Choose Reform or Civil War, When through thy streets, instead of hare with dogs, ADVERTISEMENT. THIS tragedy is one of a triad, or system of three plays (an arrangement according to which the Greeks were accustomed to connect their dramatic repre. sentations) elucidating the wonderful and appalling fortunes of the Swellfoot dynasty. It was evidently written by some learned Theban; and, from its characteristic dullness, apparently before the duties on the importation of Attic salt had been repealed by the Boeotarchs. The tenderness with which he treats the Pigs proves him to have been a sus Baotia, possibly Epicuri de grege por tus; for, as the poet observes, "A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind." No liberty has been taken with the translation of this remarkable piece of antiquity, except the suppressing a seditious and blasphemous chorus of the Pigs and Bulls at the last act. The word Hoydipouse (or more properly Edipus has been rendered literally Swellfoot, without its having been conceived necessary to determine whether a swelling of the hind or the fore feet of the Swinish Monarch is particularly indicated. Should the remaining portions of this tragedy be found, entitled Swellfoot in Angaria and Charité, the translator might be tempted to give them to the reading public. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. TYRANT SWELLFOOT, King of Thebes. MAMMON, Arch-Priest of Famine. PYRGANAX, DAKRY, LAOCTONOS, The GADFLY. The LEECH. The MINOTAUR. MOSES, the Sow-geiuri CHORUS of the Swinish Multitude. SCENE-Thebes. ACT I. SCENE I.-A magnificent Temple, built of thigh-bones and death'sheads, and tiled with scalps. Over the altar the statue of Famine, veiled; a number of Boars, Sows, and Sucking Pigs, crowned with thistle, shamrock, and oak, sitting on the steps, and clinging round the altar of the Temple. Enter SWELLFOOT, in his royal robes, without perceiving the Pigs. Swellfoot. THOU supreme Goddess, by whose power divine These graceful limbs are clothed in proud array [He contemplates himself with satisfaction. The Swine. Eigh! eigh! eigh! eigh! Who, crowned with leaves devoted to the Furies, Cling round this sacred shrine? Swine. Aigh! aigh! aigh! Swellfoot. What! ye that are The very beasts that, offered at her altar With blood and groans, salt-cake and fat and inwards, Ever propitiate her reluctant will When taxes are withheld? Swine. Ugh! ugh! ugh! Swellfoot. What! ye who grub With filthy snouts my red potatoes up In Allen's rushy Bog? who eat the oats THE SWINE-SEMICHORUS I. SEMICHORUS II. If 'twere your kingly will Us wretched Swine to kill, What should we yield to thee? Swellfoot. Why, skin and bones, and some few hairs for mortar. CHORUS OF SWINE. I have heard your Laureate sing Under your mighty ancestors, we Pigs Were blessed as nightingales on myrtle sprigs, But now our sties are fallen in, we catch The murrain and the mange, the scab and itch; FIRST SOW. My Pigs, 'tis in vain to tug! SECOND SOw. I could almost eat my litter! FIRST PIG. I suck, but no milk will come from the dug. SECOND PIG. Our skin and our bones would be bitter. THE BOARS. We fight for this rag of greasy rug, Though a trough of wash would be fitter. SEMICHORUS. Happier Swine were they than we, Drowned in the Gadarean sea !— I wish that Pity would drive out the devils To bind your mortar with, or fill our colons And sties well thatched; besides, it is the law! Guard. Enter a GUARD. Your sacred Majesty? Swellfoot. Call in the Jews, Solomon the court porkman, Moses the sow-gelder, and Zephaniah the hog-butcher. Guard. They are in waiting, sire. Enter SOLOMON, MOSES, and ZEPHANIAH. Swellfoot. Out with your knife, old Moses, and spay those Sows [The Pigs run about in consternation. That load the earth with Pigs; cut close and deep. Nor prostitution, nor our own example, This was the art which the Arch-priest of Famine Cut close and deep, good Moses. Moses. Keep the Boars quiet, else- Let your Majesty Zephaniah, cut That fat Hog's throat; the brute seems overfed. He has not half an inch of wholesome fat Upon his carious ribs. Swellfoot. 'Tis all the same ; He'll serve instead of riot-money when Our murmuring troops bivouaque in Thebes streets; And January winds, after a day Of butchering, will make them relish carrion, Now, Solomon, I'll sell you in a lump The whole kit of them. Solomon. I could not give- Why, your Majesty, Kill them out of the way; That shall be price enough. And let me hear Their everlasting grunts and whines no more! [Exeunt, driving in the Swine. Enter MAMMON, the Arch-Priest; and PYRGANAX, Chief of the Council of Wizards. Pyrganax. The future looks as black as death; a cloud, The troops grow mutinous-the revenue fails- Mammon. Why, what's the matter, my dear fellow, now? Do the troops mutiny?-decimate some regiments; Does money fail ?—come to my mint-coin paper, Till gold be at a discount, and, ashamed To show his bilious face, go purge himself, In emulation of her vestal whiteness. Pyrganax. Oh would that this were all! The oracle Mammon. Why, it was I who spoke that oracle; And whether I was dead-drunk or inspired I cannot well remember-nor, in truth, The oracle itself. Pyrganax. The words went thus: "Boeotia, choose reform or civil war, When through the streets, instead of hare with dogs, A Consort-Queen shall hunt a King with Hogs, Riding upon the Ionian Minotaur." Mammon. Now, if the oracle had ne'er foretold Or not; and so it must now that it has ; 'Tis the same thing. If you but knew as much Pyrganax. You Arch-priests Believe in nothing; if you were to dream Of a particular number in the lottery, You would not buy the ticket. Mammon. Yet our tickets Are seldom blanks. But what steps have you taken? For prophecies, when once they get abroad, Like liars who tell the truth to serve their ends, Or hypocrites who, from assuming virtue, Do the same actions that the virtuous do, And still how popular the tale is here; And these dull Swine of Thebes boast their descent And everything relating to a bull Is popular and respectable in Thebes : Their arms are seven bulls in a field gules; They think their strength consists in eating beef. If Queen Iona Pyrganax. I have taken good care That shall not be. I struck the crust o' the earth |