Fourth Episode
CHOR. Dread the battle, and stout the combat, mighty and manifold looms the war.Hard to decide in the fight they're waging,One like a stormy tempest raging,One alert in the rally and skirmish, clever to parry and foin and spar.Nay but don't be content to sitAlways in one position only: many the fields for your keen-edged wit.On then, wrangle in every way,Argue, battle, be flayed and flay,Old and new from your stores display,Yea, and strive with venturesome daring something subtle and neat to say.
Fear ye this, that to-day's spectators lack the grace of artistic lore,Lack the knowledge they need for takingAll the points ye will soon be making?Fear it not: the alarm is groundless: that, be sure, is the case no more.All have fought the campaign ere this:Each a book of the words is holding; never a single point they'll miss.Bright their natures, and now, I ween,Newly whetted, and sharp, and keen.Dread not any defect of wit,Battle away without misgiving, sure that the audience, at least, are fit.
EUR. Well then I'll turn me to your prologues now,Beginning first to test the first beginningOf this fine poet's plays. Why he's obscureEven in the enunciation of the facts.
DIO. Which of them will you test?
EUR. Many: but first give as that famous one from the Oresteia.
DIO. St! Silence all! Now, Aeschylus, begin.
AESCH. Grave Hermes, witnessing a father's power.Be thou my saviour and mine aid to-day,For here I come and hither I return.
DIO. Any fault there?
EUR. A dozen faults and more.
DIO. Eh! why the lines are only three in all.
EUR. But every one contains a score of faults.
DIO. Now Aeschylus, keep silent; if you don'tYou won't get off with three iambic lines.
AESCH. Silent for him!
DIO. If my advice you'll take.
EUR. Why, at first starting here's a fault sky high.
AESCH. (To Dio.) You see your folly.
DIO. Have your way; I care not.
AESCH. (To Eur.) What is my fault?
EUR. Begin the lines again.
AESCH. Grave Hermes, witnessing a father's power--
EUR. And this beside his murdered father's graveOrestes speaks?
AESCH. I say not otherwise.
EUR. Then does he mean that when his father fellBy craft and violence at a woman's hand,The god of craft was witnessing the deed?
AESCH. It was not he: it was the Helper HermesHe called the grave: and this he showed by addingIt was his sire's prerogative he held.
EUR. Why this is worse than all. If from his fatherHe held this office grave, why then--
DIO. He was A graveyard rifler on his father's side.
AESCH. Bacchus, the wine you drink is stale and fusty.
DIO. Give him another: (to Eur.) you, look out for faults.
AESCH. Be thou my saviour and mine aid to-day,For here I come, and hither I return.
EUR. The same thing twice says clever Aeschylus.
DIO. How twice?
EUR. Why, just consider: I'll explain."I come," says he; and "I return," says he:It's the same thing, to "come" and to "return."
DIO. Aye, just as if you said, "Good fellow, lend meA kneading trough: likewise, a trough to knead in."
AESCH. It is not so, you everlasting talker,They're not the same, the words are right enough.
DIO. How so? inform me how you use the words.
AESCH. A man, not banished from his home, may "come"To any land, with no especial chance.A home-bound exile both "returns" and "comes."
DIO. O good, by Apollo! What do you say, Euripides, to that?
EUR. I say Orestes never did "return."He came in secret: nobody recalled him.
DIO. O good, by Hermes!(Aside.) I've not the least suspicion what he means.
EUR. Repeat another line.
DIO. Ay, Aeschylus, Repeat one instantly: you, mark what's wrong.
AESCH. Now on this funeral mound I call my fatherTo hear, to hearken.
EUR. There he is again.To "hear," to "hearken";the same thing, exactly.
DIO. Aye, but he's speaking to the dead, you knave,Who cannot hear us though we call them thrice.
AESCH. And how do you make your prologues?
EUR. You shall hear;And if you find one single thing said twice,Or any useless padding, spit upon me.
DIO. Well, fire away: I'm all agog to hearYour very accurate and faultless prologues.
EUR. A happy man was Oedipus at first--
AESCH. Not so, by Zeus; a most unhappy man.Who, not yet born nor yet conceived, ApolloForetold would be his father's murderer.How could he be a happy man at first.
EUR. Then he became the wretchedest of men.
AESCH. Not so, by Zeus; he never ceased to be.No sooner born, than they exposed the babe(And that in winter), in an earthen crock,lest he should grow a man, and slay his father.Then with both ankles pierced and swoln, he limpedaway to Polybus: still young, he marriedan ancient crone, and her his mother too.Then scratched out both his eyes.
DIO. Happy indeed had he been Erasinides's colleague!
EUR. Nonsense; I say my prologues are first rate.
AESCH. Nay then, by Zeus, no longer line by lineI'll maul your phrases: but with heaven to aidI'll smash your prologues with a bottle of oil.
EUR. You mine with a bottle of oil?
AESCH. With only one.You frame your prologues so that each and allFit in with a "bottle of oil," or "coverlet-skin,"Or "reticule-bag." I'll prove it here, and now.
EUR. You'll prove it? You?
AESCH. I will.
DIO. Well then, begin.
EUR. 'Aegyptus, sailing with his fifty sons,As ancient legends mostly tell the tale,Touching at Argos,
AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil.
EUR. Hang it, what's that? Confound that bottle of oil!
DIO. Give him another: let him try again.
EUR. Bacchus, who, clad in fawnskins, leaps and boundsWith torch and thyrsus in the choral dance Along Parnassus.
AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil.
DIO. Ah me, we are stricken--with that bottle again!
EUR. Pooh, pooh, that's nothing. I've a prologue here,He'll never tack his bottle of oil to this:No man is blest in every single thing.One is of noble birth, but lacking means.Another, baseborn,
AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil.
DIO. Euripides!
EUR. Well?
DIO. Lower your sails, my boy;This bottle of oil is going to blow a gale.
EUR. O, by Demeter, I don't care one bit;Now from his hands I'll strike that bottle of oil.
DIO. Go on then, go; but ware the bottle of oil.
EUR. Once Cadmus, quitting the Sidonian town,Agenor's offspring
AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil.
DIO. O pray, my man, buy off that bottle of oil,Or else he'll smash our prologues all to bits.
EUR. I buy of him?
DIO. If my advice you'll take.
EUR. No, no, I've many a prologue yet to say,To which he can't tack on his bottle of oil.Pelops, the son of Tantalus, while drivingHis mares to Pisa
AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil.
DIO. There! he tacked on the bottle of oil again.O for heaven's sake, pay him its price, dear boy;You'll get it for an obol, spick and span.
EUR. Not yet, by Zeus; I've plenty of prologues left.Oeneus once reaping
AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil.
EUR. Pray let me finish one entire line first.Oeneus once reaping an abundant harvest,Offering the firstfruits
AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil.
DIO. What in the act of offering? Fie! Who stole it?
EUR. O don't keep bothering!Let him try with this!Zeus, as by Truth's own voice the tale is told,
DIO. No, he'll cut in with "Lost his bottle of oil!"Those bottles of oil on all your prologues seemTo gather and grow, like styes upon the eye.Turn to his melodies now for goodness' sake.
EUR. O I can easily show that he's a poorMelody-maker; makes them all alike.
CHOR. What, O what will be done!Strange to think that he dareBlame the bard who has won,More than all in our days,Fame and praise for his lays,Lays so many and fair.Much I marvel to hearWhat the charge he will bring'Gainst our tragedy king;Yea for himself do I fear.
EUR. Wonderful lays!O yes, you'll see directly.I'll cut down all his metrical strains to one.
DIO. And I, I'll take some pebbles, and keep count.
EUR. (A slight pause, during which the music of a flute is heard. The music continues to the end of line 1277 as an accompaniment to the recitative.) Lord of Phthia, Achilles, why hearing the voice of the hero-dividing.Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue?We, by the lake who abide, are adoring our ancestor Hermes.Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue?
DIO. O Aeschylus, twice art thou smitten!
EUR. Hearken to me, great king; yea, hearken Atreides, thou noblest of all the Achaeans. Hah!smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue?
DIO. Thrice, Aeschylus, thrice art thou smitten!
EUR. Hush! the bee-wardens are here: they will quickly the Temple of Artemis open.Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue?I will expound (for I know it) the omen the chieftains encountered.Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue?
DIO. O Zeus and King, the terrible lot of smitings!I'll to the bath: I'm very sure my kidneysAre quite inflamed and swoln with all these smitings.
EUR. Wait till you've heard another batch of laysCulled from his lyre-accompanied melodies.
DIO. Go on then, go: but no more smitings, please.
EUR. How the twin-throned powers of Achaea, the lords of the mighty Hellenes.O phlattothrattophlattothrat!Sendeth the Sphinx, the unchancy, the chieftainess blood-hound. O phlattothrattophlattothrat!Launcheth fierce with brand and hand the avengers the terrible eagle.O phlattothrattophlattothrat!So for the swift-winged hounds of the air he provided a booty.O phlattothrattophlattothrat!The throng down-bearing on Aias.O phlattothrattophlattothrat!
DIO. Whence comes that phlattothrat? From Marathon, orWhere picked you up these cable-twister's strains?
AESCH. From noblest source for noblest ends I brought them,Unwilling in the Muses' holy fieldThe self-same flowers as Phrynichus to cull.But he from all things rotten draws his lays,From Carian flutings, catches of Meletus,Dance-music, dirges. You shall hear directly.Bring me the lyre. Yet wherefore need a lyreFor songs like these? Where's she that bangs and janglesHer castanets? Euripides's Muse,Present yourself: fit goddess for fit verse.
DIO. The Muse herself can't be a wanton? No!
AESCH. Halcyons, who by the ever-ripplingWaves of the sea are babbling,Dewing your plumes with the drops that fallFrom wings in the salt spray dabbling.Spiders, ever with twir-r-r-r-r-rling fingersWeaving the warp and the woof,Little, brittle, network, fretwork,Under the coigns of the roof.The minstrel shuttle's care.Where in the front of the dark-prowed shipsYarely the flute-loving dolphin skips.Races here and oracles there.And the joy of the young vines smiling,And the tendril of grapes, care-beguiling.O embrace me, my child, O embrace me.(To Dio.) You see this foot?
DIO. I do.
AESCH. And this?
DIO. And that one too.
AESCH. (To Eur.) You, such stuff who compile,Dare my songs to upbraid;You, whose songs in the styleOf Gyrene's embraces are made.So much for them: but still I'd like to showThe way in which your monodies are framed.O darkly-light mysterious Night,What may this Vision mean,Sent from the world unseenWith baleful omens rife;A thing of lifeless life,A child of sable night,A ghastly curdling sight,In black funereal veils,With murder, murder in its eyes,And great enormous nails?
Light ye the lanterns, my maidens, and dipping your jugs in the stream,Draw me the dew of the water, and heat it to boiling and steam,So will I wash me away the ill effects of my dream.
"God of the sea!My dream's come true.Ho, lodgers, ho,This portent view.Glyce has vanished, carrying off my cock,My cock that crew!O Mania, help! O reads of the rockPursue! pursue!For I poor girl, was working within,Holding my distaff heavy and full,Twir-r-r-r-r-rling my hand as the threads I spin,Weaving an excellent bobbin of wool:Thinking 'To-morrow I'll go to the fair,In the dusk of the morn, and be selling it there.'But he to the blue upflew, upflew,On the lightliest tips of his wings outspread;To me he bequeathed but woe, but woe,And tears, sad tears, from my eyes o'erflow,Which I, the bereaved, must shed, must shed.O children of Ida, sons of Crete,Grasping your bows to the rescue come;Twinkle about on your restless feet,Stand in a circle around her home.O Artemis, thou maid divine,Dictynna, huntress, fair to see,O bring that keen-nosed pack of thine,And hunt through all the house with me.O Hecate, with flameful brands,O Zeus's daughter, arm thine hands,Those swiftliest hands, both right and left;Thy rays on Glyce's cottage throwThat I serenely there may goAnd search by moonlight for the theft."
DIO. Enough of both your odes.
AESCH. Enough for me.Now would I bring the fellow to the scales.That, that alone, shall test our poetry now,And prove whose words are weightiest, his or mine.
DIO. Then both come hither, since I needs must weighThe art poetic like a pound of cheese.
CHOR. O the labour these wits go through!O the wild, extravagant, new,Wonderful things they are going to do!Who but they would ever have thought of it?Why, if a man had happened to meet meOut in the street, and intelligence brought of it,I should have thought he was trying to cheat me;Thought that his story was false and deceiving.That were a tale I could never believe in.
DIO. Each of you stand beside his scale.
AESCH. and EUR. We're here.
DIO. And grasp it firmly whilst ye speak your lines,And don't let go until I cry "Cuckoo."
AESCH. EUR. Ready!
DIO. Now speak your lines into the scale.
EUR. O that the Argo had not winged her way--
AESCH. River Spercheius, cattle-grazing haunts--
DIO. Cuckoo! let go. O look, by far the lowestHis scale sinks down.
EUR. Why, how came that about?
DIO. He threw a river in, like some wool-sellerWetting his wool, to make it weight the more.But you threw in a light and winged word.
EUR. Come, let him match another verse with mine.
DIO. Each to his scale.
AESCH. EUR. We're ready.
DIO. Speak your lines.
EUR. Persuasion's only shrine is eloquent speech.
AESCH. Death loves not gifts, alone amongst the gods
DIO. Let go, let go. Down goes his scale again.He threw in Death, the heaviest ill of all.
EUR. And I Persuasion, the most lovely word.
DIO. A vain and empty sound, devoid of sense.Think of some heavier-weighted line of yours,To drag your scale down: something strong and big.
EUR. Where have I got one? Where? Let's see.
DIO. I'll tell you."Achilles threw two singles and a four."Come, speak your lines: this is your last set-to.
EUR. In his right hand he grasped an iron-clamped mace.
AESCH. Chariot on chariot, corpse on corpse was hurled.
DIO. There now! again he has done you.
EUR. Done me? How?
DIO. He threw two chariots and two corpses in;Five-score Egyptians could not lift that weight.
AESCH. No more of "line for line"; let him--himself,His children, wife, Cephisophon--get in,With all his books collected in his arms,Two lines of mine shall overweigh the lot.
DIO. Both are my friends; I can't decide between them:I don't desire to be at odds with either:One is so clever, one delights me so.
PLUTO. Then you'll effect nothing for which you came?
DIO. And how, if I decide?
PLUTO. Then take the winner;So will your journey not be made in vain.
DIO. Heaven bless your Highness! Listen, I came downAfter a poet.
EUR. To what end?
DIO. That so The city, saved, may keep her choral games.Now then, whichever of you two shall bestAdvise the city, he shall come with me.And first of Alcibiades, let eachSay what he thinks; the city travails sore.
EUR. What does she think herself about him?
DIO. What? She loves, and hates, and longs to have him back.But give me your advice about the man.
EUR. I loathe a townsman who is slow to aid,And swift to hurt, his town: who ways and meansFinds for himself, but finds not for the state.
DIO. Poseidon, but that's smart!(To Aesch.) And what say you?
AESCH. 'Twere best to rear no lion in the state:But having reared, 'tis best to humour him.
DIO. By Zeus the Saviour, still I can't decide.One is so clever, and so clear the other.But once again. Let each in turn declareWhat plan of safety for the state ye've got.
EUR. [First with Cinesias wing Cleocritus,Then zephyrs waft them o'er the watery plain.
DIO. A funny sight, I own: but where's the sense?
EUR. If, when the fleets engage, they holding cruetsShould rain down vinegar in the foemen's eyes,]I know, and I can tell you.
DIO. Tell away.
EUR. When things, mistrusted now, shall trusted be,And trusted things, mistrusted.
DIO. How! I don't quite comprehend.Be clear, and not so clever.
EUR. If we mistrust those citizens of oursWhom now we trust, and those employ whom nowWe don't employ, the city will be saved.If on our present tack we fail, we surelyShall find salvation in the opposite course.
DIO. Good, O Palamedes! Good, you genius you. [Is this yourcleverness or Cephisophon's?
EUR. This is my own: the cruet-plan was his.]
DIO. (To Aesch.) Now, you.
AESCH. But tell me whom the city uses. The good and useful?
DIO. What are you dreaming of? She hates and loathes them.
AESCH. Does she love the bad?
DIO. Not love them, no: she uses them perforce.
AESCH. How can one save a city such as this,Whom neither frieze nor woollen tunic suits?
DIO. O, if to earth you rise, find out some way.
AESCH. There will I speak: I cannot answer here.
DIO. Nay, nay; send up your guerdon from below.
AESCH. When they shall count the enemy's soil their own,And theirs the enemy's: when they know that shipsAre their true wealth, their so-called wealth delusion.
DIO. Aye, but the justices suck that down, you know.
PLUTO. Now then, decide.
DIO. I will; and thus I'll do it.I'll choose the man in whom my soul delights.
EUR. O, recollect the gods by whom you sworeYou'd take me home again; and choose your friends.
DIO. 'Twas my tongue swore; my choice is--Aeschylus.
EUR. Hah! what have you done?
DIO. Done? Given the victor's prizeTo Aeschylus; why not?
EUR. And do you darelook in my face, after that shameful deed?
DIO. What's shameful, if the audience think not so?
EUR. Have you no heart? Wretch; would you leave me dead?
DIO. Who knows if death be life, and life be death,And breath be mutton broth, and sleep a sheepskin?
PLUTO. Now, Dionysus, come ye in.
DIO. What for?
PLUTO. And sup before ye go.
DIO. A bright idea. I' faith, I'm nowise indisposed for that.
Words in this poem 69
- rally v. t.
- To collect, and reduce to order, as troops dispersed or thrown into confusion; to gather again; to reunite. [OF. ralier, F. rallier, fr. L. pref. re- + ad + ligare to bind. See Ra-, and 1st Ally.]
- foin v. i.
- To thrust with a sword or spear; to lunge. [OE. foinen, foignen; of uncertain origin; cf. dial. F. fouiner to push for eels with a spear, fr. F. fouine an eelspear, perh. fr. L. fodere to dig, thrust.]
- groundless a.
- Without ground or foundation; wanting cause or reason for support; not authorized; false; as, groundless fear; a groundless report or assertion. [AS. grundleás bottomless.]
- campaign n.
- An open field; a large, open plain without considerable hills. [F. campagne, It. campagna, fr. L. Campania the level country about Naples, fr. campus field. See Camp, and cf. Champaign, Champagne.]
- ween v. i.
- To think; to imagine; to fancy. [OE. wenen, AS. w, fr. w hope, expectation, opinion; akin to D. waan, OFries. w, OS. & OHG. wan, G. wahn delusion, Icel. van hope, expectation, Goth. w, and D. w]
- misgiving n.
- Evil premonition; doubt; distrust.
- saviour n.
- One who saves, preserves, or delivers from destruction or danger. [OE. saveour, OF. salveor, F. sauveur, fr. L. salvator to save. See Save, v.]
- craft n.
- Strength; might; secret power. [AS. cr strength, skill, art, cunning; akin to OS., G., Sw., & Dan. kraft strength, D. kracht, Icel. kraptr; perh. originally, a drawing together, stretching, fr]
- graveyard n.
- A yard or inclosure for the interment of the dead; a cemetery.
- rifler n.
- One who rifles; a robber.
- fusty a.
- Moldy; musty; ill-smelling; rank. [See 2d Fust.]
- knead v. t.
- To work and press into a mass, usually with the hands; esp., to work, as by repeated pressure with the knuckles, into a well mixed mass, as the materials of bread, cake, etc.; as, to knead dough. [OE. kneden, As. cnedan; akin to D. kneden, G. kneten, Sw. kn, Icel. kno; cf. OSlav.gnesti.]
- nobody n.
- No person; no one; not anybody. [No, a. + body.]
- knave n.
- A boy; especially, a boy servant. Wyclif. [OE., boy, servant, knave, AS. cnafa boy, youth; cf. AS. cnapa boy, youth, D. kna, G. knabe boy, knappe esquire, Icel. knapi, Sw. knape esquire, knäfvel knave.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- padding n.
- The act or process of making a pad or of inserting stuffing.
- agog a.
- In eager desire; eager; astir. [Cf. F. gogue fun, perhaps of Celtic origin.]
- faultless a.
- Without fault; not defective or imperfect; free from blemish; free from incorrectness, vice, or offense; perfect; as, a faultless poem.
- babe n.
- An infant; a young child of either sex; a baby. [Cf. Ir. bab, baban, W. baban, maban.]
- crock n.
- The loose black particles collected from combustion, as on pots and kettles, or in a chimney; soot; smut; also, coloring matter which rubs off from cloth. [Cf. W. croeg cover, Scot. crochit covered.]
- swoln
- Contraction of Swollen, p. p.
- crone n.
- An old ewe. Tusser. [OD. kronie, karonie, an old sheep, OF. carogne, F. charogne, carrion (also F. carogne illnatured woman.). See Carrion, and Crony.]
- colleague n.
- A partner or associate in some civil or ecclesiastical office or employment. It is never used of partners in trade or manufactures. [F. coll*gue, L. collega one chosen at the same time with another, a partner in office; col- + legare to send or choose as deputy. See Legate.]
- smash v. t.
- To break in pieces by violence; to dash to pieces; to crush. [Cf. Sw. smisk a blow, stroke, smiska to strike, dial. Sw. smaske to kiss with a noise, and E. smack a loud kiss, a slap.]
- clad v.
- To clothe. Holland.
- choral a.
- Of or pertaining to a choir or chorus; singing, sung, or adapted to be sung, in chorus or harmony. Choral service, a service of song. [LL. choralis, fr. L. chorus. See Chorus.]
- parnassus n.
- A mountain in Greece, sacred to Apollo and the Muses, and famous for a temple of Apollo and for the Castalian spring. Grass of Parnassus. (Bot.) See under Grass, and Parnassia.
- pooh interj.
- Pshaw! pish! nonsense! -- an expression of scorn, dislike, or contempt. [Of. imitative origin; cf. Icel. pu.]
- baseborn a.
- Born out of wedlock. Gay.
- spick n.
- A spike or nail. Spick and span, quite new; that is, as new as a spike or nail just made and a chip just split; brand- new; as, a spick and span novelty. See Span-new. Howell. [Cf. Sw. spik. See Spike a nail.]
- stole n.
- A long, loose garment reaching to the feet. [AS. stole, L. stola, Gr. stall. See Stall.]
- expound v. t.
- To lay open; to expose to view; to examine. [OE. exponen, expounen, expounden, fr. L. exponere to set out, expose, expound; ex out + ponere to put: cf. OE. expondre, expondre. See Position.]
- batch n.
- The quantity of bread baked at one time. [OE. bache, bacche, fr. AS. bacan to bake; cf. G. gebäck and D. baksel. See Bake, v. t.]
- unchancy a.
- Happening at a bad time; unseasonable; inconvenient. A. Trollope. [Pref un- + Scot. chancy fortunate, safe.]
- cull v. t.
- To separate, select, or pick out; to choose and gather or collect; as, to cuil flowers. [OE., OF. cuillir, coillir, F.cueillir, to gather, pluck, pick, fr. L. colligere. See Coil, v. t., and cf. Collect.]
- wherefore adv.
- For which reason; so; -- used relatively. [Where + for.]
- fretwork n.
- Work adorned with frets; ornamental openwork or work in relief, esp. when elaborate and minute in its parts. Heuce, any minute play of light andshade, dark and light, or the like. [6th fret + work.]
- yarely adv.
- In a yare manner.
- compile v. t.
- To put together; to construct; to build. [F. compiler, fr.L. compilare to plunder, pillage; com- + pilare to plunder. See Pill, v. t., Pillage.]
- upbraid n.
- The act of reproaching; contumely.
- unseen a.
- Not seen or discovered.
- rife a.
- Prevailing; prevalent; abounding. [AS. rif abundant, or Icel. rifr munificent; akin to OD. riff, rijve, abundant.]
- sable n.
- A carnivorous animal of the Weasel family (Mustela zibellina) native of the northern latitudes of Europe, Asia, and America, -- noted for its fine, soft, and valuable fur. [OF. sable, F. zibeline sable (in sense 4), LL. sabellum; cf. D. sabel, Dan. sabel, zobel, Sw. sabel, sobel, G. zobel; all fr. Russ. sóbole.]
- portent n.
- That which portends, or foretoken; esp., that which portends evil; a sign of coming calamity; an omen; a sign. [L. portentum. See Portend.]
- distaff n.
- The staff for holding a bunch of flax, tow, or wool, from which the thread is drawn in spinning by hand. [OE. distaf, dysestafe, AS. distaef; cf. LG. diesse the bunch of flax on a distaff, and E. dizen. See Staff.]
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- outspread v. t.
- To spread out; to expand; -- usually as a past part. or adj.
- twinkle v. i.
- To open and shut the eye rapidly; to blink; to wink. [OE. twinklen, AS. twinclian; akin to OE. twinken to blink, wink, G. zwinken, zwinkern, and perhaps to E. twitch.]
- huntress n.
- A woman who hunts or follows the chase; as, the huntress Diana.
- serenely adv.
- In a serene manner; clearly.
- needs adv.
- Of necessity; necessarily; indispensably; -- often with must, and equivalent to of need. [Orig. gen. of need, used as an adverb. Cf. - wards.]
- amongst prep.
- Mixed or mingled; surrounded by. [OE. amongist, amonges, amonge, among, AS. onmang, ongemang, gemang, in a crowd or mixture. For the ending -st see Amidst. See Mingle.]
- corpse n.
- A human body in general, whether living or dead; -- sometimes contemptuosly. [OF. cors (sometimes written corps), F. corps, L. corpus; akin to AS. hrif womb. See Midriff, and cf. Corse, Corselet, Corps, Cuerpo.]
- overweigh v. t.
- To exceed in weight; to overbalance; to weigh down. Drayton.
- odds n.
- Difference in favor of one and against another; excess of one of two things or numbers over the other; inequality; advantage; superiority; hence, excess of chances; probability. [See Odd, a.]
- winner n.
- One who wins, or gains by success in competition, contest, or gaming.
- highness n.
- The state of being high; elevation; loftiness. [AS. heáhnes.]
- whichever pron.
- Whether one or another; whether one or the other; which; that one (of two or more) which; as, whichever road you take, it will lead you to town.
- townsman n.
- An inhabitant of a town; one of the same town with another.
- humour n.
- Moisture, especially, the moisture or fluid of animal bodies, as the chyle, lymph, etc.; as, the humors of the eye, etc. [OE. humour, OF. humor, umor, F. humeur, L. humor, umor, moisture, fluid, fr. humere, umere, to be moist. See Humid.]
- waft v. t.
- To give notice to by waving something; to wave the hand to; to beckon. [Prob. originally imp. & p. p. of wave, v. t. See Wave to waver.]
- funny a.
- Droll; comical; amusing; laughable. Funny bone. See crazy bone, under Crazy. [From Fun.]
- cleverness n.
- The quality of being clever; skill; dexterity; adroitness.
- perforce v. t.
- To force; to compel.
- guerdon n.
- A reward; requital; recompense; -- used in both a good and a bad sense. [OF. guerdon, guerredon, LL. widerdonum (influenced by L. donum gift, cf. Donation ), fr. OHG. widarl; widar again, against (G. wider wieder) + lon reward, G. lo]
- wealth n.
- Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
- recollect v. t.
- To recover or recall the knowledge of; to bring back to the mind or memory; to remember. [Pref. re- + collect: cf. L. recolligere, recollectum, to collect. Cf. Recollet.]
- mutton n.
- A sheep. Chapman. [OE. motoun, OF. moton, molton, a sheep, wether, F. mouton, LL. multo, by transposition of l fr. L. mutilus mutilated. See Mutilate.]
- nowise adv.
- Not in any manner or degree; in no way; noways. [For in no wise. See Wise, n.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Fourth Episode is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Frogs of Aristophanes, translated by Benjamin Bickley Rogers (Harvard Classics vol. 8, 1909; Rogers's translation first published 1902), Project Gutenberg ebook #7998, the Benjamin Bickley Rogers translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Aristophanes, Fourth Episode, in The Frogs (1902), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #7998, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/aristophanes-frogs/fourth-episode.html, id L28748.
Form and metre
Fourth Episode is 437 lines in 189 stanzas. This poem did not settle on a metre of its own; the book it comes from is in trochaic pentameter.
See other poems in trochaic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm. The first 120 of 189 stanzas.
- 1 -AA-BBCCCC war · wagingA · ragingA · spar · sitB · witB · wayC · flayC · displayC · sayC
- 2 ABBACCDDEE loreA · takingB · makingB · moreA · thisC · missC · weenD · keenD · witE · fitE
- 84 AA- firstA · harvestA · firstfruits
- 90 ABACCBDEED doneA · dareB · wonA · daysC · laysC · fairB · hearD · bringE · kingE · fearD
- 93 -A-A dividing · rescueA · hermes · rescueA
- 97 -A-A open · rescueA · encountered · rescueA
- 98 A-A smitingsA · kidneys · smitingsA
- 99 AA laysA · melodiesA
- 101 -AA-A-A-A hellenes · phlattothrattophlattothratA · phlattothrattophlattothratA · eagle · phlattothrattophlattothratA · booty · phlattothrattophlattothratA · aias · phlattothrattophlattothratA
- 105 -A-A-B-BCDDCEE-- rippling · babblingA · fall · dabblingA · fingers · woofB · fretwork · roofB · careC · shipsD · skipsD · thereC · smilingE · beguilingE · me · foot
- 109 ABAB--CDDEECCF-F compileA · upbraidB · styleA · madeB · show · framed · nightC · meanD · unseenD · rifeE · lifeE · nightC · sightC · veilsF · eyes · nailsF
- 110 AAA streamA · steamA · dreamA
- 111 -A-ABABACDCDEE-FGGFHIHIJKJKLLMNNM sea · trueA · ho · viewA · cockB · crewA · rockB · pursueA · withinC · fullD · spinC · woolD · fairE · thereE · upflew · outspreadF · woeG · o'erflowG · shedF · creteH · comeI · feetH · homeI · divineJ · seeK · thineJ · meK · brandsL · handsL · leftM · throwN · goN · theftM
- 115 AAABCBC-- throughA · newA · doA · itB · meC · itB · meC · deceiving · in
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| CHOR. Dread the battle, and stout the combat, mighty and manifold looms the war. | 19 | ···/˘···˘//˘·/˘···· |
| Hard to decide in the fight they're waging, | 10 | ··˘/····/˘ |
| One like a stormy tempest raging, | 9 | ···/˘/˘/˘ |
| One alert in the rally and skirmish, clever to parry and foin and spar. | 19 | ·˘/··/˘·/˘/˘·/˘···· |
| Nay but don't be content to sit | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Always in one position only: many the fields for your keen-edged wit. | 17 | /···˘/˘/˘/······· |
| On then, wrangle in every way, | 9 | ··/˘·/˘˘· |
| Argue, battle, be flayed and flay, | 9 | /˘/˘··˘·· |
| Old and new from your stores display, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Yea, and strive with venturesome daring something subtle and neat to say. | 16 | ····/˘/˘/˘/˘···· |
| Fear ye this, that to-day's spectators lack the grace of artistic lore, | 16 | ······/˘····˘/˘· |
| Lack the knowledge they need for taking | 9 | ··/˘···/˘ |
| All the points ye will soon be making? | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Fear it not: the alarm is groundless: that, be sure, is the case no more. | 17 | ····˘/·/˘········ |
| All have fought the campaign ere this: | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Each a book of the words is holding; never a single point they'll miss. | 16 | ·······/˘/·/˘··· |
| Bright their natures, and now, I ween, | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Newly whetted, and sharp, and keen. | 8 | /˘/˘···· |
| Dread not any defect of wit, | 8 | ··/˘/˘·· |
| Battle away without misgiving, sure that the audience, at least, are fit. | 18 | /˘˘/··˘/˘···/˘···· |
| EUR. Well then I'll turn me to your prologues now, | 11 | ········/˘· |
| Beginning first to test the first beginning | 11 | ˘/˘·····˘/˘ |
| Of this fine poet's plays. Why he's obscure | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| Even in the enunciation of the facts. | 9 | /˘······· |
| DIO. Which of them will you test? | 7 | ······· |
| EUR. Many: but first give as that famous one from the Oresteia. | 15 | ·/·····/˘······ |
| DIO. St! Silence all! Now, Aeschylus, begin. | 11 | ··/˘·····˘/ |
| AESCH. Grave Hermes, witnessing a father's power. | 10 | ··/˘/˘·/˘/ |
| Be thou my saviour and mine aid to-day, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| For here I come and hither I return. | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| DIO. Any fault there? | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| EUR. A dozen faults and more. | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| DIO. Eh! why the lines are only three in all. | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| EUR. But every one contains a score of faults. | 11 | ··/˘·˘/···· |
| DIO. Now Aeschylus, keep silent; if you don't | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| You won't get off with three iambic lines. | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| AESCH. Silent for him! | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| DIO. If my advice you'll take. | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| EUR. Why, at first starting here's a fault sky high. | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| AESCH. (To Dio.) You see your folly. | 8 | ······/˘ |
| DIO. Have your way; I care not. | 7 | ······· |
| AESCH. (To Eur.) What is my fault? | 7 | ······· |
| EUR. Begin the lines again. | 7 | ·˘/··˘/ |
| AESCH. Grave Hermes, witnessing a father's power-- | 10 | ··/˘/˘·/˘/ |
| EUR. And this beside his murdered father's grave | 11 | ···˘/·/˘/˘· |
| Orestes speaks? | 4 | ˘/˘· |
| AESCH. I say not otherwise. | 7 | ····/˘· |
| EUR. Then does he mean that when his father fell | 11 | ········/˘· |
| By craft and violence at a woman's hand, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| The god of craft was witnessing the deed? | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| AESCH. It was not he: it was the Helper Hermes | 12 | ········/˘/˘ |
| He called the grave: and this he showed by adding | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| It was his sire's prerogative he held. | 10 | ····˘/˘˘·· |
| EUR. Why this is worse than all. If from his father | 12 | ··········/˘ |
| He held this office grave, why then-- | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| DIO. He was A graveyard rifler on his father's side. | 13 | ····/·/˘··/˘· |
| AESCH. Bacchus, the wine you drink is stale and fusty. | 12 | ·/˘········· |
| DIO. Give him another: (to Eur.) you, look out for faults. | 13 | ···˘/˘······· |
| AESCH. Be thou my saviour and mine aid to-day, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| For here I come, and hither I return. | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| EUR. The same thing twice says clever Aeschylus. | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| DIO. How twice? | 3 | ··· |
| EUR. Why, just consider: I'll explain. | 9 | ···˘/˘·˘/ |
| "I come," says he; and "I return," says he: | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| It's the same thing, to "come" and to "return." | 10 | ········˘/ |
| DIO. Aye, just as if you said, "Good fellow, lend me | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| A kneading trough: likewise, a trough to knead in." | 11 | ·/˘·/······ |
| AESCH. It is not so, you everlasting talker, | 12 | ·······˘/˘/˘ |
| They're not the same, the words are right enough. | 10 | ········˘/ |
| DIO. How so? inform me how you use the words. | 11 | ···˘/······ |
| AESCH. A man, not banished from his home, may "come" | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| To any land, with no especial chance. | 10 | ·/˘···˘/˘· |
| A home-bound exile both "returns" and "comes." | 10 | ···/··˘/·· |
| DIO. O good, by Apollo! What do you say, Euripides, to that? | 16 | ····˘/˘········· |
| EUR. I say Orestes never did "return." | 10 | ···˘/˘/·˘/ |
| He came in secret: nobody recalled him. | 11 | ···/˘/··˘/· |
| DIO. O good, by Hermes! | 6 | ····/˘ |
| (Aside.) I've not the least suspicion what he means. | 12 | ˘/····˘/˘··· |
| EUR. Repeat another line. | 7 | ·˘/˘/˘· |
| DIO. Ay, Aeschylus, Repeat one instantly: you, mark what's wrong. | 14 | ·····˘/·/˘···· |
| AESCH. Now on this funeral mound I call my father | 12 | ····/˘····/˘ |
| To hear, to hearken. | 5 | ···/˘ |
| EUR. There he is again. | 6 | ····˘/ |
| To "hear," to "hearken"; | 5 | ···/˘ |
| the same thing, exactly. | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| DIO. Aye, but he's speaking to the dead, you knave, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Who cannot hear us though we call them thrice. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| AESCH. And how do you make your prologues? | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| EUR. You shall hear; | 4 | ···· |
| And if you find one single thing said twice, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Or any useless padding, spit upon me. | 11 | ·/˘/˘/˘···· |
| DIO. Well, fire away: I'm all agog to hear | 11 | ··/˘/··˘/·· |
| Your very accurate and faultless prologues. | 11 | ·/˘/˘˘·/˘/˘ |
| EUR. A happy man was Oedipus at first-- | 10 | ··/˘··/˘·· |
| AESCH. Not so, by Zeus; a most unhappy man. | 11 | ·······˘/˘· |
| Who, not yet born nor yet conceived, Apollo | 11 | ······˘/˘/˘ |
| Foretold would be his father's murderer. | 10 | ˘/···/˘/˘˘ |
| How could he be a happy man at first. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| EUR. Then he became the wretchedest of men. | 10 | ···˘/·/˘·· |
| AESCH. Not so, by Zeus; he never ceased to be. | 10 | ······/··· |
| No sooner born, than they exposed the babe | 10 | ·/˘···˘/·· |
| (And that in winter), in an earthen crock, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| lest he should grow a man, and slay his father. | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Then with both ankles pierced and swoln, he limped | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| away to Polybus: still young, he married | 11 | ˘/·······/˘ |
| an ancient crone, and her his mother too. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Then scratched out both his eyes. | 6 | ······ |
| DIO. Happy indeed had he been Erasinides's colleague! | 15 | ·/˘˘/········/˘ |
| EUR. Nonsense; I say my prologues are first rate. | 11 | ·/˘···/˘··· |
| AESCH. Nay then, by Zeus, no longer line by line | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| I'll maul your phrases: but with heaven to aid | 10 | ···/˘··/·· |
| I'll smash your prologues with a bottle of oil. | 11 | ···/˘··/˘·· |
| EUR. You mine with a bottle of oil? | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| AESCH. With only one. | 5 | ··/˘· |
| You frame your prologues so that each and all | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Fit in with a "bottle of oil," or "coverlet-skin," | 13 | ····/˘···/˘˘· |
| Or "reticule-bag." I'll prove it here, and now. | 11 | ·/˘˘······· |
| EUR. You'll prove it? You? | 5 | ····· |
| AESCH. I will. | 3 | ··· |
| DIO. Well then, begin. | 5 | ···˘/ |
| EUR. 'Aegyptus, sailing with his fifty sons, | 11 | ····/˘··/˘· |
| As ancient legends mostly tell the tale, | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| Touching at Argos, | 5 | /˘·/˘ |
| AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| EUR. Hang it, what's that? Confound that bottle of oil! | 12 | ·····˘/·/˘·· |
| DIO. Give him another: let him try again. | 11 | ···˘/˘···˘/ |
| EUR. Bacchus, who, clad in fawnskins, leaps and bounds | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| With torch and thyrsus in the choral dance Along Parnassus. | 15 | ···/˘··/˘·˘/·/˘ |
| AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| DIO. Ah me, we are stricken--with that bottle again! | 13 | ·····/˘··/˘˘/ |
| EUR. Pooh, pooh, that's nothing. I've a prologue here, | 11 | ····/˘··/˘· |
| He'll never tack his bottle of oil to this: | 10 | ·/··/˘···· |
| No man is blest in every single thing. | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| One is of noble birth, but lacking means. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Another, baseborn, | 5 | ˘/˘/˘ |
| AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| DIO. Euripides! | 4 | ···· |
| EUR. Well? | 2 | ·· |
| DIO. Lower your sails, my boy; | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| This bottle of oil is going to blow a gale. | 11 | ·/˘···/···· |
| EUR. O, by Demeter, I don't care one bit; | 11 | ···˘/˘····· |
| Now from his hands I'll strike that bottle of oil. | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| DIO. Go on then, go; but ware the bottle of oil. | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| EUR. Once Cadmus, quitting the Sidonian town, | 11 | ··/˘/˘····· |
| Agenor's offspring | 5 | ···/· |
| AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| DIO. O pray, my man, buy off that bottle of oil, | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| Or else he'll smash our prologues all to bits. | 10 | ····//˘··· |
| EUR. I buy of him? | 5 | ····· |
| DIO. If my advice you'll take. | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| EUR. No, no, I've many a prologue yet to say, | 11 | ····/·/˘··· |
| To which he can't tack on his bottle of oil. | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| Pelops, the son of Tantalus, while driving | 11 | ·····/˘˘·/˘ |
| His mares to Pisa | 5 | ···/˘ |
| AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| DIO. There! he tacked on the bottle of oil again. | 12 | ······/˘··˘/ |
| O for heaven's sake, pay him its price, dear boy; | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| You'll get it for an obol, spick and span. | 10 | ·········· |
| EUR. Not yet, by Zeus; I've plenty of prologues left. | 12 | ······/˘·/˘· |
| Oeneus once reaping | 5 | ···/˘ |
| AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| EUR. Pray let me finish one entire line first. | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
| Oeneus once reaping an abundant harvest, | 11 | ···/˘·˘/˘/˘ |
| Offering the firstfruits | 6 | /˘˘··· |
| AESCH. Lost his bottle of oil. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| DIO. What in the act of offering? Fie! Who stole it? | 12 | ······/˘···· |
| EUR. O don't keep bothering! | 7 | ····/˘˘ |
| Let him try with this! | 5 | ····· |
| Zeus, as by Truth's own voice the tale is told, | 10 | ·········· |
| DIO. No, he'll cut in with "Lost his bottle of oil!" | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| Those bottles of oil on all your prologues seem | 11 | ·/˘·····/˘· |
| To gather and grow, like styes upon the eye. | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| Turn to his melodies now for goodness' sake. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| EUR. O I can easily show that he's a poor | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Melody-maker; makes them all alike. | 10 | /˘˘/˘···˘/ |
| CHOR. What, O what will be done! | 7 | ······· |
| Strange to think that he dare | 6 | ······ |
| Blame the bard who has won, | 6 | ······ |
| More than all in our days, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Fame and praise for his lays, | 6 | ······ |
| Lays so many and fair. | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| Much I marvel to hear | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| What the charge he will bring | 6 | ······ |
| 'Gainst our tragedy king; | 7 | ·/˘/˘˘· |
| Yea for himself do I fear. | 7 | ··˘/··· |
| EUR. Wonderful lays! | 5 | ·/˘˘· |
| O yes, you'll see directly. | 7 | ····˘/˘ |
| I'll cut down all his metrical strains to one. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| DIO. And I, I'll take some pebbles, and keep count. | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| EUR. (A slight pause, during which the music of a flute is heard. The music continues to the end of line 1277 as an accompaniment to the recitative.) Lord of Phthia, Achilles, why hearing the voice of the hero-dividing. | 55 | ····/˘··/˘······/˘˘/˘·······˘/˘·········˘/˘·/˘····/˘˘/˘ |
| Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue? | 12 | ·/˘˘/˘····/˘ |
| We, by the lake who abide, are adoring our ancestor Hermes. | 17 | ·····˘/·˘/˘//·˘/˘ |
| Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue? | 12 | ·/˘˘/˘····/˘ |
| DIO. O Aeschylus, twice art thou smitten! | 10 | ········/˘ |
| EUR. Hearken to me, great king; yea, hearken Atreides, thou noblest of all the Achaeans. Hah! | 22 | ·/˘·····/˘···/˘···˘/˘· |
| smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue? | 11 | /˘˘/˘····/˘ |
| DIO. Thrice, Aeschylus, thrice art thou smitten! | 10 | ········/˘ |
| EUR. Hush! the bee-wardens are here: they will quickly the Temple of Artemis open. | 21 | ····/˘····/˘·/˘····/˘ |
| Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue? | 12 | ·/˘˘/˘····/˘ |
| I will expound (for I know it) the omen the chieftains encountered. | 16 | ··˘/·····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| Hah! smiting! approachest thou not to the rescue? | 12 | ·/˘˘/˘····/˘ |
| DIO. O Zeus and King, the terrible lot of smitings! | 12 | ······/˘···· |
| I'll to the bath: I'm very sure my kidneys | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| Are quite inflamed and swoln with all these smitings. | 11 | ··˘/······· |
| EUR. Wait till you've heard another batch of lays | 11 | ·····˘/˘··· |
| Culled from his lyre-accompanied melodies. | 11 | ····˘/˘˘/˘˘ |
| DIO. Go on then, go: but no more smitings, please. | 11 | ··········· |
| EUR. How the twin-throned powers of Achaea, the lords of the mighty Hellenes. | 17 | ·····/·······/˘/˘ |
| O phlattothrattophlattothrat! | 8 | ········ |
| Sendeth the Sphinx, the unchancy, the chieftainess blood-hound. O phlattothrattophlattothrat! | 22 | /˘···˘/˘·············· |
| Launcheth fierce with brand and hand the avengers the terrible eagle. | 16 | /˘······˘/˘·/˘/˘ |
| O phlattothrattophlattothrat! | 8 | ········ |
| So for the swift-winged hounds of the air he provided a booty. | 16 | ··········˘/˘·/˘ |
| O phlattothrattophlattothrat! | 8 | ········ |
| The throng down-bearing on Aias. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| O phlattothrattophlattothrat! | 8 | ········ |
| DIO. Whence comes that phlattothrat? From Marathon, or | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| Where picked you up these cable-twister's strains? | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| AESCH. From noblest source for noblest ends I brought them, | 12 | ··/˘··/˘···· |
| Unwilling in the Muses' holy field | 10 | ˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| The self-same flowers as Phrynichus to cull. | 10 | ···/······ |
| But he from all things rotten draws his lays, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| From Carian flutings, catches of Meletus, | 11 | ·····/˘···· |
| Dance-music, dirges. You shall hear directly. | 11 | ·/˘/˘···˘/˘ |
| Bring me the lyre. Yet wherefore need a lyre | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| For songs like these? Where's she that bangs and jangles | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Her castanets? Euripides's Muse, | 9 | ·/˘˘····· |
| Present yourself: fit goddess for fit verse. | 10 | ˘/˘/·/˘··· |
| DIO. The Muse herself can't be a wanton? No! | 11 | ···˘/···/˘· |
| AESCH. Halcyons, who by the ever-rippling | 11 | ·/˘˘···//˘˘ |
| Waves of the sea are babbling, | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Dewing your plumes with the drops that fall | 9 | /˘······· |
| From wings in the salt spray dabbling. | 9 | ······/˘˘ |
| Spiders, ever with twir-r-r-r-r-rling fingers | 11 | //·······/˘ |
| Weaving the warp and the woof, | 7 | /˘····· |
| Little, brittle, network, fretwork, | 8 | /˘/˘/·/˘ |
| Under the coigns of the roof. | 7 | ······· |
| The minstrel shuttle's care. | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Where in the front of the dark-prowed ships | 10 | ········˘· |
| Yarely the flute-loving dolphin skips. | 9 | /˘··/˘/˘· |
| Races here and oracles there. | 8 | /˘··/˘˘· |
| And the joy of the young vines smiling, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| And the tendril of grapes, care-beguiling. | 10 | ··/˘···˘/˘ |
| O embrace me, my child, O embrace me. | 10 | ·˘/····˘/· |
| (To Dio.) You see this foot? | 6 | ······ |
| DIO. I do. | 3 | ··· |
| AESCH. And this? | 3 | ··· |
| DIO. And that one too. | 5 | ····· |
| AESCH. (To Eur.) You, such stuff who compile, | 9 | ·······˘/ |
| Dare my songs to upbraid; | 6 | ····/· |
| You, whose songs in the style | 6 | ······ |
| Of Gyrene's embraces are made. | 8 | ···˘/˘·· |
| So much for them: but still I'd like to show | 10 | ·········· |
| The way in which your monodies are framed. | 10 | ·········˘ |
| O darkly-light mysterious Night, | 9 | ·/˘·˘/˘˘· |
| What may this Vision mean, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Sent from the world unseen | 6 | ····˘/ |
| With baleful omens rife; | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| A thing of lifeless life, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| A child of sable night, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| A ghastly curdling sight, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| In black funereal veils, | 7 | ··˘/˘˘· |
| With murder, murder in its eyes, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| And great enormous nails? | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| Light ye the lanterns, my maidens, and dipping your jugs in the stream, | 16 | ···/˘·/˘·/˘····· |
| Draw me the dew of the water, and heat it to boiling and steam, | 16 | ······/˘····/˘·· |
| So will I wash me away the ill effects of my dream. | 14 | ·····˘/··˘/··· |
| "God of the sea! | 4 | ···· |
| My dream's come true. | 4 | ···· |
| Ho, lodgers, ho, | 4 | ···· |
| This portent view. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Glyce has vanished, carrying off my cock, | 10 | ··/˘/˘˘··· |
| My cock that crew! | 4 | ···· |
| O Mania, help! O reads of the rock | 10 | ·/˘˘······ |
| Pursue! pursue! | 4 | ˘/˘/ |
| For I poor girl, was working within, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Holding my distaff heavy and full, | 9 | /˘·/˘/˘·· |
| Twir-r-r-r-r-rling my hand as the threads I spin, | 13 | ············· |
| Weaving an excellent bobbin of wool: | 10 | /˘·/˘˘/˘·· |
| Thinking 'To-morrow I'll go to the fair, | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| In the dusk of the morn, and be selling it there.' | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| But he to the blue upflew, upflew, | 9 | ········· |
| On the lightliest tips of his wings outspread; | 10 | ········˘/ |
| To me he bequeathed but woe, but woe, | 10 | ···˘/˘···· |
| And tears, sad tears, from my eyes o'erflow, | 9 | ········· |
| Which I, the bereaved, must shed, must shed. | 10 | ···˘/˘···· |
| O children of Ida, sons of Crete, | 9 | ·/˘·/˘··· |
| Grasping your bows to the rescue come; | 9 | /˘····/˘· |
| Twinkle about on your restless feet, | 9 | /˘····/˘· |
| Stand in a circle around her home. | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| O Artemis, thou maid divine, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Dictynna, huntress, fair to see, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| O bring that keen-nosed pack of thine, | 9 | ·····˘··· |
| And hunt through all the house with me. | 8 | ········ |
| O Hecate, with flameful brands, | 8 | ········ |
| O Zeus's daughter, arm thine hands, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Those swiftliest hands, both right and left; | 8 | ········ |
| Thy rays on Glyce's cottage throw | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That I serenely there may go | 9 | ··˘/˘˘··· |
| And search by moonlight for the theft." | 8 | ···/···· |
| DIO. Enough of both your odes. | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| AESCH. Enough for me. | 5 | ·˘/·· |
| Now would I bring the fellow to the scales. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| That, that alone, shall test our poetry now, | 10 | ··˘/··//˘· |
| And prove whose words are weightiest, his or mine. | 10 | ·········· |
| DIO. Then both come hither, since I needs must weigh | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| The art poetic like a pound of cheese. | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| CHOR. O the labour these wits go through! | 9 | ···/····· |
| O the wild, extravagant, new, | 8 | ···˘/˘˘· |
| Wonderful things they are going to do! | 10 | /˘˘···/˘·· |
| Who but they would ever have thought of it? | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Why, if a man had happened to meet me | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Out in the street, and intelligence brought of it, | 11 | ·····˘/˘··· |
| I should have thought he was trying to cheat me; | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| Thought that his story was false and deceiving. | 11 | ···/˘···˘/˘ |
| That were a tale I could never believe in. | 10 | ······/˘/· |
| DIO. Each of you stand beside his scale. | 9 | ·····˘/·· |
| AESCH. and EUR. We're here. | 5 | ····· |
| DIO. And grasp it firmly whilst ye speak your lines, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| And don't let go until I cry "Cuckoo." | 10 | ········/· |
| AESCH. EUR. Ready! | 4 | ··/˘ |
| DIO. Now speak your lines into the scale. | 9 | ········· |
| EUR. O that the Argo had not winged her way-- | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| AESCH. River Spercheius, cattle-grazing haunts-- | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| DIO. Cuckoo! let go. O look, by far the lowest | 12 | ·/········/˘ |
| His scale sinks down. | 4 | ···· |
| EUR. Why, how came that about? | 7 | ······· |
| DIO. He threw a river in, like some wool-seller | 12 | ····/˘····/˘ |
| Wetting his wool, to make it weight the more. | 10 | /˘········ |
| But you threw in a light and winged word. | 10 | ········˘· |
| EUR. Come, let him match another verse with mine. | 11 | ·····˘/˘··· |
| DIO. Each to his scale. | 5 | ····· |
| AESCH. EUR. We're ready. | 5 | ···/˘ |
| DIO. Speak your lines. | 4 | ···· |
| EUR. Persuasion's only shrine is eloquent speech. | 11 | ·˘/˘/˘··/˘· |
| AESCH. Death loves not gifts, alone amongst the gods | 11 | ·····˘/···· |
| DIO. Let go, let go. Down goes his scale again. | 11 | ·········˘/ |
| He threw in Death, the heaviest ill of all. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| EUR. And I Persuasion, the most lovely word. | 11 | ···˘/˘··/˘· |
| DIO. A vain and empty sound, devoid of sense. | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
| Think of some heavier-weighted line of yours, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| To drag your scale down: something strong and big. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| EUR. Where have I got one? Where? Let's see. | 9 | ········· |
| DIO. I'll tell you. | 4 | ···· |
| "Achilles threw two singles and a four." | 10 | ˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Come, speak your lines: this is your last set-to. | 10 | ·········· |
| EUR. In his right hand he grasped an iron-clamped mace. | 11 | ········/·· |
| AESCH. Chariot on chariot, corpse on corpse was hurled. | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| DIO. There now! again he has done you. | 9 | ···˘/···· |
| EUR. Done me? How? | 4 | ···· |
| DIO. He threw two chariots and two corpses in; | 11 | ····/˘··/˘· |
| Five-score Egyptians could not lift that weight. | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| AESCH. No more of "line for line"; let him--himself, | 11 | ·········˘/ |
| His children, wife, Cephisophon--get in, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| With all his books collected in his arms, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Two lines of mine shall overweigh the lot. | 10 | ·········· |
| DIO. Both are my friends; I can't decide between them: | 12 | ·······˘/··· |
| I don't desire to be at odds with either: | 11 | ··˘/·····/˘ |
| One is so clever, one delights me so. | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| PLUTO. Then you'll effect nothing for which you came? | 12 | /˘··/˘/˘···· |
| DIO. And how, if I decide? | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| PLUTO. Then take the winner; | 7 | /˘···/˘ |
| So will your journey not be made in vain. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| DIO. Heaven bless your Highness! Listen, I came down | 11 | ·/··/˘/˘··· |
| After a poet. | 5 | ···/˘ |
| EUR. To what end? | 4 | ···· |
| DIO. That so The city, saved, may keep her choral games. | 13 | ····/˘····/˘· |
| Now then, whichever of you two shall best | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| Advise the city, he shall come with me. | 10 | ˘/·/˘····· |
| And first of Alcibiades, let each | 8 | ········ |
| Say what he thinks; the city travails sore. | 10 | ·····/˘˘/· |
| EUR. What does she think herself about him? | 10 | ·····˘/··· |
| DIO. What? She loves, and hates, and longs to have him back. | 12 | ············ |
| But give me your advice about the man. | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| EUR. I loathe a townsman who is slow to aid, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| And swift to hurt, his town: who ways and means | 10 | ·········· |
| Finds for himself, but finds not for the state. | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| DIO. Poseidon, but that's smart! | 7 | ·˘/˘··· |
| (To Aesch.) And what say you? | 6 | ······ |
| AESCH. 'Twere best to rear no lion in the state: | 10 | ······/··· |
| But having reared, 'tis best to humour him. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| DIO. By Zeus the Saviour, still I can't decide. | 11 | ····/˘···˘/ |
| One is so clever, and so clear the other. | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| But once again. Let each in turn declare | 10 | ··˘/····˘/ |
| What plan of safety for the state ye've got. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| EUR. [First with Cinesias wing Cleocritus, | 10 | ·········· |
| Then zephyrs waft them o'er the watery plain. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| DIO. A funny sight, I own: but where's the sense? | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| EUR. If, when the fleets engage, they holding cruets | 11 | ·····˘/·/˘· |
| Should rain down vinegar in the foemen's eyes,] | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| I know, and I can tell you. | 7 | ······· |
| DIO. Tell away. | 4 | ··˘/ |
| EUR. When things, mistrusted now, shall trusted be, | 11 | ···˘/˘··/˘· |
| And trusted things, mistrusted. | 7 | ·/˘·˘/˘ |
| DIO. How! I don't quite comprehend. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Be clear, and not so clever. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| EUR. If we mistrust those citizens of ours | 10 | ···˘/·/˘·/ |
| Whom now we trust, and those employ whom now | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| We don't employ, the city will be saved. | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| If on our present tack we fail, we surely | 11 | ··//˘····/˘ |
The first 400 of 437 lines; the reader marks them all.
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.