thias"—he does nothing but game and drink." They find that life "below stairs" is very much the same in Tartarus as it is in the upper regions; and both agree that what they enjoy most is listening at the door, and discussing their masters' secrets with their own friends afterwards. While the two retainers are engaged in this interesting conversation, a noise outside attracts the new-comer's attention. "Oh," says Æacus, " it's only Æschylus and Euripides quarrelling. There's a tremendous rivalry going on just now among these dead people." He explains to his guest that special rank and precedence, with a seat at the royal table, is accorded in the Shades to the artist or professor who stands first in his own line, Æschylus had held the chair of tragedy until Euripides appeared below: but now this latter has made a party in his own favour—"chiefly of rogues and vagabonds"—and has laid claim to the chair. Æschylus has his friends among the respectable men; but respectable men are as scarce in the Shades—"as they are in this present company," observes Æacus, with a wave of his hand towards the audience.[1] So Pluto (who appears a very affable and good-humoured monarch) has determined that there shall be a public
- ↑ We find something of this professional badinage to the audience in Shakspeare's "Hamlet" (act v. sc. i.):—
Ham. Marry, why was he sent into England?
1st Grave-d. Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits there; or if he do not, 'tis no great matter there.
Ham. Why?
1st Gr. 'Twill not be seen in him there—there the men are as mad as he.
