Hand me the cheese-grater; bring me the
silphium
for sauce;
pass me the cheese and watch the coals.
pass me the cheese and watch the coals.
Aristophanes
INFORMER. Well, and why not? I don't know how to dig.
PISTHETAERUS. But, by Zeus! there are honest ways of gaining a living at
your age without all this infamous trickery.
INFORMER. My friend, I am asking you for wings, not for words.
PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis just my words that give you wings.
INFORMER. And how can you give a man wings with your words?
PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis thus that all first start.
INFORMER. All?
PISTHETAERUS. Have you not often heard the father say to young men in the
barbers' shops, "It's astonishing how Diitrephes' advice has made my son
fly to horse-riding. "--"Mine," says another, "has flown towards tragic
poetry on the wings of his imagination. "
INFORMER. So that words give wings?
PISTHETAERUS. Undoubtedly; words give wings to the mind and make a man
soar to heaven. Thus I hope that my wise words will give you wings to fly
to some less degrading trade.
INFORMER. But I do not want to.
PISTHETAERUS. What do you reckon on doing then?
INFORMER. I won't belie my breeding; from generation to generation we
have lived by informing. Quick, therefore, give me quickly some light,
swift hawk or kestrel wings, so that I may summon the islanders, sustain
the accusation here, and haste back there again on flying pinions.
PISTHETAERUS. I see. In this way the stranger will be condemned even
before he appears.
INFORMER. That's just it.
PISTHETAERUS. And while he is on his way here by sea, you will be flying
to the islands to despoil him of his property.
INFORMER. You've hit it, precisely; I must whirl hither and thither like
a perfect humming-top.
PISTHETAERUS. I catch the idea. Wait, i' faith, I've got some fine
Corcyraean wings. [341] How do you like them?
INFORMER. Oh! woe is me! Why, 'tis a whip!
PISTHETAERUS. No, no; these are the wings, I tell you, that set the top
a-spinning.
INFORMER. Oh! oh! oh!
PISTHETAERUS. Take your flight, clear off, you miserable cur, or you will
soon see what comes of quibbling and lying. Come, let us gather up our
wings and withdraw.
CHORUS. In my ethereal nights I have seen many things new and strange and
wondrous beyond belief. There is a tree called Cleonymus belonging to an
unknown species; it has no heart, is good for nothing and is as tall as
it is cowardly. In springtime it shoots forth calumnies instead of buds
and in autumn it strews the ground with bucklers in place of leaves. [342]
Far away in the regions of darkness, where no ray of light ever enters,
there is a country, where men sit at the table of the heroes and dwell
with them always--save always in the evening. Should any mortal meet the
hero Orestes at night, he would soon be stripped and covered with blows
from head to foot. [343]
PROMETHEUS. Ah! by the gods! if only Zeus does not espy me! Where is
Pisthetaerus?
PISTHETAERUS. Ha! what is this? A masked man!
PROMETHEUS. Can you see any god behind me?
PISTHETAERUS. No, none. But who are you, pray?
PROMETHEUS. What's the time, please?
PISTHETAERUS. The time? Why, it's past noon. Who are you?
PROMETHEUS. Is it the fall of day? Is it no later than that? [344]
PISTHETAERUS. Oh! 'pon my word! but you grow tiresome!
PROMETHEUS. What is Zeus doing? Is he dispersing the clouds or gathering
them? [345]
PISTHETAERUS. Take care, lest I lose all patience.
PROMETHEUS. Come, I will raise my mask.
PISTHETAERUS. Ah! my dear Prometheus!
PROMETHEUS. Stop! stop! speak lower!
PISTHETAERUS. Why, what's the matter, Prometheus?
PROMETHEUS. H'sh, h'sh! Don't call me by my name; you will be my ruin, if
Zeus should see me here. But, if you want me to tell you how things are
going in heaven, take this umbrella and shield me, so that the gods don't
see me.
PISTHETAERUS. I can recognize Prometheus in this cunning trick. Come,
quick then, and fear nothing; speak on.
PROMETHEUS. Then listen.
PISTHETAERUS. I am listening, proceed!
PROMETHEUS. It's all over with Zeus.
PISTHETAERUS. Ah! and since when, pray?
PROMETHEUS. Since you founded this city in the air. There is not a man
who now sacrifices to the gods; the smoke of the victims no longer
reaches us. Not the smallest offering comes! We fast as though it were
the festival of Demeter. [346] The barbarian gods, who are dying of
hunger, are bawling like Illyrians[347] and threaten to make an armed
descent upon Zeus, if he does not open markets where joints of the
victims are sold.
PISTHETAERUS. What! there are other gods besides you, barbarian gods who
dwell above Olympus?
PROMETHEUS. If there were no barbarian gods, who would be the patron of
Execestides? [348]
PISTHETAERUS. And what is the name of these gods?
PROMETHEUS. Their name? Why, the Triballi. [349]
PISTHETAERUS. Ah, indeed! 'tis from that no doubt that we derive the word
'tribulation. '[350]
PROMETHEUS. Most likely. But one thing I can tell you for certain,
namely, that Zeus and the celestial Triballi are going to send deputies
here to sue for peace. Now don't you treat, unless Zeus restores the
sceptre to the birds and gives you Basileia[351] in marriage.
PISTHETAERUS. Who is this Basileia?
PROMETHEUS. A very fine young damsel, who makes the lightning for Zeus;
all things come from her, wisdom, good laws, virtue, the fleet,
calumnies, the public paymaster and the triobolus.
PISTHETAERUS. Ah! then she is a sort of general manageress to the god.
PROMETHEUS. Yes, precisely. If he gives you her for your wife, yours will
be the almighty power. That is what I have come to tell you; for you know
my constant and habitual goodwill towards men.
PISTHETAERUS. Oh, yes! 'tis thanks to you that we roast our meat. [352]
PROMETHEUS. I hate the gods, as you know.
PISTHETAERUS. Aye, by Zeus, you have always detested them.
PROMETHEUS. Towards them I am a veritable Timon;[353] but I must return
in all haste, so give me the umbrella; if Zeus should see me from up
there, he would think I was escorting one of the Canephori. [354]
PISTHETAERUS. Wait, take this stool as well.
CHORUS. Near by the land of the Sciapodes[355] there is a marsh, from the
borders whereof the odious Socrates evokes the souls of men.
Pisander[356] came one day to see his soul, which he had left there when
still alive. He offered a little victim, a camel,[357] slit his throat
and, following the example of Ulysses, stepped one pace backwards. [358]
Then that bat of a Chaerephon[359] came up from hell to drink the camel's
blood.
POSIDON. [360] This is the city of Nephelococcygia, Cloud-cuckoo-town,
whither we come as ambassadors. (_To Triballus_. ) Hi! what are you up to?
you are throwing your cloak over the left shoulder. Come, fling it quick
over the right! And why, pray, does it draggle this fashion? Have you
ulcers to hide like Laespodias? [361] Oh! democracy! [362] whither, oh!
whither are you leading us? Is it possible that the gods have chosen such
an envoy?
TRIBALLUS. Leave me alone.
POSIDON. Ugh! the cursed savage! you are by far the most barbarous of all
the gods. --Tell me, Heracles, what are we going to do?
HERACLES. I have already told you that I want to strangle the fellow who
has dared to block us in.
POSIDON. But, my friend, we are envoys of peace.
HERACLES. All the more reason why I wish to strangle him.
PISTHETAERUS.
Hand me the cheese-grater; bring me the silphium for sauce;
pass me the cheese and watch the coals. [363]
HERACLES. Mortal! we who greet you are three gods.
PISTHETAERUS. Wait a bit till I have prepared my silphium pickle.
HERACLES. What are these meats? [364]
PISTHETAERUS. These are birds that have been punished with death for
attacking the people's friends.
HERACLES. And you are seasoning them before answering us?
PISTHETAERUS. Ah! Heracles! welcome, welcome! What's the matter? [365]
HERACLES. The gods have sent us here as ambassadors to treat for peace.
A SERVANT. There's no more oil in the flask.
PISTHETAERUS. And yet the birds must be thoroughly basted with it. [366]
HERACLES. We have no interest to serve in fighting you; as for you, be
friends and we promise that you shall always have rain-water in your
pools and the warmest of warm weather. So far as these points go we are
armed with plenary authority.
PISTHETAERUS. We have never been the aggressors, and even now we are as
well disposed for peace as yourselves, provided you agree to one
equitable condition, namely, that Zeus yield his sceptre to the birds. If
only this is agreed to, I invite the ambassadors to dinner.
HERACLES. That's good enough for me. I vote for peace.
POSIDON. You wretch! you are nothing but a fool and a glutton. Do you
want to dethrone your own father?
PISTHETAERUS. What an error! Why, the gods will be much more powerful if
the birds govern the earth. At present the mortals are hidden beneath the
clouds, escape your observation, and commit perjury in your name; but if
you had the birds for your allies, and a man, after having sworn by the
crow and Zeus, should fail to keep his oath, the crow would dive down
upon him unawares and pluck out his eye.
POSIDON. Well thought of, by Posidon! [367]
HERACLES. My notion too.
PISTHETAERUS. (_to the Triballian_). And you, what's your opinion?
TRIBALLUS. Nabaisatreu. [368]
PISTHETAERUS. D'you see? he also approves. But hear another thing in
which we can serve you. If a man vows to offer a sacrifice to some god
and then procrastinates, pretending that the gods can wait, and thus does
not keep his word, we shall punish his stinginess.
POSIDON. Ah! ah! and how?
PISTHETAERUS. While he is counting his money or is in the bath, a kite
will relieve him, before he knows it, either in coin or in clothes, of
the value of a couple of sheep, and carry it to the god.
HERACLES. I vote for restoring them the sceptre.
POSIDON. Ask the Triballian.
HERACLES. Hi! Triballian, do you want a thrashing?
TRIBALLUS. Saunaka baktarikrousa. [368]
HERACLES. He says, "Right willingly. "
POSIDON. If that be the opinion of both of you, why, I consent too.
HERACLES. Very well! we accord the sceptre.
PISTHETAERUS. Ah! I was nearly forgetting another condition. I will leave
Here to Zeus, but only if the young Basileia is given me in marriage.
POSIDON. Then you don't want peace. Let us withdraw.
PISTHETAERUS. It matters mighty little to me. Cook, look to the gravy.
HERACLES. What an odd fellow this Posidon is! Where are you off to? Are
we going to war about a woman?
POSIDON. What else is there to do?
HERACLES. What else? Why, conclude peace.
POSIDON. Oh! the ninny! do you always want to be fooled? Why, you are
seeking your own downfall. If Zeus were to die, after having yielded them
the sovereignty, you would be ruined, for you are the heir of all the
wealth he will leave behind.
PISTHETAERUS. Oh! by the gods! how he is cajoling you. Step aside, that I
may have a word with you. Your uncle is getting the better of you, my
poor friend. [369] The law will not allow you an obolus of the paternal
property, for you are a bastard and not a legitimate child.
HERACLES. I a bastard! What's that you tell me?
PISTHETAERUS. Why, certainly; are you not born of a stranger woman? [370]
Besides, is not Athene recognized as Zeus' sole heiress? And no daughter
would be that, if she had a legitimate brother.
HERACLES. But what if my father wished to give me his property on his
death-bed, even though I be a bastard?
PISTHETAERUS. The law forbids it, and this same Posidon would be the
first to lay claim to his wealth, in virtue of being his legitimate
brother. Listen; thus runs Solon's law: "A bastard shall not inherit, if
there are legitimate children; and if there are no legitimate children,
the property shall pass to the nearest kin. "
HERACLES. And I get nothing whatever of the paternal property?
PISTHETAERUS. Absolutely nothing. But tell me, has your father had you
entered on the registers of his phratria? [371]
HERACLES. No, and I have long been surprised at the omission.
PISTHETAERUS. What ails you, that you should shake your fist at heaven?
Do you want to fight it? Why, be on my side, I will make you a king and
will feed you on bird's milk and honey.
HERACLES. Your further condition seems fair to me. I cede you the young
damsel.
POSIDON. But I, I vote against this opinion.
PISTHETAERUS. Then all depends on the Triballian. (_To the Triballian. _)
What do you say?
TRIBALLUS. Big bird give daughter pretty and queen.
HERACLES. You say that you give her?
POSIDON. Why no, he does not say anything of the sort, that he gives her;
else I cannot understand any better than the swallows.
PISTHETAERUS. Exactly so. Does he not say she must be given to the
swallows?
POSIDON. Very well! you two arrange the matter; make peace, since you
wish it so; I'll hold my tongue.
HERACLES. We are of a mind to grant you all that you ask. But come up
there with us to receive Basileia and the celestial bounty.
PISTHETAERUS. Here are birds already cut up, and very suitable for a
nuptial feast.
HERACLES. You go and, if you like, I will stay here to roast them.
PISTHETAERUS. You to roast them! you are too much the glutton; come along
with us.
HERACLES. Ah! how well I would have treated myself!
PISTHETAERUS. Let some bring me a beautiful and magnificent tunic for the
wedding.
CHORUS. [372] At Phanae,[373] near the Clepsydra,[374] there dwells a
people who have neither faith nor law, the Englottogastors,[375] who
reap, sow, pluck the vines and the figs[376] with their tongues; they
belong to a barbaric race, and among them the Philippi and the
Gorgiases[377] are to be found; 'tis these Englottogastorian Phillippi
who introduced the custom all over Attica of cutting out the tongue
separately at sacrifices. [378]
A MESSENGER. Oh, you, whose unbounded happiness I cannot express in
words, thrice happy race of airy birds, receive your king in your
fortunate dwellings. More brilliant than the brightest star that illumes
the earth, he is approaching his glittering golden palace; the sun itself
does not shine with more dazzling glory. He is entering with his bride at
his side[379] whose beauty no human tongue can express; in his hand he
brandishes the lightning, the winged shaft of Zeus; perfumes of
unspeakable sweetness pervade the ethereal realms. 'Tis a glorious
spectacle to see the clouds of incense wafting in light whirlwinds before
the breath of the Zephyr! But here he is himself. Divine Muse! let thy
sacred lips begin with songs of happy omen.
CHORUS. Fall back! to the right! to the left! advance! [380] Fly around
this happy mortal, whom Fortune loads with her blessings. Oh! oh! what
grace! what beauty! Oh, marriage so auspicious for our city! All honour
to this man! 'tis through him that the birds are called to such glorious
destinies. Let your nuptial hymns, your nuptial songs, greet him and his
Basileia! 'Twas in the midst of such festivities that the Fates formerly
united Olympian Here to the King who governs the gods from the summit of
his inaccessible throne. Oh! Hymen! oh! Hymenaeus! Rosy Eros with the
golden wings held the reins and guided the chariot; 'twas he, who
presided over the union of Zeus and the fortunate Here. Oh! Hymen! oh!
Hymenaeus!
