morsimus. The Chorus
resumes its place and Trygaeus returns to the stage. He declares that the audience looked
like a bunch of rascals when seen from the heavens and they look even worse when seen
up close. He sends Harvest indoors to prepare for their wedding and he delivers Festival to
the archon sitting in the front row. He then prepares for a religious service in honour of
Peace. A lamb is sacrificed indoors, prayers are offered and Trygaeus starts barbecuing the
meat. The fragrance of roast lamb soon attracts an oracle monger who proceeds to hover
about the scene in quest of a free meal, as is the custom among oracle-mongers. He is
driven off with a good thrashing. Trygaeus goes indoors to prepare for his wedding and the
Chorus steps forward again for another parabasis.
The Chorus sings lovingly of winter afternoons spent with friends in front of a kitchen fire in
the countryside in times of peace when rain soaks into the newly sown fields and there is
nothing to do but enjoy the good life. The tone soon changes however as the Chorus
recalls the regimental drill and the organizational stuff-ups that have been the bane of the
ordinary civilian soldier's life until now and it contemplates in bitterness the officers who
have been lions at home and mere foxes in the field. The tone brightens again as Trygaeus
returns to the stage, dressed for the festivities of a wedding. Tradesmen and merchants
begin to arrive singly and in pairs – a sickle-maker and a jar-maker whose businesses are
flourishing again now that peace has returned, and others whose businesses are failing.
The sickle-maker and jar-maker present Trygaeus with wedding presents and Trygaeus
offers suggestions to the others about what they can do with their merchandise: helmet
crests can be used as dusters, spears as vine props, breastplates as chamber pots,
trumpets as scales for weighing figs, and helmets could serve as mixing bowls for
Egyptians in need of emetics or enemas. The sons of wedding guests practise their songs
outdoors and one of the boys begins rehearsing Homer's epic song of war. Trygaeus sends
him back indoors as he cannot stomach any mention of war. Another boy sings a famous
song by Archilochus celebrating an act of cowardice and this does not impress Trygaeus
either. He announces the commencement of the wedding feast and he opens up the house
for celebrations: Hymen Hymenai'O! Hymen Hymenai'O!
THE BIRDS

The play begins with two middle-aged men stumbling across a hillside wilderness, guided
by a pet crow and a pet jackdaw. One of them advises the audience that they are fed up
with life in Athens, where people do nothing all day but argue over laws, and they are
looking for Tereus, a king who was once metamorphosed into the Hoopoe, for they believe
he might help them find a better life somewhere else. Just then a very large and fearsome
bird emerges from a camouflaged bower, demanding to know what they are up to and
accusing them of being bird-catchers. He turns out to be the Hoopoe's servant. They
appease him and he returns indoors to fetch his master. Moments later the Hoopoe himself
appears—a not very convincing bird who attributes his lack of feathers to a severe case of
moulting. He is happy to discuss their plight with them and meanwhile one of them has a
brilliant idea—the birds, he says, should stop flying about like idiots and instead should
build themselves a great city in the sky, since this would not only allow them to lord it over
men, it would also enable them to blockade the Olympian gods in the same way that the
Athenians had recently starved the island of Melos into submission. The Hoopoe likes the
idea and he agrees to help implement it, provided of course that the two Athenians can first
convince all the other birds. He calls to his wife, the Nightingale, and bids her to begin her
celestial music. The notes of an unseen flute swell through the theatre and meanwhile the
Hoopoe provides the lyrics, summoning the birds of the world from their different habitats—
birds of the fields, mountain birds and birds of the trees, birds of the waterways, marshes
and seas. These soon begin to appear and each of them is identified by name on arrival.
Four of them dance together while the rest form into a Chorus.
On discovering the presence of men, the newly arrived birds fly into a fit of alarm and
outrage, for mankind has long been their enemy. A skirmish follows, during which the
Athenians defend themselves with kitchen utensils they find outside the Hoopoe's bower,
until the Hoopoe at last manages to persuade the Chorus to give his human guests a fair
hearing. The cleverer of the two Athenians, the author of the brilliant idea, then delivers a
formal speech, advising the birds that they were the original gods and urging them to regain
their lost powers and privileges from the johnny-come-lately Olympians. The birds are
completely won over and urge the Athenians to lead them in their war against the usurping
gods. The clever one then introduces himself as Pisthetaerus (Trustyfriend) and his
companion is introduced as Euelpides (Goodhope). They retire to the Hoopoe's bower to
chew on a magical root that will transform them into birds. Meanwhile, the Nightingale
emerges from her hiding place and reveals herself as an enchantingly feminine figure. She
presides over the Chorus of birds while they address the audience in a
conventional parabasis:
Hear us, you who are no more than leaves always falling, you mortals benighted by
nature,
You enfeebled and powerless creatures of earth always haunting a world of mere
shadows,
Entities without wings, insubstantial as dreams, you ephemeral things, you human
beings:
Turn your minds to our words, our etherial words, for the words of the birds last
forever![5]
The Chorus delivers a brief account of the genealogy of the gods, claiming that the
birds are children of Eros and grandchildren of Night and Erebus, thus establishing
their claim to divinity ahead of the Olympians. It cites some of the benefits the audience
derives from birds (such as early warnings of a change in seasons) and it invites the
audience to join them since birds easily manage to do things mere men are afraid to do
(such as beating up their fathers and committing adultery).
Pisthetaerus and Euelpides emerge from the Hoopoe's bower laughing at each other's
unconvincing resemblance to a bird. After discussion, they name the city-in-the-
sky Nubicuculia, or literally "cloud-cuckoo-land" (Νεφελοκοκκυγία), and then
Pisthetaerus begins to take charge of things, ordering his friend to oversee the building
of the city walls while he organizes and leads a religious service in honour of birds as
the new gods. During this service, he is pestered by a variety of unwelcome visitors
including a young versifier out to hire himself to the new city as its official poet, an
oracle-monger with prophecies for sale, a famous geometer, Meton, offering a set of
town-plans, an imperial inspector from Athens with an eye for a quick profit, and a
statute-seller trying to peddle a set of laws originally written for a remote, barely-heard-
of town called Olophyx. Pisthetaerus chases off all these intruders and then retires
indoors to finish the religious service. The birds of the Chorus step forward for another
parabasis. They promulgate laws forbidding crimes against their kind (such as
catching, caging, stuffing, or eating them) and they end by advising the festival judges
to award them first place or risk getting defecated on.
Pisthetaerus returns to the stage moments before a messenger arrives with a report on
the construction of the new walls: they are already finished thanks to the collaborative
efforts of numerous kinds of birds. A second messenger then arrives with news that
one of the Olympian gods has sneaked through the defenses. A hunt is organized, the
goddess Iris is detected and cornered and soon she wafts down under guard. After
being interrogated and insulted by Pisthetaerus, she is allowed to fly off to her
father Zeus to complain about her treatment. Hardly has she gone when a third
messenger arrives, declaring that men in their multitudes are now flocking to join the
new city-in-the-sky. Another set of unwelcome visitors arrives as advertised, singing
due to the inspiration of the new city. One is a rebellious youth who exults in the notion
that here at last he has permission to beat up his father. The famous poet, Cinesias, is
next, waxing incoherently lyrical as the poetic mood takes hold of him. Third is a
sycophant in raptures at the thought of prosecuting victims on the wing. All of them are
sent packing by the Pisthetaerus. Prometheus arrives next, sheltering under a parasol
because he is an enemy of Zeus and he is trying not to be seen from the heavens. He
has come with advice for Pisthetaerus: the Olympians are starving because men's
offerings no longer reach them; they are desperate for a peace treaty but Pisthetaerus
shouldn't negotiate with them until Zeus surrenders both his sceptre and his
girlfriend, Sovereignty—she is the real power in Zeus's household. His mission
accomplished, Prometheus departs just moments before a delegation from Zeus
arrives. There are only three delegates: the brother of Zeus, Poseidon, the
oafish Heracles and some even more oafish god worshipped by barbarians called
Triballians. Pisthetaerus easily outwits Heracles, who in turn bullies the barbarian god
into submission, and Poseidon is thus outvoted – the delegation accepts Pisthetaerus's
terms. He is proclaimed king by a heavenly herald and he is presented with Zeus's
sceptre by Sovereignty, a vision of loveliness. The festive gathering departs amid the
strains of the wedding march: Hymen O Hymenai'O! Hymen O Hymenai'O!
LYSYSTRATA

LYSISTRATA
There are a lot of things about us women
That sadden me, considering how men
See us as rascals.
CALONICE
As indeed we are!

These lines, spoken by the Athenian Lysistrata and her friend Calonice at the beginning of
the play,[3] set the scene for the action that follows. Women, as represented by Calonice,
are sly hedonists in need of firm guidance and direction. Lysistrata, however, is an
extraordinary woman with a large sense of individual and social responsibility. She has
convened a meeting of women from various Greek city states that are at war with each
other (there is no mention of how she managed this feat) and, very soon after she confides
in her friend her concerns for the female sex, the women begin arriving.
With support from the Spartan Lampito, Lysistrata persuades the other women to withhold
sexual privileges from their menfolk as a means of forcing them to end the
interminable Peloponnesian War. The women are very reluctant, but the deal is sealed with
a solemn oath around a wine bowl, Lysistrata choosing the words and Calonice repeating
them on behalf of the other women. It is a long and detailed oath, in which the women
abjure all their sexual pleasures, including the Lioness on the Cheese Grater (a sexual
position).
Soon after the oath is finished, a cry of triumph is heard from the nearby Acropolis—the old
women of Athens have seized control of it at Lysistrata's instigation, since it holds the state
treasury, without which the men cannot long continue to fund their war. Lampito goes off to
spread the word of revolt, and the other women retreat behind the barred gates of the
Acropolis to await the men's response.
A Chorus of Old Men arrives, intent on burning down the gate of the Acropolis if the women
do not open up. Encumbered with heavy timbers, inconvenienced with smoke and
burdened with old age, they are still making preparations to assault the gate when a
Chorus of Old Women arrives, bearing pitchers of water. The Old Women complain about
the difficulty they had getting the water, but they are ready for a fight in defense of their
younger comrades. Threats are exchanged, water beats fire, and the Old Men are
discomfited with a soaking.
The magistrate then arrives with some Scythian Archers (the Athenian version of police
constables). He reflects on the hysterical nature of women, their devotion to wine,
promiscuous sex, and exotic cults (such as to Sabazius and Adonis), but above all he
blames men for poor supervision of their womenfolk. He has come for silver from the state
treasury to buy oars for the fleet and he instructs his Scythians to begin levering open the
gate. However, they are quickly overwhelmed by groups of unruly women with such unruly
names as σπερμαγοραιολεκιθολαχανοπώλιδες (seed-market-porridge-vegetable-sellers)
and σκοροδοπανδοκευτριαρτοπώλιδες (garlic-innkeeping-bread-sellers).[4]
Lysistrata restores order and she allows the magistrate to question her. She explains to him
the frustrations women feel at a time of war when the men make stupid decisions that affect
everyone, and their wives' opinions are not listened to. She drapes her headdress over
him, gives him a basket of wool and tells him that war will be a woman's business from now
on. She then explains the pity she feels for young, childless women, ageing at home while
the men are away on endless campaigns. When the magistrate points out that men also
age, she reminds him that men can marry at any age whereas a woman has only a short
time before she is considered too old. She then dresses the magistrate like a corpse for
laying out, with a wreath and a fillet, and advises him that he's dead. Outraged at these
indignities, he storms off to report the incident to his colleagues, while Lysistrata returns to
the Acropolis.
The debate or agon is continued between the Chorus of Old Men and the Chorus of Old
Women until Lysistrata returns to the stage with some news—her comrades are desperate
for sex and they are beginning to desert on the silliest pretexts (for example, one woman
says she has to go home to air her fabrics by spreading them on the bed). After rallying her
comrades and restoring their discipline, Lysistrata again returns to the Acropolis to continue
waiting for the men's surrender.
A man suddenly appears, desperate for sex. It is Kinesias, the husband of Myrrhine.
Lysistrata instructs her to torture him and Myrrhine then informs Kinesias that she can't
have sex with him until he stops the war. He promptly agrees to these terms and the young
couple prepares for sex on the spot. Myrrhine fetches a bed, then a mattress, then a pillow,
then a blanket, then a flask of oil, exasperating her husband with delays until finally
disappointing him completely by locking herself in the Acropolis again. The Chorus of Old
Men commiserates with the young man in a plaintive song.
A Spartan herald then appears with a large burden (an erection) scarcely hidden inside his
tunic and he requests to see the ruling council to arrange peace talks. The magistrate, now
also sporting a prodigious burden, laughs at the herald's embarrassing situation but agrees
that peace talks should begin.
They go off to fetch the delegates; and, while they are gone, the Old Women make
overtures to the Old Men. The Old Men are content to be comforted and fussed over by the
Old Women; and thereupon the two Choruses merge, singing and dancing in unison.
Peace talks commence and Lysistrata introduces the Spartan and Athenian delegates to a
gorgeous young woman called Reconciliation. The delegates cannot take their eyes off the
young woman; and meanwhile, Lysistrata scolds both sides for past errors of judgment.
The delegates briefly squabble over the peace terms; but, with Reconciliation before them
and the burden of sexual deprivation still heavy upon them, they quickly overcome their
differences and retire to the Acropolis for celebrations.
Another choral song follows; and, after a bit of humorous dialogue between tipsy dinner
guests, the celebrants all return to the stage for a final round of songs, the men and women
dancing together. All sing a merry song in praise of Athene, goddess of wisdom and
chastity, whose citadel provided a refuge for the women during the events of the comedy,
and whose implied blessing has brought about a happy ending to the play

THESMOPHORIOUZAI
Today the women at the festival
Are going to kill me for insulting them![4]
This bold statement by Euripides is the absurd premise upon which the whole play
depends. The women are incensed by his plays' portrayal of the female sex as
mad, murderous, and sexually depraved, and they are using the festival of
the Thesmophoria (an annual fertility celebration dedicated to Demeter) as an
opportunity to debate a suitable choice of revenge.
Fearful of their powers, Euripides seeks out a fellow tragedian, Agathon, in the
hope of persuading him to spy for him and to be his advocate at the festival – a
role that would require him to go disguised as a woman. Agathon is already
dressed as a woman, in preparation for a play, but he believes that the women of
Athens are jealous of him and he refuses to attend the festival for fear of being
discovered. Euripides' aged in-law (never named within the play but recorded in the
'dramatis personae' as Mnesilochus) then offers to go in Agathon's place. Euripides
shaves him, dresses him in women's clothes borrowed from Agathon and finally
sends him off to the Thesmophorion, the venue of the women's secret rites.
There, the women are discovered behaving like citizens of a democracy,
conducting an assembly much as men do, with appointed officials and carefully
maintained records and procedures. Top of the agenda for that day is Euripides.
Two women – Micca and a myrtle vendor – summarize their grievances against
him. According to Micca, Euripides has taught men not to trust women, this has
made them more vigilant and that in turn makes it impossible for women to help
themselves to the household stores. According to the myrtle vendor, his plays
promote atheism and this makes it difficult for her to sell her myrtle wreaths.
Mnesilochus then speaks up, declaring that the behaviour of women is in fact far
worse than Euripides has represented it. He recites in excruciating detail his own
(imaginary) sins as a married woman, including a sexual escapade with a boyfriend
in a tryst involving a laurel tree and a statue of Apollo.
The assembly is outraged but order is restored when a female messenger is seen
approaching. It turns out to be Cleisthenes, a notoriously effeminate homosexual,
represented in this play as the Athenian 'ambassador' for women. He has come
with the alarming news that a man disguised as a woman is spying upon them on
behalf of Euripides! Suspicion immediately falls upon Mnesilochus, being the only
member of the group whom nobody can identify. After they remove his clothes,
they discover that he is indeed a man. In a parody of a famous scene from
Euripides' 'Telephus',[5] Mnesilochus grabs Micca's baby and threatens to kill it
unless the women release him. After closer inspection, however, Mnesilochus
discovers that the 'baby' is in fact a wine skin fitted with booties. Undeterred, he still
threatens it with a knife. Micca (a devout tippler) pleads for its release but the
assembly will not negotiate with Mnesilochus and he stabs the baby anyway. Micca
catches its precious blood in a pan.
At this point, the action pauses briefly for a parabasis. Meanwhile, the male
authorities are notified of the illegal presence of a man at a women-only festival.
Mnesilochus is subsequently arrested and strapped to a plank by a Scythian
Archer (Athenian equivalent of a policeman) on the orders of a prytanis. There then
follows a series of farcical scenes in which Euripides, in a desperate attempt to
rescue Mnesilochus, comes and goes in various disguises, first as Menelaus, a
character from his own play Helen – to which Mnesilochus responds by playing out
the role of Helen – and then as Perseus, a character from another Euripidean
play, Andromeda, in which role he swoops heroically across the stage on a
theatrical crane (frequently used by Greek playwrights to allow for a deus ex
machina) – to which Mnesilochus responds by acting out the role of Andromeda.
Improbably, Euripides impersonates Echo in the same scene as he impersonates
Perseus. All these mad schemes fail.
 The tragic poet then decides to appear as himself and in this capacity he quickly
negotiates a peace with the Chorus of women, securing their co-operation with a
promise not to insult them in his future plays. The women decline to help him
release Mnesilochus (now a prisoner of the Athenian state) but they do agree not
to interfere with plans for his escape. Disguised finally as an old lady and attended
by a dancing girl and flute player, Euripides distracts the Scythian Archer long
enough to set Mnesilochus free. The Scythian attempts to apprehend them before
they can get clean away but he is steered in the wrong direction by the Chorus and
the comedy ends happily.

THE FROGS
The Frogs tells the story of the god Dionysus, who, despairing of the state of
Athens' tragedians, travels to Hades (the underworld) to bring the playwright Euripides back
from the dead. (Euripides had died the year before, in 406 BC.) He brings along his
slave Xanthias, who is smarter and braver than Dionysus. As the play opens, Xanthias and
Dionysus argue over what kind of jokes Xanthias can use to open the play. For the first half
of the play, Dionysus routinely makes critical errors, forcing Xanthias to improvise in order
to protect his master and prevent Dionysus from looking incompetent—but this only allows
Dionysus to continue to make mistakes with no consequence.
To find a reliable path to Hades, Dionysus seeks advice from his half-brother Heracles, who
had been there before in order to retrieve the hell hound Cerberus. Dionysus shows up at
his doorstep dressed in a lion-hide and carrying a club. Heracles, upon seeing the
effeminate Dionysus dressed up like himself, can't help laughing. When Dionysus asks
which road is the quickest to get to Hades, Heracles tells him that he can hang himself,
drink poison, or jump off a tower. Dionysus opts for the longer journey, which Heracles
himself had taken, across a lake (possibly Lake Acheron).
When Dionysus arrives at the lake, Charon ferries him across. Xanthias, being a slave, is
not allowed in the boat, and has to walk around it, while Dionysus is made to help row the
boat.
This is the point of the first choral interlude (parodos), sung by the eponymous chorus of
frogs (the only scene in which frogs feature in the play). Their croaking refrain
– Brekekekèx-koàx-koáx (Greek: Βρεκεκεκὲξ κοὰξ κοάξ) – greatly annoys Dionysus, who
engages in a mocking debate (agon) with the frogs. When he arrives at the shore,
Dionysus meets up with Xanthias, who teases him by claiming to see the frightening
monster Empusa. A second chorus composed of spirits of Dionysian Mystics soon appear.
The next encounter is with Aeacus, who mistakes Dionysus for Heracles due to his attire.
Still angry over Heracles' theft of Cerberus, Aeacus threatens to unleash several monsters
on him in revenge. Frightened, Dionysus trades clothes with Xanthias. A maid then arrives
and is happy to see Heracles. She invites him to a feast with virgin dancing girls, and
Xanthias is more than happy to oblige. But Dionysus quickly wants to trade back the
clothes. Dionysus, back in the Heracles lion-skin, encounters more people angry at
Heracles, and so he makes Xanthias trade a third time.
When Aeacus returns to confront the alleged Heracles (i.e., Xanthias), Xanthias offers him
his "slave" (Dionysus) for torturing, to obtain the truth as to whether or not he is really a
thief. The terrified Dionysus tells the truth that he is a god. After each is whipped, Dionysus
is brought before Aeacus' masters, and the truth is verified. The maid then catches
Xanthias and chats him up, interrupted by preparations for the contest scene.

The maid describes the Euripides-Aeschylus conflict. Euripides, who had only just recently
died, is challenging the great Aeschylus for the seat of "Best Tragic Poet" at the dinner
table of Pluto, the ruler of the underworld. A contest is held with Dionysus as judge. The two
playwrights take turns quoting verses from their plays and making fun of the other.
Euripides argues the characters in his plays are better because they are more true to life
and logical, whereas Aeschylus believes his idealized characters are better as they are
heroic and models for virtue. Aeschylus mocks Euripides' verse as predictable and
formulaic by having Euripides quote lines from many of his prologues, each time
interrupting the declamation with the same phrase "ληκύθιον ἀπώλεσεν" ("... lost his
little flask of oil"). (The passage has given rise to the term lekythion for this type of rhythmic
group in poetry.) Euripides counters by demonstrating the alleged monotony of Aeschylus'
choral songs, parodying excerpts from his works and having each citation end in the same
refrain ἰὴ κόπον οὐ πελάθεις ἐπ᾽ ἀρωγάν; ("oh, what a stroke, won't you come to the
rescue?", from Aeschylus' lost play Myrmidons). Aeschylus retorts to this by mocking
Euripides' choral meters and lyric monodies with castanets.
During the contest, Dionysus redeems himself for his earlier role as the butt of every joke.
He now rules the stage, adjudicating the contestants' squabbles fairly, breaking up their
prolonged rants, and applying a deep understanding of Greek tragedy.
To end the debate, a balance is brought in and each are told to tell a few lines into it.
Whoever's lines have the most "weight" will cause the balance to tip in their favor. Euripides
produces verses of his that mention, in turn, the ship Argo, Persuasion, and a mace.
Aeschylus responds with the river Spercheios, Death, and two crashed chariots and two
dead charioteers. Since the latter verses refer to "heavier" objects, Aeschylus wins, but
Dionysus is still unable to decide whom he will revive. He finally decides to take the poet
who gives the best advice about how to save the city. Euripides gives cleverly worded but
essentially meaningless answers while Aeschylus provides more practical advice, and
Dionysus decides to take Aeschylus back instead of Euripides. Pluto allows Aeschylus to
return to life so that Athens may be succoured in her hour of need, and invites everyone to
a round of farewell drinks. Before leaving, Aeschylus proclaims that Sophocles should have
his chair while he is gone, not Euripides.
EKKLESIOUZAI

The play begins with Praxagora emerging from a house on an Athenian street before
daybreak. She is wearing a false beard and men's clothing, and she carries a walking stick
and a lit lantern. The chorus of Athenian women enter one by one, all dressed in similar
costume. In order to be more convincingly masculine, some women have developed tans
and stopped shaving their armpits. One woman brings a basket full of yarn in order to get
some work done as the assembly fills up, to which Praxagora chastises her for this decision
as it will ruin their cover.
The women are wary of the plan and Praxagora attempts to rally them as they practice
speaking as men before the assembly. Praxagora is frustrated by the women's inability to
pretend to be men, as they swear to Demeter and Persephone rather than Apollo, address
the assembled women as ladies, and complain about the discomfort of their disguises and
their thirst. Praxagora decides that she alone is capable of speaking to the assembly and
practices a speech decrying the corrupt leaders of the city as selfish and unpatriotic
through their acts of war and personal enrichment through public funds. She proposes that
the men turn control of the government over to the women because "after all, we employ
them as stewards and treasurers in our own households." [3] She further explains that
women are superior to men because they are harder workers, devoted to tradition and do
not bother with useless innovations. As mothers, they will better protect the soldiers and
feed them extra rations, as shrewd negotiators, they will secure more funds for the city.
Praxagora impresses the women with her rhetorical skills, and explains that it was learned
from listening to orators while living with her husband on the Pnyx, where the Athenian
assembly was held. They discuss how they plan to handle opposition and practice how to
raise their hands to vote before leaving to attend the assembly by dawn in order to receive
pay and a complimentary meal. The chorus of women reiterate their intentions before
exiting the stage.
Praxagora's husband Blepyrus emerges from their house wearing Praxagora's nightgown
and slippers. He is old and desperately had to relieve himself but could not find his clothing
in the dark. As he squats in the street lamenting his constipation, his neighbor arrives and
both men realize that their wives and clothing are missing from their homes. Chremes,
returning from the assembly, comes upon Blepyrus and his neighbor and explains that he
was not paid because of the unprecedented turn-out of pale faced shoe-makers (referring
to the women in disguise.) He relayed the events of the assembly and Praxagora's speech.
Believing she was a "good-looking young man," Chremes explains how he argued women
were better at keeping secrets, returning borrowed items without cheating, that they don’t
sue or inform on people or try to overthrow the democracy, all points that Blepyrus agreed
upon. Now free of attending the assembly, the men are pleased to finally sleep in, but are
not excited about having to provide sex to receive their breakfast.
The chorus enters, still in disguise and on their way home from the assembly, trying not to
draw attention to themselves. Blepyrus accuses Praxagora of sneaking off with a lover
when he finds her returning his cloak. She explains that she was only helping a friend in
labor and had to wear his cloak for warmth. She feigns surprise when he explains to her the
decision from the morning's assembly, but immediately begins listing the reasons the
decision was wise. Praxagora then goes on to explain the details of the new government to
Blepyrus. She proposes banning all ownership of private wealth and establishing equal pay
for all and a unified standard of living. She further explains that people will no longer have a
need for personal wealth as all basic needs will be met by the common fund. She further
adds that men and women will be free to sleep with anyone they want, so long as they first
sleep with the uglier members of the opposite sex. Parental responsibilities will be shared
by the community as children will no longer know their fathers. Slaves will work the fields
and new clothes will be made when they are needed. Praxagora elaborates that there will
be no more lawsuits, since there can be no debt in a society without private wealth.
Punishments for assault will come out of the offender's bread ration and theft will be
obsolete as all men will be given their fair share. Walls within homes will be knocked down
and all will live in a common living space, courthouses and porticos will be turned into
communal dining halls. Prostitutes will be put out of business, but slaves will be banned
from sleeping with free men.
In the next scene, Blepyrus’ neighbor is laying his household objects out in front of his
house to be contributed to the common fund as the Selfish Man enters. The Selfish Man
calls the neighbor a fool for following the new laws. He plans on waiting to see if everyone
else gives up their property before he does it himself, citing failed decrees from the
assembly in the past. The town Herald enters and announces a lavish feast for all to attend.
The Selfish Man acts entitled to the feast, but the neighbor points out his reluctance to
donate possessions to the common fund disqualifies him from communal events. After the
neighbor leaves to donate his possessions, the selfish man explains that he intends to keep
his belongings and enjoy the free dinner at the same time.
In a different scene, a young girl waits for her boyfriend Epigenes to arrive as an old
woman is out looking for a date. They exchange vulgar insults and go inside their homes as
Epigenes enters the scene, lamenting the new laws governing sex. He and the girl both
speak of their desire for one another, but are interrupted by the old woman. Citing the new
law, the old woman attempts to force Epigenes to sleep with her first. As the young girl and
the old woman fight over the boy, two more old women enter and drag him away against
his will.
In the final scene, a drunken maid enters praising Thasian wine and the new laws. She is
looking to bring Blepyrus to dinner at Praxagora's request. She finds Blepyrus passing by,
already on his way to dinner with two girls in his arms. They all go to dinner together while
the chorus sings of the lavish feast they are about to have.
PLUTUS

The play features an elderly Athenian citizen, Chremylos, and his slave Cario or Carion.
Chremylos presents himself and his family as virtuous but poor, and has accordingly gone
to seek advice from an oracle. The play begins as he returns to Athens from Delphi, having
been instructed by Apollo to follow the first man he meets and persuade him to come home
with him. That man turns out to be the god Plutus — who is, contrary to all expectations, a
blind beggar. After much argument, Plutus is convinced to enter Chremylus' house, where
he will have his vision restored, meaning that "wealth" will now go only to those who
deserve it in one way or another.
The first part of the play examines the idea that wealth is not distributed to the virtuous, or
necessarily to the non-virtuous, but instead it is distributed randomly. Chremylos is
convinced that if Plutus' eyesight can be restored, these wrongs can be righted, making the
world a better place.
The second part introduces the goddess Penia (Poverty). She counters Chremylos'
arguments that it is better to be rich by arguing that without poverty there would be no
slaves (as every slave would buy his freedom) and no fine goods or luxury foods (as
nobody would work if everyone were rich).
After Plutus' eyesight is restored at the Temple of Asclepius, he formally becomes a
member of Chremylus' household. At the same time, the entire world is turned upside-down
economically and socially. Unsurprisingly, this gives rise to rancorous comments and claims
of unfairness from those who have been deprived of their riches.
In the end, the messenger god Hermes arrives to inform Chremylus and his family of the
gods' anger. As in Aristophanes' The Birds, the gods have been starved of sacrifices, since
human beings have all directed their attention to Plutus, and they no longer pay homage to
the traditional Olympian gods. Hermes, worried about his own predicament, actually offers
to work for the mortals and enters Chremylus' house as a servant on those conditions.