PISTHETAERUS. Let a buzzard rush at her and seize her.[320]

IRIS. Seize me! But what do all these insults betoken?

PISTHETAERUS. Woe to you!

IRIS. 'Tis incomprehensible.

PISTHETAERUS. By which gate did you pass through the wall, wretched

woman?

IRIS. By which gate? Why, great gods, I don't know.

PISTHETAERUS. You hear how she holds us in derision. Did you present

yourself to the officers in command of the jays? You don't answer. Have

you a permit, bearing the seal of the storks?

IRIS. Am I awake?

PISTHETAERUS. Did you get one?

IRIS. Are you mad?

PISTHETAERUS. No head-bird gave you a safe-conduct?

IRIS. A safe-conduct to me, you poor fool!

PISTHETAERUS. Ah! and so you slipped into this city on the sly and into

these realms of air-land that don't belong to you.

IRIS. And what other road can the gods travel?

PISTHETAERUS. By Zeus! I know nothing about that, not I. But they won't

pass this way. And you still dare to complain! Iris would ever have more

justly suffered death.

IRIS. I am immortal.

PISTHETAERUS. You would have died nevertheless.--Oh! 'twould be truly

intolerable! What! should the universe obey us and the gods alone

continue their insolence and not understand that they must submit to the

law of the strongest in their due turn? But tell me, where are you flying

to?

IRIS. I? The messenger of Zeus to mankind, I am going to tell them to

sacrifice sheep and oxen on the altars and to fill their streets with the

rich smoke of burning fat.

PISTHETAERUS. Of which gods are you speaking?

IRIS. Of which? Why, of ourselves, the gods of heaven.

PISTHETAERUS. You, gods?

IRIS. Are there others then?

PISTHETAERUS. Men now adore the birds as gods, and 'tis to them, by Zeus,

that they must offer sacrifices, and not to Zeus at all!

IRIS. Oh! fool! fool! Rouse not the wrath of the gods, for 'tis terrible

indeed. Armed with the brand of Zeus, Justice would annihilate your race;

the lightning would strike you as it did Lycimnius and consume both your

body and the porticos of your palace.[321]

PISTHETAERUS. Here! that's enough tall talk. Just you listen and keep

quiet! Do you take me for a Lydian or a Phrygian[322] and think to

frighten me with your big words? Know, that if Zeus worries me again, I

shall go at the head of my eagles, who are armed with lightning, and

reduce his dwelling and that of Amphion to cinders.[323] I shall send

more than six hundred porphyrions clothed in leopards' skins[324] up to

heaven against him; and formerly a single Porphyrion gave him enough to

do. As for you, his messenger, if you annoy me, I shall begin by

stretching your legs asunder and so conduct myself, Iris though you be,

that despite my age, you will be astonished. I will show you a fine long

tool that will fuck you three times over.

IRIS. May you perish, you wretch, you and your infamous words!

PISTHETAERUS. Won't you be off quickly? Come, stretch your wings or look

out for squalls!

IRIS. If my father does not punish you for your insults....

PISTHETAERUS. Ha!... but just you be off elsewhere to roast younger folk

than us with your lightning.

CHORUS. We forbid the gods, the sons of Zeus, to pass through our city

and the mortals to send them the smoke of their sacrifices by this road.

PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis odd that the messenger we sent to the mortals has

never returned.

HERALD. Oh! blessed Pisthetaerus, very wise, very illustrious, very

gracious, thrice happy, very.... Come, prompt me, somebody, do.

PISTHETAERUS. Get to your story!

HERALD. All peoples are filled with admiration for your wisdom, and they

award you this golden crown.

PISTHETAERUS. I accept it. But tell me, why do the people admire me?

HERALD. Oh you, who have founded so illustrious a city in the air, you

know not in what esteem men hold you and how many there are who burn with

desire to dwell in it. Before your city was built, all men had a mania

for Sparta; long hair and fasting were held in honour, men went dirty

like Socrates and carried staves. Now all is changed. Firstly, as soon as

'tis dawn, they all spring out of bed together to go and seek their food,

the same as you do; then they fly off towards the notices and finally

devour the decrees. The bird-madness is so clear, that many actually bear

the names of birds. There is a halting victualler, who styles himself the

partridge; Menippus calls himself the swallow; Opontius the one-eyed

crow; Philocles the lark; Theogenes the fox-goose; Lycurgus the ibis;

Chaerephon the bat; Syracosius the magpie; Midias the quail;[325] indeed

he looks like a quail that has been hit heavily over the head. Out of

love for the birds they repeat all the songs which concern the swallow,

the teal, the goose or the pigeon; in each verse you see wings, or at all

events a few feathers. This is what is happening down there. Finally,

there are more than ten thousand folk who are coming here from earth to

ask you for feathers and hooked claws; so, mind you supply yourself with

wings for the immigrants.

PISTHETAERUS. Ah! by Zeus, 'tis not the time for idling. Go as quick as

possible and fill every hamper, every basket you can find with wings.

Manes[326] will bring them to me outside the walls, where I will welcome

those who present themselves.

CHORUS. This town will soon be inhabited by a crowd of men.

PISTHETAERUS. If fortune favours us.

CHORUS. Folk are more and more delighted with it.

PISTHETAERUS. Come, hurry up and bring them along.

CHORUS. Will not man find here everything that can please him--wisdom,

love, the divine Graces, the sweet face of gentle peace?

PISTHETAERUS. Oh! you lazy servant! won't you hurry yourself?

CHORUS. Let a basket of wings be brought speedily. Come, beat him as I

do, and put some life into him; he is as lazy as an ass.

PISTHETAERUS. Aye, Manes is a great craven.

CHORUS. Begin by putting this heap of wings in order; divide them in

three parts according to the birds from whom they came; the singing, the

prophetic[327] and the aquatic birds; then you must take care to

distribute them to the men according to their character.

PISTHETAERUS (_to Manes_). Oh! by the kestrels! I can keep my hands off

you no longer; you are too slow and lazy altogether.

A PARRICIDE.[328] Oh! might I but become an eagle, who soars in the

skies! Oh! might I fly above the azure waves of the barren sea![329]

PISTHETAERUS. Ha! 'twould seem the news was true; I hear someone coming

who talks of wings.

PARRICIDE. Nothing is more charming than to fly; I burn with desire to

live under the same laws as the birds; I am bird-mad and fly towards you,

for I want to live with you and to obey your laws.

PISTHETAERUS. Which laws? The birds have many laws.

PARRICIDE. All of them; but the one that pleases me most is, that among

the birds it is considered a fine thing to peck and strangle one's

father.

PISTHETAERUS. Aye, by Zeus! according to us, he who dares to strike his

father, while still a chick, is a brave fellow.

PARRICIDE. And therefore I want to dwell here, for I want to strangle my

father and inherit his wealth.

PISTHETAERUS. But we have also an ancient law written in the code of the

storks, which runs thus, "When the stork father has reared his young and

has taught them to fly, the young must in their turn support the father."

PARRICIDE. 'Tis hardly worth while coming all this distance to be

compelled to keep my father!

PISTHETAERUS. No, no, young friend, since you have come to us with such

willingness, I am going to give you these black wings, as though you were

an orphan bird; furthermore, some good advice, that I received myself in

infancy. Don't strike your father, but take these wings in one hand and

these spurs in the other; imagine you have a cock's crest on your head

and go and mount guard and fight; live on your pay and respect your

father's life. You're a gallant fellow! Very well, then! Fly to Thrace

and fight.[330]

PARRICIDE. By Bacchus! 'Tis well spoken; I will follow your counsel.

PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis acting wisely, by Zeus.

CINESIAS.[331] "On my light pinions I soar off to Olympus; in its

capricious flight my Muse flutters along the thousand paths of poetry in

turn ..."

PISTHETAERUS. This is a fellow will need a whole shipload of wings.

The Eleven Comedies, Volume 2 · 第 63 / 214 题