CALLIDEMUS.
A tragedy of yours?

SPEUSIPPUS.
Even so.

CALLIDEMUS.
Oh Hercules! Oh Bacchus! This is too much. Here is an
universal genius; sophist,--orator,--poet. To what a three-
headed monster have I given birth! a perfect Cerberus of
intellect! And pray what may your piece be about? Or will your
tragedy, like your speech, serve equally for any subject?

SPEUSIPPUS.
I thought of several plots;--Oedipus,--Eteocles and Polynices,--
the war of Troy,--the murder of Agamemnon.

CALLIDEMUS.
And what have you chosen?

SPEUSIPPUS.
You know there is a law which permits any modern poet to retouch
a play of Aeschylus, and bring it forward as his own composition.
And, as there is an absurd prejudice, among the vulgar, in favour
of his extravagant pieces, I have selected one of them, and
altered it.

CALLIDEMUS.
Which of them?