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And suppose you have done the reverse,

And have had upon good strong men the effect of making them weaker and worse,

What, do you say, should your recompense be?

The gallows! You needn't ask him.

Well, think what they were when he had them from me! Good six-footers, solid of limb,

Well-born, well-bred, not ready to fly from obeying their country's call,

Nor in latter-day fashion to loiter and lie, and keep their consciences small;

Their life was in shafts of ash and of elm, in bright plumes fluttering wide,

In lance and greaves and corslet and helm, and hearts of seven-fold hide!

Oh, now he's begun and will probably run a whole armourer's shop on my head!

(To ) Stop! How was it due in especial to you, if they were so very—well-bred?

Come, answer him, Aeschylus! Don't be so hot, or smoulder in silent disdain.

By a tragedy 'brimming with Ares!'