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83 occurrences of Choruses
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ACT II.
 1. 
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83 occurrences of Choruses
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75

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Pisthetærus, Euelpides, Epops.
Pisthetærus.
Here 'tis; the very thing. Ha! ha! by Jove,
A droller business never yet saw I.

Euelpides.
What dost thou laugh at thus?

Pisthetærus.
At what? Thy pennons.
Know'st what thou'rt likest to, now thou art fledg'd?
To an ill-pictur'd goose.

Euelpides.
And thou to a blackbird
Having his pate pluck'd.

Pisthetærus.
There then we've our likenesses,
As Æschylus says, ‘taken not by others' plumes,
But by our own.’


76

Epops.
Come, come; what's to be done next?

Pisthetærus.
First we must put a name upon the city,
Some great and famous one; then after this
To the Gods make sacrifice.

Epops.
I'm of your mind.

Pisthetærus.
Well, let me see. What shall our city's name be?
Will you we go to Lacedæmon for it,
And put a noble name upon her—Sparta?

Epops.
Hercules! I'd not put Sparta on my city;
Nor on my pallet not a Spartan girth,
If I had one of reeds.

Pisthetærus.
What shall we choose then?

Epops.
We'll take one hence; even from the clouds and these
Meteorous regions.

Pisthetærus.
Something grand, I warrant,
And swelling. Cuckoocloudland. Will that do?


77

Epops.
O famous! famous! Thou'st found out a name
That's passing fine, an excellent good name.

Euelpides.
And is not this the very Cuckoocloudland
Where great part of Theagenes' estate lies,
And all of Æschines'?

Pisthetærus.
Ay, and fitliest too,
Or on the plains of Phlegra, where the Gods
O'ershot the giants in their swaggering.

Epops.
It goes on nicely, does this city. What god
Shall have the guard on't? Whom shall we comb the veil for?

Pisthetærus.
Why should we not let tutelary Pallas?

Epops.
And how may that be a well-order'd city,
Wherein a female is the god, and stands,
Having full armour on, while Clisthenes
Handles the shuttle?


78

Pisthetærus.
Who shall be president
O'er the Pelargic fortress?

Epops.
Who but the bird
Of Persian breed, that every where is call'd
The fiercest chick of Mars?

Euelpides.
O chicken-master!
What a fit god were he to man our battlements!

Pisthetærus.
For thee, be't thine to tread with nimble step
To the air, and minister unto the builders;
Fetch pebbles; strip thee, and stir well the mortar;
Carry the hod up; slip adown the ladder;
See that the sentinels be duly set;
Cover the embers; run round with the larum;
And sleep there: send besides a messenger,

79

One to the Gods, another from aloft
To men below; and thence again to me.

Euelpides.
But thou stay here the while, and—take from me—
Curse on thee!

Pisthetærus.
To thine errand straight, good sir.
Of these things nought may without thee be done.
[Exit Euelpides.
But I, that to the new Gods I may sacrifice,
Will call the priest to lead a solemn pomp.
Boy! boy! lift up the basket and the ewer.

previous hit Chorus next hit.
My will, mine aid, mine arm is thine,
In these thy holy rites to join
With stately march toward the shrine,
Which, in mark of grace beside,
Shall be with blood of victim dyed.
Loud, loud the Pythian shout ascend
In honour of the power divine;
And Chæris notes accordant blend.


80

SCENE II.

Pisthetærus, Epops, Priest.
Pisthetærus.
Truce with thy puffing. Hercules! What have we here?
What's this? By Jove, I have seen strange things many,
But never yet a crow with mouthpiece on.

Epops.
Priest, to thine office. Let the sacrifice
To the new gods proceed.

Priest.
It shall be done.
But where is he that hath the basket? Now;
Do ye with prayer and solemn rite
On Ornitheian Vesta call,

81

And on the guardian kite,
And birds Olympian all,
To all of either gender,
Their due devotion render:
And in loud anthems sing.

Pisthetærus.
Hail, Sunian hawk! all hail Pelargick king!

Priest.
And to the Pythian swan all hail!
And to Latona, mother quail;
And to the goldfinch, goddess Delian.

Pisthetærus.
Diana, goldfinch now, no more Colænian.

Priest.
To the Sabazian chaffinch sing;
And to the mighty ostrich,
Of gods and men the mother.

Pisthetærus.
O Cybele! O lady ostrich!
Of Cleocritus the mother!

Priest.
That to the Cuckoocloudlanders
They would health and safety bring,

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To them and to their heirs,
And eke unto the Chians too.

Pisthetærus.
Now that 'tis hits my fancy, ‘Eke unto
The Chians too.’ Never leave out the Chians.

Priest.
To heroes, birds, and sons of heroes;
And to moor-hen and pelican;
And shovel-bill and wagtail;
And heathcock and peacock;
And barn-owl and screech-owl;
And red-game and moor-game;
And green-finch and pie-finch;
And wren, cock and hen.


83

Pisthetærus.
Enough, enough; confound thee to the crows.
No more invoking. To what sort of sacrifice,
Ospreys and vultures, art inviting thus?
And dost not see, thou miserable thing,
One kite would snatch all up, and away with it?
Off with thee, crowns and all. For I myself
Will to these Gods do sacrifice alone.

Priest.
Yet once more for thee still must I
Breathe out a second melody
Over the ewer, a holy shout
Ascending up from heart devout;
And call again upon the blest,
Yet only one, to share the feast:
If add some savoury meat ye can;
For this is nought but husks and bran.


84

SCENE III.

Pisthetærus, previous hit Chorus next hit, Poet.
Pisthetærus.
Thus sacrificing offer we our vows
To the wing'd Gods.

Poet.
‘Cuckoocloudland's praise to sing,
Strike, O Muse, the sounding string.’

Pisthetærus.
What have we here? Whence dost thou drop from? Eh?
What art thou?

Poet.
‘One, who shed the chords along,
Torrents of mellifluous song—
In the Muses' service I:’
As Homer hath it.

Pisthetærus.
What! in service?
Yet pluming thyself so much on thy tresses?


85

Poet.
Not so; no. But ‘all minstrels we
In the Muses' service be:’
As Homer hath it.

Pisthetærus.
Troth, and thy jacket has seen service too.
But, poet, what brings thee hither with a vengeance?

Poet.
I have made odes upon your Cuckoocloudlands,
Odes, Cyclian melodies, many and beautiful,
Songs to be sung by virgins, and in the gusto
Of Simonides.

Pisthetærus.
Ay? and how long is't, prythee,
Since thou hast made them?

Poet.
Oh some time, some time
'Tis since I've tuned my lyre to exalt your city.

Pisthetærus.
What? Am not I e'en now employ'd i'th'rites,
The sacred rites, that tend the naming on't,
Like to an infant's naming on his tenth day?


86

Poet.
But ‘swift the report of the Nine,
Like the many-twinkling feet
Of horses fleet.
And thou, O sire,
Founder of Ætna; yea, a title thine,
Derived from holiest things divine,
Give what thou wouldst thyself desire:
The tinkling wire I wake,
And that, which tinkleth, take.’

Pisthetærus.
A mischief this we shall have trouble enough with,
Unless we give him somewhat, and so rid him.
Ho! thou'st a jerkin and a coat upon thee,
[To one of the attendants.
Strip and impart to this sweet poet. Here,
Take thou this jerkin; thou seem'st chill; 'twill warm thee.

Poet.
‘Not loth the Muse admits the boon:
And thou in turn
A word of Pindar learn.’

Pisthetærus.
The fellow's not so easily despatch'd.

Poet.
‘O'er Scythia's wild untrodden ways,
Straton with savage herdmen strays;

87

Yet ah! he hath possest
No interwoven vest.
Inglorious and a prey to scorn,
The jerkin is, I ween,
That without coat is worn.
Thou knowest what I mean.’

Pisthetærus.
I know thou wouldst fain have the coat beside.
Well; strip: for we must needs oblige the poet.
And now thou'st got it, quick, be off.

Poet.
I'm gone:
Yet at departing one more strain will utter
Upon this blessed city.
‘O thou, that sitt'st in golden chair,
Her mighty praise declare.
Frigid, teeth-chattering, pure serene,
Smit with eternal snows,
The ever-fruitful scene,
O'er which my step admiring goes.
Io Pæan! Io Pæan!’
Thank Jupiter, however, I have 'scaped
This pure serene by the warm coat they've given me.

[Exit the Poet, wrapping the coat about him.

88

Pisthetærus.
This was, by Jove, a curse I little dreamt of,
That such a scurvy fellow should so speedily
Have of our city gain'd intelligence.
Again take up the ewer and pace around.


89

SCENE IV.

Priest, Pisthetærus, previous hit Chorus next hit, Prophet.
Priest.
Good omens wait us.

Prophet.
Stay, I charge thee lift not
Thy hand upon the victim.

Pisthetærus.
And what art thou?

Prophet.
What I? A prophet.

Pisthetærus.
I would that thou wert hang'd.

Prophet.
O sir! of things divine be not so reckless.
There is an oracle of Bacis extant,
That plainly doth regard the Cuckoocloudlands.

Pisthetærus.
And why then didst not thou deliver it,
Ere I this city founded?

Prophet.
The divinity
Forbade me.

Pisthetærus.
Well, well; after all is said,
There's nothing like hearing the verses. Out with them.


90

Prophet.
‘When leagued together wolves and hoary crows,
Their seat, 'twixt Sicyon and Corinth, choose.’

Pisthetærus.
And what is Corinth to me, or I to Corinth?

Prophet.
Thus Bacis enigmatically meant the air.
‘First to Pandora of all powers on high,
A ram with snowy fleece the altar dye.
But on my prophet, first of all, a boon
Grateful bestow,—clean raiment and new shoon.’

Pisthetærus.
What, and are ‘shoon’ in it?

Prophet.
Take the book.
‘A goblet give, with entrails fill his hand—’

Pisthetærus.
And are the entrails there too?

Prophet.
Take the book.
‘And if thou dost, brave boy, what I command,
An eagle shalt thou soar in realms above.
No eagle else, nor woodpecker nor dove.’

Pisthetærus.
What, and is all this written?

Prophet.
Take the book.


91

Pisthetærus.
The oracle in nought resembles one,
Which from Apollo's I have here transcribed.
‘Whene'er upon the rites there shall intrude,
Unask'd, a fellow impudent and lewd,
Who of the entrails shall demand a share,
Give him some blows between the shoulders bare.’

Prophet.
Poh! Poh! Thou'rt trifling with me.

Pisthetærus.
Take the book.
‘Spare not, were he an eagle, my brave son,
Lampon or great Diopithes, lay it on.’

Prophet.
What, and is all this written?

Pisthetærus.
Take the book.
What, wilt thou not be off with thee?

[Beating him.
Prophet.
Mercy! Mercy!

Pisthetærus.
Take to thy heels, and prophesy elsewhere.

[Exit Prophet.

92

SCENE V.

Pisthetærus, previous hit Chorus next hit, Meto.
Meto.
I am come among you.

Pisthetærus.
Here's another scoundrel!
‘What thou to do? by what idea prompted?
What thought impels? what buskin leads thy way?’

Meto.
My wish is to mete forth the air unto you,
And lay it out in due departments rang'd.

Pisthetærus.
The Gods preserve us! What i'th'world art thou?

Meto.
I? I am Meto, not unknown to Greece
And to Colonus.


93

Pisthetærus.
Tell me, what hast here?

Meto.
Rules for the air. For that in figure wholly
Doth to an oven most resemblance bear.
Therefore (observe me) I applying upward
This bent rule to it; putting in the compass—
You understand me—

Pisthetærus.
Nay, I understand thee not—

Meto.
Do measure it with a straight rule so applied
As that the circle may be made four square.
I'th'midst the forum, then the streets direct
Leading to it i'th'midst, so that being circular,
As from a star, the rays on every side
May verge therefrom direct.

Pisthetærus.
A very Thales!
Meto—

Meto.
Well, sir!

Pisthetærus.
Dost know I am thy friend?
And if thou take my counsel, thou'lt out of the way.

Meto.
But what's to fear?

Pisthetærus.
There is an alien act

94

Pass'd here, like that in Sparta. Certain blows
Are rife i'th'city—

Meto.
What, are ye in factions?

Pisthetærus.
Not so, by Jove.

Meto.
How then?

Pisthetærus.
It has been carried,
With not a voice dissenting, to drub heartily
All impudent fellows.

Meto.
I must away, by Jove.

Pisthetærus.
So that I know not if thou'rt yet in time,
For these same fisty cuffs are coming.

[Beats him.
Meto.
Oh! Oh!
I'm undone; I'm undone.

Pisthetærus.
Did I not tell thee?
Forewarn'd I not? Wilt thou not hence, and take
A better measure of thyself elsewhere?

[Exit Meto.

95

SCENE VI.

Pisthetærus, previous hit Chorus next hit, an Envoy.
Envoy.
Where are my hosts, provided by the state?

Pisthetærus.
What spruce and essenced Emperor have we here?

Envoy.
I'm come an envoy, chosen by the ballot,
To Cuckoocloudlands.

Pisthetærus.
An envoy? and who sent thee?

Envoy.
A poor diploma here of Teleas' penning.

Pisthetærus.
What then? art willing to receive thy stipend,
And without more ado, at once begone?


96

Envoy.
Nay, by the Gods, I'd better stay'd at home
Attending the debates in Parliament.
Mine interest there had been of use to Pharnăces.

Pisthetærus.
Begone, and take it; for thy stipend's this.

[Beats him.
Envoy.
What mean'st by this?

Pisthetærus.
A parliament debate
For Pharnaces.

Envoy.
I call you all to witness
That I am stricken being an envoy.

Pisthetærus.
Whew!
Wilt thou not tramp and carry off thy boxes?
This is too bad. They send their envoys hither
Before we have even sacrificed to the Gods.

 

A Persian satrap. The envoy is perhaps hinting that for a bribe he would be willing to serve the interests of the new state against his employers.


97

SCENE VII.

Priest, Pisthetærus, previous hit Chorus next hit, an Envoy, a Legislator.
Legislator
(reading).
‘And 'tis hereby provided that if one
Of Cuckoocloudlands do to an Athenian—’

Pisthetærus.
What other curs'd diploma's coming now?

Legislator.
I am a constitution-maker. Laws,
Span-new, I come to vend among you.

Pisthetærus.
What's this?

Legislator
(reading).
‘And that the Cuckoocloudlanders do use
Like measures, weights, and acts in senate pass'd
As the Olophyxians.’

Pisthetærus.
Haul will I
And fix thee in the stocks anon unless—


98

Legislator.
Ho! Sir! what ails thee?

Pisthetærus.
Wilt not budge with thy laws?
Else will I show thee bitter laws to-day.

Envoy.
I hereby Pisthetærus cite t'appear
At the next spring assize in Court for Wrong—

Pisthetærus.
What so! thou fellow, hast thou still been here?

Legislator
(reading).
‘But if any one drive out the magistrates,
And do not, as the column directs, receive them—’

Pisthetærus.
Oh! for patience! hast thou too still been here?

Envoy.
I'll do for thee. I'll lay the damages at
Ten thousand drachmas.

Pisthetærus.
I'll scatter thy boxes.

Legislator.
Remember when one night thou didst befoul
The column.

Pisthetærus.
This is past bearing. Seize him, ho!
Wilt not halt, sirrah?

Priest.
Fitting 'tis that speedily
We take departure hence, and to the Gods
Complete the unfinish'd sacrifice within.

 

This is the last of these puppies. If Aristophanes had lived in our days, I doubt not he would have added a Political (Economist to finish the climax.

The beginning of a new law which he proposes.


99

SCENE VIII.

previous hit Chorus next hit.
Semichorus.
O'er the wide world now I sway,
And my subject realms survey;
Mortals all to me shall bring
Votive prayer and offering.
For the green earth I defend;
All her blooming fruitage tend;
And, ruthless, slay the ravening brood
That lurk within the closed bud,
Or with their million fangs devour
The chalice of the opening flower,
Sit on the trees and suck their fruit,
Or mining sap the secret root.
Through the damask gardens I
Seize the reptile, chase the fly,
Whoe'er with harmful power presume
To waste the sweets or soil the bloom.
Crush'd by my wing the felons lie,
And writhing in their mischief die.

100

Whereas this day is issued a new proclamation,
Design'd for the safety and good of the nation,
That a talent the state to that citizen pays
Whoever the Melian Diagoras slays,
And another to him who kills over again
Any tyrant soe'er that already is slain;
We therefore hereby think it fit to declare
The rewards that our friends and avengers shall share:
A talent to him who among you shall slay
The poulterer Philocrates gladly we pay,
And four to the man, whosoever he be,
That shall take him alive and conduct him to me;
For our sparrows he strings and sells seven a penny,
Blows our thrushes hung up to be stared at by any;

101

The plumes from the tails of our blackbirds he gathers,
And thrusts through their nostrils obliquely the feathers:
He catches our doves, and imprisons a troop,
Constrain'd to decoy while inclosed in their coop.
And we further give notice, if any detain
Fowls shut up in his yard, that he loose them again,
On pain that yourselves by the birds shall be seiz'd,
And shut up to decoy till your thralls are releas'd.
Blest the winged tribes that wear
No fleece to fend the winter's air:
Nor again doth sultry ray
Scorch us through the summer day;
Bosom'd deep in leafy green
Then the flowery meadows screen;
While the grasshopper doth sing
With his shrill note clamouring,
All throughout the livelong noon,
Loud and maddening with the sun.
When the stormy season raves,
Winter I in hollow caves,
With the mountain nymphs disporting;
Till with spring again resorting

102

Once more to the myrtle bowers,
We feed on snow-white virgin flowers,
Dallying where the Graces play
O'er the garden alleys gay.
Ere we further proceed, I have something to say
To the judges about the success of our play;
What gifts, if the conquest to us they decree,
We will grant, such as Paris with envy might see.
First then, what 'tis known every judge would like best,
The Laurian owls shall with you make their nest;
They shall lurk in your purses, the delicate elves,
And hatch little coins there as dear as themselves.
Next your houses with temples in splendour shall vie,
Their roofs crown'd with eagles that gaze on the sky.
If in office you're placed, and would aught filch away,
Little hawks to your fists shall the rapine convey.

103

And if anywhere you're invited to sup,
We will send you such craws as ye scarce can fill up.
Not so if the victory to us is denied,
To your heads then like statues must plates be applied;
For if you're without, though your raiment's like snow,
Be sure we'll befoul you wherever you go.