VII. When Peter heard of his promotion, His eyes grew like two stars for bliss. There was a bow of sleek devotion Engendering in his back; each motion Seemed a Lord's shoe to kiss. VIII. He hired a house, bought plate, and made A genteel drive up to his door, With sifted gravel neatly laid, As if defying all who said Peter was ever poor. IX. But a disease soon struck into - The very life and soul of Peter. Dug better-none a heartier eater: X. And yet a strange and horrid curse XI. Peter was dull-(he was at first XII. No one could read his books-no mortal, But a few natural friends, would hear him; The parson came not near his portal; His state was like that of the immortal Described by Swift-no man could bear him. XIII. His sister, wife, and children yawned, With a long, slow, and drear ennui All human patience far beyond; Their hopes of heaven each would have pawned Anywhere else to be. XIV. But in his verse and in his prose XV. A printer's boy, folding those pages, Like those famed Seven who slept three ages. As opiates, were the same applied. XVI. Even the Reviewers who were hired To dream of what they should be doing. XVII. And worse and worse the drowsy curse Creeping like cold through all things near; XVIII. His servant-maids and dogs grew dull; The woods and lakes so beautiful Of dim stupidity were full; All grew dull as Peter's self. XIX. The earth under his feet, the springs Were dead to their harmonious strife. XX. The birds and beasts within the wood, Were now a silent multitude; Love's work was left unwrought-no brood Near Peter's house took wing. XXI. And every neighbouring cottager XXII. Yet from all that charmed district went A TRAGEDY, IN TWO ACTS. TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL DORIC. "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 representations), elucidating the wonderful and appalling fortunes of the SWELLFOOT dynasty. It was evidently written by some learned Theban; and, from its characteristic dulness, apparently before the duties on the importation of Attic salt had been repealed by the Bootarchs. The tenderness with which he treats the Pigs proves him to have been a sus Baotia; possibly Epicuri de grege porcus; for, as the poet observes, "A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind." No liberty has been taken with the translation of this remarkakle 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. SCENE I.—A magnificent Temple, built of thigh-bones and death's-heads, and tiled with scalps. Over the Altar the statue of Famine, veiled; a number o ref 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 [He contemplates himself with satisfaction. Of gold and purple, and this kingly paunch The Swine. Eigh! eigh! eigh! eigh! Who, crowned with leaves devoted to the Furies Cling round this sacred shrine? Swine. Aigh! aigh! aigh! Swellf. 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? What! ye who grub Swine. Ugh! ugh! ugh! |