You
understand
what he says.
Aristophanes
and moreover believed them too light-minded to judge of a
poet's merits. Finally they fell back upon your master, because he
understands tragic poetry. [460] But let us go in; when the masters are
busy, we must look out for blows!
CHORUS. Ah! what fearful wrath will be surging in his heart! what a roar
there'll be when he sees the babbler who challenges him sharpening his
teeth! how savagely his eyes will roll! What a battle of words like
plumed helmets and waving crests hurling themselves against fragile
outbursts and wretched parings! We shall see the ingenious architect of
style defending himself against immense periods. Then, the close hairs of
his thick mane all a-bristle, the giant will knit his terrible brow; he
will pull out verses as solidly bolted together as the framework of a
ship and will hurl them forth with a roar, while the pretty speaker with
the supple and sharpened tongue, who weighs each syllable and submits
everything to the lash of his envy, will cut this grand style to
mincemeat and reduce to ruins this edifice erected by one good sturdy
puff of breath. [461]
EURIPIDES (_to Dionysus_). Your advice is in vain, I shall not vacate the
chair, for I contend I am superior to him.
DIONYSUS. Aeschylus, why do you keep silent?
You understand what he says.
EURIPIDES. He is going to stand on his dignity first; 'tis a trick he
never failed to use in his tragedies.
DIONYSUS. My dear fellow, a little less arrogance, please.
EURIPIDES. Oh! I know him for many a day. I have long had a thorough hold
of his ferocious heroes, for his high-flown language and of the monstrous
blustering words which his great, gaping mouth hurls forth thick and
close without curb or measure.
AESCHYLUS. It is indeed you, the son of a rustic goddess,[462] who dare
to treat me thus, you, who only know how to collect together stupid
sayings and to stitch the rags of your beggars? [463] I shall make you rue
your insults.
DIONYSUS. Enough said, Aeschylus, calm the wild wrath that is turning
your heart into a furnace.
AESCHYLUS. No, not until I have clearly shown the true value of this
impudent fellow with his lame men.
poet's merits. Finally they fell back upon your master, because he
understands tragic poetry. [460] But let us go in; when the masters are
busy, we must look out for blows!
CHORUS. Ah! what fearful wrath will be surging in his heart! what a roar
there'll be when he sees the babbler who challenges him sharpening his
teeth! how savagely his eyes will roll! What a battle of words like
plumed helmets and waving crests hurling themselves against fragile
outbursts and wretched parings! We shall see the ingenious architect of
style defending himself against immense periods. Then, the close hairs of
his thick mane all a-bristle, the giant will knit his terrible brow; he
will pull out verses as solidly bolted together as the framework of a
ship and will hurl them forth with a roar, while the pretty speaker with
the supple and sharpened tongue, who weighs each syllable and submits
everything to the lash of his envy, will cut this grand style to
mincemeat and reduce to ruins this edifice erected by one good sturdy
puff of breath. [461]
EURIPIDES (_to Dionysus_). Your advice is in vain, I shall not vacate the
chair, for I contend I am superior to him.
DIONYSUS. Aeschylus, why do you keep silent?
You understand what he says.
EURIPIDES. He is going to stand on his dignity first; 'tis a trick he
never failed to use in his tragedies.
DIONYSUS. My dear fellow, a little less arrogance, please.
EURIPIDES. Oh! I know him for many a day. I have long had a thorough hold
of his ferocious heroes, for his high-flown language and of the monstrous
blustering words which his great, gaping mouth hurls forth thick and
close without curb or measure.
AESCHYLUS. It is indeed you, the son of a rustic goddess,[462] who dare
to treat me thus, you, who only know how to collect together stupid
sayings and to stitch the rags of your beggars? [463] I shall make you rue
your insults.
DIONYSUS. Enough said, Aeschylus, calm the wild wrath that is turning
your heart into a furnace.
AESCHYLUS. No, not until I have clearly shown the true value of this
impudent fellow with his lame men.
