AESCHYLUS. Why, fool, 'tis a device that is painted on the prow of a vessel.
DIONYSUS. Ah! I actually thought 'twas Eryxis, the son of
Philoxenus.[475]
EURIPIDES. But what did you want with a cock in tragedy?
AESCHYLUS. But you, you foe of the gods, what have you done that is so good?
EURIPIDES. Oh! I have not made horses with cocks' heads like you, nor goats with deer's horns, as you may see 'em on Persian tapestries; but, when I received tragedy from your hands, it was quite bloated with enormous, ponderous words, and I began by lightening it of its heavy baggage and treated it with little verses, with subtle arguments, with the sap of white beet and decoctions of philosophical folly, the whole being well filtered together;[476] then I fed it with monologues, mixing in some Cephisophon;[477] but I did not chatter at random nor mix in any ingredients that first came to hand; from the outset I made my subject clear, and told the origin of the piece.
AESCHYLUS. Well, that was better than telling your own.[478]
EURIPIDES. Then, starting with the very first verse, each character played his part; all spoke, both woman and slave and master, young girl and old hag.[479]
AESCHYLUS. And was not such daring deserving of death?
EURIPIDES. No, by Apollo! 'twas to please the people.
DIONYSUS. Oh! leave that alone, do; 'tis not the best side of your case.