University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Pisthetærus, Chorus, Herald.
Pisthetærus.
Strange if this herald we have sent to men
Should ne'er return again! But here he comes.

Herald.
O Pisthetærus, excellent Pisthetærus!
O thou discreetest, wisest, famousest, most blest!
O bid all here give hearing.

Pisthetærus.
Well! What sayst?

Herald.
Thee with a crown of gold do crown and honour
All people for thy wisdom's sake.

Pisthetærus.
Accepted.
But wherefore honour me the people thus?

Herald.
O thou, that hast a city most illustrious
Founded i'th'air, thou know'st not all the glory
Thou'st gain'd from mortals, nor how many lovers
Thou of this place hast won; for till the founding
Of this state all were Lacedæmon-mad,
Wore tresses long, kept fast, went filthily,
Acted to the life the part of Socrates,
Bare Spartan staffs; but now they have turn'd about,
And are grown bird-crazy; mimicking through pleasure
Whate'er the birds do. First, as soon as day dawns,
All fly together to the courts, like us;
And in a herd they flutter to the leaves,
And peck and feed away upon decrees
Most lustily. Nay, to such a pitch of frenzy
Is this bird-mania grown, that many of them
Have got fowl names: one fellow, a limping vintner,
Is nicknamed Partridge; and as to Menippus,
He is entitled Swallow; Opuntius
Is Raven the one-eyed; Philocles, Lark;
Theagenes, Barnacle; Lycurgus, Stork;
Chærephon, Bat; and Syracosius, Magpie.
For Midias, he is known there commonly
By th'name of Quail, since he's most like a quail
That by a game-cock has been maul'd and batter'd.
Then for the songs they all sing, not one's made
Without some swallow in it, or some widgeon,
Or may be goose or stockdove; or at least
They manage to bring in something about wings
Or pinions, be it never such a scrap.
So matters go on there. But I can tell you
One thing; that we shall have ten thousand of them,
Or upwards, coming here to beg for wings
And talons; so that from some where or other
Wings must be had for these new colonists.

Pisthetærus.
By Jove, then, we've no business to stand here.
Quick, quick; as many baskets as thou find'st,
And all the boxes, fill brimfull of wings.
Let Manes fetch the wings out. I meantime
Shall be ready to receive them as they come.

Chorus.
Our city soon may bear the style
Of populous.

Pisthetærus.
So Fortune smile.

Chorus.
The ardour for our city grows.

Pisthetærus.
Bestir thee; for no time's to lose.

Chorus.
What is not here that men seek most
Who settle on a foreign coast?
Wisdom and Love; the Graces three;
Ambrosia, and Tranquillity,
Breathing from her gentle face
Holy calm around the place.

Pisthetærus.
How sluggishly thy work is done!
Wilt thou not budge? Wilt thou not run?

Chorus.
Bear some one quick a pannier full
Of wings. This fellow is too dull.
Go thou, and make him stir for us,
The doltish ass—lay on him thus.

Pisthetærus.
Right, 'tis but Manes; never spare:
The coward slave was made to bear.

Chorus.
First lay the wings in order all;
Together place the musical;
Next the prophetic; and last these
Adapted to the billowy seas.
Then carefully each comer scan,
And dress in fitting plumes the man.

Pisthetærus.
Yea, by the screech-owls, but I can hold off
No longer, seeing thee so slack and lubberly.

[Beats Manes.