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?
to treat me thus, you, who only know how to collect together stupid
sayings and to stitch the rags of your beggars?
Aristophanes
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. [464]
DIONYSUS. A lamb, a black lamb! Slaves, bring it quickly, the storm-cloud
is about to burst. [465]
AESCHYLUS. Shame on your Cretan monologues! [466] Shame on the infamous
nuptials[467] that you introduce into the tragic art!
DIONYSUS. Curb yourself, noble Aeschylus, and as for you, my poor
Euripides, be prudent, protect yourself from this hailstorm, or he may
easily in his rage hit you full in the temple with some terrible word,
that would let out your Telephus. [468] Come, Aeschylus, no flying into a
temper! discuss the question coolly; poets must not revile each other
like market wenches.
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. [464]
DIONYSUS. A lamb, a black lamb! Slaves, bring it quickly, the storm-cloud
is about to burst. [465]
AESCHYLUS. Shame on your Cretan monologues! [466] Shame on the infamous
nuptials[467] that you introduce into the tragic art!
DIONYSUS. Curb yourself, noble Aeschylus, and as for you, my poor
Euripides, be prudent, protect yourself from this hailstorm, or he may
easily in his rage hit you full in the temple with some terrible word,
that would let out your Telephus. [468] Come, Aeschylus, no flying into a
temper! discuss the question coolly; poets must not revile each other
like market wenches.
