DOI issue:
July to December, 1844
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16520#0054
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 47
THE SEVEN WISE MEN.
[A newly-discovered Tragedy nf JErrhylus, translated expressly for Punch,']
the wisest op the wtse men.
Narrate then how the sad occurrence came to pass.
spectek.
Sages, scarce had I begun, than horrid foes set up a hiss;
But my friends were strong and mighty, and they said, "Halloh, what's
[Thts singular Drama is a real curiosity. Our researches, after six this?"
months' fag in the British Museum, have been totally fruitless in dis-1 « Turn them out," and "Throw them over," "Shame, shame, shame!"
covering the period of ancienr history to which it refers. The introduction
of the wise men of Greece affords no clue at all, for the functions and
fate of these persons in the Tragedy are so totally different from those
and " Ho police !'
"Don't you like it ? You can lump it." " Go on, and don't mind th«
•eese."
handed down from any other source, that a doubt rationally arises j 0n we t a ,inle further, and the « row " got louder still
whether they are in fact the " Wise Men of Greece," commonly so called.
Some expressions, which seem of a modern character, have led to a
suspicion that the Tragedy is not really the work of ^Eschylus. This
suspicion must, however, immediately vanish, if due attention be paid
to the stern simplicity of the plot, which most unquestionably shows the
hand of the old tragedian, to say nothing of the affinity of treatment which
exists between this play and the Perses. In the translation liberties
have been taken with the lyric metres, but in the opening speech and
the speech of the spectre, the Iambic trimeters and Trochaic tetrameters
have been carefully preserved.]
ARGUMENT.
Artaxerxes, tyrant of the Echinades, and a great patron of tragic art, offers the
writer of the best Tragedy his weight in gold, and appoints the seven Sages of Greece
arbiters to decide the merits of competitors. After fifty years they arrive at a decision,
but the Tragedy proves unsuccessful. Artaxerxes, indignant, putstheseven Sages to
death, and then, in a fit of remorse, kills himself. The scene takes place in a portico,
•bere the seven Sages are resting from iheir labjurs.
CTjararlrrs'.
the seven wise men. chorus of MALCONTENTS.
spectre. arta xerxes. messenger.
the wisest of the wise men.
Thus forty thousand tragedies have we read through,
And prayed to BACcnus, patron of the tragic art.
Long was our task and weary, but we now shall reap
The mighty praise which labour well bestowed deserves.
When we began to read we were but little boys,
But we went reading on till hair and beard grew white,
And now we look back on our tedious lengthy life,
And only see a vista of long tragedies.
To him that wrote the best of this tremendous lot,
Great Artaxerxes hath allowed his weight in gold,
Appointing us to be the sapient arbiters.
We have decided after reading fifty years,
And now hard by the wondrous tragedy is played,
Of that bless'd wight who gained his weight in solid gold.
But hark, we hear the murmurings are gathering loud
Of that vile herd whose tragedies bestrew the earth.
chorus of malcontents.
I am neglected,
I am rejected,
Long I suspected
This was a do.
With my head crazine,
With my heart blazing,
Sure 1 '11 be raising
A philaloo.
Ate rides on «bee)s of fire,
Makes my arteries boil with ire;
Never again my proud head shall I Tear,
Till my thirsty ears the glad news hear
That the tragedy is dammed.
Then will my heart be crammed
With joy transcendant, nigh as
Great as Apollo's when be played Marsvas.
the wisest of the wise men.
Oh ! what's this horrid form that makes our blood to freeze,
Our skins are chill'd, our hair is standing up-an-end.
spectre
Know that I be,
'he defunct tragedie.
Me best you decided.
But just now I die did.
Such a "row " yeu never heard, and much I hope you never will.
Some like snakes were hissing, while some others had a mighty cough :
Some cried " Trash ! " and some cried " Rubbish ! " others lovdlj
yell'd "Off, off !"
Artaxerxes then came forward. To the countless mob he told
How he gave the man who made the Tragedy his weight in gold.
Then the mob roar'd more than ever, and a fellow strong and stoat,
Hallooed in a voice of thunder, " That, old boy, is your look-out! "
Thus, thus, I died
In the midst of my pride.
the wisest op the wise men.
Oh horrid fate, who can our pain assuage
And here comes Artaxerxes in a rage.
artaxerxes.
Yes, you are wise men,
Giving my prize, men,
To him who has written, as surely you'll own,
The very worst Tragedy ever was known.
Oh, nought could be worse,
It was not worth a curse.
the wisest of the wise men.
We feel, we feel, to anguish we are brought.
ARTAXERXES.
Feel it ! By father Zeus and so you ought.
What ho ! my guards—you chaps in waiting there.
Conduct these sapient men to-you know where.
chorus of malcontents.
We are elated,
Thus it was tated.
Hail mighty Bacchus, Semkle's boy !
Let us exult in our terrible joy.
messenger.
Oh, I have very horrid news indeed to tell !
To yonder mount the guards the Seven Sages led
And in quick order struck oft' all their seven heads,
Forgiving Artaxerxes' prize unworthily.
Then dark remorse invaded Artaxerxes' heart.
And in the sea he flung himself, and there was drown'i
Now, he who is the bearer of unhappy news,
Is most unfit to breathe—so thus I kill myself.
chorus of malcontents.
We are elated, &c. &c.
WRITE ME DOWN, &c.
Colonel Sibthokp, on a late occasion observed, in his place
in Parliament, quoting Shakspeare, that the " galled jade might
w'raee, but that his (Col. Sibthorp's) withers were unwrung."
With what animal did the honourable and gallant Colonel
identify himself !
THE SEVEN WISE MEN.
[A newly-discovered Tragedy nf JErrhylus, translated expressly for Punch,']
the wisest op the wtse men.
Narrate then how the sad occurrence came to pass.
spectek.
Sages, scarce had I begun, than horrid foes set up a hiss;
But my friends were strong and mighty, and they said, "Halloh, what's
[Thts singular Drama is a real curiosity. Our researches, after six this?"
months' fag in the British Museum, have been totally fruitless in dis-1 « Turn them out," and "Throw them over," "Shame, shame, shame!"
covering the period of ancienr history to which it refers. The introduction
of the wise men of Greece affords no clue at all, for the functions and
fate of these persons in the Tragedy are so totally different from those
and " Ho police !'
"Don't you like it ? You can lump it." " Go on, and don't mind th«
•eese."
handed down from any other source, that a doubt rationally arises j 0n we t a ,inle further, and the « row " got louder still
whether they are in fact the " Wise Men of Greece," commonly so called.
Some expressions, which seem of a modern character, have led to a
suspicion that the Tragedy is not really the work of ^Eschylus. This
suspicion must, however, immediately vanish, if due attention be paid
to the stern simplicity of the plot, which most unquestionably shows the
hand of the old tragedian, to say nothing of the affinity of treatment which
exists between this play and the Perses. In the translation liberties
have been taken with the lyric metres, but in the opening speech and
the speech of the spectre, the Iambic trimeters and Trochaic tetrameters
have been carefully preserved.]
ARGUMENT.
Artaxerxes, tyrant of the Echinades, and a great patron of tragic art, offers the
writer of the best Tragedy his weight in gold, and appoints the seven Sages of Greece
arbiters to decide the merits of competitors. After fifty years they arrive at a decision,
but the Tragedy proves unsuccessful. Artaxerxes, indignant, putstheseven Sages to
death, and then, in a fit of remorse, kills himself. The scene takes place in a portico,
•bere the seven Sages are resting from iheir labjurs.
CTjararlrrs'.
the seven wise men. chorus of MALCONTENTS.
spectre. arta xerxes. messenger.
the wisest of the wise men.
Thus forty thousand tragedies have we read through,
And prayed to BACcnus, patron of the tragic art.
Long was our task and weary, but we now shall reap
The mighty praise which labour well bestowed deserves.
When we began to read we were but little boys,
But we went reading on till hair and beard grew white,
And now we look back on our tedious lengthy life,
And only see a vista of long tragedies.
To him that wrote the best of this tremendous lot,
Great Artaxerxes hath allowed his weight in gold,
Appointing us to be the sapient arbiters.
We have decided after reading fifty years,
And now hard by the wondrous tragedy is played,
Of that bless'd wight who gained his weight in solid gold.
But hark, we hear the murmurings are gathering loud
Of that vile herd whose tragedies bestrew the earth.
chorus of malcontents.
I am neglected,
I am rejected,
Long I suspected
This was a do.
With my head crazine,
With my heart blazing,
Sure 1 '11 be raising
A philaloo.
Ate rides on «bee)s of fire,
Makes my arteries boil with ire;
Never again my proud head shall I Tear,
Till my thirsty ears the glad news hear
That the tragedy is dammed.
Then will my heart be crammed
With joy transcendant, nigh as
Great as Apollo's when be played Marsvas.
the wisest of the wise men.
Oh ! what's this horrid form that makes our blood to freeze,
Our skins are chill'd, our hair is standing up-an-end.
spectre
Know that I be,
'he defunct tragedie.
Me best you decided.
But just now I die did.
Such a "row " yeu never heard, and much I hope you never will.
Some like snakes were hissing, while some others had a mighty cough :
Some cried " Trash ! " and some cried " Rubbish ! " others lovdlj
yell'd "Off, off !"
Artaxerxes then came forward. To the countless mob he told
How he gave the man who made the Tragedy his weight in gold.
Then the mob roar'd more than ever, and a fellow strong and stoat,
Hallooed in a voice of thunder, " That, old boy, is your look-out! "
Thus, thus, I died
In the midst of my pride.
the wisest op the wise men.
Oh horrid fate, who can our pain assuage
And here comes Artaxerxes in a rage.
artaxerxes.
Yes, you are wise men,
Giving my prize, men,
To him who has written, as surely you'll own,
The very worst Tragedy ever was known.
Oh, nought could be worse,
It was not worth a curse.
the wisest of the wise men.
We feel, we feel, to anguish we are brought.
ARTAXERXES.
Feel it ! By father Zeus and so you ought.
What ho ! my guards—you chaps in waiting there.
Conduct these sapient men to-you know where.
chorus of malcontents.
We are elated,
Thus it was tated.
Hail mighty Bacchus, Semkle's boy !
Let us exult in our terrible joy.
messenger.
Oh, I have very horrid news indeed to tell !
To yonder mount the guards the Seven Sages led
And in quick order struck oft' all their seven heads,
Forgiving Artaxerxes' prize unworthily.
Then dark remorse invaded Artaxerxes' heart.
And in the sea he flung himself, and there was drown'i
Now, he who is the bearer of unhappy news,
Is most unfit to breathe—so thus I kill myself.
chorus of malcontents.
We are elated, &c. &c.
WRITE ME DOWN, &c.
Colonel Sibthokp, on a late occasion observed, in his place
in Parliament, quoting Shakspeare, that the " galled jade might
w'raee, but that his (Col. Sibthorp's) withers were unwrung."
With what animal did the honourable and gallant Colonel
identify himself !