The Birds By Aristophanes

[Translator uncredited. Footnotes have been retained because they provide the meanings of Greek names, terms and ceremonies and explain puns and references otherwise lost in translation. Occasional Greek words in the footnotes have not been included. Footnote numbers, in brackets, start anew at [1] for each piece of dialogue, and each footnote follows immediately the dialogue to which it refers, labeled thus: f[1]. INTRODUCTION ‘The Birds’ differs markedly from all the other Comedies of Aristophanes which have come down to us in subject and general conception. It is just an extravaganza pure and simple–a graceful, whimsical theme chosen expressly for the sake of the opportunities it afforded of bright, amusing dialogue, pleasing lyrical interludes, and charming displays of brilliant stage effects and pretty dresses. Unlike other plays of the same Author, there is here apparently no serious political MOTIF underlying the surface burlesque and buffoonery. Some critics, it is true, profess to find in it a reference to the unfortunate Sicilian Expedition, then in progress, and a prophecy of its failure and the political downfall of Alcibiades. But as a matter of fact, the whole thing seems rather an attempt on the dramatist’s part to relieve the overwrought minds of his fellow- citizens, anxious and discouraged at the unsatisfactory reports from before Syracuse, by a work conceived in a lighter vein than usual and mainly unconnected with contemporary realities. The play was produced in the year 414 B.C., just when success or failure in Sicily hung in the balance, though already the outlook was gloomy, and many circumstances pointed to impending disaster. Moreover, the public conscience was still shocked and perturbed over the mysterious affair of the mutilation of the Hermae, which had occurred immediately before the sailing of the fleet, and strongly suspicious of Alcibiades’ participation in the outrage. In spite of the inherent charm of the subject, the splendid outbursts of lyrical poetry in some of the choruses and the beauty of the scenery and costumes, ‘The Birds’ failed to win the first prize. This was acclaimed to a play of Aristophanes’ rival, Amipsias, the title of which, ‘The Comastoe,’ or ‘Revellers,’ “seems to imply that the chief interest was derived from direct allusions to the outrage above mentioned and to the individuals suspected to have been engaged in it.” For this reason, which militated against its immediate success, viz. the absence of direct allusion to contemporary politics– there are, of course, incidental references here and there to topics and personages of the day–the play appeals perhaps more than any other of our Author’s productions to the modern reader. Sparkling wit, whimsical fancy, poetic charm, are of all ages, and can be appreciated as readily by ourselves as by an Athenian audience of two thousand years ago, though, of course, much is inevitably lost “without the important adjuncts of music, scenery, dresses and what we may call ‘spectacle’ generally, which we know in this instance to have been on the most magnificent scale.” The plot is this. Euelpides and Pisthetaerus, two old Athenians, disgusted with the litigiousness, wrangling and sycophancy of their countrymen, resolve upon quitting Attica. Having heard of the fame of Epops (the hoopoe), sometime called Tereus, and now King of the Birds, they determine, under the direction of a raven and a jackdaw, to seek from him and his subject birds a city free from all care and strife.” Arrived at the Palace of Epops, they knock, and Trochilus (the wren), in a state of great flutter, as he mistakes them for fowlers, opens the door and informs them that his Majesty is asleep. When he awakes, the strangers appear before him, and after listening to a long and eloquent harangue on the superior attractions of a residence among the birds, they propose a notable scheme of their own to further enhance its advantages and definitely secure the sovereignty of the universe now exercised by the gods of Olympus. The birds are summoned to meet in general council. They come flying up from all quarters of the heavens, and after a brief mis- understanding, during which they come near tearing the two human envoys to pieces, they listen to the exposition of the latters’ plan. This is nothing less than the building of a new city, to be called Nephelococcygia, or ‘Cloud-cuckoo-town,’ between earth and heaven, to be garrisoned and guarded by the birds in such a way as to intercept all communication of the gods with their worshippers on earth. All steam of sacrifice will be prevented from rising to Olympus, and the Immortals will very soon be starved into an acceptance of any terms proposed. The new Utopia is duly constructed, and the daring plan to secure the sovereignty is in a fair way to succeed. Meantime various quacks and charlatans, each with a special scheme for improving things, arrive from earth, and are one after the other exposed and dismissed. Presently arrives Prometheus, who informs Epops of the desperate straits to which the gods are by this time reduced, and advises him to push his claims and demand the hand of Basileia (Dominion), the handmaid of Zeus. Next an embassy from the Olympians appears on the scene, consisting of Heracles, Posidon and a god from the savage regions of the Triballians. After some disputation, it is agreed that all reasonable demands of the birds are to be granted, while Pisthetaerus is to have Basileia as his bride. The comedy winds up with the epithalamium in honour of the nuptials. DRAMATIS PERSONAE EUELPIDESPISTHETAERUSEPOPS (the Hoopoe)TROCHILUS, Servant to EpopsPHOENICOPTERUSHERALDSA PRIESTA POETA PROPHETMETON, a GeometricianA COMMISSIONERA DEALER IN DECREESIRISA PARRICIDECINESIAS, a Dithyrambic BardAN INFORMERPROMETHEUSPOSIDONTRIBALLUSHERACLESSLAVES OF PISTHETAERUSMESSENGERSCHORUS OF BIRDS 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? f[1] 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? EUELPIDESWhy, you wretch, we are wandering at random, we are exerting ourselves only to return to the same spot; ’tis labour lost. PISTHETAERUSTo think that I should trust to this crow, which has made me cover more than a thousand furlongs! EUELPIDESAnd that I to this jay, which has torn every nail from my fingers! PISTHETAERUSIf only I knew where we were…. EUELPIDESCould you find your country again from here? PISTHETAERUSNo, I feel quite sure I could not, any more than could Execestides[1] find his. f[1] A stranger who wanted to pass as an Athenian, although coming originally for a far-away barbarian country. EUELPIDESOh dear! oh dear! PISTHETAERUSAye, aye, my friend, ’tis indeed the road of “oh dears” we are following. EUELPIDESThat 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. f[1] 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. f[2] An Athenian who had some resemblance to a jay–so says the scholiast, at any rate. PISTHETAERUSNot even the vestige of a track in any direction. EUELPIDESAnd what does the crow say about the road to follow? PISTHETAERUSBy Zeus, it no longer croaks the same thing it did. EUELPIDESAnd which way does it tell us to go now? PISTHETAERUSIt says that, by dint of gnawing, it will devour my fingers. EUELPIDESWhat 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 boughs[3] 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. f[1] Literally, ‘to go to the crows,’ a proverbial expression equivalent to our ‘going to the devil.’f[2] They leave Athens because of their hatred of lawsuits and informers; this is the especial failing of the Athenians satirized in ‘The Wasps.’ f[3] Myrtle boughs were used in sacrifices, and the founding of every colony was started by a sacrifice. PISTHETAERUSHere! look! EUELPIDESWhat’s the matter? PISTHETAERUSWhy, the crow has been pointing me to something up there for some time now. EUELPIDESAnd 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. PISTHETAERUSDo you know what to do? Knock your leg against this rock. EUELPIDESAnd you your head to double the noise. PISTHETAERUSWell then use a stone instead; take one and hammer with it. EUELPIDESGood idea! Ho there, within! Slave! slave! PISTHETAERUSWhat’s that, friend! You say, “slave,” to summon Epops! It would be much better to shout, “Epops, Epops!” EUELPIDESWell then, Epops! Must I knock again? Epops! TROCHILUSWho’s there? Who calls my master? PISTHETAERUSApollo the Deliverer! what an enormous beak![1] f[1] The actors wore masks made to resemble the birds they were supposed to represent. TROCHILUSGood god! they are bird-catchers. EUELPIDESThe mere sight of him petrifies me with terror. What a horrible monster. TROCHILUSWoe to you! EUELPIDESBut we are not men. TROCHILUSWhat are you, then? EUELPIDESI am the Fearling, an African bird. TROCHILUSYou talk nonsense. EUELPIDESWell, then, just ask it of my feet.[1] f[1] Fear had had disastrous effects upon Euelpides’ internal economy, and this his feet evidenced. TROCHILUSAnd this other one, what bird is it? PISTHETAERUSI? I am a Cackling,[1] from the land of the pheasants. f[1] The same mishap had occurred to Pisthetaerus. EUELPIDESBut you yourself, in the name of the gods! what animal are you? TROCHILUSWhy, I am a slave-bird. EUELPIDESWhy, have you been conquered by a cock? TROCHILUSNo, but when my master was turned into a peewit, he begged me to become a bird too, to follow and to serve him. EUELPIDESDoes 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. EUELPIDESThis is, then, truly a running-bird.[1] Come, Trochilus, do us the kindness to call your master. f[1] The Greek word for a wren is derived from the same root as ‘to run.’ TROCHILUSWhy, he has just fallen asleep after a feed of myrtle-berries and a few grubs. EUELPIDESNever mind; wake him up. TROCHILUSI an certain he will be angry. However, I will wake him to please you. PISTHETAERUSYou cursed brute! why, I am almost dead with terror! EUELPIDESOh! my god! ’twas sheer fear that made me lose my jay. PISTHETAERUSAh! you great coward! were you so frightened that you let go your jay? EUELPIDESAnd did you not lose your crow, when you fell sprawling on the ground? Pray tell me that. PISTHETAERUSNo, no. EUELPIDESWhere is it, then? PISTHETAERUSIt has flown away. EUELPIDESThen you did not let it go? Oh! you brave fellow! EPOPSOpen the forest,[1] that I may go out! f[1] 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. EUELPIDESBy Heracles! what a creature! what plumage! What means this triple crest? EPOPSWho wants me? EUELPIDESThe twelve great gods have used you ill, meseems. EPOPSAre you chaffing me about my feathers? I have been a man, strangers. EUELPIDES‘Tis not you we are jeering at. EPOPSAt what, then? EUELPIDESWhy, ’tis your beak that looks so odd to us. EPOPSThis is how Sophocles outrages me in his tragedies. Know, I once was Tereus.[1] f[1] Sophocles had written a tragedy about Tereus, in which, no doubt, the king finally appears as a hoopoe. EUELPIDESYou were Tereus, and what are you now? a bird or a peacock?[1] f[1] [O]ne would expect the question to be “bird or man.” –Are you a peacock? The hoopoe resembles the peacock inasmuch as both have crests. EPOPSI am a bird. EUELPIDESThen where are your feathers? For I don’t see them. EPOPSThey have fallen off. EUELPIDESThrough illness? EPOPSNo. All birds moult their feathers, you know, every winter, and others grow in their place. But tell me, who are you? EUELPIDESWe? We are mortals. EPOPS From what country? EUELPIDES From the land of the beautiful galleys.[1] f[1] Athens. EPOPSAre you dicasts?[1] f[1] The Athenians were madly addicted to lawsuits. (See ‘The Wasps.’) EUELPIDESNo, if anything, we are anti-dicasts. EPOPSIs that kind of seed sown among you?[1] f[1] As much as to say, ‘Then you have such things as anti-dicasts?’ And Euelpides practically replaces, ‘Very few.’ EUELPIDESYou have to look hard to find even a little in our fields. EPOPSWhat brings you here? EUELPIDESWe wish to pay you a visit. EPOPSWhat for? EUELPIDESBecause 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. EPOPSAnd are you looking for a greater city than Athens? EUELPIDESNo, not a greater, but one more pleasant to dwell in. EPOPSThen you are looking for an aristocratic country. EUELPIDESI? Not at all! I hold the son of Scellias in horror.[1] f[1] His name was Aristocrates; he was a general and commanded a fleet sent in aid of Corcyra. EPOPSBut, after all, what sort of city would please you best? EUELPIDESA 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.” EPOPSAh! that’s what may be called being fond of hardships! And what say you? PISTHETAERUSMy tastes are similar. EPOPSAnd they are? PISTHETAERUSI 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?” EPOPSAh! wag, I see you are fond of suffering. But there is a city of delights, such as you want. ‘Tis on the Red Sea. EUELPIDESOh, no. Not a sea-port, where some fine morning the Salaminian[1] galley can appear, bringing a writ-server along. Have you no Greek town you can propose to us? f[1] 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. EPOPSWhy not choose Lepreum in Elis for your settlement? EUELPIDESBy Zeus! I could not look at Lepreum without disgust, because of Melanthius.[1] f[1] A tragic poet, who was a leper; there is a play, of course, on the word Lepreum. EPOPSThen, again, there is the Opuntian, where you could live. EUELPIDESI would not be Opuntian[1] for a talent. But come, what is it like to live with the birds? You should know pretty well. f[1] An allusion to Opuntius, who was one-eyed. EPOPSWhy, ’tis not a disagreeable life. In the first place, one has no purse. EUELPIDESThat does away with much roguery. EPOPSFor food the gardens yield us white sesame, myrtle-berries, poppies and mint. EUELPIDESWhy, ’tis the life of the newly-wed indeed.[1] f[1] The newly-married ate a sesame-cake, decorated with garlands of myrtle, poppies and mint. PISTHETAERUSHa! I am beginning to see a great plan, which will transfer the supreme power to the birds, if you will but take my advice. EPOPSTake your advice? In what way? PISTHETAERUSIn 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.” EPOPSBy Zeus himself! your jest hits the mark. What then is to be done? PISTHETAERUSFound a city. EPOPSWe birds? But what sort of city should we build? PISTHETAERUSOh, really, really! ’tis spoken like a fool! Look down. EPOPSI am looking. PISTHETAERUSNow look upwards. EPOPSI am looking. PISTHETAERUSTurn your head round. EPOPSAh! ’twill be pleasant for me, if I end in twisting my neck! PISTHETAERUSWhat have you seen? EPOPSThe clouds and the sky. PISTHETAERUSVery well! is not this the pole of the birds then? EPOPSHow their pole? PISTHETAERUSOr, 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 f[1] From [the word meaning] ‘to turn.’ f[2] The Greek words for ‘pole’ and ‘city’ only differ by a single letter. EPOPSHow so? PISTHETAERUSThe air is ‘twixt earth and heaven. When we want to go to Delphi, we ask the Boeotians[1] 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. f[1] Boeotia separated Attica from Phocis. EPOPSBy 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. f[1] He swears by the powers that are to him dreadful. PISTHETAERUSWho will explain the matter to them? EPOPSYou must yourself. Before I came they were quite ignorant, but since I have lived with them I have taught them to speak. PISTHETAERUSBut how can they be gathered together? EPOPSEasily. 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. f[1] As already stated, according to the legend accepted by Aristophanes, it was Procne who was turned into the nightengale. PISTHETAERUSMy dear bird, lose no time, I beg. Fly at once into the coppice and awaken Procne. EPOPSChase 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.) f[1] The son of Tereus and Procne. PISTHETAERUSOh! by Zeus! what a throat that little bird possesses. He has filled the whole coppice with honey-sweet melody! EUELPIDESHush! PISTHETAERUSWhat’s the matter? EUELPIDESWill you keep silence? PISTHETAERUSWhat for? EUELPIDESEpops 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. PISTHETAERUSCan you see any bird? EUELPIDESBy 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. PHOENICOPTERUSTorotina, torotina. PISTHETAERUSHold, friend, here is another bird. EUELPIDESI’ faith, yes, ’tis a bird, but of what kind? Isn’t it a peacock? PISTHETAERUSEpops will tell us. What is this bird? EPOPS‘Tis not one of those you are used to seeing; ’tis a bird from the marshes. PISTHETAERUSOh! oh! but he is very handsome with his wings as crimson as flame. EPOPSUndoubtedly; indeed he is called flamingo.[1] f[1] An African bird, that comes to the southern countries of Europe, to Greece, Italy, and Spain; it is even seen in Provence. EUELPIDESHi! I say! You! PISTHETAERUSWhat are you shouting for? EUELPIDESWhy, here’s another bird. PISTHETAERUSAye, indeed; ’tis a foreign bird too. What is this bird from beyond the mountains with a look as solemn as it is stupid? EPOPSHe is called the Mede.[1] f[1] Aristophanes amusingly mixes up real birds with people and individuals, whom he represents in the form of birds; he is personifying the Medians here. PISTHETAERUSThe Mede! But, by Heracles, how, if a Mede, has he flown here without a camel? EUELPIDESHere’s another bird with a crest. PISTHETAERUSAh! that’s curious. I say, Epops, you are not the only one of your kind then? EPOPSThis 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. f[1] 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. f[2] 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. PISTHETAERUSThen this bird is Callias! Why, what a lot of his feathers he has lost![1] f[1] This Callias, who must not be confounded with the foe of Pisistratus, had ruined himself. EPOPSThat’s because he is honest; so the informers set upon him and the women too pluck out his feathers. PISTHETAERUSBy Posidon, do you see that many-coloured bird? What is his name? EPOPSThis one? ‘Tis the glutton. PISTHETAERUSIs 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] f[1] Cleonymus had cast away his shield; he was as great a glutton as he was a coward.f[2] A race in which the track had to be circled twice. EPOPSThey are like the Carians, who cling to the crests of their mountains for greater safety.[1] f[1] A people of Asia Minor; when pursued by the Ionians they took refuge in the mountains. PISTHETAERUSOh, Posidon! do you see what swarms of birds are gathering here? EUELPIDESBy Phoebus! what a cloud! The entrance to the stage is no longer visible, so closely do they fly together. PISTHETAERUSHere is the partridge. EUELPIDESFaith! there is the francolin. PISTHETAERUSThere is the poachard. EUELPIDESHere is the kingfisher. And over yonder? EPOPS‘Tis the barber. EUELPIDESWhat? a bird a barber? PISTHETAERUSWhy, Sporgilus is one.[1] Here comes the owl. f[1] An Athenian barber. EUELPIDESAnd who is it brings an owl to Athens?[1] f[1] 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.’ PISTHETAERUSHere 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. EUELPIDESOh! 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. PISTHETAERUSWhy, so they are. CHORUSPopopopopopopopoi. Where is he who called me? Where am I to find him? EPOPSI have been waiting for you this long while! I never fail in my word to my friends. CHORUSTitititititititi. What good thing have you to tell me? EPOPSSomething 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. CHORUSWhere? What? What are you saying? EPOPSI say, two old men have come from the abode of men to propose a vast and splendid scheme to us. CHORUSOh! ’tis a horrible, unheard-of crime! What are you saying? EPOPSNay! never let my words scare you. CHORUSWhat have you done then? EPOPSI have welcomed two men, who wish to live with us. CHORUSAnd you have dared to do that! EPOPSAye, and am delighted at having done so. CHORUSWhere are they? EPOPSIn your midst, as I am. CHORUSAh! 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. EUELPIDESYou are the sole cause of all our trouble. Why did you bring me from down yonder? PISTHETAERUSTo have you with me. EUELPIDESSay rather to have me melt into tears. PISTHETAERUSGo to! you are talking nonsense. EUELPIDESHow so? PISTHETAERUSHow will you be able to cry when once your eyes are pecked out? CHORUSIo! 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. EUELPIDESThis is the fatal moment. Where shall I fly to, unfortunate wretch that I am? PISTHETAERUSStay! stop here! EUELPIDESThat they may tear me to pieces? PISTHETAERUSAnd how do you think to escape them? EUELPIDESI don’t know at all. PISTHETAERUSCome, I will tell you. We must stop and fight them. Let us arm ourselves with these stew-pots. EUELPIDESWhy with the stew-pots? PISTHETAERUSThe owl will not attack us.[1] f[1] 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. EUELPIDESBut do you see all those hooked claws? PISTHETAERUSSeize the spit and pierce the foe on your side. EUELPIDESAnd how about my eyes? PISTHETAERUSProtect them with this dish or this vinegar-pot. EUELPIDESOh! what cleverness! what inventive genius! You are a great general, even greater than Nicias,[1] where stratagem is concerned. f[1] 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. CHORUSForward, forward, charge with your beaks! Come, no delay. Tear, pluck, strike, flay them, and first of all smash the stew-pot. EPOPSOh, 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] f[1] Procne, the daughter of Pandion, King of Athens. CHORUSAre wolves to be spared? Are they not our most mortal foes? So let us punish them. EPOPSIf they are your foes by nature, they are your friends in heart, and they come here to give you useful advice. CHORUSAdvice or a useful word from their lips, from them, the enemies of my forebears! EPOPSThe 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. CHORUSWell then, I agree, let us first hear them, for ’tis best; one can even learn something in an enemy’s school. PISTHETAERUSTheir wrath seems to cool. Draw back a little. EPOPS‘Tis only justice, and you will thank me later. CHORUSNever have we opposed your advice up to now. PISTHETAERUSThey 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. EUELPIDESYou are right. But where shall we be buried, if we die? PISTHETAERUSIn 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. f[1] 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. f[2] A town in Western Argolis, where the Athenians had been recently defeated. The somewhat similar work in Greek signifies ‘birds.’ CHORUSReturn 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. EPOPSAre you calling me? What do you want of me? CHORUSWho are they? From what country? EPOPSStrangers, who have come from Greece, the land of the wise. CHORUSAnd what fate has led them hither to the land of the birds? EPOPSTheir love for you and their wish to share your kind of life; to dwell and remain with you always. CHORUSIndeed, and what are their plans? EPOPSThey are wonderful, incredible, unheard of. CHORUSWhy, 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? EPOPSThey 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. CHORUSAre they mad? EPOPSThey are the sanest people in the world. CHORUSClever men? EPOPSThe slyest of foxes, cleverness its very self, men of the world, cunning, the cream of knowing folk. CHORUSTell them to speak and speak quickly; why, as I listen to you, I am beside myself with delight. EPOPSHere, 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. f[1] Epops is addressing the two slaves, no doubt Xanthias and Manes, who are mentioned later on. PISTHETAERUSNot 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… CHORUSYou mean the…(PUTS FINGER TO BOTTOM) Oh! be quite at ease. PISTHETAERUSNo, I mean my eyes. CHORUSAgreed. PISTHETAERUSSwear it. CHORUSI swear it and, if I keep my promise, let judges and spectators give me the victory unanimously. PISTHETAERUSIt is a bargain. CHORUSAnd if I break my word, may I succeed by one vote only. HERALDHearken, ye people! Hoplites, pick up your weapons and return to your firesides; do not fail to read the decrees of dismissal we have posted. CHORUSMan 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 breakthe truce, –until you have told us all. PISTHETAERUSI 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] f[1] 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. EUELPIDESIs it a question of feasting? What does it all mean? PISTHETAERUSBy 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… CHORUSWe 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. CHORUSWhat, older than the Earth! PISTHETAERUSBy Phoebus, yes. CHORUSBy 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. EUELPIDESSo that the lark’s father is buried at Cephalae.[1] f[1] A deme of Attica. In Greek the word also means ‘heads,’ and hence the pun. EPOPSHence, if we existed before the Earth, before the gods, the kingship belongs to us by right of priority. EUELPIDESUndoubtedly, but sharpen your beak well; Zeus won’t be in a hurry to hand over his sceptre to the woodpecker. PISTHETAERUSIt 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. f[1] 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. EUELPIDESFor this reason also, even to-day, he alone of all the birds wears his tiara straight on his head, like the Great King.[1] f[1] All Persians wore the tiara, but always on one side; the Great King alone wore it straight on his head. PISTHETAERUSHe 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. EUELPIDESI 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. f[1] 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. PISTHETAERUSFormerly also the kite was ruler and king over the Greeks. EPOPSThe Greeks? PISTHETAERUSAnd when he was king, ’twas he who first taught them to fall on their knees before the kites.[1] f[1] The appearance of the kite in Greece betokened the return of springtime; it was therefore worshipped as a symbol of that season. EUELPIDESBy Zeus! ’tis what I did myself one day on seeing a kite; but at the moment I was on my knees, and leaning backwards[1] with mouth agape, I bolted an obolus and was forced to carry my bag home empty.[2] f[1] To look at the kite, who no doubt was flying high in the sky. f[2] 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 PISTHETAERUSThe 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] f[1] In Phoenicia and Egypt the cuckoo makes its appearance about harvest-time. EUELPIDESHence no doubt the proverb, “Cuckoo! cuckoo! go to the fields, ye circumcised.”[1] f[1] This was an Egyptian proverb, meaning, ‘When the cuckoo sings we go harvesting.’ Both the Phoenicians and the Egyptians practised circumcision. PISTHETAERUSSo 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] f[1] The staff, called a sceptre, generally terminated in a piece of carved work, representing a flower, a fruit, and most often a bird. EUELPIDESThat 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 Lysicrates[1] to see if he got any present. f[1] A general accused of treachery. The bird watches Lysicrates, because, according to Pisthetaerus, he had a right to a share of the presents. PISTHETAERUSBut 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. f[1] It is thus that Phidias represents his Olympian Zeus. EUELPIDESBy Demeter, ’tis well spoken. But what are all these birds doing in heaven? PISTHETAERUSWhen 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 Lampon[1] swears by the goose,when he wants to lie….Thus ’tis clear that you were great and sacred, but now youare 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. f[1] 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. CHORUSMan, 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. PISTHETAERUSFirst 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. EPOPSOh, Cebriones! oh, Porphyrion![1] what a terribly strong place! f[1] 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. PISTHETAERUSTh[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. f[1] 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. f[2] Because water is the duck’s domain, as it is that of Posidon. f[3] Because the gull, like Heracles, is voracious. f[4] The Germans still call it ‘Zaunkonig’ and the French ‘roitelet,’ both names thus containing the idea of ‘king.’ EUELPIDESThis notion of an immolated gnat delights me! And now let the great Zeus thunder! EPOPSBut how will mankind recognize us as gods and not as jays? Us, who have wings and fly? PISTHETAERUSYou 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. f[1] 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. EUELPIDESBy Zeus, she’ll take good care she does not, and you will see her inventing a thousand excuses. PISTHETAERUSThe 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] f[1] In sacrifices. EUELPIDESOh! don’t do that! Wait first until I have sold my two young bullocks. PISTHETAERUSIf 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. EPOPSName me one of these then. PISTHETAERUSFirstly, 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. EPOPSAnd how shall we give wealth to mankind? This is their strongest passion. PISTHETAERUSWhen 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. EPOPSNo more shall perish? How is that? PISTHETAERUSWhen 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.” EUELPIDESI shall buy a trading-vessel and go to sea, I will not stay with you. PISTHETAERUSYou 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] f[1] An Athenian proverb. EUELPIDESI shall sell my boat and buy a spade to unearth the vessels. EPOPSAnd how are we to give them health, which belongs to the gods? PISTHETAERUSIf they are happy, is not that the chief thing towards health? The miserable man is never well. EPOPSOld Age also dwells in Olympus. How will they get at it? Must they die in early youth? PISTHETAERUSWhy, 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? EUELPIDESAh! ah! these are far better kings for us than Zeus! PISTHETAERUSFar 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. f[1] A celebrated temple to Zeus in an oasis of Libya. CHORUSOld 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. EPOPSBy 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. f[1] 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. PISTHETAERUSThat is soon done; my name is Pisthetaerus. EPOPSAnd his? PISTHETAERUSEuelpides, of the deme of Thria. EPOPSGood! and good luck to you. PISTHETAERUSWe accept the omen. EPOPSCome in here. PISTHETAERUSVery well, ’tis you who lead us and must introduce us. EPOPSCome then. PISTHETAERUSOh! my god! do come back here. Hi! tell us how we are to follow you. You can fly, but we cannot. EPOPSWell, well. PISTHETAERUSRemember Aesop’s fables. It is told there, that the fox fared very ill, because he had made an alliance with the eagle. EPOPSBe at ease. You shall eat a certain root and wings will grow on your shoulders. PISTHETAERUSThen let us enter. Xanthias and Manes,[1] pick up our baggage. f[1] Servants of Pisthetaerus and Euelpides. CHORUSHi! Epops! do you hear me? EPOPSWhat’s the matter? CHORUSTake 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. PISTHETAERUSOh! 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] f[1] 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. EPOPSLet is be as you desire. Come forth, Procne, show yourself to these strangers. PISTHETAERUSOh! great Zeus! what a beautiful little bird! what a dainty form! what brilliant plumage![1] f[1] The actor, representing Procne, was dressed out as a courtesan, but wore a mask of a bird. EUELPIDESDo you know how dearly I should like to splint her legs for her? PISTHETAERUSShe is dazzling all over with gold, like a young girl.[1] f[1] Young unmarried girls wore golden ornaments; the apparel of married women was much simpler. EUELPIDESOh! how I should like to kiss her! PISTHETAERUSWhy, wretched man, she has two little sharp points on her beak! EUELPIDESI 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. EPOPSLet us go in. PISTHETAERUSLead the way, and may success attend us. CHORUSLovable 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 Prodicus[3] 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 Orestes[6] to weave a tunic, so that the rigorous coldmay not drive him any more to strip other folk. When the kite reappears, he tellsof 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 PhoebusApollo.[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 omen[8] 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] f[1] The actor, representing Procne, was a flute-player. f[2] The parabasis.f[3] 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. f[4] Lovers were wont to make each other presents of birds. The cock and the goose are mentioned, of course, in jest. f[5] i.e. that it gave notice of the approach of winter, during which season the Ancients did not venture to sea. f[6] A notorious robber.f[7] 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. f[8] The Greek word for ‘omen’ is the same as that for ‘bird.’ f[9] A satire on the passion of the Greeks for seeing an omen in everything.f[10] An imitation of the nightingale’s song. f[11] God of the groves and wilds.f[12] The ‘Mother of the Gods’; roaming the mountains, she held dances, always attended by Pan and his accompanying rout of Fauns and Satyrs. f[13] An allusion to cock-fighting; the birds are armed with brazen spurs. f[14] An allusion to the spots on this bird, which resemble the scars left by a branding iron.f[15] He was of Asiatic origin, but wished to pass for an Athenian. f[16] Or Philamnon, King of Thrace; the scholiast remarks that the Phrygians and the Thracians had a common origin. f[17] The Greek word here is also the name of a little bird. f[18] 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.f[19] He had become a senator. PISTHETAERUSHalloa! What’s this? By Zeus! I never saw anything so funny in all my life.[1] f[1] Pisthetaerus and Euelpides now both return with wings. EUELPIDESWhat makes you laugh? PISTHETAERUS‘Tis your bits of wings. D’you know what you look like? Like a goose painted by some dauber-fellow. EUELPIDESAnd 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] f[1] 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. EPOPSCome now, what must be done? PISTHETAERUSFirst give our city a great and famous name, then sacrifice to the gods. EUELPIDESI think so too. EPOPSLet’s see. What shall our city be called? PISTHETAERUSWill you have a high-sounding Laconian name? Shall we call it Sparta? EUELPIDESWhat! call my town Sparta? Why, I would not use esparto for my bed,[1] even though I had nothing but bands of rushes. f[1] 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. PISTHETAERUSWell then, what name can you suggest? EUELPIDESSome name borrowed from the clouds, from these lofty regions in which we dwell–in short, some well-known name. PISTHETAERUSDo you like Nephelococcygia?[1] f[1] 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. EPOPSOh! capital! truly ’tis a brilliant thought! EUELPIDESIs it in Nephelococcygia that all the wealth of Theovenes[1] and most of Aeschines’[2] is? f[1] He was a boaster nicknamed ‘smoke,’ because he promised a great deal and never kept his word.f[2] Also mentioned in ‘The Wasps.’ PISTHETAERUSNo, ’tis rather the plain of Phlegra,[1] where the gods withered the pride of the sons of the Earth with their shafts. f[1] Because the war of the Titans against the gods was only a fiction of the poets. EUELPIDESOh! what a splendid city! But what god shall be its patron? for whom shall we weave the peplus?[1] f[1] A sacred cloth, with which the statue of Athene in the Acropolis was draped. PISTHETAERUSWhy not choose Athene Polias?[1] f[1] Meaning, to be patron-goddess of the city. Athene had a temple of this name. EUELPIDESOh! what a well-ordered town ‘twould be to have a female deity armed from head to foot, while Clisthenes[1] was spinning! f[1] An Athenian effeminate, frequently ridiculed by Aristophanes. PISTHETAERUSWho then shall guard the Pelargicon?[1] f[1] This was the name of the wall surrounding the Acropolis. EPOPSOne of us, a bird of Persian strain, who is everywhere proclaimed to be the bravest of all, a true chick of Ares.[1] f[1] i.e. the fighting cock. EUELPIDESOh! noble chick! What a well-chosen god for a rocky home! PISTHETAERUSCome! 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. f[1] To waken the sentinels, who might else have fallen asleep. –There are several merry contradictions in the various parts of this list of injunctions. EUELPIDESAs for yourself, remain here, and may the plague take you for a troublesome fellow! PISTHETAERUSGo, 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. CHORUSI 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] f[1] 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.