EUELPIDES. Why, 'tis the life of the newly-wed indeed.[196]

PISTHETAERUS. Ha! I am beginning to see a great plan, which will transfer

the supreme power to the birds, if you will but take my advice.

EPOPS. Take your advice? In what way?

PISTHETAERUS. In 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."

EPOPS. By Zeus himself! your jest hits the mark. What then is to be done?

PISTHETAERUS. Found a city.

EPOPS. We birds? But what sort of city should we build?

PISTHETAERUS. Oh, really, really! 'tis spoken like a fool! Look down.

EPOPS. I am looking.

PISTHETAERUS. Now look upwards.

EPOPS. I am looking.

PISTHETAERUS. Turn your head round.

EPOPS. Ah! 'twill be pleasant for me, if I end in twisting my neck!

PISTHETAERUS. What have you seen?

EPOPS. The clouds and the sky.

PISTHETAERUS. Very well! is not this the pole of the birds then?

EPOPS. How their pole?

PISTHETAERUS. Or, if you like it, the land. And since it turns and passes

through the whole universe, it is called, 'pole.'[197] If you build and

fortify it, you will turn your pole into a fortified city.[198] In this

way you will reign over mankind as you do over the grasshoppers and cause

the gods to die of rabid hunger.

EPOPS. How so?

PISTHETAERUS. The air is 'twixt earth and heaven. When we want to go to

Delphi, we ask the Boeotians[199] 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.

EPOPS. By earth! by snares! by network![200] I never heard of anything

more cleverly conceived; and, if the other birds approve, I am going to

build the city along with you.

PISTHETAERUS. Who will explain the matter to them?

EPOPS. You must yourself. Before I came they were quite ignorant, but

since I have lived with them I have taught them to speak.

PISTHETAERUS. But how can they be gathered together?

EPOPS. Easily. I will hasten down to the coppice to waken my dear

Procné;[201] as soon as they hear our voices, they will come to us hot

wing.

PISTHETAERUS. My dear bird, lose no time, I beg. Fly at once into the

coppice and awaken Procné.

EPOPS. Chase 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,[202] 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._)

PISTHETAERUS. Oh! by Zeus! what a throat that little bird possesses. He

has filled the whole coppice with honey-sweet melody!

EUELPIDES. Hush!

PISTHETAERUS. What's the matter?

EUELPIDES. Will you keep silence?

PISTHETAERUS. What for?

EUELPIDES. Epops 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.

PISTHETAERUS. Can you see any bird?

EUELPIDES. By 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.

PHOENICOPTERUS. Torotina, torotina.

PISTHETAERUS. Hold, friend, here is another bird.

EUELPIDES. I' faith, yes! 'tis a bird, but of what kind? Isn't it a

peacock?

PISTHETAERUS. Epops will tell us. What is this bird?

EPOPS. 'Tis not one of those you are used to seeing; 'tis a bird from the

marshes.

PISTHETAERUS. Oh! oh! but he is very handsome with his wings as crimson

as flame.

The Eleven Comedies, Volume 2 · 第 42 / 214 题