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Not him, by Zeus, but he kissed Aeschylus
When he arrived, and shook his hand,
And yielded the chair to him.
Now he intends, so says Cleidemides,
to sit out in reserve. And if Aeschylus wins,
he'll stay put; if not, he said he'd fight
against Euripides for the sake of his art.

So this thing will really happen?

Yes, just a little later,
and here there'll be an awful commotion.
For poetry will be measured out on scales!

What? They're going to weigh tragedy by the ounce?

And they'll bring out rulers and verbal yardsticks,
and flexible frames,

Then they'll be making bricks?

And bevels and wedges. Because Euripides
says he'll test the plays word by word.

I guess Aeschylus is taking it pretty hard.

Well, he lowered his head and cast a bullish glance.

And who's to be the judge?

That was difficult.
You'll find a shortage of sophisticated men.
Aeschylus didn't get along with the Athenians—

Maybe he thought most of them were crooks.

And he considered the rest trash for judging
the essence of poets: so to your master
they turned, since he has experience in the art.
But let's go in; for when masters
are in a hurry, it means trouble for us.

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