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ARISTOPHANES.
As for us, the sole pretension suited to our birth and years,
Is with resolute intention, as determined volunteers,
To defend our fields and altars, as our fathers did before;
Claiming as a recompense this easy boon, and nothing more:
When our trials with peace are ended, not to view us with malignity,
When we're curried, sleek and pampered, prancing in our pride and dignity."[1]—(F.)
- ↑ This Chorus has been imitated, in the true Aristophanic vein, by Mr Trevelyan, in his 'Ladies in Parliament:'—
"We much revere our sires, who were a mighty race of men;
For every glass of port we drink, they nothing thought of ten.
They dwelt above the foulest drains: they breathed the closest air:
They had their yearly twinge of gout, and little seemed, to care.
They set those meddling people down for Jacobins or fools,
Who talked of public libraries and grants to normal schools;
Since common folks who read and write, and like their betters speak,
Want something more than pipes and beer, and sermons once a-week.
And therefore both by land and sea their match they rarely met,
But made the name of Britain great, and ran her deep in debt.
They seldom stopped to count the foe, nor sum the moneys spent,
But clenched then teeth, and straight ahead with sword and musket went.
And, though they thought if trade were free that England ne'er would thrive,
They freely gave their blood for Moore, and Wellington, and Clive.
And though they burned their coal at home, nor fetched then ice from Wenham,
They played the man before Quebec, and stormed the lines at Blenheim.
When sailors lived on mouldy bread, and lumps of rusty pork,
No Frenchman dared his nose to show between the Downs and Cork;
But now that Jack gets beef and greens, and next his skin wears flannel,
The 'Standard' says, we've not a ship in plight to keep the Channel."
