Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THE FROGS: THE FATAL OIL-FLASK by ARISTOPHANES

First Line: NAY, I'LL NOT CHIP AND SCRATCH THEM LINE BY LINE
Last Line: THIS POCKET-FLASK WILL BLOW A HEAVY GALE.
Subject(s): AESCHYLUS (525-456 B.C.); EURIPIDES (484-406 B.C.);

AESCHYLUS. EURIPIDES. DIONYSUS

AES.

Nay, I'll not chip and scratch them line by line,
Phrase after phrase, but, an Heav'n help my task,
Ruin your prologues with -- a pocket-flask.

EUR.

Mine! with a pocket-flask!

AES.

But one I ask.
They're so composed they'll suffer any tag,
Eider-down, pocket-flask, or carpet-bag,
In the line's structure. I'll soon show you how.

EUR.

O @3you@1 will show me?

AES.

Yes.

DION.

Recite some now.

EUR.

'AEgyptus, this the tale sown far and wide,
With fifty sons upon the oar did ride
To Argos' shore and . . .'

AES.

Lost his pocket-flask.

DION.

(@3puzzled@1) What @3is@1 this flask? There's trouble still in store.
Say him another, let me see once more.

EUR.

'With wand and fawnskin Dionysus dight
Mid the pine torches o'er Parnassus' height
Footed the dance and . . .'

AES.

Lost his pocket-flask.

DION.

Gracious! The flask has scored another hit.

EUR.

O there's no need to trouble. Wait a bit,
I have a prologue here his flask won't fit.
'Bliss ne'er for man complete in all may be.
Either he hath high birth with poverty,
Or lowly blood and . . .'

AES.

Lost his pocket-flask.

DION.

Euripides --

EUR.

Yes?

DION.

I'm for lowering sail,
This pocket-flask will blow a heavy gale.



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