Page:Frogs (Murray 1912).djvu/61

Rh

O Lord!

It hurts!

"Poseidon ruler free

Of cliffs Aegean and the grey salt sea."

Now, by Demeter, it's beyond my powers

To tell which one of you's a god!—Come in;

We'll ask my master. He and Persephassa

Will easily know you, being gods themselves.

Most wisely said. Indeed I could have wished

You'd thought of that before you had me swished.

[''They all go into the house. The, left alone on the stage, turns towards the audience''.

Draw near, O Muse, to the spell of my song,

Set foot in the sanctified place,

And see thy faithful Athenians throng,

To whom the myriad arts belong,

The myriad marks of grace,

Greater than Cleophon's own,

On whose lips, with bilingual moan,

A swallow from Thrace

Has taken his place

And chirps in blood-curdling tone