burlesque, of which, their comic dramatists liberally availed themselves. But in truth there is a temptation to burlesque and parody presented by all religions, more or less, on their external side. Romanism and Puritanism have met with very similar treatment amongst ourselves; and one has only to refer to the old miracle-plays, and such celebrations as the Fête d'Ane, to be convinced how closely in such matters jest and earnest lie side by side.
But the festivities are very soon interrupted. The Acharnians have scented their prey at last, and rush in upon the celebrant with a shower of stones. Dicæopolis begs to know what crime he has committed. They soon let him know it: he has presumed to separate his private interest from the public cause, and to make a private treaty with the detested Spartans. They will listen to no explanation:—
"Don't imagine to cajole us with your argument and fetches!
You confess you've made a peace with these abominable wretches?
Dic. Well—the very Spartans even—I've my doubts and scruples whether
They've been totally to blame, in every instance, altogether.
Cho. Not to blame in every instance?—villain, vagabond! how dare ye?
Talking treason to our faces, to suppose that we shall spare ye?
Dic. Not so totally to blame; and I will show that, here and there,
