CALLIDEMUS. Then what, in the name of Bacchus, do you make him say? SPEUSIPPUS. You shall hear; and if it be not in the very style of Euripides, call me a fool, CALLIDEMUS, That is a liberty which I shall venture to take, whether it be or no. But go on. SPEUSIPPUS. Prometheus begins thus: "Cœlus begat Saturn and Briareus, CALLIDEMUS. Very beautiful, and very natural; and, as you say, very like Euripides. SPEUSIPPUS. You are sneering. Really, father, you do not understand these things. You had not those advantages in your youth CALLIDEMUS. Which I have been fool enough to let you have. No; in my early days, lying had not been dignified into a science, nor politics degraded into a trade. I wrestled, and read Homer's battles, instead of dressing my hair, and reciting lectures in verse out of Euripides. But I have some notion of what a play should be; I have seen Phrynichus, and lived with Eschylus, I saw the representation of the Persians. SPEUSIPPUS. A wretched play; it may amuse the fools who row the triremes; but it is utterly unworthy to be read by any man of taste. CALLIDEMUS. If you had seen it acted;-the whole theatre frantic with joy, stamping, shouting, laughing, crying. There was Cynægeirus, the brother of Eschylus, who lost both his arms at Marathon, beating the stumps against his sides with rapture. When the crowd remarked him.-But where are you going? SPEUSIPPUS. To sup with Alcibiades; he sails with the expedition for Sicily in a few days; this is his farewell entertaininent. CALLIDEMUS. So much the better; I should say, so much the worse. That cursed Sicilian expedition! And you were one of the young fools who stood clapping and shouting while he was gulling the rabble, and who drowned poor Nicias's voice with your uproar; look to it; a day of reckoning will come. Alcibiades himself SPEUSIPPUs. As to What can you say against him? His enemies themselves acknowledge his merit. CALLIDEMUS. They acknowledge that he is clever, and handsome, and that he was crowned at the Olympic games. And what other merits do his friends claim for him? A precious assembly you will meet at his house, no doubt. SPEUSIPPUs. The first men in Athens, probably. CALLIDEMUS. Whom do you mean by the first men in Athens ? A fool, who can talk of nothing but his travels through Persia and Egypt. Go, go. The gods forbid that I should detain you from such choice society. [Exeunt severally. II. SCENE-A Hall in the House of ALCIBIADES. ALCIBIADES, SPEUSIPPUS, CALLICLES, HIPPOMACHUS, CHARICLEA, and others, seated round a Table, feasting. ALCIBIADES. Bring larger cups. This shall be our gayest revel. It is probably the last-for some of us at least. SPEUSIPPUS. At all events, it will be long before you taste such wine again, Alcibiades. *See Thucydides VI. 13. Callicles plays a conspicuous part in the Gorgias of Plato, CALLICLES. Nay, there is excellent wine in Sicily. When I was there with Eurymedon's squadron, I had many a long carouse. You never saw finer grapes than those of Ætna. HIPPOMACHUS. The Greeks do not understand the art of making wine. Your Persian is the man. So rich, so fragrant, so sparkling. I will tell you what the Satrap of Caria said to me about that when I supped with him. ALCIBIADES. Nay, sweet Hippomachus; not a word to-night about satraps, or the great king, or the walls of Babylon, or the Pyramids, or the mummies. Chariclea, why do you look so sad? CHARICLEA. Can I be cheerful when you are going to leave me, Alcibiades? ALCIBIADES. My life, my sweet soul, it is but for a short time. In a year we conquer Sicily. In another, we humble Carthage. I will bring back such robes, such necklaces, elephants' teeth by thousands, ay, and the elephants themselves, if you wish to see them. Nay, smile, my Chariclea, or I shall talk nonsense to no purpose. HIPPOMACHUS. The largest elephant that I ever saw was in the grounds of Teribazus, near Susa. I wish that I had measured him. ALCIBIADES. I wish that he had trod upon you. Come, come, Chariclea, we shall soon return, and then ALCIBIADES. My own. Think you, because I do not shut myself up to meditate, and drink water, and eat herbs, that I cannot write verses? By Apollo, if I did not spend my days in politics, and my nights in revelry, I should have made Sophocles tremble. But now I never go beyond a little song like this, and never invoke any Muse but Chariclea. But come, Speusippus, sing. You are a professed poet. Let us have some of your verses. SPEUSIPPUS. My verses! How can you talk so? I a professed poet! ALCIBIADES. Oh, content you, sweet Speusippus. We all know your designs upon the tragic honours. Come, sing. A chorus of your new play. Nay, nay—— SPEUSIPPUS. HIPPOMACHUS. When a guest who is asked to sing at a Persian banquet, refuses SPEUSIPPUS. In the name of Bacchus ALCIBIADES. I am absolute. Sing. SPEUSIPPUS. Well, then, I will sing you a chorus, which, I think, is a tolerable imitation of Euripides. CHARICLEA. Of Euripides?-Not a word! ALCIBIADES. Why so, sweet Chariclea? CHARICLEA. Would you have me betray my sex? Would you have me forget his Phædras and Sthenobœas? No: if I ever suffer any lines of that woman hater, or his imitators, to be sung in my presence, may I* sell herbs like his mother, and wear rags like his Telephust. ALCIBIADES. Then, sweet Chariclea, since you have silenced Speusippus, you shall sing yourself. *The mother of Euripides was a herb-woman. This was a favourite topic of Aristophanes. The hero of one of the lost plays of Euripides, who appears to have been brought upon the stage in the garb of a beggar. See Aristophanes Acharn. 430, and in other places, What shall I sing? CHARICLEA. ALCIBIADES. Nay, choose for yourself. CHARICLEA. Then I will sing an old Ionian hymn, which is chanted every spring at the feast of Venus, near Miletus. I used to sing it in my own country when I was a child; and-Ah, Alcibiades! ALCIBIADES. Dear Chariclea, you shall sing something else. This distresses you. CHARICLEA. No: hand me the lyre:-no matter. You will hear the song to disadvantage. But if it were sung as I have heard it sung-if this were a beautiful morning in spring, and if we were standing on a woody promontory, with the sea, and the white sails, and the blue Cyclades beneath us,-and the portico of a temple peeping through the trees on a huge peak above our heads, and thousands of people, with myrtles in their hands, thronging up the winding path, their gay dresses and garlands disappearing and emerging by turns as they passed round the angles of the rock,-then perhaps― ALCIBIADES. Now, by Venus herself, sweet lady, where you are we shall lack neither sun, nor flowers, nor spring, nor temple, nor goddess. CHARICLEA. (Sings.) Let this sunny hour be given, Venus, unto love and mirth: By whate'er of soft expression Glowing cheeks and stifled sighs ; By the pleasure and the pain, By the follies and the wiles, Pouting fondness, sweet disdain, |