Below is a short excerpt from Lysistrata, a play by Aristophanes, the comic playwright of ancient Athens, 446 BCE – 386 BCE.
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?
Cling to the doorposts.
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.