Scene XANTHIAS and EACUS.

Eac. By Jupiter! but he's a gentleman.

That master of yours.

X. A gentleman! To be sure he is ;

Why, he does nothing else but wench and drink.

Eac. His never striking you when you took his name,Outfacing him, and contradicting him-!

X. It might have been worse for him if he had.

Eac. Well, that's well spoken, like a true-bred slave. It's just the sort of language I delight in.

X. You love excuses?

Fac. Yes, but I prefer

Cursing my master quietly in private.

X. Mischief, you're fond of?

Eac. Very fond, indeed.

X. What think ye of muttering as you leave the room After a beating?

Fac. Why, that's pleasant too. X. By Jove is it! But listening at the door To hear their secrets?

Eac. Oh, there's nothing like it.
X. And then the reporting them in the neighbourhood.
Mac. That's beyond every thing,-that's quite extatic.
X. Well, give me your hand. And, there, take mine-
and buss me.

And there again—and tell me, for Jupiter's sake-
For he's the patron of our kicks and beatings-
What's all that noise, and bustle, and abuse,
Within there?-

X. Hah?

Eac. Eschylus and Euripides, only.

Fac. Why, there's a desperate business has broke out Among these here dead people ;-quite a tumult. X. As how?

ac. Why, there's a custom we have established In favour of professors of the arts.

When any one, the first man in his line,

Comes down amongst us here, he stands entitled
To privilege and precedence, with a seat

At Pluto's royal board.

X. I understand you.

Eac. So he maintains it till there comes a better,

Of the same sort, and then resigns it up.

X. But why should Eschylus be disturb'd at this? Hac. He held the seat for tragedy, as being master In that profession.

X. Well, and who's there now? Fac. He kept it till Euripides appear'd;

But he collected audiences about him,

And flourished, and exhibited, and harangued
Before the thieves, and housebreakers, and rogues,
Cut-purses, cheats, and vagabonds, and villains,
That make the mass of population here;
And they-being quite transported, and delighted
With all his subtleties, and niceties,
Equivocations, quibbles, and so forth,
Evasions, and objections, and replies-

In short-they rais'd an uproar and declar'd him
Archpoet, by a general acclamation.

And he with this grew proud and confident,

And laid a claim to the seat where Eschylus sat.
X. And did not he get pelted for his pains?

Eac. Why, no.-The mob call'd out, and it was carried,
To have a public trial of skill between them.

X. You mean the mob of scoundrels that you mentioned. Fac. Scoundrels, indeed? Aye,-scoundrels without number. X. But Eschylus must have had good friends and hearty. Eac. Yes; but good men are scarce both here and elsewhere. X. Well, what has Pluto settled to be done?

Eac. To have a trial and examination

In public.

X. But how comes it, Sophocles ?

Why does not he put in his claim amongst them?

Fac. No, no, not he-the moment he came down here

He went up and saluted Eschylus,

And kist his cheek, and took his hand quite kindly;

And Eschylus edged a little from his chair

To give him room, so now the story goes
(At least I had it from Cleidemides);
He means to attend there as a stander-by,
Professing to take up the conqueror;
If Eschylus gets the better-well and good,
He gives up his pretensions,-but, if not,
He'll stand a trial, he says, against Euripides.
X. There'll be strange doings.

Eac. That there will-and shortly
-Here-in this place-strange things I promise you;
A kind of thing that no man could have thought of.
Why, you'll see poetry weighed out and measur'd.

X. What, will they bring their tragedies to the steel-yards?
Eac. Yes will they-with their rules and compasses

They'll measure, and examine, and compare,

And bring their plummets, and their lines and levels,
And take the bearings,-for Euripides

Says that he'll make the survey word by word.
X. Eschylus takes the thing to heart I doubt.
Eac. He bent his brows, and por'd upon the ground;
I saw him.

X. Well, but who decides the business?
Eac. Why, there the difficulty lies-for judges,
True learned judges, are grown scarce, and Eschylus
Objected to the Athenians absolutely.

X. Considering them as rogues and villains mostly.
Eac. As being ignorant and empty generally,
And in their judgment of the stage particularly.
In fine, they've fixt upon that master of yours
As having had some practice in the business.
But we must wait within-for when our masters
Are warm and eager-stripes and blows ensue.

And lion crest unconscious of the comb;
Erect with rage,-his brow's impending gloom,
O'ershadowing his dark eyes' terrific blaze.
The opponent, dexterous and wary,
Will fend and parry ;

While masses of conglomerated phrase,
Enormous, ponderous, and pedantic,
With indignation frantic,

And strength and force gigantic,
Are desperately sped

At his devoted head.

Then, in different style,
The touchstone and the file,
And subtleties of art

In turn will play their part;
Analysis and rule,
And every modern tool;

With critic, scratch, and scribble,
And nice invidious nibble;

-Contending for the important choice,

A vast expenditure of human voice!

Scene EURIPIDES, BACCHUS, ÆSCHYLUS.

Eu. Don't give me your advice; I claim the seat,

As being a better and superior artist.

B. What, Æschylus, don't you speak? You hear his language. E. He's mustering up a grand commanding visage

A silent attitude-the common trick

That he begins with in his tragedies.

B. Come, have a care, my friend; you'll say too much.
E. I know the man of old-I've scrutinized

And shewn him long ago for what he is,
A rude unbridled tongue, a haughty spirit;
Proud, arrogant, and insolently pompous;
Rough, clownish, boisterous, and overbearing.

. Say'st thou me so? Thou Bastard of the earth,
With thy patch'd robes and rags of sentiment,
Rak'd from the streets, and stitch'd and tack'd together!
Thou mumping, whining, beggarly hypocrite!
But shall pay
you

for it.

B. There now, Eschylus, You grow too warm.-Restrain your ireful mood. E. Yes; but I'll seize that sturdy beggar first, And search and strip him bare of his pretensions.

B. Quick! Quick! A sacrifice to the winds-Make ready; I see the storm there gathering. Bring a victim. . A wretch that has corrupted every thing;

Our music with his melodies from Crete;

Our morals with incestuous tragedies.

B. Dear, worthy Eschylus, contain yourself;

And as for you, Euripides, move off

This instant, if you're wise; I give you warning;

Or else, with one of his big thumping phrases,

You'll get your brains dash'd out, and all your notions,
And sentiments, and matter, mash'd to pieces.

-And thee, most noble Eschylus, I beseech,
With mild demeanour, calm and affable,
To hear and answer. For it ill beseems
Illustrious bards to scold like market-women.
But you roar out and bellow like a furnace.

E. I'm up to it.-I'm resolved, and here I stand

Ready and steady-take what course you will;
Let him be first to speak, or else let me.
I'll match my plots and characters against him;
My sentiments and language, and what not;
Ay, and my music too; and Meleager,

My Eolus, and my Telephus, and all.

B. Well, Eschylus, determine. What say you? . I wish the place of trial had been elsewhere: I stand at disadvantage here.

B. As how? E. Because my poems live on earth above, And his died with him, and descended here, And are at hand as ready witnesses.

But you decide the matter, I submit.

B. Come-let them bring me fire and frankincense,

That I may offer vows and make oblations

For an ingenious critical conclusion

To this same elegant and clever trial.

[To the Chorus. And you too, sing me a hymn there-To the Muses.

CHORUS.

To the heavenly Nine we petition,

Ye, that on earth or in air | are for ever kindly protecting
The vagaries of learned ambition,

And at your ease from above, | our sense and folly directing,
(Or poetical contests inspecting,

Deign to behold for a while as a source of amusing attention,
All the struggles of style and invention)

Aid, and assist, and attend, | and afford to the furious authors
Your refin'd and enlighten'd suggestions;

Grant them ability-force, and agility, quick recollections,
And address in their answers and questions,

Pithy replies, with a word to the wise, and pulling and hawling,
With inordinate uproar and bawling ;

Driving and drawing, like carpenters sawing their dramas asunder,
With suspended sense and wonder.

All are waiting and attending

On the conflict now depending.

B. Come, say your prayers, you two, before the trial. [Eschylus offers incense. E. O Ceres, nourisher of my soul, maintain me,

A true partaker of thy mysteries.

B. [To Euripides.] There, you there, make your offering.

But I direct myself to other deities.

B. Heh, what? Your own? Some new ones?

E. Most assuredly.

E. Well, I will;

B. Well, pray away then-to your own new deities. [Euripides offers incense.

E. Thou foodful Air, the nurse of all my notions,

And ye, the organic powers of sense and speech,

And keen refin'd olfactory discernment,

Assist my present search for faults and errors.

CHORUS.

Here beside you, here are we,
Eager all to hear and see

This abstruse and curious battle,
Of profound and learned prattle.

-But, as it appears to me,
Thus the course of it will be:
That the junior and appellant
Will advance as the assailant,
Aiming shrewd satiric darts
At his rival's noble parts,
And with sallies sharp and keen,
Try to wound him in the spleen;
While the veteran rends and raises
Rifted, rough, uprooted phrases,
Wields them like a thrashing-staff,
And dispells the dust and chaff.

B. Come now, begin, and speak away; | but first I give you warning, That all your language and discourse must be genteel and clever, Without abusive similies, or common vulgar joking.

E. At the first outset, I forbear to state my own pretensions;
Hereafter I shall mention them | when his have been refuted;
And after I have prov'd and shewn, | how he abus'd and cheated

The rustic audience that he found, which Phrynichus bequeath'd him.
He planted first upon the stage a figure veil'd and muffled,

An Achilles or a Niobe, | that never shew'd their faces,

But kept a tragic attitude, without a word to utter.

B. No more they did: it's very true.

E. In the meanwhile, the Chorus Strung on ten strophes right-an-end, | but They remained in silence. B. I lik'd that silence well enough; | as well, perhaps, or better Than those new talking characters.

Believe me.

E. That's from your want of judgment,

B. Why, perhaps it is ;-but what was his intention ?
E. Why, mere conceit and insolence;-to keep the people waiting
Till Niobe should deign to speak, to drive his drama forward.

B. O what a rascal!-Now I see the tricks he us'd to play me.

[To Eschylus, who is shewing signs of indignation by various contortions.] -What makes you writhe and wince about?

E. Because he feels my censures.

Then having dragg'd and drawl'd along, | half-way to the conclusion,
He foisted in a dozen words of noisy boisterous accent,

With "nodding plumes and shaggy brows," | mere bugbears of the language,
That no man ever heard before.

E. Alas! alas!

B. [To Eschylus.] Have done there!

E. His words were never clear or plain.

B. To schylus.] Don't grind your teeth so strangely. E. But Bulwarks, and Scamanders, and Hippogrifs, and Gorgons, "Embost on brazen bucklers," | and grim remorseless phrases, Which nobody could understand.

B. Well, I confess, for my part,

I us'd to keep awake at night, | conjecturing and guessing,

To think what kind of foreign bird | he meant by Griffin-horses.

E. A figure on the heads of ships, | you goose, you must have seen them. B. I took it for Philoxenus, | for my part, from the likeness."

E. So! figures from the heads of ships | are fit for tragic diction.

Æ. Well, then-thou paltry wretch, explain-What were your own devices? E. Not stories about flying stags, I like yours, and griffin-horses;

Nor terms nor images deriv'd from tap'stry Persian hangings.

When I receiv'd the Muse from you, I found her puff'd and pamper'd,
With pompous sentences and terms, a cumbrous huge virago.
My first attention was applied to make her look genteelly,
And bring her to a moderate bulk | by dint of lighter diet.