University of Virginia Library

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.’

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?

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?

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,
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.

Chorus.
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.