SCENE: A wild, desolate tract
of open country; broken rocks and brushwood occupy
the centre of the stage.
Euelpides (to his jay)[1]
Do you think I should walk straight for yon tree?
f1 Euelpides is holding a jay and
Pisthetaerus a crow; they are the guides who are to
lead them to the kingdom of the birds.
Pisthetaerus (to his crow)
Cursed beast, what are you croaking to me?...to retrace
my steps?
Euelpides
Why, you wretch, we are wandering at random, we are
exerting
ourselves only to return to the same spot; ’tis
labour lost.
Pisthetaerus
To think that I should trust to this crow, which has
made me cover
more than a thousand furlongs!
Euelpides
And that I to this jay, which has torn every nail
from my fingers!
Pisthetaerus
If only I knew where we were….
Euelpides
Could you find your country again from here?
Pisthetaerus
No, I feel quite sure I could not, any more than could
Execestides1 find his.
f1 A stranger who wanted to pass
as an Athenian, although coming originally for a far-away
barbarian country.
Euelpides
Oh dear! oh dear!
Pisthetaerus
Aye, aye, my friend, ’tis indeed the road of
“oh dears” we are
following.
Euelpides That Philocrates,
the bird-seller, played us a scurvy trick, when he
pretended these two guides could help us to find Tereus,[1]
the Epops, who is a bird, without being born of one.
He has indeed sold us this jay, a true son of Tharelides,[2]
for an obolus, and this crow for three, but what can
they do? Why, nothing whatever but bite and
scratch! —What’s the matter with you
then, that you keep opening your beak? Do you
want us to fling ourselves headlong down these rocks?
There is no road that way.
f1 A king of Thrace, a son of Ares,
who married Procne, the daughter of Pandion, King
of Athens, whom he had assisted against the Megarians.
He violated his sister-in-law, Philomela, and then
cut out her tongue; she nevertheless managed to convey
to her sister how she had been treated. They
both agreed to kill Itys, whom Procne had borne to
Tereus, and dished up the limbs of his own son to the
father; at the end of the meal Philomela appeared
and threw the child’s head upon the table.
Tereus rushed with drawn sword upon the princesses,
but all the actors in this terrible scene were metamorph[o]sed.
Tereus became an Epops (hoopoe), Procne a swallow,
Philomela a nightingale, and Itys a goldfinch.
According to Anacreon and Apollodorus it was Procne
who became the nightingale and Philomela the swallow,
and this is the version of the tradition followed
by Aristophanes. f2 An Athenian who had some resemblance
to a jay—so says the scholiast, at any
rate.
Pisthetaerus
Not even the vestige of a track in any direction.
Euelpides
And what does the crow say about the road to follow?
Pisthetaerus
By Zeus, it no longer croaks the same thing it did.
Euelpides
And which way does it tell us to go now?
Pisthetaerus
It says that, by dint of gnawing, it will devour my
fingers.
Euelpides What misfortune is
ours! we strain every nerve to get to the birds,[1]
do everything we can to that end, and we cannot find
our way! Yes, spectators, our madness is quite
different from that of Sacas. He is not a citizen,
and would fain be one at any cost; we, on the contrary,
born of an honourable tribe and family and living in
the midst of our fellow-citizens, we have fled from
our country as hard as ever we could go. ’Tis
not that we hate it; we recognize it to be great and
rich, likewise that everyone has the right to ruin
himself; but the crickets only chirrup among the fig-trees
for a month or two, whereas the Athenians spend their
whole lives in chanting forth judgments from their
law-courts.[2] That is why we started off with a basket,
a stew-pot and some myrtle boughs3 and have come
to seek a quiet country in which to settle. We
are going to Tereus, the Epops, to learn from him,
whether, in his aerial flights, he has noticed some
town of this kind.
f1 Literally, ‘to go to the
crows,’ a proverbial expression equivalent to
our ‘going to the devil.’ f2 They leave
Athens because of their hatred of lawsuits and informers;
this is the especial failing of the Athenians satirized
in ‘The Wasps.’ f3 Myrtle boughs were
used in sacrifices, and the founding of every colony
was started by a sacrifice.
Pisthetaerus
Here! look!
Euelpides
What’s the matter?
Pisthetaerus
Why, the crow has been pointing me to something up
there for some
time now.
Euelpides
And the jay is also opening its beak and craning its
neck to show
me I know not what. Clearly, there are some
birds about here.
We shall soon know, if we kick up a noise to start
them.
Pisthetaerus
Do you know what to do? Knock your leg against
this rock.
Euelpides
And you your head to double the noise.
Pisthetaerus
Well then use a stone instead; take one and hammer
with it.
Euelpides
Good idea! Ho there, within! Slave! slave!
Pisthetaerus
What’s that, friend! You say, “slave,”
to summon Epops! It would
be much better to shout, “Epops, Epops!”
Euelpides
Well then, Epops! Must I knock again? Epops!
Trochilus
Who’s there? Who calls my master?
Pisthetaerus
Apollo the Deliverer! what an enormous beak![1]
f1 The actors wore masks made to
resemble the birds they were supposed to represent.
Trochilus
Good god! they are bird-catchers.
Euelpides
The mere sight of him petrifies me with terror.
What a horrible monster.
Trochilus
Woe to you!
Euelpides
But we are not men.
Trochilus
What are you, then?
Euelpides
I am the Fearling, an African bird.
Trochilus
You talk nonsense.
Euelpides
Well, then, just ask it of my feet.[1]
f1 Fear had had disastrous effects
upon Euelpides’ internal economy, and this
his feet evidenced.
Trochilus
And this other one, what bird is it?
Pisthetaerus
I? I am a Cackling,[1] from the land of the
pheasants.
f1 The same mishap had occurred to Pisthetaerus.
Euelpides
But you yourself, in the name of the gods! what animal
are you?
Trochilus
Why, I am a slave-bird.
Euelpides
Why, have you been conquered by a cock?
Trochilus
No, but when my master was turned into a peewit, he
begged me to
become a bird too, to follow and to serve him.
Euelpides
Does a bird need a servant, then?
Trochilus ’Tis no doubt
because he was a man. At times he wants to eat
a dish of loach from Phalerum; I seize my dish and
fly to fetch him some. Again he wants some pea-soup;
I seize a ladle and a pot and run to get it.
Euelpides
This is, then, truly a running-bird.[1] Come, Trochilus,
do us the
kindness to call your master.
f1 The Greek word for a wren is
derived from the same root as ‘to run.’
Trochilus
Why, he has just fallen asleep after a feed of myrtle-berries
and a few grubs.
Euelpides
Never mind; wake him up.
Trochilus
I an certain he will be angry. However, I will
wake him to please
you.
Pisthetaerus
You cursed brute! why, I am almost dead with terror!
Euelpides
Oh! my god! ’twas sheer fear that made me lose
my jay.
Pisthetaerus
Ah! you great coward! were you so frightened that
you let go your jay?
Euelpides
And did you not lose your crow, when you fell sprawling
on the ground?
Pray tell me that.
Pisthetaerus
No, no.
Euelpides
Where is it, then?
Pisthetaerus
It has flown away.
Euelpides
Then you did not let it go? Oh! you brave fellow!
Epops
Open the forest,[1] that I may go out!
f1 No doubt there was some scenery
to represent a forest. Besides, there is a pun
intended. The words answering for ‘forests’
and ‘door’ in Greek only differ slightly
in sound.
Euelpides
By Heracles! what a creature! what plumage! What
means this triple crest?
Epops
Who wants me?
Euelpides
The twelve great gods have used you ill, meseems.
Epops
Are you chaffing me about my feathers? I have
been a man, strangers.
Euelpides
’Tis not you we are jeering at.
Epops
At what, then?
Euelpides
Why, ’tis your beak that looks so odd to us.
Epops
This is how Sophocles outrages me in his tragedies.
Know, I once
was Tereus.[1]
f1 Sophocles had written a tragedy
about Tereus, in which, no doubt, the king finally
appears as a hoopoe.
Euelpides
You were Tereus, and what are you now? a bird or a
peacock?[1]
f1ne would expect the question
to be “bird or man.” —Are you
a peacock? The hoopoe resembles the peacock inasmuch
as both have crests.
Epops
I am a bird.
Euelpides
Then where are your feathers? For I don’t
see them.
Epops
They have fallen off.
Euelpides
Through illness?
Epops
No. All birds moult their feathers, you know,
every winter,
and others grow in their place. But tell me,
who are you?
Euelpides
We? We are mortals.
Epops
From what country?
Euelpides
From the land of the beautiful galleys.[1]
f1 Athens.
Epops
Are you dicasts?[1]
f1 The Athenians were madly addicted
to lawsuits. (See ‘The Wasps.’)
Euelpides
No, if anything, we are anti-dicasts.
Epops
Is that kind of seed sown among you?[1]
f1 As much as to say, ‘Then
you have such things as anti-dicasts?’ And
Euelpides practically replaces, ‘Very few.’
Euelpides
You have to look hard to find even a little in our
fields.
Epops
What brings you here?
Euelpides
We wish to pay you a visit.
Epops
What for?
Euelpides Because you formerly
were a man, like we are, formerly you had debts, as
we have, formerly you did not want to pay them, like
ourselves; furthermore, being turned into a bird, you
have when flying seen all lands and seas. Thus
you have all human knowledge as well as that of birds.
And hence we have come to you to beg you to direct
us to some cosy town, in which one can repose as if
on thick coverlets.
Epops
And are you looking for a greater city than Athens?
Euelpides
No, not a greater, but one more pleasant to dwell
in.
Epops
Then you are looking for an aristocratic country.
Euelpides
I? Not at all! I hold the son of Scellias
in horror.[1]
f1 His name was Aristocrates; he
was a general and commanded a fleet sent in aid of
Corcyra.
Epops
But, after all, what sort of city would please you
best?
Euelpides A place where the
following would be the most important business transacted.
—Some friend would come knocking at the
door quite early in the morning saying, “By
Olympian Zeus, be at my house early, as soon as you
have bathed, and bring your children too. I am
giving a nuptial feast, so don’t fail, or else
don’t cross my threshold when I am in distress.”
Epops
Ah! that’s what may be called being fond of
hardships! And what say you?
Pisthetaerus
My tastes are similar.
Epops
And they are?
Pisthetaerus I want a town where
the father of a handsome lad will stop in the street
and say to me reproachfully as if I had failed him,
“Ah! Is this well done, Stilbonides!
You met my son coming from the bath after the gymnasium
and you neither spoke to him, nor embraced him, nor
took him with you, nor ever once twitched his parts.
Would anyone call you an old friend of mine?”
Epops
Ah! wag, I see you are fond of suffering. But
there is a city of
delights, such as you want. ’Tis on the
Red Sea.
Euelpides Oh, no. Not
a sea-port, where some fine morning the Salaminian1
galley can appear, bringing a writ-server along.
Have you no Greek town you can propose to us?
f1 The State galley, which carried
the officials of the Athenian republic to their several
departments and brought back those whose time had
expired; it was this galley that was sent to Sicily
to fetch back Alcibiades, who was accused of sacrilege.
Epops
Why not choose Lepreum in Elis for your settlement?
Euelpides
By Zeus! I could not look at Lepreum without
disgust, because of
Melanthius.[1]
f1 A tragic poet, who was a leper;
there is a play, of course, on the word Lepreum.
Epops
Then, again, there is the Opuntian, where you could
live.
Euelpides
I would not be Opuntian1 for a talent. But
come, what is it like
to live with the birds? You should know pretty
well.
f1 An allusion to Opuntius, who was one-eyed.
Epops
Why, ’tis not a disagreeable life. In
the first place, one has no purse.
Euelpides
That does away with much roguery.
Epops
For food the gardens yield us white sesame, myrtle-berries,
poppies and mint.
Euelpides
Why, ’tis the life of the newly-wed indeed.[1]
f1 The newly-married ate a sesame-cake,
decorated with garlands of myrtle, poppies and mint.
Pisthetaerus
Ha! I am beginning to see a great plan, which
will transfer the
supreme power to the birds, if you will but take my
advice.
Epops
Take your advice? In what way?
Pisthetaerus In what way?
Well, firstly, do not fly in all directions with open
beak; it is not dignified. Among us, when we
see a thoughtless man, we ask, “What sort of
bird is this?” and Teleas answers, “’Tis
a man who has no brain, a bird that has lost his head,
a creature you cannot catch, for it never remains
in any one place.”
Epops
By Zeus himself! your jest hits the mark. What
then is to be done?
Pisthetaerus
Found a city.
Epops
We birds? But what sort of city should we build?
Pisthetaerus
Oh, really, really! ’tis spoken like a fool!
Look down.
Epops
I am looking.
Pisthetaerus
Now look upwards.
Epops
I am looking.
Pisthetaerus
Turn your head round.
Epops
Ah! ’twill be pleasant for me, if I end in twisting
my neck!
Pisthetaerus
What have you seen?
Epops
The clouds and the sky.
Pisthetaerus
Very well! is not this the pole of the birds then?
Epops
How their pole?
Pisthetaerus Or, if you like
it, the land. And since it turns and passes through
the whole universe, it is called, ’pole.’[1]
If you build and fortify it, you will turn your pole
into a fortified city.[2] In this way you will reign
over mankind as you do over the grasshoppers and cause
the gods to die of rabid hunger
f1 From [the word meaning] ‘to
turn.’ f2 The Greek words for ‘pole’
and ‘city’ only differ by a single letter.
Epops
How so?
Pisthetaerus The air is ’twixt
earth and heaven. When we want to go to Delphi,
we ask the Boeotians1 for leave of passage; in the
same way, when men sacrifice to the gods, unless the
latter pay you tribute, you exercise the right of
every nation towards strangers and don’t allow
the smoke of the sacrifices to pass through your city
and territory.
f1 Boeotia separated Attica from Phocis.
Epops By earth! by snares! by
network![1] I never heard of anything more cleverly
conceived; and, if the other birds approve, I am going
to build the city along with you.
f1 He swears by the powers that are to him dreadful.
Pisthetaerus
Who will explain the matter to them?
Epops
You must yourself. Before I came they were quite
ignorant, but
since I have lived with them I have taught them to
speak.
Pisthetaerus
But how can they be gathered together?
Epops
Easily. I will hasten down to the coppice to
waken my dear Procne![1]
as soon as they hear our voices, they will come to
us hot wing.
f1 As already stated, according
to the legend accepted by Aristophanes, it was Procne
who was turned into the nightengale.
Pisthetaerus
My dear bird, lose no time, I beg. Fly at once
into the coppice
and awaken Procne.
Epops Chase off drowsy sleep,
dear companion. Let the sacred hymn gush from
thy divine throat in melodious strains; roll forth
in soft cadence your refreshing melodies to bewail
the fate of Itys,[1] which has been the cause of so
many tears to us both. Your pure notes rise
through the thick leaves of the yew-tree right up to
the throne of Zeus, where Phoebus listens to you,
Phoebus with his golden hair. And his ivory lyre
responds to your plaintive accents; he gathers the
choir of the gods and from their immortal lips rushes
a sacred chant of blessed voices. (The flute
is played behind the scene.)
f1 The son of Tereus and Procne.
Pisthetaerus
Oh! by Zeus! what a throat that little bird possesses.
He has filled
the whole coppice with honey-sweet melody!
Euelpides
Hush!
Pisthetaerus
What’s the matter?
Euelpides
Will you keep silence?
Pisthetaerus
What for?
Euelpides
Epops is going to sing again.
Epops (in the coppice)
Epopoi poi popoi, epopoi, popoi, here, here, quick,
quick, quick, my comrades in the air; all you who
pillage the fertile lands of the husbandmen, the numberless
tribes who gather and devour the barley seeds, the
swift flying race who sing so sweetly. And you
whose gentle twitter resounds through the fields with
the little cry of tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio,
tio; and you who hop about the branches of the ivy
in the gardens; the mountain birds, who feed on the
wild olive berries or the arbutus, hurry to come at
my call, trioto, trioto, totobrix; you also, who snap
up the sharp-stinging gnats in the marshy vales, and
you who dwell in the fine plain of Marathon, all damp
with dew, and you, the francolin with speckled wings;
you too, the halcyons, who flit over the swelling
waves of the sea, come hither to hear the tidings;
let all the tribes of long-necked birds assemble here;
know that a clever old man has come to us, bringing
an entirely new idea and proposing great reforms.
Let all come to the debate here, here, here, here.
Torotorotorotorotix, kikkobau, kikkobau, torotorotorotorolililix.
Pisthetaerus
Can you see any bird?
Euelpides
By Phoebus, no! and yet I am straining my eyesight
to scan the sky.
Pisthetaerus
‘Twas really not worth Epops’ while to
go and bury himself in the
thicket like a plover when a-hatching.
PHOENICOPTERUS
Torotina, torotina.
Pisthetaerus
Hold, friend, here is another bird.
Euelpides
I’ faith, yes, ’tis a bird, but of what
kind? Isn’t it a peacock?
Pisthetaerus
Epops will tell us. What is this bird?
Epops
’Tis not one of those you are used to seeing;
’tis a bird from
the marshes.
Pisthetaerus
Oh! oh! but he is very handsome with his wings as
crimson as flame.
Epops
Undoubtedly; indeed he is called flamingo.[1]
f1 An African bird, that comes to
the southern countries of Europe, to Greece, Italy,
and Spain; it is even seen in Provence.
Euelpides
Hi! I say! You!
Pisthetaerus
What are you shouting for?
Euelpides
Why, here’s another bird.
Pisthetaerus
Aye, indeed; ’tis a foreign bird too.
What is this bird from beyond
the mountains with a look as solemn as it is stupid?
Epops
He is called the Mede.[1]
f1 Aristophanes amusingly mixes
up real birds with people and individuals, whom he
represents in the form of birds; he is personifying
the Medians here.
Pisthetaerus
The Mede! But, by Heracles, how, if a Mede, has
he flown here
without a camel?
Euelpides
Here’s another bird with a crest.
Pisthetaerus
Ah! that’s curious. I say, Epops, you
are not the only one of your
kind then?
Epops
This bird is the son of Philocles, who is the son
of Epops;[1] so
that, you see, I am his grandfather; just as one might
say,
Hipponicus,[2] the son of Callias, who is the son
of Hipponicus.
f1 Philocles, a tragic poet, had
written a tragedy on Tereus, which was simply a plagiarism
of the play of the same name by Sophocles. Philocles
is the son of Epops, because he got his inspiration
from Sophocles’ Tereus, and at the same time
is father to Epops, since he himself produced another
Tereus. f2 This Hipponicus is probably the orator
whose ears Alcibiades boxed to gain a bet; he was
a descendant of Callias, who was famous for his hatred
of Pisistratus.
Pisthetaerus
Then this bird is Callias! Why, what a lot of
his feathers he
has lost![1]
f1 This Callias, who must not be
confounded with the foe of Pisistratus, had ruined
himself.
Epops
That’s because he is honest; so the informers
set upon him and the
women too pluck out his feathers.
Pisthetaerus
By Posidon, do you see that many-coloured bird?
What is his name?
Epops
This one? ’Tis the glutton.
Pisthetaerus Is there another
glutton besides Cleonymus? But why, if he is
Cleonymus, has he not thrown away his crest?[1] But
what is the meaning of all these crests? Have
these birds come to contend for the double stadium
prize?[2]
f1 Cleonymus had cast away his shield;
he was as great a glutton as he was a coward. f2
A race in which the track had to be circled twice.
Epops
They are like the Carians, who cling to the crests
of their
mountains for greater safety.[1]
f1 A people of Asia Minor; when
pursued by the Ionians they took refuge in the mountains.
Pisthetaerus
Oh, Posidon! do you see what swarms of birds are gathering
here?
Euelpides
By Phoebus! what a cloud! The entrance to the
stage is no longer
visible, so closely do they fly together.
Pisthetaerus
Here is the partridge.
Euelpides
Faith! there is the francolin.
Pisthetaerus
There is the poachard.
Euelpides
Here is the kingfisher. And over yonder?
Epops
’Tis the barber.
Euelpides
What? a bird a barber?
Pisthetaerus
Why, Sporgilus is one.[1] Here comes the owl.
f1 An Athenian barber.
Euelpides
And who is it brings an owl to Athens?[1]
f1 The owl was dedicated to Athene,
and being respected at Athens, it had greatly multiplied.
Hence the proverb, ‘taking owls to Athens,’
similar to our English ‘taking coals to Newcastle.’
Pisthetaerus Here is the magpie,
the turtle-dove, the swallow, the horned owl, the
buzzard, the pigeon, the falcon, the ring-dove, the
cuckoo, the red-foot, the red-cap, the purple-cap,
the kestrel, the diver, the ousel, the osprey, the
woodpecker.
Euelpides Oh! oh! what a lot
of birds! what a quantity of blackbirds! how they
scold, how they come rushing up! What a noise!
what a noise! Can they be bearing us ill-will?
Oh! there! there! they are opening their beaks and
staring at us.
Pisthetaerus
Why, so they are.
CHORUS
Popopopopopopopoi. Where is he who called me?
Where am I to find him?
Epops
I have been waiting for you this long while!
I never fail in my
word to my friends.
CHORUS
Titititititititi. What good thing have you to
tell me?
Epops Something that concerns
our common safety, and that is just as pleasant as
it is to the purpose. Two men, who are subtle
reasoners, have come here to seek me.
CHORUS
Where? What? What are you saying?
Epops
I say, two old men have come from the abode of men
to propose a
vast and splendid scheme to us.
CHORUS
Oh! ’tis a horrible, unheard-of crime!
What are you saying?
Epops
Nay! never let my words scare you.
CHORUS
What have you done then?
Epops
I have welcomed two men, who wish to live with us.
CHORUS
And you have dared to do that!
Epops
Aye, and am delighted at having done so.
CHORUS
Where are they?
Epops
In your midst, as I am.
CHORUS Ah! ah! we are betrayed; ’tis
sacrilege! Our friend, he who picked up corn-seeds
in the same plains as ourselves, has violated our
ancient laws; he has broken the oaths that bind all
birds; he has laid a snare for me, he has handed us
over to the attacks of that impious race which, throughout
all time, has never ceased to war against us.
As for this traitorous bird, we will decide his case
later, but the two old men shall be punished forthwith;
we are going to tear them to pieces.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis all over with us.
Euelpides
You are the sole cause of all our trouble. Why
did you bring me
from down yonder?
Pisthetaerus
To have you with me.
Euelpides
Say rather to have me melt into tears.
Pisthetaerus
Go to! you are talking nonsense.
Euelpides
How so?
Pisthetaerus
How will you be able to cry when once your eyes are
pecked out?
CHORUS Io! io! forward to the attack,
throw yourselves upon the foe, spill his blood; take
to your wings and surround them on all sides.
Woe to them! let us get to work with our beaks, let
us devour them. Nothing can save them from our
wrath, neither the mountain forests, nor the clouds
that float in the sky, nor the foaming deep.
Come, peck, tear to ribbons. Where is the chief
of the cohort? Let him engage the right wing.
Euelpides
This is the fatal moment. Where shall I fly
to, unfortunate wretch
that I am?
Pisthetaerus
Stay! stop here!
Euelpides
That they may tear me to pieces?
Pisthetaerus
And how do you think to escape them?
Euelpides
I don’t know at all.
Pisthetaerus
Come, I will tell you. We must stop and fight
them. Let us arm
ourselves with these stew-pots.
Euelpides
Why with the stew-pots?
Pisthetaerus
The owl will not attack us.[1]
f1 An allusion to the Feast of Pots;
it was kept at Athens on the third day of the Anthesteria,
when all sorts of vegetables were stewed together
and offered for the dead to Bacchus and Athene.
This Feast was peculiar to Athens. —Hence
Pisthetaerus thinks that the owl will recognize they
are Athenians by seeing the stew-pots, and as he is
an Athenian bird, he will not attack them.
Euelpides
But do you see all those hooked claws?
Pisthetaerus
Seize the spit and pierce the foe on your side.
Euelpides
And how about my eyes?
Pisthetaerus
Protect them with this dish or this vinegar-pot.
Euelpides
Oh! what cleverness! what inventive genius!
You are a great general,
even greater than Nicias,[1] where stratagem is concerned.
f1 Nicias, the famous Athenian general.
—The siege of Melos in 417 B.C., or two
years previous to the production of ‘The Birds,’
had especially done him great credit. He was
joint commander of the Sicilian expedition.
CHORUS
Forward, forward, charge with your beaks! Come,
no delay. Tear,
pluck, strike, flay them, and first of all smash the
stew-pot.
Epops Oh, most cruel of all
animals, why tear these two men to pieces, why kill
them? What have they done to you? They
belong to the same tribe, to the same family as my
wife.[1]
f1 Procne, the daughter of Pandion, King of Athens.
CHORUS
Are wolves to be spared? Are they not our most
mortal foes? So let
us punish them.
Epops
If they are your foes by nature, they are your friends
in heart,
and they come here to give you useful advice.
CHORUS
Advice or a useful word from their lips, from them,
the enemies of
my forebears!
Epops The wise can often profit
by the lessons of a foe, for caution is the mother
of safety. ’Tis just such a thing as one
will not learn from a friend and which an enemy compels
you to know. To begin with, ’tis the foe
and not the friend that taught cities to build high
walls, to equip long vessels of war; and ’tis
this knowledge that protects our children, our slaves
and our wealth.
CHORUS
Well then, I agree, let us first hear them, for ’tis
best;
one can even learn something in an enemy’s school.
Pisthetaerus
Their wrath seems to cool. Draw back a little.
Epops
’Tis only justice, and you will thank me later.
CHORUS
Never have we opposed your advice up to now.
Pisthetaerus They are in a more
peaceful mood; put down your stew-pot and your two
dishes; spit in hand, doing duty for a spear, let us
mount guard inside the camp close to the pot and watch
in our arsenal closely; for we must not fly.
Euelpides
You are right. But where shall we be buried,
if we die?
Pisthetaerus
In the Ceramicus;[1] for, to get a public funeral,
we shall tell
the Strategi that we fell at Orneae,[2] fighting the
country’s foes.
f1 A space beyond the walls of Athens
which contained the gardens of the Academy and the
graves of citizens who had died for their country.
f2 A town in Western Argolis, where the Athenians
had been recently defeated. The somewhat similar
work in Greek signifies ‘birds.’
CHORUS Return to your ranks and lay
down your courage beside your wrath as the Hoplites
do. Then let us ask these men who they are, whence
they come, and with what intent. Here, Epops,
answer me.
Epops
Are you calling me? What do you want of me?
CHORUS
Who are they? From what country?
Epops
Strangers, who have come from Greece, the land of
the wise.
CHORUS
And what fate has led them hither to the land of the
birds?
Epops
Their love for you and their wish to share your kind
of life;
to dwell and remain with you always.
CHORUS
Indeed, and what are their plans?
Epops
They are wonderful, incredible, unheard of.
CHORUS Why, do they think to see
some advantage that determines them to settle here?
Are they hoping with our help to triumph over their
foes or to be useful to their friends?
Epops They speak of benefits
so great it is impossible either to describe or conceive
them; all shall be yours, all that we see here, there,
above and below us; this they vouch for.
CHORUS
Are they mad?
Epops
They are the sanest people in the world.
CHORUS
Clever men?
Epops
The slyest of foxes, cleverness its very self, men
of the world,
cunning, the cream of knowing folk.
CHORUS
Tell them to speak and speak quickly; why, as I listen
to you,
I am beside myself with delight.
Epops Here, you there, take
all these weapons and hang them up inside close to
the fire, near the figure of the god who presides there
and under his protection;[1] as for you, address the
birds, tell them why I have gathered them together.
f1 Epops is addressing the two slaves,
no doubt Xanthias and Manes, who are mentioned later
on.
Pisthetaerus Not I, by Apollo,
unless they agree with me as the little ape of an
armourer agreed with his wife, not to bite me, nor
pull me by the parts, nor shove things up my…
CHORUS
You mean the…(Puts finger to bottom)
Oh! be quite at ease.
Pisthetaerus
No, I mean my eyes.
CHORUS
Agreed.
Pisthetaerus
Swear it.
CHORUS
I swear it and, if I keep my promise, let judges and
spectators
give me the victory unanimously.
Pisthetaerus
It is a bargain.
CHORUS
And if I break my word, may I succeed by one vote
only.
Herald Hearken, ye people!
Hoplites, pick up your weapons and return to your
firesides; do not fail to read the decrees of dismissal
we have posted.
CHORUS Man is a truly cunning creature,
but nevertheless explain. Perhaps you are going
to show me some good way to extend my power, some way
that I have not had the wit to find out and which you
have discovered. Speak! ’tis to your own
interest as well as to mine, for if you secure me
some advantage, I will surely share it with you.
But what object can have induced you to come among
us? Speak boldly, for I shall not break the
truce, —until you have told us all.
Pisthetaerus I am bursting with
desire to speak; I have already mixed the dough of
my address and nothing prevents me from kneading it….
Slave! bring the chaplet and water, which you must
pour over my hands. Be quick![1]
f1 It was customary, when speaking
in public and also at feasts, to wear a chaplet; hence
the question Euelpides puts. —The guests
wore chaplets of flowers, herbs, and leaves, which
had the property of being refreshing.
Euelpides
Is it a question of feasting? What does it all
mean?
Pisthetaerus By Zeus, no! but
I am hunting for fine, tasty words to break down the
hardness of their hearts. —I grieve so much
for you, who at one time were kings…
CHORUS
We kings! Over whom?
Pisthetaerus ...of all that
exists, firstly of me and of this man, even of Zeus
himself. Your race is older than Saturn, the
Titans and the Earth.
CHORUS
What, older than the Earth!
Pisthetaerus
By Phoebus, yes.
CHORUS
By Zeus, but I never knew that before!
Pisthetaerus ’Tis because
you are ignorant and heedless, and have never read
your Aesop. ’Tis he who tells us that the
lark was born before all other creatures, indeed before
the Earth; his father died of sickness, but the Earth
did not exist then; he remained unburied for five
days, when the bird in its dilemma decided, for want
of a better place, to entomb its father in its own
head.
Euelpides
So that the lark’s father is buried at Cephalae.[1]
f1 A deme of Attica. In Greek
the word also means ‘heads,’ and hence
the pun.
Epops
Hence, if we existed before the Earth, before the
gods,
the kingship belongs to us by right of priority.
Euelpides
Undoubtedly, but sharpen your beak well; Zeus won’t
be in a hurry
to hand over his sceptre to the woodpecker.
Pisthetaerus It was not the
gods, but the birds, who were formerly the masters
and kings over men; of this I have a thousand proofs.
First of all, I will point you to the cock, who governed
the Persians before all other monarchs, before Darius
and Megabyzus.[1] ’Tis in memory of his reign
that he is called the Persian bird.
f1 One of Darius’ best generals.
After his expedition against the Scythians, this
prince gave him the command of the army which he left
in Europe. Megabyzus took Perinthos (afterwards
called Heraclea) and conquered Thrace.
Euelpides For this reason also,
even to-day, he alone of all the birds wears his tiara
straight on his head, like the Great King.[1]
f1 All Persians wore the tiara,
but always on one side; the Great King alone wore
it straight on his head.
Pisthetaerus He was so strong,
so great, so feared, that even now, on account of
his ancient power, everyone jumps out of bed as soon
as ever he crows at daybreak. Blacksmiths, potters,
tanners, shoemakers, bathmen, corn-dealers, lyre-makers
and armourers, all put on their shoes and go to work
before it is daylight.
Euelpides I can tell you something
about that. ’Twas the cock’s fault
that I lost a splendid tunic of Phrygian wool.
I was at a feast in town, given to celebrate the
birth of a child; I had drunk pretty freely and had
just fallen asleep, when a cock, I suppose in a greater
hurry than the rest, began to crow. I thought
it was dawn and set out for Alimos.[1] I had hardly
got beyond the walls, when a footpad struck me in
the back with his bludgeon; down I went and wanted
to shout, but he had already made off with my mantle.
f1 Noted as the birthplace of Thucydides,
a deme of Attica of the tribe of Leontis. Demosthenes
tells us it was thirty-five stadia from Athens.
Pisthetaerus
Formerly also the kite was ruler and king over the
Greeks.
Epops
The Greeks?
Pisthetaerus
And when he was king, ’twas he who first taught
them to fall
on their knees before the kites.[1]
f1 The appearance of the kite in
Greece betokened the return of springtime; it was
therefore worshipped as a symbol of that season.
Euelpides By Zeus! ’tis
what I did myself one day on seeing a kite; but at
the moment I was on my knees, and leaning backwards1
with mouth agape, I bolted an obolus and was forced
to carry my bag home empty.[2]
f1 To look at the kite, who no doubt
was flying high in the sky. f2 As already shown,
the Athenians were addicted to carrying small coins
in their mouths. —This obolus was for the
purpose of buying flour to fill the bag he was carrying
Pisthetaerus The cuckoo was
king of Egypt and of the whole of Phoenicia.
When he called out “cuckoo,” all the Phoenicians
hurried to the fields to reap their wheat and their
barley.[1]
f1 In Phoenicia and Egypt the cuckoo
makes its appearance about harvest-time.
Euelpides Hence no doubt the
proverb, “Cuckoo! cuckoo! go to the fields,
ye circumcised.”[1]
f1 This was an Egyptian proverb,
meaning, ’When the cuckoo sings we go harvesting.’
Both the Phoenicians and the Egyptians practised circumcision.
Pisthetaerus So powerful were
the birds that the kings of Grecian cities, Agamemnon,
Menelaus, for instance, carried a bird on the tip of
their sceptres, who had his share of all presents.[1]
f1 The staff, called a sceptre,
generally terminated in a piece of carved work, representing
a flower, a fruit, and most often a bird.
Euelpides That I didn’t
know and was much astonished when I saw Priam come
upon the stage in the tragedies with a bird, which
kept watching Lysicrates1 to see if he got any present.
f1 A general accused of treachery.
The bird watches Lysicrates, because, according to
Pisthetaerus, he had a right to a share of the presents.
Pisthetaerus But the strongest
proof of all is, that Zeus, who now reigns, is represented
as standing with an eagle on his head as a symbol of
his royalty;[1] his daughter has an owl, and Phoebus,
as his servant, has a hawk.
f1 It is thus that Phidias represents
his Olympian Zeus.
Euelpides By Demeter, ’tis
well spoken. But what are all these birds doing
in heaven?
Pisthetaerus When anyone sacrifices
and, according to the rite, offers the entrails to
the gods, these birds take their share before Zeus.
Formerly men always swore by the birds and never by
the gods; even now Lampon1 swears by the goose,
when he wants to lie….Thus ’tis clear that
you were great and sacred, but now you are looked
upon as slaves, as fools, as Helots; stones are thrown
at you as at raving madmen, even in holy places.
A crowd of bird-catchers sets snares, traps, limed-twigs
and nets of all sorts for you; you are caught, you
are sold in heaps and the buyers finger you over to
be certain you are fat. Again, if they would
but serve you up simply roasted; but they rasp cheese
into a mixture of oil, vinegar and laserwort, to which
another sweet and greasy sauce is added, and the whole
is poured scalding hot over your back, for all the
world as if you were diseased meat.
f1 One of the diviners sent to Sybaris
(in Magna Graecia, S. Italy) with the Athenian colonists,
who rebuilt the town under the new name of Thurium.
CHORUS Man, your words have made
my heart bleed; I have groaned over the treachery
of our fathers, who knew not how to transmit to us
the high rank they held from their forefathers.
But ’tis a benevolent Genius, a happy Fate,
that sends you to us; you shall be our deliverer and
I place the destiny of my little ones and my own in
your hands with every confidence. But hasten
to tell me what must be done; we should not be worthy
to live, if we did not seek to regain our royalty
by every possible means.
Pisthetaerus First I advise
that the birds gather together in one city and that
they build a wall of great bricks, like that at Babylon,
round the plains of the air and the whole region of
space that divides earth from heaven.
Epops
Oh, Cebriones! oh, Porphyrion![1] what a terribly
strong place!
f1 As if he were saying, “Oh,
gods!” Like Lampon, he swears by the birds,
instead of swearing by the gods. —The names
of these birds are those of two of the Titans.
Pisthetaerus Th[en], this being
well done and completed, you demand back the empire
from Zeus; if he will not agree, if he refuses and
does not at once confess himself beaten, you declare
a sacred war against him and forbid the gods henceforward
to pass through your country with lust, as hitherto,
for the purpose of fondling their Alcmenas, their
Alopes, or their Semeles![1] if they try to pass through,
you infibulate them with rings so that they can work
no longer. You send another messenger to mankind,
who will proclaim to them that the birds are kings,
that for the future they must first of all sacrifice
to them, and only afterwards to the gods; that it
is fitting to appoint to each deity the bird that has
most in common with it. For instance, are they
sacrificing to Aphrodite, let them at the same time
offer barley to the coot; are they immolating a sheep
to Posidon, let them consecrate wheat in honour of
the duck;[2] is a steer being offered to Heracles,
let honey-cakes be dedicated to the gull;[3] is a
goat being slain for King Zeus, there is a King-Bird,
the wren,[4] to whom the sacrifice of a male gnat is
due before Zeus himself even.
f1 Alcmena, wife of Amphitryon,
King of Thebes and mother of Heracles. —Semele,
the daughter of Cadmus and Hermione and mother of
Bacchus; both seduced by Zeus. —Alope, daughter
of Cercyon, a robber, who reigned at Eleusis and was
conquered by Perseus. Alope was honoured with
Posidon’s caresses; by him she had a son named
Hippothous, at first brought up by shepherds but who
afterwards was restored to the throne of his grandfather
by Theseus. f2 Because water is the duck’s
domain, as it is that of Posidon. f3 Because the
gull, like Heracles, is voracious. f4 The Germans
still call it ‘Zaunkonig’ and the French
‘roitelet,’ both names thus containing
the idea of ‘king.’
Euelpides
This notion of an immolated gnat delights me!
And now let the great
Zeus thunder!
Epops
But how will mankind recognize us as gods and not
as jays? Us, who
have wings and fly?
Pisthetaerus You talk rubbish!
Hermes is a god and has wings and flies, and so do
many other gods. First of all, Victory flies
with golden wings, Eros is undoubtedly winged too,
and Iris is compared by Homer to a timorous dove.[1]
If men in their blindness do not recognize you as
gods and continue to worship the dwellers in Olympus,
then a cloud of sparrows greedy for corn must descend
upon their fields and eat up all their seeds; we shall
see then if Demeter will mete them out any wheat.
f1 The scholiast draws our attention
to the fact that Homer says this of Here and not of
Iris (Iliad, V, 778); it is only another proof that
the text of Homer has reached us in a corrupted form,
or it may be that Aristophanes was liable, like other
people, to occasional mistakes of quotation.
Euelpides By Zeus, she’ll
take good care she does not, and you will see her
inventing a thousand excuses.
Pisthetaerus The crows too will
prove your divinity to them by pecking out the eyes
of their flocks and of their draught-oxen; and then
let Apollo cure them, since he is a physician and
is paid for the purpose.[1]
f1 In sacrifices.
Euelpides
Oh! don’t do that! Wait first until I have
sold my two young bullocks.
Pisthetaerus If on the other
hand they recognize that you are God, the principle
of life, that you are Earth, Saturn, Posidon, they
shall be loaded with benefits.
Epops
Name me one of these then.
Pisthetaerus Firstly, the locusts
shall not eat up their vine-blossoms; a legion of
owls and kestrels will devour them. Moreover,
the gnats and the gall-bugs shall no longer ravage
the figs; a flock of thrushes shall swallow the whole
host down to the very last.
Epops
And how shall we give wealth to mankind? This
is their strongest
passion.
Pisthetaerus When they consult
the omens, you will point them to the richest mines,
you will reveal the paying ventures to the diviner,
and not another shipwreck will happen or sailor perish.
Epops
No more shall perish? How is that?
Pisthetaerus When the auguries
are examined before starting on a voyage, some bird
will not fail to say, “Don’t start! there
will be a storm,” or else, “Go! you will
make a most profitable venture.”
Euelpides
I shall buy a trading-vessel and go to sea, I will
not stay with
you.
Pisthetaerus You will discover
treasures to them, which were buried in former times,
for you know them. Do not all men say, “None
knows where my treasure lies, unless perchance it
be some bird.”[1]
f1 An Athenian proverb.
Euelpides
I shall sell my boat and buy a spade to unearth the
vessels.
Epops
And how are we to give them health, which belongs
to the gods?
Pisthetaerus
If they are happy, is not that the chief thing towards
health?
The miserable man is never well.
Epops
Old Age also dwells in Olympus. How will they
get at it? Must they
die in early youth?
Pisthetaerus
Why, the birds, by Zeus, will add three hundred years
to their life.
Epops
From whom will they take them?
Pisthetaerus
From whom? Why, from themselves.
Don’t you know the cawing crow
lives five times as long as a man?
Euelpides
Ah! ah! these are far better kings for us than Zeus!
Pisthetaerus Far better, are
they not? And firstly, we shall not have to build
them temples of hewn stone, closed with gates of gold;
they will dwell amongst the bushes and in the thickets
of green oak; the most venerated of birds will have
no other temple than the foliage of the olive tree;
we shall not go to Delphi or to Ammon to sacrifice;[1]
but standing erect in the midst of arbutus and wild
olives and holding forth our hands filled with wheat
and barley, we shall pray them to admit us to a share
of the blessings they enjoy and shall at once obtain
them for a few grains of wheat.
f1 A celebrated temple to Zeus in an oasis of Libya.
CHORUS Old man, whom I detested,
you are now to me the dearest of all; never shall
I, if I can help it, fail to follow your advice.
Inspirited by your words, I threaten my rivals the
gods, and I swear that if you march in alliance with
me against the gods and are faithful to our just,
loyal and sacred bond, we shall soon have shattered
their sceptre. ’Tis our part to undertake
the toil, ’tis yours to advise.
Epops
By Zeus! ’tis no longer the time to delay and
loiter like
Nicias;[1] let us act as promptly as possible….
In the first place,
come, enter my nest built of brushwood and blades
of straw, and tell
me your names.
f1 Nicias was commander, along with
Demosthenes, and later on Alcibiades, of the Athenian
forces before Syracuse, in the ill-fated Sicilian
Expedition, 415-413 B.C. He was much blamed for
dilatoriness and indecision.
Pisthetaerus
That is soon done; my name is Pisthetaerus.
Epops
And his?
Pisthetaerus
Euelpides, of the deme of Thria.
Epops
Good! and good luck to you.
Pisthetaerus
We accept the omen.
Epops
Come in here.
Pisthetaerus
Very well, ’tis you who lead us and must introduce
us.
Epops
Come then.
Pisthetaerus
Oh! my god! do come back here. Hi! tell us how
we are to follow
you. You can fly, but we cannot.
Epops
Well, well.
Pisthetaerus
Remember Aesop’s fables. It is told there,
that the fox fared
very ill, because he had made an alliance with the
eagle.
Epops
Be at ease. You shall eat a certain root and
wings will grow on
your shoulders.
Pisthetaerus
Then let us enter. Xanthias and Manes,[1] pick
up our baggage.
f1 Servants of Pisthetaerus and Euelpides.
CHORUS
Hi! Epops! do you hear me?
Epops
What’s the matter?
CHORUS
Take them off to dine well and call your mate, the
melodious
Procne, whose songs are worthy of the Muses; she will
delight our
leisure moments.
Pisthetaerus Oh! I conjure
you, accede to their wish; for this delightful bird
will leave her rushes at the sound of your voice; for
the sake of the gods, let her come here, so that we
may contemplate the nightingale.[1]
f1 It has already been mentioned
that, according to the legend followed by Aristophanes,
Procne had been changed into a nightingale and Philomela
into a swallow.
Epops
Let is be as you desire. Come forth, Procne,
show yourself to these strangers.
Pisthetaerus
Oh! great Zeus! what a beautiful little bird! what
a dainty
form! what brilliant plumage![1]
f1 The actor, representing Procne,
was dressed out as a courtesan, but wore a mask of
a bird.
Euelpides
Do you know how dearly I should like to splint her
legs for her?
Pisthetaerus
She is dazzling all over with gold, like a young girl.[1]
f1 Young unmarried girls wore golden
ornaments; the apparel of married women was much simpler.
Euelpides
Oh! how I should like to kiss her!
Pisthetaerus
Why, wretched man, she has two little sharp points
on her beak!
Euelpides
I would treat her like an egg, the shell of which
we remove before
eating it; I would take off her mask and then kiss
her pretty face.
Epops
Let us go in.
Pisthetaerus
Lead the way, and may success attend us.
CHORUS Lovable golden bird, whom
I cherish above all others, you, whom I associate
with all my songs, nightingale, you have come, you
have come, to show yourself to me and to charm me
with your notes. Come, you, who play spring
melodies upon the harmonious flute,[1] lead off our
anapaests.[2]
Weak mortals, chained to the earth,
creatures of clay as frail as the foliage of the woods,
you unfortunate race, whose life is but darkness,
as unreal as a shadow, the illusion of a dream, hearken
to us, who are immortal beings, ethereal, ever young
and occupied with eternal thoughts, for we shall teach
you about all celestial matters; you shall know thoroughly
what is the nature of the birds, what the origin of
the gods, of the rivers, of Erebus, and Chaos; thanks
to us, even Prodicus3 will envy you your knowledge.
At the beginning there was only Chaos,
Night, dark Erebus, and deep Tartarus. Earth,
the air and heaven had no existence. Firstly,
black-winged Night laid a germless egg in the bosom
of the infinite deeps of Erebus, and from this, after
the revolution of long ages, sprang the graceful Eros
with his glittering golden wings, swift as the whirlwinds
of the tempest. He mated in deep Tartarus with
dark Chaos, winged like himself, and thus hatched forth
our race, which was the first to see the light.
That of the Immortals did not exist until Eros had
brought together all the ingredients of the world,
and from their marriage Heaven, Ocean, Earth and the
imperishable race of blessed gods sprang into being.
Thus our origin is very much older than that of the
dwellers in Olympus. We are the offspring of
Eros; there are a thousand proofs to show it.
We have wings and we lend assistance to lovers.
How many handsome youths, who had sworn to remain
insensible, have not been vanquished by our power
and have yielded themselves to their lovers when almost
at the end of their youth, being led away by the gift
of a quail, a waterfowl, a goose, or a cock.[4]
And what important services do not
the birds render to mortals! First of all, they
mark the seasons for them, springtime, winter, and
autumn. Does the screaming crane migrate to Libya,
—it warns the husbandman to sow, the pilot
to take his ease beside his tiller hung up in his
dwelling,[5] and Orestes6 to weave a tunic, so that
the rigorous cold may not drive him any more to
strip other folk. When the kite reappears, he
tells of the return of spring and of the period when
the fleece of the sheep must be clipped. Is
the swallow in sight? All hasten to sell their
warm tunic and to buy some light clothing. We
are your Ammon, Delphi, Dodona, your Phoebus Apollo.[7]
Before undertaking anything, whether a business transaction,
a marriage, or the purchase of food, you consult the
birds by reading the omens, and you give this name
of omen8 to all signs that tell of the future.
With you a word is an omen, you call a sneeze an omen,
a meeting an omen, an unknown sound an omen, a slave
or an ass an omen.[9] Is it not clear that we are
a prophetic Apollo to you? If you recognize us
as gods, we shall be your divining Muses, through
us you will know the winds and the seasons, summer,
winter, and the temperate months. We shall not
withdraw ourselves to the highest clouds like Zeus,
but shall be among you and shall give to you and to
your children and the children of your children, health
and wealth, long life, peace, youth, laughter, songs
and feasts; in short, you will all be so well off,
that you will be weary and satiated with enjoyment.
Oh, rustic Muse of such varied note,
tio, tio, tio, tiotinx, I sing with you in the groves
and on the mountain tops, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx.[10]
I poured forth sacred strains from my golden throat
in honour of the god Pan,[11] tio, tio, tio, tiotinx,
from the top of the thickly leaved ash, and my voice
mingles with the mighty choirs who extol Cybele on
the mountain tops,[12] tototototototototinx.
’Tis to our concerts that Phrynichus comes to
pillage like a bee the ambrosia of his songs, the
sweetness of which so charms the ear, tio, tio, tio,
tio, tinx.
If there be one of you spectators
who wishes to spend the rest of his life quietly among
the birds, let him come to us. All that is disgraceful
and forbidden by law on earth is on the contrary honourable
among us, the birds. For instance, among you
’tis a crime to beat your father, but with us
’tis an estimable deed; it’s considered
fine to run straight at your father and hit him, saying,
“Come, lift your spur if you want to fight.”[13]
The runaway slave, whom you brand, is only a spotted
francolin with us.[14] Are you Phrygian like Spintharus?[15]
Among us you would be the Phrygian bird, the goldfinch,
of the race of Philemon.[16] Are you a slave and
a Carian like Execestides? Among us you can create
yourself fore-fathers;[17] you can always find relations.
Does the son of Pisias want to betray the gates of
the city to the foe? Let him become a partridge,
the fitting offspring of his father; among us there
is no shame in escaping as cleverly as a partridge.
So the swans on the banks of the Hebrus,
tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx, mingle their voices to
serenade Apollo, tio, tio, tio, tio. tiotinx, flapping
their wings the while, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx;
their notes reach beyond the clouds of heaven; all
the dwellers in the forest stand still with astonishment
and delight; a calm rests upon the waters, and the
Graces and the choirs in Olympus catch up the strain,
tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx.
There is nothing more useful nor more
pleasant than to have wings. To begin with, just
let us suppose a spectator to be dying with hunger
and to be weary of the choruses of the tragic poets;
if he were winged, he would fly off, go home to dine
and come back with his stomach filled. Some
Patroclides in urgent need would not have to soil
his cloak, but could fly off, satisfy his requirements,
and, having recovered his breath, return. If
one of you, it matters not who, had adulterous relations
and saw the husband of his mistress in the seats of
the senators, he might stretch his wings, fly thither,
and, having appeased his craving, resume his place.
Is it not the most priceless gift of all, to be winged?
Look at Diitrephes![18] His wings were only wicker-work
ones, and yet he got himself chosen Phylarch and then
Hipparch; from being nobody, he has risen to be famous;
’tis now the finest gilded cock of his tribe.[19]
f1 The actor, representing Procne,
was a flute-player. f2 The parabasis. f3 A sophist
of the island of Ceos, a disciple of Protagoras, as
celebrated for his knowledge as for his eloquence.
The Athenians condemned him to death as a corrupter
of youth in 396 B.C. f4 Lovers were wont to make
each other presents of birds. The cock and the
goose are mentioned, of course, in jest. f5 i.e.
that it gave notice of the approach of winter, during
which season the Ancients did not venture to sea.
f6 A notorious robber. f7 Meaning, “We are
your oracles.” —Dodona was an oracle
in Epirus. —The temple of Zeus there
was surrounded by a dense forest, all the trees of
which were endowed with the gift of prophecy; both
the sacred oaks and the pigeons that lived in them
answered the questions of those who came to consult
the oracle in pure Greek. f8 The Greek word for
‘omen’ is the same as that for ‘bird.’
f9 A satire on the passion of the Greeks for seeing
an omen in everything. f10 An imitation of the
nightingale’s song. f11 God of the groves
and wilds. f12 The ‘Mother of the Gods’;
roaming the mountains, she held dances, always attended
by Pan and his accompanying rout of Fauns and Satyrs.
f13 An allusion to cock-fighting; the birds are armed
with brazen spurs. f14 An allusion to the spots
on this bird, which resemble the scars left by a branding
iron. f15 He was of Asiatic origin, but wished to
pass for an Athenian. f16 Or Philamnon, King of
Thrace; the scholiast remarks that the Phrygians and
the Thracians had a common origin. f17 The Greek
word here is also the name of a little bird. f18
A basket-maker who had become rich. —The
Phylarchs were the headmen of the tribes. They
presided at the private assemblies and were charged
with the management of the treasury. —The
Hipparchs, as the name implies, were the leaders of
the cavalry; there were only two of these in the Athenian
army. f19 He had become a senator.
Pisthetaerus Halloa! What’s
this? By Zeus! I never saw anything so funny
in all my life.[1]
f1 Pisthetaerus and Euelpides now
both return with wings.
Euelpides
What makes you laugh?
Pisthetaerus
’Tis your bits of wings. D’you know
what you look like? Like a goose
painted by some dauber-fellow.
Euelpides
And you look like a close-shaven blackbird.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis ourselves asked for this transformation,
and, as Aeschylus
has it, “These are no borrowed feathers, but
truly our own.”[1]
f1 Meaning, ’tis we who wanted
to have these wings. —The verse from Aeschylus,
quoted here, is taken from ‘The Myrmidons,’
a tragedy of which only a few fragments remain.
Epops
Come now, what must be done?
Pisthetaerus
First give our city a great and famous name, then
sacrifice to the gods.
Euelpides
I think so too.
Epops
Let’s see. What shall our city be called?
Pisthetaerus
Will you have a high-sounding Laconian name?
Shall we call it Sparta?
Euelpides
What! call my town Sparta? Why, I would not
use esparto for my
bed,[1] even though I had nothing but bands of rushes.
f1 The Greek word signified the
city of Sparta, and also a kind of broom used for
weaving rough matting, which served for the beds of
the very poor.
Pisthetaerus
Well then, what name can you suggest?
Euelpides
Some name borrowed from the clouds, from these lofty
regions
in which we dwell—in short, some well-known
name.
Pisthetaerus
Do you like Nephelococcygia?[1]
f1 A fanciful name constructed from
[the word for] a cloud, and [the word for] a cuckoo;
thus a city of clouds and cuckoos. —’Wolkenkukelheim’
is a clever approximation in German. Cloud-cuckoo-town,
perhaps, is the best English equivalent.
Epops
Oh! capital! truly ’tis a brilliant thought!
Euelpides
Is it in Nephelococcygia that all the wealth of Theovenes1
and most
of Aeschines’[2] is?
f1 He was a boaster nicknamed ‘smoke,’
because he promised a great deal and never kept his
word. f2 Also mentioned in ‘The Wasps.’
Pisthetaerus
No, ’tis rather the plain of Phlegra,[1] where
the gods withered
the pride of the sons of the Earth with their shafts.
f1 Because the war of the Titans
against the gods was only a fiction of the poets.
Euelpides
Oh! what a splendid city! But what god shall
be its patron?
for whom shall we weave the peplus?[1]
f1 A sacred cloth, with which the
statue of Athene in the Acropolis was draped.
Pisthetaerus
Why not choose Athene Polias?[1]
f1 Meaning, to be patron-goddess
of the city. Athene had a temple of this name.
Euelpides
Oh! what a well-ordered town ’twould be to have
a female deity
armed from head to foot, while Clisthenes1 was spinning!
f1 An Athenian effeminate, frequently
ridiculed by Aristophanes.
Pisthetaerus
Who then shall guard the Pelargicon?[1]
f1 This was the name of the wall
surrounding the Acropolis.
Epops
One of us, a bird of Persian strain, who is everywhere
proclaimed to be
the bravest of all, a true chick of Ares.[1]
f1 i.e. the fighting cock.
Euelpides
Oh! noble chick! What a well-chosen god for a
rocky home!
Pisthetaerus Come! into the
air with you to help the workers who are building
the wall; carry up rubble, strip yourself to mix the
mortar, take up the hod, tumble down the ladder, an
you like, post sentinels, keep the fire smouldering
beneath the ashes, go round the walls, bell in hand,[1]
and go to sleep up there yourself; then d[i]spatch
two heralds, one to the gods above, the other to mankind
on earth and come back here.
f1 To waken the sentinels, who might
else have fallen asleep. —There are
several merry contradictions in the various parts
of this list of injunctions.
Euelpides
As for yourself, remain here, and may the plague take
you for
a troublesome fellow!
Pisthetaerus Go, friend, go
where I send you, for without you my orders cannot
be obeyed. For myself, I want to sacrifice to
the new god, and I am going to summon the priest who
must preside at the ceremony. Slaves! slaves!
bring forward the basket and the lustral water.
CHORUS I do as you do, and I wish
as you wish, and I implore you to address powerful
and solemn prayers to the gods, and in addition to
immolate a sheep as a token of our gratitude.
Let us sing the Pythian chant in honour of the god,
and let Chaeris accompany our voices.
Pisthetaerus (to the
flute-player) Enough! but, by Heracles!
what is this? Great gods! I have seen many
prodigious things, but I never saw a muzzled raven.[1]
f1 In allusion to the leather strap
which flute-players wore to constrict the cheeks and
add to the power of the breath. The performer
here no doubt wore a raven’s mask.
Epops
Priest! ’tis high time! Sacrifice to the
new gods.
Priest I begin, but where is
he with the basket? Pray to the Vesta of the
birds, to the kite, who presides over the hearth, and
to all the god and goddess-birds who dwell in Olympus.
CHORUS
Oh! Hawk, the sacred guardian of Sunium, oh,
god of the storks!
Priest
Pray to the swan of Delos, to Latona the mother of
the quails, and to
Artemis, the goldfinch.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis no longer Artemis Colaenis, but Artemis
the goldfinch.[1]
f1 Hellanicus, the Mitylenian historian,
tells that this surname of Artemis is derived from
Colaenus, King of Athens before Cecrops and a descendant
of Hermes. In obedience to an oracle he erected
a temple to the goddess, invoking her as Artemis Colaenis
(the Artemis of Colaenus).
Priest
And to Bacchus, the finch and Cybele, the ostrich
and mother
of the gods and mankind.
CHORUS Oh! sovereign ostrich, Cybele,
The mother of Cleocritus,[1] grant health and safety
to the Nephelococcygians as well as to the dwellers
in Chios…
f1 This Cleocritus, says the scholiast,
was long-necked and strutted like an ostrich.
Pisthetaerus The dwellers in
Chios! Ah! I am delighted they should be
thus mentioned on all occasions.[1]
f1 The Chians were the most faithful
allies of Athens, and hence their name was always
mentioned in prayers, decrees, etc.
CHORUS …to the heroes, the birds,
to the sons of heroes, to the porphyrion, the pelican,
the spoon-bill, the redbreast, the grouse, the peacock,
the horned-owl, the teal, the bittern, the heron,
the stormy petrel, the fig-pecker, the titmouse…
Pisthetaerus Stop! stop! you
drive me crazy with your endless list. Why,
wretch, to what sacred feast are you inviting the vultures
and the sea-eagles? Don’t you see that
a single kite could easily carry off the lot at once?
Begone, you and your fillets and all; I shall know
how to complete the sacrifice by myself.
Priest It is imperative that
I sing another sacred chant for the rite of the lustral
water, and that I invoke the immortals, or at least
one of them, provided always that you have some suitable
food to offer him; from what I see here, in the shape
of gifts, there is naught whatever but horn and hair.
Pisthetaerus
Let us address our sacrifices and our prayers to the
winged gods.
A poet
Oh, Muse! celebrate happy Nephelococcygia in your
hymns.
Pisthetaerus
What have we here? Where did you come from,
tell me? Who are you?
POET
I am he whose language is sweeter than honey, the
zealous slave
of the Muses, as Homer has it.
Pisthetaerus
You a slave! and yet you wear your hair long?
POET
No, but the fact is all we poets are the assiduous
slaves
of the Muses, according to Homer.
Pisthetaerus
In truth your little cloak is quite holy too through
zeal!
But, poet, what ill wind drove you here?
POET
I have composed verses in honour of your Nephelococcygia,
a host
of splendid dithyrambs and parthenians1 worthy of
Simonides himself.
f1 Verses sung by maidens.
Pisthetaerus
And when did you compose them? How long since?
POET
Oh! ’tis long, aye, very long, that I have sung
in honour of this city.
Pisthetaerus
But I am only celebrating its foundation with this
sacrifice;[1]
I have only just named it, as is done with little
babies.
f1 This ceremony took place on the
tenth day after birth, and may be styled the pagan
baptism.
POET “Just as the chargers
fly with the speed of the wind, so does the voice
of the Muses take its flight. Oh! thou noble
founder of the town of Aetna,[1] thou, whose name
recalls the holy sacrifices,[2] make us such gift
as thy generous heart shall suggest.”
f1 Hiero, tyrant of Syracuse. —This
passage is borrowed from Pindar. f2 in Greek
means ‘sacrifice.’
Pisthetaerus He will drive us
silly if we do not get rid of him by some present.
Here! you, who have a fur as well as your tunic, take
it off and give it to this clever poet. Come,
take this fur; you look to me to be shivering with
cold.
POET My Muse will gladly accept this
gift; but engrave these verses of Pindar’s on
your mind.
Pisthetaerus
Oh! what a pest! ’Tis impossible then to
be rid of him!
POET
“Straton wanders among the Scythian nomads,
but has no linen garment.
He is sad at only wearing an animal’s pelt and
no tunic.”
Do you conceive my bent?
Pisthetaerus
I understand that you want me to offer you a tunic.
Hi! you (to
Euelpides), take off yours; we must help the
poet…. Come, you,
take it and begone.
POET
I am going, and these are the verses that I address
to this city:
“Phoebus of the golden throne, celebrate this
shivery,
freezing city; I have travelled through fruitful and
snow-covered
plains. Tralala! Tralala!”[1]
f1 A parody of poetic pathos, not to say bathos.
Pisthetaerus What are you chanting
us about frosts? Thanks to the tunic, you no
longer fear them. Ah! by Zeus! I could not
have believed this cursed fellow could so soon have
learnt the way to our city. Come, priest, take
the lustral water and circle the altar.
Priest
Let all keep silence!
A prophet
Let not the goat be sacrificed.[1]
F1 Which the priest was preparing to sacrifice.
Pisthetaerus
Who are you?
PROPHET
Who am I? A prophet.
Pisthetaerus
Get you gone.
PROPHET
Wretched man, insult not sacred things. For
there is an oracle
of Bacis, which exactly applies to Nephelococcygia.
Pisthetaerus
Why did you not reveal it to me before I founded my
city?
PROPHET
The divine spirit was against it.
Pisthetaerus
Well, ’tis best to know the terms of the oracle.
PROPHET
“But when the wolves and the white crows shall
dwell together
between Corinth and Sicyon…”
Pisthetaerus
But how do the Corinthians concern me?
PROPHET
’Tis the regions of the air that Bacis indicated
in this manner.
“They must first sacrifice a white-fleeced goat
to Pandora, and give
the prophet, who first reveals my words, a good cloak
and new sandals.”
Pisthetaerus
Are the sandals there?
PROPHET
Read. “And besides this a goblet of wine
and a good share
of the entrails of the victim.”
Pisthetaerus
Of the entrails—is it so written?
PROPHET Read. “If you
do as I command, divine youth, you shall be an eagle
among the clouds; if not, you shall be neither turtle-dove,
nor eagle, nor woodpecker.”
Pisthetaerus
Is all that there?
PROPHET
Read.
Pisthetaerus This oracle in
no sort of way resembles the one Apollo dictated to
me: “If an impostor comes without invitation
to annoy you during the sacrifice and to demand a
share of the victim, apply a stout stick to his ribs.”
PROPHET
You are drivelling.
Pisthetaerus
“And don’t spare him, were he an eagle
from out of the clouds,
were it Lampon1 himself or the great Diopithes.”[2]
f1 Noted Athenian diviner, who,
when the power was still shared between Thucydides
and Pericles, predicted that it would soon be centred
in the hands of the latter; his ground for this prophecy
was the sight of a ram with a single horn. f2 No
doubt another Athenian diviner, and possibly the same
person whom Aristophanes names in ‘The Knights’
and ‘The Wasps’ as being a thief.
PROPHET
Is all that there?
Pisthetaerus
Here, read it yourself, and go and hang yourself.
PROPHET
Oh! unfortunate wretch that I am.
Pisthetaerus
Away with you, and take your prophecies elsewhere.
Meton[1]
I have come to you.
f1 A celebrated geometrician and astronomer.
Pisthetaerus
Yet another pest! What have you come to do?
What’s your plan?
What’s the purpose of your journey? Why
these splendid buskins?
Meton
I want to survey the plains of the air for you and
to parcel
them into lots.
Pisthetaerus
In the name of the gods, who are you?
Meton
Who am I? Meton, known throughout Greece and
at Colonus.[1]
f1 A deme contiguous to Athens.
It is as though he said, “Well known throughout
all England and at Croydon.
Pisthetaerus
What are these things?
Meton Tools for measuring the
air. In truth, the spaces in the air have precisely
the form of a furnace. With this bent ruler I
draw a line from top to bottom; from one of its points
I describe a circle with the compass. Do you
understand?
Pisthetaerus
Not the very least.
Meton With the straight ruler
I set to work to inscribe a square within this circle;
in its centre will be the market-place, into which
all the straight streets will lead, converging to this
centre like a star, which, although only orbicular,
sends forth its rays in a straight line from all sides.
Pisthetaerus
Meton, you new Thales…[1]
f1 Thales was no less famous as
a geometrician than he was as a sage.
Meton
What d’you want with me?
Pisthetaerus
I want to give you a proof of my friendship.
Use your legs.
Meton
Why, what have I to fear?
Pisthetaerus
’Tis the same here as in Sparta. Strangers
are driven away,
and blows rain down as thick as hail.
Meton
Is there sedition in your city?
Pisthetaerus
No, certainly not.
Meton
What’s wrong then?
Pisthetaerus
We are agreed to sweep all quacks and impostors far
from our borders.
Meton
Then I’m off.
Pisthetaerus
I fear ’tis too late. The thunder growls
already. (BEATS him.)
Meton
Oh, woe! oh, woe!
Pisthetaerus
I warned you. Now, be off, and do your surveying
somewhere else.
(Meton takes to his HEELS.)
An inspector
Where are the Proxeni?[1]
f1 Officers of Athens, whose duty
was to protect strangers who came on political or
other business, and see to their interests generally.
Pisthetaerus
Who is this Sardanapalus?[1]
f1 He addresses the inspector thus
because of the royal and magnificent manners he assumes.
INSPECTOR
I have been appointed by lot to come to Nephelococcygia.
as inspector.[1]
f1 Magistrates appointed to inspect
the tributary towns.
Pisthetaerus
An inspector! and who sends you here, you rascal?
INSPECTOR
A decree of T[e]leas.[1]
f1 A much-despised citizen, already
mentioned. He ironically supposes him invested
with the powers of an Archon, which ordinarily were
entrusted only to men of good repute.
Pisthetaerus
Will you just pocket your salary, do nothing, and
be off?
INSPECTOR
I’ faith! that I will; I am urgently needed
to be at Athens to attend
the assembly; for I am charged with the interests
of Pharnaces.[1]
f1 A Persian satrap. —An
allusion to certain orators, who, bribed with Asiatic
gold, had often defended the interests of the foe
in the Public Assembly.
Pisthetaerus
Take it then, and be off. See, here is your
salary. (BEATS him.)
INSPECTOR
What does this mean?
Pisthetaerus
’Tis the assembly where you have to defend Pharnaces.
INSPECTOR
You shall testify that they dare to strike me, the
inspector.
Pisthetaerus Are you not going
to clear out with your urns? ’Tis not to
be believed; they send us inspectors before we have
so much as paid sacrifice to the gods.
A dealer in decrees
“If the Nephelococcygian does wrong to the Athenian…”
Pisthetaerus
Now whatever are these cursed parchments?
DEALER in decrees
I am a dealer in decrees, and I have come here to
sell you
the new laws.
Pisthetaerus
Which?
DEALER in decrees
“The Nephelococcygians shall adopt the same
weights, measures
and decrees as the Olophyxians.”[1]
f1 A Macedonian people in the peninsula
of Chalcidice. This name is chosen because of
its similarity to the Greek word [for] ‘to groan.’
It is from another verb, meaning the same thing, that
Pisthetaerus coins the name of Ototyxians, i.e.
groaners, because he is about to beat the dealer.
—The mother-country had the right to impose
any law it chose upon its colonies.
Pisthetaerus
And you shall soon be imitating the Ototyxians. (BEATS
him.)
DEALER in decrees
Hullo! what are you doing?
Pisthetaerus
Now will you be off with your decrees? For I
am going to let you
see some severe ones.
INSPECTOR (RETURNING)
I summon Pisthetaerus for outrage for the month of
Munychion.[1]
f1 Corresponding to our month of April.
Pisthetaerus
Ha! my friend! are you still there?
DEALER in decrees
“Should anyone drive away the magistrates and
not receive them,
according to the decree duly posted…”
Pisthetaerus
What! rascal! you are there too?
INSPECTOR
Woe to you! I’ll have you condemned to
a fine of ten thousand
drachmae.
Pisthetaerus
And I’ll smash your urns.[1]
f1 Which the inspector had brought
with him for the purpose of inaugurating the assemblies
of the people or some tribunal.
INSPECTOR
Do you recall that evening when you stooled against
the column where
the decrees are posted?
Pisthetaerus
Here! here! let him be seized. (The inspector
runs off.) Well!
don’t you want to stop any longer?
Priest
Let us get indoors as quick as possible; we will sacrifice
the goat
inside.[1]
f1 So that the sacrifices might
no longer be interrupted.
CHORUS Henceforth it is to me that
mortals must address their sacrifices and their prayers.
Nothing escapes my sight nor my might. My glance
embraces the universe, I preserve the fruit in the
flower by destroying the thousand kinds of voracious
insects the soil produces, which attack the trees
and feed on the germ when it has scarcely formed in
the calyx; I destroy those who ravage the balmy terrace
gardens like a deadly plague; all these gnawing crawling
creatures perish beneath the lash of my wing.
I hear it proclaimed everywhere: “A talent
for him who shall kill Diagoras of Melos,[1] and a
talent for him who destroys one of the dead tyrants.”[2]
We likewise wish to make our proclamation: “A
talent to him among you who shall kill Philocrates,
the Struthian;[3] four, if he brings him to us alive.
For this Philocrates skewers the finches together
and sells them at the rate of an obolus for seven.
He tortures the thrushes by blowing them out, so
that they may look bigger, sticks their own feathers
into the nostrils of blackbirds, and collects pigeons,
which he shuts up and forces them, fastened in a net,
to decoy others.” That is what we wish to
proclaim. And if anyone is keeping birds shut
up in his yard, let him hasten to let them loose;
those who disobey shall be seized by the birds and
we shall put them in chains, so that in their turn
they may decoy other men.
Happy indeed is the race of winged
birds who need no cloak in winter! Neither do
I fear the relentless rays of the fiery dog-days;
when the divine grasshopper, intoxicated with the sunlight,
when noon is burning the ground, is breaking out into
shrill melody; my home is beneath the foliage in the
flowery meadows. I winter in deep caverns, where
I frolic with the mountain nymphs, while in spring
I despoil the gardens of the Graces and gather the
white, virgin berry on the myrtle bushes.
I want now to speak to the judges
about the prize they are going to award; if they are
favourable to us, we will load them with benefits
far greater than those Paris4 received. Firstly,
the owls of Laurium,[5] which every judge desires
above all things, shall never be wanting to you; you
shall see them homing with you, building their nests
in your money-bags and laying coins. Besides,
you shall be housed like the gods, for we shall erect
gables6 over your dwellings; if you hold some public
post and want to do a little pilfering, we will give
you the sharp claws of a hawk. Are you dining
in town, we will provide you with crops.[7] But,
if your award is against us, don’t fail to have
metal covers fashioned for yourselves, like those
they place over statues;[8] else, look out! for the
day you wear a white tunic all the birds will soil
it with their droppings.
f1 A disciple of Democrites; he
passed over from superstition to atheism. The
injustice and perversity of mankind led him to deny
the existence of the gods, to lay bare the mysteries
and to break the idols. The Athenians had put
a price on his head, so he left Greece and perished
soon afterwards in a storm at sea. f2 By this jest
Aristophanes means to imply that tyranny is dead, and
that no one aspires to despotic power, though this
silly accusation was constantly being raised by the
demagogues and always favourably received by the populace.
f3 A poulterer. —Strouthian, used in joke
to designate him, as if from the name of his ‘deme,’
is derived from [the Greek for] ‘a sparrow.’
The birds’ foe is thus grotesquely furnished
with an ornithological surname. f4 From Aphrodite
(Venus), to whom he had awarded the apple, prize of
beauty, in the contest of the “goddesses three.”
f5 Laurium was an Athenian deme at the extremity
of the Attic peninsula containing valuable silver
mines, the revenues of which were largely employed
in the maintenance of the fleet and payment of the
crews. The “owls of Laurium,” of course,
mean pieces of money; the Athenian coinage was stamped
with a representation of an owl, the bird of Athene.
f6 A pun, impossible to keep in English, on the two
meanings of [the Greek] word which signifies both
an eagle and the gable of a house or pediment of a
temple. f7 That is, birds’ crops, into which
they could stow away plenty of good things. f8
The Ancients appear to have placed metal discs over
statues standing in the open air, to save them from
injury from the weather, etc.
Pisthetaerus Birds! the sacrifice
is propitious. But I see no messenger coming
from the wall to tell us what is happening. Ah!
here comes one running himself out of breath as though
he were running the Olympic stadium.
MESSENGER Where, where is he?
Where, where, where is he? Where, where, where
is he? Where is Pisthetaerus, our leader?
Pisthetaerus
Here am I.
MESSENGER
The wall is finished.
Pisthetaerus
That’s good news.
MESSENGER ’Tis a most beautiful,
a most magnificent work of art. The wall is
so broad that Proxenides, the Braggartian, and Theogenes
could pass each other in their chariots, even if they
were drawn by steeds as big as the Trojan horse.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis wonderful!
MESSENGER
Its length is one hundred stadia; I measured it myself.
Pisthetaerus
A decent length, by Posidon! And who built such
a wall?
MESSENGER Birds—birds
only; they had neither Egyptian brickmaker, nor stone-mason,
nor carpenter; the birds did it all themselves; I could
hardly believe my eyes. Thirty thousand cranes
came from Libya with a supply of stones,[1] intended
for the foundations. The water-rails chiselled
them with their beaks. Ten thousand storks were
busy making bricks; plovers and other water fowl carried
water into the air.
f1 So as not to be carried away
by the wind when crossing the sea, cranes are popularly
supposed to ballast themselves with stones, which
they carry in their beaks.
Pisthetaerus
And who carried the mortar?
MESSENGER
Herons, in hods.
Pisthetaerus
But how could they put the mortar into hods?
MESSENGER Oh! ’twas a truly
clever invention; the geese used their feet like spades;
they buried them in the pile of mortar and then emptied
them into the hods.
Pisthetaerus
Ah! to what use cannot feet be put?[1]
f1 Pisthetaerus modifies the Greek
proverbial saying, “To what use cannot hands
be put?”
MESSENGER You should have seen how
eagerly the ducks carried bricks. To complete
the tale, the swallows came flying to the work, their
beaks full of mortar and their trowel on their back,
just the way little children are carried.
Pisthetaerus Who would want
paid servants after this? But tell me, who did
the woodwork?
MESSENGER Birds again, and clever
carpenters too, the pelicans, for they squared up
the gates with their beaks in such a fashion that one
would have thought they were using axes; the noise
was just like a dockyard. Now the whole wall
is tight everywhere, securely bolted and well guarded;
it is patrolled, bell in hand; the sentinels stand
everywhere and beacons burn on the towers. But
I must run off to clean myself; the rest is your business.
CHORUS Well! what do you say to it?
Are you not astonished at the wall being completed
so quickly?
Pisthetaerus By the gods, yes,
and with good reason. ’Tis really not to
be believed. But here comes another messenger
from the wall to bring us some further news!
What a fighting look he has!
SECOND messenger
Oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh!
Pisthetaerus
What’s the matter?
SECOND messenger A horrible
outrage has occurred; a god sent by Zeus has passed
through our gates and has penetrated the realms of
the air without the knowledge of the jays, who are
on guard in the daytime.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis an unworthy and criminal deed. What
god was it?
SECOND messenger
We don’t know that. All we know is, that
he has got wings.
Pisthetaerus
Why were not guards sent against him at once?
SECOND messenger We have d[i]spatched
thirty thousand hawks of the legion of Mounted Archers.[1]
All the hook-clawed birds are moving against him,
the kestrel, the buzzard, the vulture, the great-horned
owl; they cleave the air, so that it resounds with
the flapping of their wings; they are looking everywhere
for the god, who cannot be far away; indeed, if I
mistake not, he is coming from yonder side.
f1 A corps of Athenian cavalry was so named.
Pisthetaerus
All arm themselves with slings and bows! This
way, all our soldiers;
shoot and strike! Some one give me a sling!
CHORUS War, a terrible war is breaking
out between us and the gods! Come, let each
one guard Air, the son of Erebus,[1] in which the clouds
float. Take care no immortal enters it without
your knowledge. Scan all sides with your glance.
Hark! methinks I can hear the rustle of the swift
wings of a god from heaven.
f1 Chaos, Night, Tartarus, and Erebus
alone existed in the beginning; Eros was born from
Night and Erebus, and he wedded Chaos and begot Earth,
Air, and Heaven; so runs the fable.
Pisthetaerus Hi! you woman!
where are you flying to? Halt, don’t stir!
keep motionless! not a beat of your wing! —Who
are you and from what country? You must say
whence you come.[1]
f1 Iris appears from the top of
the stage and arrests her flight in mid-career.
Iris
I come from the abode of the Olympian gods.
Pisthetaerus
What’s your name, ship or cap?[1]
f1 Ship, because of her wings, which
resemble oars; cap, because she no doubt wore the
head-dress (as a messenger of the gods) with which
Hermes is generally depicted.
Iris
I am swift Iris.
Pisthetaerus
Paralus or Salaminia?[1]
f1 The names of the two sacred galleys
which carried Athenian officials on State business.
Iris
What do you mean?
Pisthetaerus
Let a buzzard rush at her and seize her.[1]
f1 A buzzard is named in order to
raise a laugh, the Greek name also meaning, etymologically,
provided with three testicles, vigorous in love.
Iris
Seize me! But what do all these insults mean?
Pisthetaerus
Woe to you!
Iris
’Tis incomprehensible.
Pisthetaerus
By which gate did you pass through the wall, wretched
woman?
Iris
By which gate? Why, great gods, I don’t
know.
Pisthetaerus You hear how she
holds us in derision. Did you present yourself
to the officers in command of the jays? You don’t
answer. Have you a permit, bearing the seal
of the storks?
Iris
Am I awake?
Pisthetaerus
Did you get one?
Iris
Are you mad?
Pisthetaerus
No head-bird gave you a safe-conduct?
Iris
A safe-conduct to me, you poor fool!
Pisthetaerus
Ah! and so you slipped into this city on the sly and
into these
realms of air-land that don’t belong to you.
Iris
And what other roads can the gods travel?
Pisthetaerus By Zeus! I
know nothing about that, not I. But they won’t
pass this way. And you still dare to complain!
Why, if you were treated according to your deserts,
no Iris would ever have more justly suffered death.
Iris
I am immortal.
Pisthetaerus You would have
died nevertheless. —Oh! ’twould be
truly intolerable! What! should the universe
obey us and the gods alone continue their insolence
and not understand that they must submit to the law
of the strongest in their due turn? But tell
me, where are you flying to?
Iris I? The messenger
of Zeus to mankind, I am going to tell them to sacrifice
sheep and oxen on the altars and to fill their streets
with the rich smoke of burning fat.
Pisthetaerus
Of which gods are you speaking?
Iris
Of which? Why, of ourselves, the gods of heaven.
Pisthetaerus
You, gods?
Iris
Are there others then?
Pisthetaerus
Men now adore the birds as gods, and ’tis to
them, by Zeus, that
they must offer sacrifices, and not to Zeus at all!
Iris
Oh! fool! fool! Rouse not the wrath of the gods,
for ’tis
terrible indeed. Armed with the brand of Zeus,
Justice would
annihilate your race; the lightning would strike you
as it did
Licymnius and consume both your body and the porticos
of your palace.[1]
f1 Iris’ reply is a parody
of the tragic style. —’Lycimnius’
is, according to the scholiast, the title of a tragedy
by Euripides, which is about a ship that is struck
by lightning.
Pisthetaerus Here! that’s
enough tall talk. Just you listen and keep quiet!
Do you take me for a Lydian or a Phrygian1 and think
to frighten me with your big words? Know, that
if Zeus worries me again, I shall go at the head of
my eagles, who are armed with lightning, and reduce
his dwelling and that of Amphion to cinders.[2] I
shall send more than six hundred porphyrions clothed
in leopards’ skins3 up to heaven against him;
and formerly a single Porphyrion gave him enough to
do. As for you, his messenger, if you annoy
me, I shall begin by stretching your legs asunder,
and so conduct myself, Iris though you be, that despite
my age, you will be astonished. I will show you
something that will make you three times over.
f1 i.e. for a poltroon, like
the slaves, most of whom came to Athens from these
countries. f2 A parody of a passage in the lost
tragedy of ‘Niobe’ of Aeschylus. f3
Because this bird has a spotted plumage. —Porphyrion
is also the name of one of the Titans who tried to
storm heave.
Iris
May you perish, you wretch, you and your infamous
words!
Pisthetaerus
Won’t you be off quickly? Come, stretch
your wings or look out for squalls!
Iris
If my father does not punish you for your insults…
Pisthetaerus
Ha!... but just you be off elsewhere to roast younger
folk than us
with your lightning.
CHORUS
We forbid the gods, the sons of Zeus, to pass through
our city and
the mortals to send them the smoke of their sacrifices
by this road.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis odd that the messenger we sent to the mortals
has never
returned.
Herald
Oh! blessed Pisthetaerus, very wise, very illustrious,
very
gracious, thrice happy, very… Come, prompt
me, somebody, do.
Pisthetaerus
Get to your story!
Herald
All peoples are filled with admiration for your wisdom,
and they
award you this golden crown.
Pisthetaerus
I accept it. But tell me, why do the people
admire me?
Herald Oh you, who have founded
so illustrious a city in the air, you know not in
what esteem men hold you and how many there are who
burn with desire to dwell in it. Before your
city was built, all men had a mania for Sparta; long
hair and fasting were held in honour, men went dirty
like Socrates and carried staves. Now all is
changed. Firstly, as soon as ’tis dawn,
they all spring out of bed together to go and seek
their food, the same as you do; then they fly off
towards the notices and finally devour the decrees.
The bird-madness is so clear, that many actually
bear the names of birds. There is a halting
victualler, who styles himself the partridge; Menippus
calls himself the swallow; Opuntius the one-eyed crow;
Philocles the lark; Theogenes the fox-goose; Lycurgus
the ibis; Chaerephon the bat; Syracosius the magpie;
Midias the quail;[1] indeed he looks like a quail
that has been hit hard over the head. Out of
love for the birds they repeat all the songs which
concern the swallow, the teal, the goose or the pigeon;
in each verse you see wings, or at all events a few
feathers. This is what is happening down there.
Finally, there are more than ten thousand folk who
are coming here from earth to ask you for feathers
and hooked claws; so, mind you supply yourself with
wings for the immigrants.
f1 All these surnames bore some
relation to the character or the build of the individual
to whom the poet applies them. —Chaerephon,
Socrates’ disciple, was of white and ashen
hue. —Opuntius was one-eyed. —Syracosius
was a braggart. —Midias had a passion
for quail-fights, and, besides, resembled that bird
physically.
Pisthetaerus Ah! by Zeus, ’tis
not the time for idling. Go as quick as possible
and fill every hamper, every basket you can find with
wings. Manes1 will bring them to me outside
the walls, where I will welcome those who present
themselves.
f1 Pisthetaerus’ servant, already mentioned.
CHORUS
This town will soon be inhabited by a crowd of men.
Pisthetaerus
If fortune favours us.
CHORUS
Folk are more and more delighted with it.
Pisthetaerus
Come, hurry up and bring them along.
CHORUS
Will not man find here everything that can please
him—wisdom,
love, the divine Graces, the sweet face of gentle
peace?
Pisthetaerus
Oh! you lazy servant! won’t you hurry yourself?
CHORUS
Let a basket of wings be brought speedily. Come,
beat him as I do,
and put some life into him; he is as lazy as an ass.
Pisthetaerus
Aye, Manes is a great craven.
CHORUS Begin by putting this heap
of wings in order; divide them in three parts according
to the birds from whom they came; the singing, the
prophetic1 and the aquatic birds; then you must take
care to distribute them to the men according to their
character.
f1 From the inspection of which
auguries were taken, e.g. the eagles, the vultures,
the crows.
Pisthetaerus (to Manes)
Oh! by the kestrels! I can keep my hands off
you no longer; you
are too slow and lazy altogether.
A parricide[1]
Oh! might I but become an eagle, who soars in the
skies! Oh! might
I fly above the azure waves of the barren sea![2]
f1 Or rather, a young man who contemplated
parricide. f2 A parody of verses in Sophocles ‘Oenomaus.’
Pisthetaerus
Ha! ’twould seem the news was true; I hear someone
coming who
talks of wings.
PARRICIDE Nothing is more charming
than to fly; I burn with desire to live under the
same laws as the birds; I am bird-mad and fly towards
you, for I want to live with you and to obey your laws.
Pisthetaerus
Which laws? The birds have many laws.
PARRICIDE
All of them; but the one that pleases me most is,
that among the
birds it is considered a fine thing to peck and strangle
one’s father.
Pisthetaerus
Aye, by Zeus! according to us, he who dares to strike
his father, while
still a chick, is a brave fellow.
PARRICIDE
And therefore I want to dwell here, for I want to
strangle my
father and inherit his wealth.
Pisthetaerus But we have also
an ancient law written in the code of the storks,
which runs thus, “When the stork father has reared
his young and has taught them to fly, the young must
in their turn support the father.”
PARRICIDE
’Tis hardly worth while coming all this distance
to be compelled
to keep my father!
Pisthetaerus No, no, young friend,
since you have come to us with such willingness, I
am going to give you these black wings, as though you
were an orphan bird; furthermore, some good advice,
that I received myself in infancy. Don’t
strike your father, but take these wings in one hand
and these spurs in the other; imagine you have a cock’s
crest on your head and go and mount guard and fight;
live on your pay and respect your father’s life.
You’re a gallant fellow! Very well, then!
Fly to Thrace and fight.[1]
f1 The Athenians were then besieging
Amphipolis in the Thracian Chalcidice.
PARRICIDE
By Bacchus! ’Tis well spoken; I will follow
your counsel.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis acting wisely, by Zeus.
Cinesias[1]
“On my light pinions I soar off to Olympus;
in its capricious
flight my Muse flutters along the thousand paths of
poetry in turn…”
f1 There was a real Cinesias—a
dythyrambic poet born at Thebes.
Pisthetaerus
This is a fellow will need a whole shipload of wings.
Cinesias (singing)
“...and being fearless and vigorous, it is seeking
fresh outlet.”
Pisthetaerus
Welcome, Cinesias, you lime-wood man![1] Why have
you come here
a-twisting your game leg in circles?
f1 The scholiast thinks that Cinesias,
who was tall and slight of build, wore a kind of corset
of lime-wood to support his waist— surely
rather a far-fetched interpretation!
Cinesias
“I want to become a bird, a tuneful nightingale.”
Pisthetaerus
Enough of that sort of ditty. Tell me what you
want.
Cinesias
Give me wings and I will fly into the topmost airs
to gather fresh
songs in the clouds, in the midst of the vapours and
the fleecy snow.
Pisthetaerus
Gather songs in the clouds?
Cinesias ’Tis on them
the whole of our latter-day art depends. The
most brilliant dithyrambs are those that flap their
wings in void space and are clothed in mist and dense
obscurity. To appreciate this, just listen.
Pisthetaerus
Oh! no, no, no!
Cinesias By Hermes! but indeed
you shall. “I shall travel through thine
ethereal empire like a winged bird, who cleaveth space
with his long neck…”
Pisthetaerus
Stop! easy all, I say![1]
f1 The Greek word used here was
the word of command employed to stop the rowers.
Cinesias “...as I soar
over the seas, carried by the breath of the winds…”
Pisthetaerus
By Zeus! but I’ll cut your breath short.
Cinesias “...now rushing
along the tracks of Notus, now nearing Boreas across
the infinite wastes of the ether.” (Pisthetaerus
BEATS him.} Ah! old man, that’s a pretty
and clever idea truly!
Pisthetaerus
What! are you not delighted to be cleaving the air?[1]
F1 Cinesias makes a bound each time that Pisthetaerus
strikes him.
Cinesias
To treat a dithyrambic poet, for whom the tribes dispute
with each
other, in this style![1]
f1 The tribes of Athens, or rather
the rich citizens belonging to them, were wont on
feast-days to give representations of dithyrambic
choruses as well as of tragedies and comedies.
Pisthetaerus
Will you stay with us and form a chorus of winged
birds as slender
as Leotrophides1 for the Cecropid tribe?
f1 Another dithyrambic poet, a man of extreme leanness.
Cinesias You are making game
of me, ’tis clear; but know that I shall never
leave you in peace if I do not have wings wherewith
to traverse the air.
An informer
What are these birds with downy feathers, who look
so pitiable
to me? Tell me, oh swallow with the long dappled
wings.[1]
f1 A parody of a hemistich from
‘Alcaeus.’ —The informer is
dissatisfied at only seeing birds of sombre plumage
and poor appearance. He would have preferred
to denounce the rich.
Pisthetaerus
Oh! but ’tis a regular invasion that threatens
us. Here comes
another of them, humming along.
INFORMER
Swallow with the long dappled wings, once more I summon
you.
Pisthetaerus
It’s his cloak I believe he’s addressing;
’faith, it stands in great
need of the swallows’ return.[1]
f1 The informer, says the scholiast,
was clothed with a ragged cloak, the tatters of which
hung down like wings, in fact, a cloak that could
not protect him from the cold and must have made him
long for the swallows’ return, i.e. the
spring.
INFORMER
Where is he who gives out wings to all comers?
Pisthetaerus
’Tis I, but you must tell me for what purpose
you want them.
INFORMER
Ask no questions. I want wings, and wings I
must have.
Pisthetaerus
Do you want to fly straight to Pellene?[1]
f1 A town in Achaia, where woollen cloaks were made.
INFORMER
I? Why, I am an accuser of the islands,[1] an
informer…
f1 His trade was to accuse the rich
citizens of the subject islands, and drag them before
the Athenian court; he explains later the special
advantages of this branch of the informer’s business.
Pisthetaerus
A fine trade, truly!
INFORMER …a hatcher of lawsuits.
Hence I have great need of wings to prowl round the
cities and drag them before justice.
Pisthetaerus
Would you do this better if you had wings?
INFORMER
No, but I should no longer fear the pirates; I should
return
with the cranes, loaded with a supply of lawsuits
by way of ballast.
Pisthetaerus
So it seems, despite all your youthful vigour, you
make it your
trade to denounce strangers?
INFORMER
Well, and why not? I don’t know how to
dig.
Pisthetaerus
But, by Zeus! there are honest ways of gaining a living
at your age
without all this infamous trickery.
INFORMER
My friend, I am asking you for wings, not for words.
Pisthetaerus
’Tis just my words that give you wings.
INFORMER
And how can you give a man wings with your words?
Pisthetaerus
’Tis thus that all first start.
INFORMER
All?
Pisthetaerus Have you not often
heard the father say to young men in the barbers’
shops, “It’s astonishing how Diitrephes’
advice has made my son fly to horse-riding.”
—“Mine,” says another, “has
flown towards tragic poetry on the wings of his imagination.”
INFORMER
So that words give wings?
Pisthetaerus Undoubtedly; words
give wings to the mind and make a man soar to heaven.
Thus I hope that my wise words will give you wings
to fly to some less degrading trade.
INFORMER
But I do not want to.
Pisthetaerus
What do you reckon on doing then?
INFORMER I won’t belie my breeding;
from generation to generation we have lived by informing.
Quick, therefore, give me quickly some light, swift
hawk or kestrel wings, so that I may summon the islanders,
sustain the accusation here, and haste back there again
on flying pinions.
Pisthetaerus
I see. In this way the stranger will be condemned
even before
he appears.
INFORMER
That’s just it.
Pisthetaerus
And while he is on his way here by sea, you will be
flying
to the islands to despoil him of his property.
INFORMER
You’ve hit it, precisely; I must whirl hither
and thither like
a perfect humming-top.
Pisthetaerus
I catch the idea. Wait, i’ faith, I’ve
got some fine Corcyraean
wings.[1] How do you like them?
f1 That is, whips—Corcyra
being famous for these articles.
INFORMER
Oh! woe is me! Why, ’tis a whip!
Pisthetaerus
No, no; these are the wi