[To the Chorus.
Hoo.Here you, take these same arms, in the name of Heaven,435
And hang them quietly in the chimney corner;
[Turning to Peisthetairus.
And you communicate your scheme, exhibiting
Your proofs and calculations—the discourse
Which they were called to attend to.
Peis.No, not I!
By Jove; unless they agree to an armistice;440
Such as the little poor baboon, our neighbour,
The sword cutler, concluded with his wife;
That they shan't bite me, or take unfair advantage
In any way.
Chorus.We won't.
Peis.Well, swear it then!
Chorus.We swear; by our hope of gaining the first prize,445
With the general approval and consent,
Of the whole audience, and of all the judges—
And if we fail, may the reproach befall us,
Of gaining it, only by the casting vote.
It should seem that the success of this play must have been a subject of more than usual anxiety both to the Poet himself, and to the Choregus (the wealthy citizen charged with the expense and management of a theatrical entertainment), and his friends: we may conceive it to have been intended as a sedative to the mind of the commonalty, excited as they were at the time, almost to madness by the suspicion of a conspiracy against the religion and laws of the country; a suspicion originating in a profane outrage secretly perpetrated, to a great extent, in mere insolence and wantonness, by some young men of family. In the opinion, however, of the Athenian people, the offence was viewed in a very serious light, as the result of an extensive secret combination (on the part of persons bound and engaged to each other by their common participation in the guilt of sacrilege), preparatory to other attempts still more criminal and dangerous. In this state of things, and while the popular fury and jealousy upon