There is an interval of choral song, with a political bearing, during which we are to suppose that Bacchus is being entertained at the infernal court, while Xanthias improves his acquaintance with Æacus in the servants’ hall, or whatever might be the equivalent in Pluto’s establishment. The conversation between the two is highly confidential. “Your master seems quite the gentleman,” says Æacus. “Oh! quite,” says Xanthias”--he does nothing but game and drink.” They find that life “below stairs” is very much the same in Tartarus as it is in the upper regions; and both agree that what they enjoy most is listening at the door, and discussing their masters’ secrets with their own friends afterwards. While the two retainers are engaged in this interesting conversation, a noise outside attracts the new-comer’s attention. “Oh,” says Æacus, “it’s only Æschylus and Euripides quarrelling. There’s a tremendous rivalry going on just now among these dead people.” He explains to his guest that special rank and precedence, with a seat at the royal table, is accorded in the Shades to the artist or professor who stands first in his own line. Æschylus had held the chair of tragedy until Euripides appeared below: but now this latter has made a party in his own favour--“chiefly of rogues and vagabonds”--and has laid claim to the chair. Æschylus has his friends among the respectable men; but respectable men are as scarce in the Shades--“as they are in this present company,” observes Æacus, with a wave of his hand towards the audience.[49] So Pluto (who appears a very affable and good-humoured monarch) has determined that there shall be a public trial and discussion of their respective merits. Sophocles has put in no claim on his own behalf. The tribute which his brother dramatist here pays him is very graceful: “The first moment that he came, he went up straight to Æschylus and saluted him, and kissed his cheek, and took his hand quite kindly, and Æschylus edged a little from his seat, to give him room.” But--if Euripides is elected against Æschylus, Sophocles will challenge his right. The difficulty is to find competent judges, Æschylus has declined to leave the decision to the Athenians--he has no confidence in their honesty or their taste. [A bold stroke of personal satire, we might think, from a candidate for the dramatic crown of the festival, as against those whose verdict he was awaiting; the author was perhaps still smarting (as Brunck suggests) from the reception his “Clouds” had met with: but he knew his public--it was just the thing an Athenian audience would enjoy.] It had been already proposed to get Bacchus, as the great patron of the drama, to sit as judge in this controversy, so that his present visit has been most opportune; and whichever of the rival poets he places first, Pluto promises to allow his guest to take back to earth with him.