Look-there's a sight you shouldn't miss for worlds.
That's Mrs. Smycthion with her husband's boots on.
Do you see the way she waddles?

Mrs. Pankagoras.

Her I behold.

I behold others also. Oh, my sisters,
You come, you come. You are as true to time
As to eternity. Let me count my flock.

Yes, all are here. I know you and I know
That round me clusters every perfect flower
Of Womanhood in Athens. Ladies, attention.
Have you done all you took your oaths to do
At our last solemn meeting? The great question
Is, have you got your beards?

Philena.

Yes, yes, of course they have. They're nodding that they've got them.

Mrs. Pankagoras.

Appears to be in order. Those great coats

All so far

Muffle you up, and quite make men of you.

Those clumping boots are good, too; and I'm glad

To see you've not forgot the walking-sticks.

Philena. Just feel the knob of mine-hard as a hammer.

Not much, I think, you couldn't smash with that.

Mrs. Pankagoras. Well, ladies, for our business must be done

Before the stars grow paler, let's proceed.

You know our programme, all of you?

Philena.

Of course.

If we know nothing else, we all know that.

Straight from this place we march to the Assembly;
We throng the unopened gates, and when they are open
In we rush, all of us, or ever a man

Can squeeze his body through them; and we seize
The foremost seats, and stick to them.

We've got the whole thing pat.

Sostrata.

You see

Yes, so we have.

And while we wait-Mrs. Pankagoras, look

I've brought my work-I'll just sit still and knit

Some little things for baby.

Mrs. Pankagoras.

Merciful Heavens !

Sostrata. Good gracious! Why do you stare so? When

I knit

I listen all the better. And besides,

Poor baby does indeed want something warm

For his little mottled legs.

Merciful Heavens !

Mrs. Pankagoras.

Fancy your knitting, with your coat all open,
Your bodice showing, and those hands of yours
Flashing their sex at everyone when all,
Yea, all our hopes for all the years to come
Hang on your not allowing the tiniest atom
Which even suggests a woman to be peeped at
By any mortal eye. No, we must sit

Hunched up and crouching in our husbands' coats,
With only our noses showing and our long beards;
And none will then suspect us. We for men
Shall pass till the hour comes when we are known
For more than men-when, oh, thou beaconing dawn,
We shall be captains of this helpless craft

Which man can neither sail, nor steer, nor row.
What are you muttering, you there? Out with it.

Philena. 'Twas only this. When we confront the
Assembly,

And have to talk, this question just occurred to me :-
Mayn't we, in view of the exquisite delicacy
Which marks our feminine nature, find it difficult
To lay our whole hearts bare in public speeches

To a lot of great coarse men? How shall we do it?
Mrs. Pankagoras. How shall we do it? Easily. Who
are the men

To whom the public pouring forth of words

Comes easiest? Why, the men who are most like women. To us, then, trust me, 'twill come easier still,

Who are the genuine article.

We haven't had their training, and I'm sure

Some training's needed.

Mrs. Pankagoras.

Needed? Of course it is.

And is not that the very identical reason

Why we are here-to have a moment's practice?
Let those who wish to speak stick on their beards.
Sostrata. Mine's on already. See, Philena, see.
What fun this is. Oh I shall die of laughing.

Mrs. Pankagoras. Fun! Did I hear you utter the word
'fun'?

In Woman's cause what do you find that's funny?
None of this fooling, ladies, range yourselves--

I should say gentlemen '-round me in a circle.
Don't chatter so. Attend now. I declare
The Assembly open. Which of you will first
Address the Assembly?

No, not you, Philena.

Sit down. Does any other gentleman

Wish to say something? Mrs. Smycthion, you do?

Stand forward, then. That's right. Lean on your stick, And mouth your words out boldly.

Mrs. Smycthion.

Gentlemen,

I could have wished that someone more accustomed

Than I to public speaking now addressed you.

But since the previous speaker raised the question
Of drink or no drink, I at least, for one,
Protest against the sham that calls itself

The Temperance Cause. It's not a manly movement.
It is not Greek. I grant you that a man
Reeling with wine is a disgusting object.
True; but a man is more disgusting still
Swelled out with water. I accordingly
Hereby propose a law to stop the sale
Of water in public-houses. By my sex-
Ay, by my sacred sex I'd put a stop to it.

Mrs. Pankagoras. What woman's oath is this? Swear by your sex?

They'd find you out at once.

Now all you ladies,

Be good enough to listen. If anyone

Makes such a slip again-for one might ruin us-
I wash my hands of you. I'll leave the Cause

To perish, and I'll go back straight to bed.

All the Women Together. Oh, glorious leader, don't go

back to bed,

And blot out all the hopes of Womanhood

For all eternity.

Mrs. Pankagoras.

Well, for Woman's sake

I won't. But meanwhile, all ye sacred vessels

For such ye are—of that eternal spirit

By which alone all states shall be reformed,

Just hold your tongues until ye have learned to rule them, Which few have learned as yet and I will show you

The kind of speech to make-the kind of speech

I shall make. Now be silent and suppose

That I am speaking as a man to men.

Friends, countrymen, Athenians, lend your ears

To one who claims one pure equality

Even with your wisest. This dear land of ours,
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts,

Is dear to me as you. My milk of life

Comes from her breasts as yours does; and my heart
Aches, even as yours must, when we all behold

What Athens is, and dream of what she was.

Where is her strength? How can a State be strong
If always swayed by one adventurer

After another, none of them alike

Except in one thing, that the end of each

Is his own sole advantage? True they pay you
With voters' salaries from the public purse

To vote them into office. Then, what follows?
Next day these salaries all are conjured back
As salaries for themselves.

Several Women.

Mrs. Pankagoras. But

bribes for votes

Hear, hear. That's true.

that's not all. The promised

They do pay these in cash. The cash is there.

But their great bribes are promises to all

Of cash unlimited that's paid to nobody,

Because it's nowhere. First comes Gorgias wheedling. 'Sweet voters, sweet majority, sweet poor,

I will enrich you. I will give you each

Ninepence for fourpence.' He meanwhile himself
Rolls in the very riches he denounces

As a dog rolls in carrion. Then comes one
Of temperate, lofty mien, his very glance
Unmasking all impostors. 'Oh, shrewd voters,
Trust not,' he says, 'in him, but trust in me,
Who bring your sober deeds, not empty words.
Ninepence for fourpence-why, the thing's impossible.
I guarantee perhaps you'll say, Not much;
But still 'tis certain. What I'll give you all
Is half-a-crown for sixpence.' So the game
Day after day goes on; and day by day
The sharper of the day pockets the stakes,
And all the rest go starving.

Mrs. Blepyrus.

Hear, hear, hear. Give it 'em all. Walk into them.

Mrs. Pankagoras.
That's right.
That's just the way to applaud. Now I'll go on.

Then there's our foreign policy. These sharpers
Play ducks and drakes with this, just as they do
With our domestic. One would think, to hear them,
Our only wars were wars between themselves.
Take now the Triple Alliance. One of them
To-day will tell you that by this alone
We can escape destruction. The day after
Another sage, equally loud of lungs,
Will tell you it's destroying us.

'Our true hope

Lies,' he says, 'in our navy. More, more ships

We must build, and build them quickly.' Then another Comes shouting, 'Who's to pay for them? A navy! What do we want a navy for, when none

Will ever dare attack us?'

Mrs. Blepyrus.

Don't stop. Go on. Go on.

Whom you'd suggest as ruler.

Mrs. Pankagoras.

Right you are.

Tell us the man

Citizens,

You have heard what's just been said. There's no man living

I would suggest as ruler.

And all found wanting.

Men have been tried,

What I beg to move

Is that from this hour forth the reins of state

Be taken from men's hands, which scarce can hold them, And placed in Woman's.

Several Women.

Hear, hear, hear. Go on.

Mrs. Pankagoras. Does my proposal startle you?

Consider.

What is this malady of which we die?

A constant love of change. If some sound course

Is settled on to-day, we fickle men

Are tired of it to-morrow-tired, and why?

Because it is not new enough; and we clamour
For something bad that's newer.

Can thrive that's ruled like this?

Where's the State

There's always more

In any State, as in your own live limbs,

To be conserved than changed. You break your leg.
Well, if you wish to mend it, true it is

You must change something: but the things you change
Are nought compared to those you keep from changing
If that same leg is ever to go again,

And carry you as of old. Wherefore, I say,
Since men have proved so vain and variable,
Seeking for changes where no change can be,
Let Woman take Man's place; because in her,
Steadfast and steady, wedded by experience
To the daily acts and facts that always must be,
Never, like men, hysterical, the Gods

Have given to Man the true Conservative-
Conservative of all that makes life possible,
And saves the world from chaos.

Several Women.

Hear, hear, hear.

Tell us some more about the true Conservative.

Mrs. Pankagoras. Still as of old to blow the fire she

squats.

Still as of old she stands to stir the pots.