than a twelvemonth older than I went.
XAN. O thrice unlucky neck of mine, which now Is getting crushed,
yet must not crack its joke!
DIO. Now is not this fine pampered insolence When I myself,
Dionysus, son of--Pipkin, Toil on afoot, and let this fellow ride, Taking
no trouble, and no burden bearing?
XAN. What, don't I bear?
DIO. How can you when you're riding?
XAN. Why, I bear these.
DIO. How?
XAN. Most unwillingly.
DIO. Does not the donkey bear the load you're bearing?
XAN. Not what I bear myself: by Zeus, not he.
DIO. How can you bear, when you are borne yourself?
XAN. Don't know: but anyhow my shoulder's aching.
DIO. Then since you say the donkey helps you not, You lift him up and
carry him in turn.
XAN. O hang it all! why didn't I fight at sea? You should have smarted
bitterly for this.
DIO. Get down, you rascal; I've been trudging on Till now I've reached
the portal, where I'm going First to turn in. Boy! Boy! I say there, Boy!
HERACLES. Who banged the door? How like a prancing Centaur He
drove against it! Mercy o' me, what's this?
DIO. Boy.
XAN. Yes.
DIO. Did you observe?
XAN. What?
DIO. How alarmed He is.
XAN. Aye truly, lest you've lost your wits.
HER. O by Demeter, I can't choose but laugh. Biting my lips won't stop
me. Ha! ha! ha!
DIO. Pray you, come hither, I have need of you.
HER. I vow I can't help laughing, I can't help it. A lion's hide upon a
yellow silk, a club and buskin! What's it all about? Where were you
going?
DIO. I was serving lately aboard the--Cleisthenes.
HER. And fought?
DIO. And sank more than a dozen of the enemy's ships.
HER. You two?
DIO. We two.
HER. And then I awoke, and lo!
DIO. There as, on deck, I'm reading to myself The Andromeda, a
sudden pang of longing Shoots through my heart, you can't conceive
how keenly.
HER. How big a pang.
DIO. A small one, Molon's size.
HER. Caused by a woman?
DIO. No.
HER. A boy?
DIO. No, no.
HER. A man?
DIO. Ah! ah!
HER. Was it for Cleisthenes?
DIO. Don't mock me, brother; on my life I am In a bad way: such fierce
desire consumes me.
HER. Aye, little brother? how?
DIO. I can't describe it. But yet I'll tell you in a riddling way. Have you
e'er felt a sudden lust for soup?
HER. Soup! Zeus-a-mercy, yes, ten thousand times.
DIO. Is the thing clear, or must I speak again?
HER. Not of the soup: I'm clear about the soup.
DIO. Well, just that sort of pang devours my heart For lost Euripides.
HER. A dead man too.
DIO. And no one shall persuade me not to go after the man.
HER. Do you mean below, to Hades?
DIO. And lower still, if there's a lower still.
HER. What on earth for?
DIO. I want a genuine poet, "For some are not, and those that are, are
bad."
HER. What! does not Iophon live?
DIO. Well, he's the sole Good thing remaining, if even he is good. For
even of that I'm not exactly certain.
HER. If go you must, there's Sophocles--he comes Before
Euripides--why not take him?
DIO. Not till I've tried if Iophon's coin rings true When he's alone, apart
from Sophocles. Besides, Euripides the crafty rogue, Will find a
thousand shifts to get away, But he was easy here, is easy there.
HER. But Agathon, where is he?
DIO. He has gone and left us, A genial poet, by his friends much
missed.
HER. Gone where?
DIO. To join the blessed in their banquets.
HER. But what of Xenocles?
DIO. O he be hanged!
HER. Pythangelus?
XAN. But never a word of me, Not though my shoulder's chafed so
terribly.
HER. But have you not a shoal of little songsters, Tragedians by the
myriad, who can chatter A furlong faster than Euripides?
DIO. Those be mere vintage-leavings, jabberers, choirs Of
swallow-broods, degraders of their art, Who get one chorus, and are
seen no more, The Muses' love once gained. But O my friend, Search
where you will, you'll never find a true Creative genius, uttering
startling things.
HER. Creative? how do you mean?
DIO. I mean a man Who'll dare some novel venturesome conceit, Air,
Zeus's chamber, or Time's foot, or this, 'Twas not my mind that swore:
my tongue committed A little perjury on its own account.
HER. You like that style?
DIO. Like it? I dote upon it.
HER. I vow it's ribald nonsense, and you know it.
DIO. "Rule not my mind": you've got a house to mind.
HER. Really and truly though 'tis paltry stuff.
DIO. Teach me to dine!
XAN.
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