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Choicest ills betide me! if e'er I ask Aught more than this; but one this one alone: Throw me a pot-herb from thy mother's stock. EURIPIDES. The fellow would insult me shut the door. DIKAIOPOLIS. Soul of me, thou must go without a pot-herb! Wist thou what conflict thou must soon contend in To proffer speech and full defence for Sparta? Forward, my soul! the barriers are before thee.
EURIPIDES. You're getting troublesome. Come pack be off. Faugh! EURIPIDES. Be off, I say! DIKAIOPOLIS. Not till thou grant'st my prayer. Only a little cup with broken rim. EURIPIDES. Take it and go; for know you're quite a plague. EURIPIDES. The man would rob me of a tragedy complete. There take it, and begone. DIKAIOPOLIS. Well! I am going. Yet what to do? One thing I lack, whose want Undoes me.
Shortly afterwards Lamachus returns, supported by two of his comrades, with a broken head and a lame foot, and from the other side Dikaiopolis is brought in drunk, and led by two good-natured damsels. The lamentations of the one are perpetually mimicked and ridiculed in the rejoicings of the other; and with this contrast, which is carried to the very utmost limit, the play ends.
EURIPIDES. What would'st thou with thy bawling. DIKAIOPOLIS What! you compose aloft and not below. No wonder if your muse's bantlings halt. Again, those rags and cloak right tragical, The very garb for sketching beggars in! But sweet Euripides, a boon, I pray thee. Give me the moving rags of some old play; I've a long speech to make before the Chorus, And if I falter, why the forfeit's death.
DIKAIOPOLIS. I say, you must though For hence I will not budge, but knock the door down. Euripides, Euripides, my darling! Hear me, at least, if deaf to all besides. 'Tis Dikaiopolis of Chollis calls you. EURIPIDES. I have not time. DIKAIOPOLIS. At least roll round. EURIPIDES. I can't. DIKAIOPOLIS. You must. EURIPIDES. Well, I'll roll round. Come down I can't; I'm busy. DIKAIOPOLIS. Euripides!
DIKAIOPOLIS. No; but a person still more beggarly. EURIPIDES. I have it. You want the sorry garments Bellerophon, the lame man, used to wear. DIKAIOPOLIS. No, not Bellerophon. Though the man I mean Was lame, importunate, and bold of speech. EURIPIDES. I know, 'Tis Telephus the Mysian. DIKAIOPOLIS. Right. Yes, Telephus: lend me his rags I pray you. EURIPIDES. Ho, boy! Give him the rags of Telephus.
CEPHISOPHON. Within, and not within: Can'st fathom that? DIKAIOPOLIS. How within, yet not within? CEPHISOPHON. 'Tis true, old fellow. His mind is out collecting dainty verses, And not within. But he's himself aloft Writing a tragedy. DIKAIOPOLIS. Happy Euripides, Whose servant here can give such witty answers. Call him. CEPHISOPHON. It may not be.
Lamachus, the celebrated general, who lives on the other side, is, in consequence of a sudden inroad of the enemy, called away to defend the frontiers; Dikaiopolis, on the other hand, is invited by his neighbours to a feast, where every one brings his own scot.
In this ticklish predicament, he calls on Euripides, to lend him the tattered garments in which that poet's heroes were in the habit of exciting commiseration. We must suppose the house of the tragic poet to occupy the middle of the back scene. DIKAIOPOLIS. 'Tis time I pluck up all my courage then, And pay a visit to Euripides. Boy, boy! CEPHISOPHON. Who's there? DIKAIOPOLIS. Is Euripides within?
DIKAIOPOLIS. "For thee. my blessing; for Telephus, my thoughts." 'Tis well; already, words flow thick and fast. Oh! I had near forgot A beggar's staff, I pray. EURIPIDES. Here, take one, and thyself too from these doors. Become at once A supple, oily beggar. EURIPIDES. Poor wretch! A basket? What's thy need on't? DIKAIOPOLIS. No need beyond the simple wish to have it.
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