. Outing. and the fig-ripides had their first nights—or days, ure of Silenus whose bowed shouldersperhaps, for I believe they were mostly have so long been the support of dra-matinees—and Sophocles, too, and here matic art. The marble floor—they 43° THE OUTING MAGAZINE called it the Orchestra then—is nolonger perfect, and grass and flowerspush their way up between the reliefs are headless and scarred, butthe slabs are still the same the chorustrod, the place is still a theater, and onehas but to close his eyes a little to fill itwith forms vague and shadowy indeed,as ghosts are likel
. Outing. and the fig-ripides had their first nights—or days, ure of Silenus whose bowed shouldersperhaps, for I believe they were mostly have so long been the support of dra-matinees—and Sophocles, too, and here matic art. The marble floor—they 43° THE OUTING MAGAZINE called it the Orchestra then—is nolonger perfect, and grass and flowerspush their way up between the reliefs are headless and scarred, butthe slabs are still the same the chorustrod, the place is still a theater, and onehas but to close his eyes a little to fill itwith forms vague and shadowy indeed,as ghosts are likely to be but realitiesnone the less. Our party had moved suddenly announced that the show wasover and that everybody but us hadgone long ago. If I had lived in that elder day Ishould have gone mainly to the plays ofAristophanes. They were gay and fullof good things, and they were rare, too,and poetic, even though they were notalways more than skin deep. That wasdeep enough for some of his contempo-. WE STOOD ON THE BEMA AND TOOK TURNS ADDRESSING THE MULTITUDE. along now, to other things, and Lauraand I lingered for the play. It was much better than our theatersat home. There was no dazzle oflights, no close air or smell of gas, andthere was plenty of room for one toput his feet. However, the play I didnot care for so much as the chorus. Theacting was heavy and stilted, I thought,and declamatory. I was inclined tothrow a piece of the theater at the lead-ing man. But the chorus—why, the verywords Greek Chorus have somethingin them that rouses and thrills, and Iknow, now, the reason why. In move-ment, in voice, in costume it was purepoetry. I would have applied for a po-sition in the chorus, myself, hut Laura raries. Deep enough for the popocratCleon who tried to deprive Aristophanesof his citizenship, in revenge. Aristophanes wrote a play that actedlike a mustard plaster on Cleon. It-made him howl and caper and sweat andbring libel suits. Whereupon Aristoph-anes wrote a
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
