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Whatever will happen now?
I can only imagine
what complaints he will make
against the man who wrote by far the most
and finest songs up to now.
(I wonder how
he'll criticize this man
the Dionysiac lord
And I fear for him.)

Quite marvelous songs, as this will soon make clear.
For I'll condense all his songs into one point.

Well then, I'll grab some pebbles and keep score.

“O Phthian Achilles, if you hear the manslaughtering
crash, ah, why do you not come to our aid?
To Hermes we, the ancestral race, pay homage by the lake,
crash, ah, why do you not come to our aid?

That's two crashes for you, Aeschylus.

“Most glorious of the Achaeans, far-ruling son of Atreus, learn of me,
crash, ah, why do you not come to our aid?”

This is your third crash, Aeschylus.

Be still. The Bee-nuns draw near to open the temple of Artemis.
Crash, ah, why do you not come to our aid?
I am charged with uttering the heroes' fateful command of the journey,
crash, ah, why do you not come to our aid?

King Zeus, what a load of crashes!
I for one want to go to the bathhouse,
For my kidneys are swollen with all this crashing.

Don't, before you hear another set of odes
assembled from his melodies for the lyre.

Go on, continue, but leave out the crash.

“How the twin-throned power of the Achaeans, of Grecian youth,
sends the sphinx, unlucky presiding dog,
The swooping bird with spear and avenging hand
Granting to the headlong sky-flying dogs to meet
The united force against Ajax

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  • Commentary references to this page (1):
    • James Adam, The Republic of Plato, 6.497C
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