University of Virginia Library

ARGUMENT.

Euelpides and Pisthetærus, two ancient Athenians, thoroughly weary of the folly, injustice, and litigious temper of their countrymen, determine to leave Attica for good and all; and having heard much of the fame of Epops, king of the birds, who was once a man under the

name of Tereus, and had married an Athenian lady, they pack up a few necessary utensils, and set out for the court of that prince, under the conduct of a jay and a raven, birds of great distinction in augury, without whose direction the Greeks never undertook any thing of consequence. Their errand is to inquire of the birds, who are the greatest travellers of any nation, where they may meet with a quiet, easy settlement, far from all prosecutions, law-suits, and sycophant informers, to pass the remainder of their lives in peace and liberty.

ACT I.—SCENE I.

The scene is a wild, unfrequented country, which terminates in mountains; there the old men are seen, (accompanied by two slaves, who carry their little baggage), fatigued and fretting at the carelessness of their guides, who, though they cost them a matter of a groat in the market, are good for nothing but to bite them by the fingers, and lead them out of the way. They travel

on however, till they come to the foot of the rocks, which stop up their passage, and put them to their wits' end. Here the raven croaks, and the jay chatters and looks up into the air, as much as to say that this is the place: upon which they knock with a stone and with their heels (as though it were against a door) against the side of the mountain.

SCENE II.

Trochilus, a bird that waits upon Epops, appears above; he is frightened at the sight of two men, and they are much more so at the length of his beak and the fierceness of his aspect. He takes them for fowlers; and they insist upon it, that they are not men but birds. In their confusion, their guides, whom they held in a string, escape and fly away. Epops, during this, is asleep within, after having dined upon a dish of beetles and berries: their noise wakens him, and he comes out of the grove.

SCENE III.

At the strangeness of his figure they are divided between fear and laughing. They tell him their errand, and he gives them the choice of several cities fit for their purpose, one particularly on the coast of the Red Sea, all which they refuse, for many comical reasons. He

tells them the happiness of living among the birds; they are much pleased with the liberty and simplicity of it; and Pisthetærus, a shrewd old fellow, proposes a scheme to improve it, and make them a far more powerful and considerable nation. Epops is struck with the project, and calls up his consort, the nightingale, to summon all his people together with her voice. They sing a fine ode.

SCENE IV.

The birds come flying down, at first one by one, and perch here and there about the scene; and at last the  Chorus , in a whole body, come hopping, and fluttering, and twittering in. At the sight of the two men they are in great tumult, and think that their king has betrayed them to the enemy. They determine to tear the two old men to pieces, draw themselves up in battle array, and are giving the word to fall on. Euelpides and Pisthetærus, in all the terrors of death, after upbraiding each the other for bringing him into such distress, and trying in vain to escape, assume courage from mere despair, seize upon the kitchen-furniture which they had brought with them, and armed with pipkins for helmets, and with spits for lances, they present a resolute front to the enemy's phalanx. On the point of battle Epops interposes, pleads hard for his two guests, who are, he

says, his wife's relations, and people of wonderful abilities, and well-affected to their commonwealth. His eloquence has its effect: the birds grow less violent, they enter into a truce with the old men, and both sides lay down their arms. Pisthetærus, upon the authority of Æsop's fables, proves to them the great antiquity of their nation; that they were born before the creation of the earth, and before the gods, and once reigned over all countries, as he shows from several testimonies and monuments of different nations; that the cock wears his tiara erect, like the Persian king, and that all mankind start out of their beds at his command; that when the kite makes his first appearance in the spring, every one prostrates himself on the ground before it; that the Egyptians and Phœnicians set about their harvest as soon as the cuckoo is heard; that all kings bear an eagle on their sceptre, and many of the gods carry a bird on their head; that many great men swear by the goose, &c. &c. When he has revived in them the memory of their ancient empire, he laments their present despicable condition, and the affronts put upon them by mankind. They are convinced of what he says, applaud his oration, and desire his advice. He proposes that they shall unite, and build a city in the mid-air, whereby all commerce will effectually be stopped between heaven and earth: the gods will no longer be able to visit at ease their Semeles and Alcmenas below, nor feast on the fume of sacrifices daily sent up to them, nor men enjoy the benefit of the seasons, nor the fruits of the earth, without permission from those winged deities of the middle region. He shows how mankind will lose nothing by this change of government; that the birds may be worshipped at a far less expense, nothing more than a few berries or a handful of corn; that they will need no sumptuous temples; that by their great knowledge of futurity they will direct their good votaries in all their expeditions, so as they can never fail of success; that the ravens, famed for the length of their lives, may make a present of a century or two to their worshippers; and, besides, the birds will ever be within call, when invoked, and not sit pouting in the clouds, and keeping their state so many miles off. The scheme is highly admired, and the two old men are to be made free of the city, and each of them is to be adorned with a pair of wings at the public charge. Epops invites them to his nest-royal, and entertains them nobly. The nightingale in the meantime joins the  Chorus  without, and the parabasis begins.

SCENE V.

They sing their own nobility and ancient grandeur, their prophetic skill, the benefits they do mankind

already, and all the good which they design them; they descant upon the power of music, in which they are such great masters, and intermix many strokes of satire; they show the advantages of flying, and apply it to several whimsical cases; and they invite all such as would be free from the heavy tyranny of human laws, to live among them, where it is no sin to beat one's father, &c. &c.

ACT II.—SCENE I.

The old men, now become birds, and magnificently fledged, after laughing awhile at the new and awkward figure they make, consult about the name which they shall give to their rising city, and fix upon that of Nephelococcygia, or Cuckoocloudland; and while one goes to superintend the workmen, the other prepares to sacrifice for the prosperity of the city, which is growing apace.

SCENE II.

They begin a solemn prayer to all the birds of Olympus, putting the swan in the place of Apollo, the cock in that of Mars, and the ostrich in that of the great mother Cybele, &c.

SCENE III.

A miserable poet having already heard of the new settlement, comes with some lyric poetry, which he has composed on this great occasion. Pisthetærus knows his errand from his looks, and makes them give him an old coat; but not contented with that, he begs to have the waistcoat to it, in the elevated style of Pindar: they comply, and get rid of him.

SCENE IV.

The sacrifice is again interrupted by a begging prophet, who brings a cargo of oracles, partly relating to the prosperity of the city of Nephelococcygia, and partly to a new pair of shoes, of which he is in extreme want. Pisthetærus loses patience, and cuffs him and his religious trumpery off the stage.

SCENE V.

Meto, the famous geometrician, comes next, and offers a plan which he has drawn for the new buildings, with much importance and impertinence: he meets with as bad a reception as the prophet.

SCENES VI. AND VII.

An ambassador, or licensed spy, from Athens, arrives, and a legislator with a body of new laws. They are used with abundance of indignity, and go off, threatening every body with a prosecution. The sacred rites being so often interrupted, they are forced to remove their altar, and finish them behind the scenes.

SCENE VIII.

The  Chorus  rejoice in their own increasing power; and (as about the time of the Dionysia it was usual to make proclamation against the enemies of the republic) they set a price upon the head of a famous poulterer, who has exercised infinite cruelties upon their friends and brethren; then they turn themselves to the judges and spectators, and promise, if this drama obtain the victory, how propitious they will be to them.

ACT III.—SCENE I.

Pisthetærus returns, and reports, that the sacrifice appears auspicious to their undertaking: a messenger then enters, with an account how quick the works advance,

and whimsically describes the employments allotted to the several birds, in different parts of the building.

SCENE II.

Another messenger arrives in a violent hurry, to tell how somebody from heaven has deceived the vigilance of the jackdaws, who were upon guard, and passed through the gates down into the lower air; but that a whole squadron of light-winged forces were in pursuit of this insolent person, and hoped to fetch him back again. The birds are in great perturbation, and all in a flutter about it.

SCENE III.

This proves to be Iris, who in her return is stopped short, and seized by order of Pisthetærus. He examines her, where is her passport? Whether she had leave from the watch? What is her business? Who she is? in short, he treats her with great authority. She tells her name, and that she was sent by Jove with orders to mankind, that they should keep holiday, and perform a grand sacrifice; she wonders at their sauciness and madness, and threatens them with all her father's thunder.

The governor of Nephelococcygia returns it with higher menaces, and with language very indecent indeed for a goddess and a maid to hear: however, with much-ado, she carries off her virginity safe, but in a terrible passion.

SCENE IV.

The herald, who had been despatched to the lower world, returns with an account that all Athens was gone bird-mad; that it was grown a fashion to imitate them in their names and manners; and that shortly they might expect to see a whole convoy arrive, in order to settle among them. The  Chorus  run to fetch a vast cargo of feathers and wings to equip their new citizens, when they come.

SCENE V.

The first who appears is a profligate young fellow, who hopes to enjoy a liberty, which he could not enjoy so well at home, the liberty of beating his father. Pisthetærus allows it indeed to be the custom of his people; but at the same time informs him of an ancient law preserved among the storks, that they shall maintain their parents in their old age. This is not at all agreeable to the

youth: however, in consideration of his affection for the Nephelococcygians, Pisthetærus furnishes him with a feather for his helmet, and a cock's spur for a weapon, and advises him, as he seems to be of a military turn, to go into the army in Thrace.

SCENE VI.

The next is Cinesias, the dithyrambic writer, who is delighted with the thought of living among the clouds, amidst those airy regions, whence all his poetical flights are derived; but Pisthetærus will have no such animal among his birds: he drives him back to Athens with great contempt.

SCENE VII.

He then drives away also (but not without a severe whipping) an informer, who for the better despatch of business comes to beg a pair of wings to carry him round the islands and cities subject to Athens, whose inhabitants he is used to swear against for an honest livelihood, as did, he says, his fathers before him. The birds, in the ensuing  chorus , relate their travels, and describe the strange things and strange men they have seen in them.

ACT IV.—SCENE I.

A person in disguise, with all the appearance of caution and fear, comes to inquire for Pisthetærus, to whom he discovers himself to be Prometheus, and tells him (but first he makes them hold a large umbrella over his head for fear Jupiter should spy him) that the Gods are all in a starving, miserable condition; and, what is worse, that barbarian gods (who live no one knows where, in a part of heaven far beyond the gods of Greece) threaten to make war upon them, unless they will open the ports, and renew the intercourse between mankind and them, as of old. He advises Pisthetærus to make the most of this intelligence, and to reject all offers boldly, which Jupiter may make him, unless he will consent to restore to the birds their ancient power, and give him in marriage his favourite attendant, Basilea. This said, he slips back again to heaven, as he came. The  chorus  continue an account of their travels.

SCENE II.

An embassy arrives from heaven, consisting of Hercules, Neptune, and a certain Triballian god. As they approach the city walls, Neptune is dressing and scolding

at the outlandish divinity, and teaching him how to carry himself a little decently. They find Pisthetærus busy in giving orders about a dish of wild fowl (i.e. of birds which had been guilty of high misdemeanours, and condemned to die by the public) which are dressing for his dinner. Hercules, who before was for bringing off the head of this audacious mortal without further conference, finds himself insensibly relent, as he snuffs the savoury steam. He salutes Pisthetærus, who receives them very coldly, and is more attentive to his kitchen than to their compliment. Neptune opens his commission; owns that his nation (the gods) are not the better for this war, and on reasonable terms would be glad of a peace. Pisthetærus, according to the advice of Prometheus, proposes (as if to try them) the first condition, namely, that of Jupiter's restoring to the birds their ancient power; and, if this should be agreed to, he says, that he hopes to entertain my lords the ambassadors at dinner. Hercules, pleased with this last compliment, so agreeable to his appetite, comes readily into all he asks; but is severely reproved by Neptune for his gluttony. Pisthetærus argues the point, and shows how much it would be for the mutual interest of both nations; and Neptune is hungry enough to be glad of some reasonable pretence to give the thing up. The Triballian god is asked his opinion for form: he mutters somewhat, which nobody understands, and so it passes for his consent. Here they are going in to dinner, and all is well; when Pisthetærus bethinks himself of the match with Basilea. This makes Neptune fly out again: he will not hear of it; he will return home instantly; but Hercules cannot think of leaving a good meal so; he is ready to acquiesce in any conditions. His colleague attempts to show him that he is giving up his patrimony for a dinner; and what will become of him after Jupiter's death, if the birds are to have every thing during his life-time. Pisthetærus clearly proves to Hercules that this is a mere imposition; that by the laws of Solon a bastard has no inheritance; that if Jove died without legitimate issue, his brothers would succeed to his estate, and that he speaks only out of interest. Now the Triballian god is again to determine the matter; they interpret his jargon as favourable to them; so Neptune is forced to give up the point, and Pisthetærus goes with him and the barbarian to heaven to fetch his bride, while Hercules stays behind to take care that the roast meat is not spoiled.

ACT V.—SCENE THE FIRST AND LAST.

A messenger returns with the news of the approach of Pisthetærus and his bride; and accordingly they appear in the air in a splendid machine, he with Jove's thunderbolt in his hand, and by his side Basilea, magnificently adorned: the birds break out into loud songs of exultation, and conclude the drama with their hymeneal.