THE FROGS 289
Bacchus (rowing in great misery^. How I 'm raaul'd, How I 'lu gall'd ; Worn and mangled to a mash — There they go I " Koasli^ hoash ! " Frogs. Brekeke-kesh, koash, koash. so
Bacchus. Oh, beshrew,
All your crew ; You don't consider how I smart. Frogs. Now for a sample of the Art !
Brekeke-kesh, koash, koash. 55
Bacchus. I wish you hang'd, with all my heart.
Have you nothing else to say ? " Brekeke-kesh, koash " all day! Frogs. We 've a right, we 've a right ;
And we croak at ye for spite. 60
We 've a right, we 've a right ; Day and night, day and night ; Night and day. Still to creak and croak away. Phoebus and eΛ'ery Grace es
Admire and approve of the croaking race : And the egregious guttural notes
That are gargled and warbled in their lyrical throats. In reproof of your scorn Mighty Pan nods his horn ; 70
Beating time to the rhyme With his hoof, with his hoof. Persisting in our plan We proceed as we began, Breke-kesh, breke-kesh, koash, koash. Bacchus. Oh, the Frogs, consume and rot 'em, vs I 've a blister on my bottom. Hold your tongues, you tuneful creatures.
