SCENE FROM "THE FROGS OF ARISTOPHANES"

Translated in the Quarterly Review.

We are not at present breathing the air either of Christ Church meadow or Trinity gardens; and if our version of a piece of mere pleasantry, which involves nothing in it beyond a moment's laugh, should be so happy as to satisfy the 'general reader,' we shall affect 'for the nonce,' to know nothing of the objections which more scientific persons, the students of the brilliant Hermann, and acute Reisigius, might be supposed to make to our arrangement of this little extravaganza.

Scene, the Acherusian Lake. BACCHUS at the oar in Charon's Boat; CHARON;—CHORUS OF FROGS; in the background a view of Bacchus's Temple or Theatre, from which are heard the sound of a scenical entertainment.

Semi-chorus. Croak, croak, croak.

Semi-chorus. Croak, croak, croak.

(In answer, and with the music an octave lower.)

Full Chorus. Croak, croak, croak.

LEADER of the Chorus. When[1] flagons were foaming,

And roisterers were roaming,

And bards flung about them their gibe and their joke;

The holiest song

Still was found to belong

To the sons of the marsh, with their

Full Chorus Croak, croak.

LEADER. Shall we pause in our strain,

Now the months bring again

The pipe and the minstrel to gladden the folk?

Rather strike on the ear

With a note strong and clear,

A chant corresponding of—

Chorus. Croak, croak.

BACCHUS (mimicking.) Croak, croak, by the gods I shall choke,

If you pester and bore my ears any more

With your croak, croak, croak.

LEADER. Rude companion and vain,

Thus to carp at my strain;

(To Chor) But keep in the vein,

And attack him again

With a croak, croak, croak.

Chorus (crescendo.) Croak, croak, croak.

BACCHUS (mimicking.) Croak, croak, vapour and smoke,

Never think it, old Huff,

That I care for such stuff,

As your croak, croak, croak.

Chorus (fortissimo.) Croak, croak, croak.

BACCHUS. Now fires light on thee,

And waters soak;

And March winds catch thee

Without any cloak.

For within and without,

From the tail to the snout,

Thou'rt nothing but croak, croak, croak.

LEADER. And what else, captious Newcomer, say, should I be?

But you know not to whom you are talking, I see:

(With dignity) I'm the friend of the Muses, and Pan with his pipe,

Holds me dearer by far than a cherry that's ripe:

For the reed and the cane which his music supply,

Who gives them their tone and their moisture but I?

And therefore for ever I'll utter my cry

Of—

Chorus. Croak, croak, croak.

BACCHUS. I'm blister'd, I'm fluster'd, I'm sick, I'm ill—

Chorus. Croak, croak.

BACCHUS. My dear little bull-frog, do prithee be still.

'Tis a sorry vocation—that reiteration,

(I speak on, my honour, most musical nation,)

Of croak, croak.

LEADER (maestoso.) When the sun rides in glory and makes a bright day,

Mid lilies and plants of the water I stray;

Or when the sky darkens with tempest and rain,

I sink like a pearl in my watery domain:

Yet, sinking or swimming. I lift up a song,

Or I drive a gay dance with my eloquent throng,

Then hey bubble, bubble—

For a knave's petty trouble,

Shall I my high charter and birth-right revoke?

Nay, my efforts I'll double,

And drive him like stubbie

Before me, with—

Chorus. Croak, croak, croak.

BACCHUS. I'm ribs of steel, I'm heart of oak,

Let us see if a note

May be found in this throat

To answer their croak, croak, croak.

(Croaks loudly.)

LEADER. Poor vanity's son—

And dost think me outdone,

With a clamour no bigger

Than a maiden's first snigger?

(To Chorus) But strike up a tune,

He shall not forget soon

(Chorus.) Of our croak, croak, croak,

(Croak, with a discordant crash of music.)

BACCHUS. I'm cinder, I'm coke,

I have had my death-stroke;

O, that ever I woke

To be gall'd by the yoke

Of this croak, croak, croak, croak.

LEADER. Friend, friend, I may not be still:

My destinies high I must needs fulfil,

And the march of creation—despite reprobation

Must proceed with—(To Chor.) my lads, must I make application

For a—

Chorus. Croak, croak, croak.

BACCHUS (in a minor key.) Nay, nay—take your own way,

I've said out my say,

And care naught, by my fai',

For your croak, croak, croak.

LEADER. Care or care not, 'tis the same thing to me,

My voice is my own and my actions are free;

I have but one note, and I'll chant it with glee,

And from morning to night that note it shall be—

Chorus. Croak, croak, croak.

BACCHUS. Nay then, old rebel, but I'll stop your treble,

With a poke, poke, poke:

Take this from my rudder—(dashing at the frogs)—and that from my oar,

And now let us see if you'll trouble us more

With your croak, croak, croak.

LEADER. You may batter and bore,

You may thunder and roar,

Yet I'll never give o'er

Till I'm hard at death's door,

—(This rib's plaguy sore)—

Semi-chorus With my croak, croak, croak.

Semi-chorus (diminuendo.) With my croak, croak, croak.

Full Chorus (in a dying cadence.) With my

croak—croak—croak.

(The Frogs disappear)

BACCHUS (looking over the boat's edge.)

Spoke, spoke, spoke.

(To Charon.) Pull away, my old friend,

For at last there's an end

To their croak, croak, croak.

(Bacchus pays his two obols, and is landed)