DIONYSUS But was easy here, is easy there.
HERACLES But Agathon, where is he?
DIONYSUS He has gone and left us. A genial poet, by his friends much missed.
HERACLES Gone where?
DIONYSUS To join the blessed in their banquets.
HERACLES But what of Xenocles?
DIONYSUS O he be hanged!
HERACLES Pythangelus?
XANTHIAS But never a word of me, Not though my shoulder’s chafed so terribly.
HERACLES But have you not a shoal of little songsters, Tragedians by the myriad, who can chatter A furlong faster than Euripides?
DIONYSUS Those be mere vintage-leavings, jabberers, choirs Of swallow-broods, degraders of their art, Who get one chorus, and are seen no more, The Muses’ love once gained. But O, my friend, Search where you will, you’ll never find a true Creative genius, uttering startling things.
HERACLES Creative? how do you mean?
DIONYSUS I mean a man Who’ll dare some novel venturesome conceit, Air, Zeus’s chamber, or Time’s foot, or this, ’Twas not my mind that swore: my tongue committed A little perjury on its own account.
HERACLES You like that style?
DIONYSUS Like it? I dote upon it.
HERACLES I vow its ribald nonsense, and you know it.
DIONYSUS “Rule not my mind”: you’ve got a house to mind.
HERACLES Really and truly though ’tis paltry stuff.
DIONYSUS Teach me to dine!
XANTHIAS But never a word of me.
DIONYSUS But tell me truly—’twas for this I came Dressed up to mimic you—what friends received And entertained you when you went below To bring back Cerberus, in case I need them. And tell me too the havens, fountains, shops, Roads, resting-places, stews, refreshment rooms, Towns, lodgings, hostesses, with whom were found The fewest bugs.
XANTHIAS But never a word of me.
HERACLES You are really game to go?
DIONYSUS O drop that, can’t you? And tell me this: of all the roads you know
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