Of rustic natures, then delighted most
When from some bold declaimer, right or wrong,
They hear their country's praises and their own;
Delighted, but deluded all the while,
Unconsciously bamboozled and befooled.
And well I know the minds of aged men,
And the malignant pleasure that they feel
In a harsh verdict or an angry vote.
And well I recollect my sufferings past
From Cleon, for my comedy last year;[1] 460
And how he dragged me to the senate house,
And trod me down, and bellowed over me,
And licked me with the rough side of his tongue;
And mauled me, till I scarce escaped alive,
All battered and bespattered and befouled.
Permit me, therefore, first to clothe myself
In a pathetical and heartrending dress.
Chorus. It's no use! mere excuse!
Mere pretence!
Take what you will for your defence, 470
Anything you think of use,
Even the invisible huge hobgoblin helmet
Of the learned Hieronymus,[2] if you choose.
I care not, I;
You may try
The tricks and turns of Sisyphus in the play;[3]
We grant free leave for all, but no delay.
Dic. Well, I must try then to keep up my spirits,
And trudge away to find Euripides.
Holloh! 480
Servant. Who's there?
Dic. Euripides within?
Serv. Within, yet not within. You comprehend me?
Dic. Within and not within! why, what do ye mean?
Serv. I speak correctly, old sire! his outward man
Is in the garret writing tragedy;
