Dem. Harkye, thou trifling, bubbling water-drinker,

Nic.

Who darest speak treason thus against good liquor!
Resolve me-speak--What stirs the wit most nimbly?
What makes the purse feel heaviest, or gives

Most life to bus'ness?-wine! What masters all
Disputes?-a merry cup! What gives the spirits
Their briskest flow?-good liquor! What most sets
The soul afloat in love and friendly benefits?

A mantling bowl!-hand me a pitcher then :-
Quick, quick, nay quick! I'll bathe my very mind
And soul therein, and then see who can hit
Upon a trim device.

A-lack a-day!

What will that drunkenness of thine engender! (goes in doors.)
Dem. Much good, believe me quick, and bring the wine then.
I'll lay me down,-let but the generous fumes
Once mount into my head, and they will gender

Such dainty little schemes-such tit-bit thoughts-
Such trim devices! '—

The next, from the last scene of the play, gives a spirited sketch of the young political coxcombs of Athens.-Demus is recounting to Agoracritus the Sausage-seller, who has succeeded to his favour in the place of the degraded Cleon, his projected reformations in the state:

Dem. I'll have no speeches in the Agora

Agor.

From those whose chins have not yet budded.
Clisthenes

And Straton then must use despatch, and straight
Look out another school of oratory.

Dem. My meaning rather points to those same sparks,

For ever haunting the perfumer's shops,

Who sit and chatter to this tune- Commend me (mimicking)
To Phæax-swinge me!-'tis a man of parts-
Vers'd in all school-points most divinely-none
Takes firmer hold upon his hearer-split me !—
And then such art in hammering his sentiments,
So clear, so powerful to sway the passions!-
He'll take them in their highest storm and buffetings,
And-stap my vitals-lay them in a moment.

Agor. (mimicking) A rape! a rape! thou'rt gone, thou'rt lost-this phrase maker

Hath ta'en thy very senses-split my wind-pipe!'

We must return to the first Act to give the scene between the Knights or Chorus, the Sausage-seller, who is to contend against Cleon for the mastery in impudence, and Cleon himself.

Mr Mitchell has translated it with amazing fire and vi

gour. Nothing can be better than the burst of double trochaics, in which the Knights commence their attack : *

CHORUS.

Stripes and torment, whips and scourges, for the toll-collecting knave!

Knighthood wounded, troops confounded, chastisement and vengeance crave.

Taxes sinking, tributes shrinking, mark his appetite for plunder;
At his craw and rav'ning maw dykes and whirlpools fail for wonder!
Explanation and evasion-covert art and close deceit-

Fraudful funning, force and cunning, who with him in these compete?

He can cheat and eke repeat twenty times his felon feat,

All before yon blessed sun has quench'd his lamp of glowing heat. Then to him-pursue him—strike, shiver, and hew him; Confound him and pound him, and storm all around him '-&c.

Cleon trembles at so furious an assault, and calls for aid upon his favourites and abettors, the dicasts of the courts, under a curious combination of characters. It is a combination which we had not expected to see imitated by any assembly of the present day: but as Claudio says, Oh! what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do! not knowing what they do!' + Cl. Judges, jurymen, and pleaders, you whose soul is in You that in a three-piec'd obol, father, mother, brother see; You, whose food I'm still providing, straining voice through right and

wrong

Mark and see-Conspiracy drives and buffets me along!

your

fee;

Chor. 'Tis with reason- 'tis in season- 'tis as you yourself have done: Thou fang, thou claw-thou gulph, thou maw! yielding partage fair

to none.

Where's the officer at audit but has felt your cursed gripe?

Squeez'd and tried with nice discernment, whether yet the wretch be ripe.
Like the men our figs who gather, you are skilful to discern,
Which is green and which is ripe, and which is just upon the turn.
Is there one well-purs'd among us, lamb-like in heart and life,
Link'd and wedded to retirement, hating bus'ness, hating strife?
Soon your greedy eye 's upon him-when his mind is least at home,-
Room and place-from farthest Thrace, at your bidding he must come.
Foot and hand are straight upon him-neck and shoulder in your grip,
To the ground anon he's thrown, and you smite him on the hip.

Cl. (fawning.) Ill from you comes this irruption, you for whom my cares provide,

To reward old deeds of valour, stone and monumental pride.

* The want of some English metre similar to the trochaic and anapastic metres in Greek, formed one great deficiency in all former translations of this poet. Mr M. has entirely supplied this defect. + Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. sc. 1.

Nov.

'Twas my purpose to deliver words and speech to that intentAnd for such my good intentions must I thus be tempest-rent? Chor. Fawning braggart, proud deceiver, yielding like a pliant thong! We are not old men to cozen and to gull with lying tongue. Fraud or force-assault or parry-at all points will we pursue thee: And the course which first exalted, knave, that same shall now undo thee.

Cl. (to the audience.) Town and weal-I make appeal-back and breast these monsters feel.

Chor. Have we wrung a clamour from thee, pest and ruin of our town?
Saus. Clamour as he will, I'll raise a voice that shall his clamour drown.
Chor. To outreach this knave in speech were a great and glorious
feat-

But to pass in face and brass-that were triumph all complete.
Then might fly to earth and sky notes of vict'ry pæan'd high!

Cl. (to the audience.) Allegation-affirmation—I am here prepar'd

to make

That this man, (pointing to the Sausage-vender) shipp'd spars and timber and sausages for Sparta's sake.

Saus. Head and oath, I stake them both, and free before this pre

sence say,

That the Hall a guest most hungry sees in this man (pointing to Cleon)

ev'ry day;

He walks in with belly empty and with full one goes away,' &c.
The next interruption of the Chorus is very powerful:

Chor.

6

Wretch without a parallel

Son of thunder-child of hell,-
Creature of one mighty sense,
Concentrated impudence!—
From earth's centre to the sea,

Nature stinks of that and thee,' &c.

But thou, (turning to the Sausage-vender) whose breeding and whose feeding were in those schools and masters,

From whence proceed all those who breed our present state-disasters,

Unfold thy speech-direct and teach in eloquent oration

That they are naught who'd have us taught a virtuous education.

Saus. Then at a word must first be heard my rival's estimation. Cl. (eagerly.) I claim precedence in my speech-nor you my right deny, Sir.

Saus. Your reason,-plea?-mere knavery! (proudly) marry and what am I, Sir?

I stake my fame and this way claim a right to prior speaking.
Chor. (gravely.) The reason's good, well understood;—if more the
foe be seeking,

Be it replied that you're a knave, and not of new creation,
But known and tried-on either side-through all your generation.

Cl. O I shall choke

Saus.

You shall not choke-myself am your prevention. Chor. (to Saus.) Forbear, forbear, my friend, nor mar so useful an

intention!

Cl. (to Saus.) Discuss-propound your eause-your ground for these your words nefarious.

Saus. My pow'rs of speech-my art to reach phrase season'd high and various

Cl. (contemptuously.) Your pow'rs of speech!-ill fare the cause beneath your hands e'er falling

Batter'd and rent, 'twill soon present a sample of your calling.
The same disease will fortune you-that meets our eyes not rarely :-
Hear-mark-reply, and own that I discuss the matter fairly.
Some petty suit 'gainst strangers gain'd-anon you're set a-crowing;
The mighty feat becomes forthwith a birth that's ever growing.
By day, by night, on foot, on horse, when riding or when walking,-
Your life a mere soliloquy-still of this feat you're talking.
You fall to drinking water next on generous wine you trample,
While friends are sore-worn o'er and o'er with specimen and sample.
And this attain'd, you think you've gain'd the palm of oratory-
Heav'n help thee, silly one, you've yet to learn another story,"

It may be fair to give an example of Mr M.'s powers in rendering those touches of poetry which so often illuminate the pages of Aristophanes. The following lines are very pretty : CHORAL HYMN.

Oh thou, whom Patroness we call
Of this the holiest land of all,

That circling seas admire;

The land where Power delights to dwell,
And War his mightiest feats can tell,
And Poesy to sweetest swell

Attunes her voice and lyre;

Come, blue-ey'd Maid, and with thee bring
The goddess of the eagle wing;

To help our bold endeavour:

Long have our armies own'd thy aid,
O Victory, immortal maid;

Now other deeds befits thee tell
A bolder foe remains to quell ;
Give aid then now or never, '

A much deeper spirit breathes in the following extract, which is the last we can afford room for, from the Parabasis. The poet, through the lips of his Chorus, is alluding to the fortunes of his precursors in the art:

Could it 'scape observing sight what was Magnes' wretched plight, when his hairs and his temples were hoary;

Yet who battled with more zeal or more trophies left to tell

of his former achievements and glory?

[clapping,

He came piping, § dancing, tapping,-fig-gnatting and wingfrog-besmeard and with Lydian grimaces:

Yet he too had his date, nor could wit nor merit great preserve him, unchang'd, in your graces.

Youth pass'd brilliantly and bright;-when his head was old and white, strange reverse and hard fortune confronted;

What boots taste and tact forsooth, if they've lost their nicest truth, or a wit where the edge has grown blunted!

Who Cratinus may forget, or the storm of whim and wit which shook theatres under his guiding?

When Panegyric's song pour'd her flood of praise along, who but he on the top wave was riding?

Foe nor rival might him meet; plane and oak ta'en by the feet did him instant and humble prostration;

For his step was as the tread of a flood that leaves its bed,

and his march it was rude desolation.

Who but he the foremost guest then on gala-day and feast? what strain fell from harp or musicians,

But" Doro, Doro sweet, nymph with fig-beslipper'd feet or—“ Ye verse-smiths and bard-mechanicians.

99

Thus in glory was he seen, while his years as yet were green; but now that his dotage is on him,

God help him! for no eye, of all those who pass him by, throws a look of compassion upon him.

'Tis a couch, but with the loss of its garnish and its gloss ;— 'tis a harp that hath lost all its cunning,

'Tis a pipe where deftest hand may the stops no more command, nor on its divisions be running.

Connas-like, he's chaplet-crown'd, and he paces round and round in a circle which never is ended;

On his head a chaplet hangs, but the curses and the pangs

of a drought on his lips are suspended.

We would not willingly interrupt the current of strong feeling, so simply and yet so beautifully expressed as in these latter lines especially, but we must remark, that in the verses printed in

The poet alludes in his peculiar manner to the titles of some of the dramatic works of Magnes.