Classic Poem

" THE A CHARNIANS . "

Servant . Who's there?
Dicaiopolis . Euripides within?
Servant . Within, yet not within. You comprehend me?
Dicaiopolis . Within and not within! why, what do ye mean?
Servant . I speak correctly, old sire! his outward man
Is in the garret writing tragedy;
While his essential being is abroad,
Pursuing whimsies in the world of fancy.
Dicaiopolis . O happy Euripides, with such a servant;
So clever and accomplished! — call him out.
Servant . It's quite impossible.
Dicaiopolis . But it must be done.
Positively and absolutely I must see him;
Or I must stand here, rapping at the door.
Euripides! Euripides! come down,
If ever you came down in all your life!
'T is I, 'tis Dicaiopolis from Chollidai.
Euripides . I'm not at leisure to come down.
Dicaiopolis . Perhaps —
But here's the scene-shifter can wheel you round.
Euripides . It cannot be.
Dicaiopolis . But however, notwithstanding.
Euripides . Well, there then I'm wheeled round; for I had not time
For coming down.
Dicaiopolis . Euripides, I say!
Euripides . What say ye?
Dicaiopolis . Euripides! Euripides!
Good lawk, you're there! upstairs! you write upstairs,
Instead of the ground-floor? always upstairs.
Well now, that's odd! But, dear Euripides,
If you had but a suit of rags that you could lend me.
You're he that brings out cripples in your tragedies;
A'nt ye? You're the new poet, he that writes
Those characters of beggars and blind people.
Well, dear Euripides, if you could but lend me
A suit of tatters from a cast-off tragedy.
For mercy's sake, for I'm obliged to make
A speech in my own defence before the Chorus,
A long pathetic speech this very day;
And if it fails, the doom of death betides me.
Euripides . Say, what do ye seek? is it the woful garb
In which the wretched aged Oineus acted?
Dicaiopolis . No, 't was a wretcheder man than Oineus, much.
Euripides . Was it blind Phoinix?
Dicaiopolis . No, not Phoinix, no,
A fellow a great deal wretcheder than Phoinix.
Euripides . I wonder what he wants; is it the rags
Which Philoctetes went a-begging with?
Dicaiopolis . No, 't was a beggar worse than Philoctetes.
Euripides . Say, would you wish to wear those loathly weeds,
The habiliments of lame Bellerophon?
Dicaiopolis . 'T was not Bellerophon, but very like him.
A kind of a smooth, fine-spoken character;
A beggar into the bargain and a cripple,
With a grand command of words, bothering and begging.
Euripides . I know your man; 't is Telephos the Mysian.
Dicaiopolis . Ah, Telephos! Yes, Telephos! do, pray,
Give me the things he wore.
Euripides . Go fetch them there.
You'll find 'em next to the tatters of Thyestes,
Just over Ino's. Take them, there, and welcome.
Dicaiopolis . O Jupiter, what an infinite endless mass
Of eternal holes and patches! Here it is,
Here's wherewithal to clothe myself in misery.
Euripides, now, since you've gone so far,
Do give me the other articles besides
Belonging to these rags, that suit with them,
With a little Mysian bonnet for my head.
For I must wear a beggar's garb to-day,
Yet be myself in spite of my disguise;
That the audience all may know me; but the Chorus,
Poor creatures, must not have the least suspicion
Whilst I cajole them with my rhetoric.
Euripides . I'll give it you; your scheme is excellent,
Deep, subtle, natural, a profound device.
Dicaiopolis . " May the heavens reward you; and as to Telephos,
May they decide his destiny as I wish! "
Why, bless me, I'm quite inspired (I think) with phrases.
I shall want the beggar's staff, tho, notwithstanding.
Euripides . Here, take it, and depart forth from the palace.
Dicaiopolis . O my poor heart! much hardship hast thou borne,
And must abide new sorrows even now,
Driven hence in want of various articles.
Subdue thy nature to necessity,
Be supple, smooth, importunate, and bend
Thy temper to the level of thy fortune. —
Yet grant me another boon, Euripides;
A little tiny basket let it be,
One that has held a lamp, all burnt and battered.
Euripides . Why should you need it?
Dicaiopolis . 'Tis no need, perhaps,
But strong desire, a longing, eager wish.
Euripides . You're troublesome. Depart.
Dicaiopolis . Alas, alas!
Yet may you prosper like your noble mother.
Euripides . Depart, I say.
Dicaiopolis . Don't say so! Give me first,
First give me a pipkin broken at the brim.
Euripides . You're troublesome in the mansion. Take it, go!
Dicaiopolis . Alas, you know not what I feel, Euripides.
Yet grant me a pitcher, good Euripides;
A pitcher with a sponge plugged in its mouth.
Euripides . Fellow, you'll plunder me a whole tragedy.
Take it, and go.
Dicaiopolis . Yes; ay forsooth, I'm going.
But how shall I contrive? There's something more
That makes or mars my fortune utterly;
Yet give them, and bid me go, my dear Euripides;
A little bundle of leaves to line my basket.
Euripides . For mercy's sake! ... But take them.
There they go!
My tragedies and all! ruined and robbed!
Dicaiopolis . No more; I mean to trouble you no more.
Yes, I retire; in truth I feel myself
Importunate, intruding on the presence
Of chiefs and princes, odious and unwelcome.
But out, alas, that I should so forget
The very point on which my fortune turns;
I wish I may be hanged, my dear Euripides,
If ever I trouble you for anything,
Except one little, little, little boon,
A single lettuce from your mother's stall.
Euripides . This stranger taunts us. Close the palace gate.
Dicaiopolis . O my poor soul, endure it and depart,
And take thy sorrowful leave, without a lettuce.
Yet, knowest thou yet the race which must be run,
Pleading the cause of Sparta: and here you stand
Even at the goal; time urges, arm yourself!
Infuse the spirit of Euripides,
His quirks and quibbles, in thine inmost heart!
'T is well. Now forward, even to the place
Where thou must pledge thy life, and plead the cause
As may befall thee. Forward, forward yet;
A little more. I'm dreadfully out of spirits.