Dionysus.
My dear sir, I must beg! Control your language.
Euripides.
I know him; I've seen through him years ago;
Bard of the "noble savage," wooden-mouthed,
No door, no bolt, no bridle to his tongue,
A torrent of pure bombast—tied in bundles!
Aeschylus (breaking out).
How say'st thou. Son o' the goddess of the Greens?—
You dare speak thus of me, you phrase-collector,
Blind-beggar-bard and scum of rifled rag-bags!
Oh, you shall rue it!
Dionysus.
Stop! Stop, Aeschylus;
Strike not thine heart to fire on rancour old.
Aeschylus.
No; I'll expose this crutch-and-cripple playwright,
And what he's worth for all his insolence.
Dionysus (to attendants).
A lamb, a black lamb, quick, boys! Bring it out
To sacrifice; a hurricane's let loose!
Aeschylus (to Euripides).
You and your Cretan dancing-solos! You
And the ugly amours that you set to verse!
Dionysus (interposing).
One moment, please, most noble Aeschylus!
And you, poor wretch, if you have any prudence,
