by Aristophanes
Your support and your advice to us
And rightly launch yourself to fight the gods,
At one with me in purpose and in mind,
The gods will not much longer disregard
My scepter and my sway.
LEADER: On matters that call for brawn, you can depend on us. On those that call for brain, you are in charge.
PEISETAIRUS: All right, this is no time to be asleep,
still less the time to catch the dawdlebug.
We’ve got to be resolute and fast.
TEREUS: Certainly, but first
will you deign to take a step
inside my nestlike nook of sticks and twigs,
and tell us please both your names.
PEISETAIRUS: Easily done. My name is Peisetairus,
and this gentleman here is Euelpides.
TEREUS: Delighted to meet you both.
PEISETAIRUS: Thank you, sir.
TEREUS: Please step this way.
PEISETAIRUS: Sure! Show us in.
TEREUS: Come along, then.
PEISETAIRUS: [hedging]
Hey, hold on a minute! Backwater and reverse.
How can I and my mate ever share a course
of action with you, when you can fly and we cannot?
TEREUS: Don’t fret!
PEISETAIRUS: Yes, but remember the tale in Aesop about the fox who agreed to share a course of action with an eagle And found himself in an awful fix.500
TEREUS: Not to worry. There is a magic root
that when chewed will make you put on wings.
PEISETAIRUS: Right! It’s settled, then. Let’s go in.
[to his SERVANTS]
Xanthias and Mandorus, handle the bags.
[to TEREUS]
A word, please, with you, sir.
TEREUS: What now?
PEISETAIRUS: Will you take these fellows along and give them a
dinner;
but from the choir of the Muses bring Procne here,
that nightingale, the magical singer.501
Leave her with us. We’d like to play with her.
TEREUS: An excellent idea! Fetch the chickabiddy from her haunts, the reeds.
EUELPIDES: Oh do bring her out from where she hides.
We as well would like to see the nightingale.
TEREUS: Of course, if that’s your will.
[PROCNE is ushered in, dressed as a girl piper, but beaked.]
PEISETAIRUS: Zeus in heaven, what a pretty chick! How soft and white!
EUELPIDES: Know what? I’d give a lot
to spread those legs.
PEISETAIRUS: And she’s in such lovely togs. Quite a girl!
EUELPIDES: Me, I’d like to smack a kiss upon that cheek.
PEISETAIRUS: And get yourself skewered by that double-barreled beak!
EUELPIDES: To plant a kiss we’d damn well have to peel away that shell like a hard-boiled egg.
TEREUS: Shall we go in?
PEISETAIRUS: After you, sir, I beg. . . . Smile on us, good fortune!
[TEREUS, PEISETAIRUS and EUELPIDES leave and go into TEREUS’ nest]
CHORUS: O beloved of warblers, O darlingest bird Who accompanies all my hymns, You, my nightingale: You have come, you have come, you are here Filling my ears with the sweetest notes Fitting your voice to the tune of spring With your limpid silvery flute As a prelude to our anapests.
LEADER: Listen, you mortals, you half-alive pests,
you bundle of leaves, you clay,
Race of shadows, wingless and weak
suffering things of a day.
You shades of a dream, poor mortals attend us,
us the truly immortal.
Us everlasting, ageless and always,
us the only eternal.
From us you can learn the intricate plan
of the entire empyrean:
The world of the birds, the birth of the gods,
the nature of the riparian
Flow, and of Erebus, Chaos. You can tell Prodicus502
as a favor to me to scram.
In the beginning was Night and Chaos
and the dead black pitiless rim
Of Erebus and the deadly plain
of Tartarus, no Sky,
No Earth, but from the beginning of time
in the bottomless womb of Hell
Black-winged Night gave birth to an egg,
which, as the seasons rolled by,
Hatched into Eros, with love on the wing
and golden wings all gleaming.
He coupled with Chaos in the dead of night
in the depths of Tartarus and
Sired our race and brought it to light.
There were no immortals until
Eros began his game of stirring
everything up, this with that,
Resulting in Ocean and Earth and the whole
ineluctable brood
Of the bliss-given gods, but we are more ancient
than that bliss-given crowd
And are manifest offspring of Eros,
and are able to fly,
And we are friends of passionate lovers:
many a comely lad
In the pristine blossom of youth who’s made
up his mind he won’t succumb,
Because of our power is finally had
between his beautiful thighs,
One by the gift of a quail, another
by the gift of a pink flamingo.
We spell out the seasons, just for size,
spring, winter, and autumn,
And the time to sow when the crane’s on the go
flapping his way to the south.
And we tell the mariner the time has come
to forget the tiller and snooze.
Orestes503 may be weaving a cloak
so he won’t catch a cold when he goes
Trouncing people. And soon it’s the kite’s
turn to appear forsooth,
Announcing the next step is in sight
when it’s time to shear
The springtime wool of the sheep, and then
comes the time of the swallow,
When you ought to be selling your overcoat
and buying yourself a jacket.
It’s also the period when we birds
become your Dodona,504
Your Delphi, Ammon, and Apollo.
Because unless you consult us birds,
you never make a move
In business, careers, or choosing a bride,
or knowing how to behave.
To make a decision you need a bird:
after an omen—a bird,
A sneeze—a bird; a coincidence—
a bird, and that rumor you heard—
A bird; and getting a servant—a bird;
an ass’s braying—a bird.
Surely you see that we’re your Apollo,505
your prophet, so doesn’t it follow
That if you will look on us just like gods
You’ll find a blessing in everything:
The charms of the Muses, breezes and seasons,
Winter or summer, mellow or hot;
And we won’t disappear like Zeus in the clouds
Sitting and primping; we’ll always be near,
Making sure that you and your children,
Yes, and your children’s children, too,
Are blessed with health, wealth, and happiness,
Peace, youth, festivals, dances,
Bird milk, too, and every success.
So don’t be surprised by what you have done.
You’ll do yourself in with enjoyment and fun:
This superrich person is you.
STROPHE
CHORUS: Muse of the woodlands Tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx I join you in song and trill in the vales Warbling in the mountain pinnacles Tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx Perched on the twig of a leafy ash Tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx Quavering with sacred song for Pan And the blessing of dance for Mother Rhea506 To-to-to-to-to-to-t
o-to-to-tinx Then like a pollen-gathering bee Phrynicus507 goes gathering the nectar Of ambrosial melody Exuding the honey of song. Tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx.
LEADER: If any among you in the audience
is slightly inclined
To happily weave your life with the birds,
be part with us.
For what you consider not at all fine
is honorable here
Among us birds. For example, it’s
simply not done
For you to give your father a biff:
not so up here.
We don’t consider it shameful if
one of us bombards
Our father with punches and shouts to him: “Dad,
if you must have a fight
Put up your fists.” And if you’re a branded
runaway cad,
Here you’d be called a speckled quail,
and if like Spintharus508
You’re a Phrygian nonentity,
up here you’d be
One of Philemon’s509 pigeons. And if,
like Execestides,‡
You’re a Carian slave, then please
link up with us,
Grow some feathers, and soon you’ll fix
yourself with a family.
And if the son of Peiseias§ likes
opening gates
To the enemy, then let him be a partridge
just like his dad,
For we don’t think there’s anything bad
in partridge tricks.¶
ANTISTROPHE
CHORUS: Just like the swans did
tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx
Beating their wings in time to the paean
Greeting in harmony great Apollo
tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx
Grouped on the banks of the Hebrus River
tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx
Whooping into the mists of heaven.
Beasts of the woods were stricken with wonder
to-to-to-to-to-to-to-to-to-tinx
The air made limpid, the ocean tender:
With music the whole of Olympus rang—
The Olympian lords were awed,
The Graces and muses sang
tio-tio-tio-tio-tinx.
LEADER: [to the audience]
For sheer enjoyment nothing can beat
putting on wings.
If for instance one of you had
a pair of the things
And became hungry and terribly bored
with a tragic play,
He could simply up it from here
and fly away,
Give himself lunch at home, and when
he’d had enough,
Fly back to us here. Or suppose
a Patrocleides character510
Among your audience had the trots,
he wouldn’t have splurged
All over himself—he’d have flitted off,
relieved himself,
Breathed in relief, and flitted back
here again.
Or if one of you happens to be
an adulterer
And suddenly sees seated among
the VIPs
The lady’s spouse, up he could rise
out of the audience
And fly like the wind for a first-class fuck,
then fly back.
So aren’t a pair of wings, I say,
priceless things?
Take Dieitrephes, for example.511
His only wings
Were painted on a bottle, but
nevertheless
That was enough to get him promoted
platoon commander,
Captain of cavalry, when of course
he came from nothing,
Yet managed to fly as high as they come:
a case of ride a cock horse.
[PEISETAIRUS and EUELPIDES reenter, now both winged.]
PEISETAIRUS: So we’ve duly arrived . . . but my God, I’ve never seen anything so absurd.
EUELPIDES: What are you laughing at?
PEISETAIRUS: You in feathers. Know what you look like in wings?
A slapdash portrait of a goose.
EUELPIDES: And you look like a molting blackbird. It reminds me of that piece in Aeschylus when the eagle says: “I’ve been struck with an arrow fletched with one of my feathers.”
LEADER: So what’s next?
PEISETAIRUS: We need to consider first
what would be a good name for our city,
something striking and distinguished. Then sacrifice to the
gods.
EUELPIDES: I agree to that.
LEADER: All right, what are you going to call our city?
PEISETAIRUS: Wouldn’t the Lacedaemonian name of Sparta
be striking and distinguished?
EUELPIDES: Are you dotty . . . ? I’d never
saddle my city with the name of Sparta.
I wouldn’t even stuff a mattress with esparto grass.512
I’d rather sleep on honest-to-goodness slats.
PEISETAIRUS: Well, what’s it to be, then?
LEADER: We need something that’s
really original and grand—
with clouds in it and celestial space.
PEISETAIRUS: How about Cloudcuckooland?
LEADER: Wow! That’s absolutely splendid.
EUELPIDES: It’s the place where Aeschines banks his millions,
and Theogenes his billions.513
PEISETAIRUS: More likely the plain of Phlegra,514
where the gods beat the Giants at bombast.
LEADER: Let it be a glittering city,
but who’ll be patron of the citadel
and wear Athena’s mantle?
PEISETAIRUS: Athena herself, of course!
EUELPIDES: How can a town be sound and healthy
when a female, a goddess in full panoply,
stands over it as boss
while Cleisthenes plies the distaff?515
LEADER: That doesn’t answer the question: who’s
going to guard the citadel?
PEISETAIRUS: One of our birds: a pheasant from Persia,
known all over the world as Ares’ ferocious chick.
EUELPIDES: [bowing] How d’you do, my lord Chick! Will you please to be a god and perch up on that rock?
PEISETAIRUS: [to EUELPIDES] Get on with you. It’s time to fly off
and give a hand to the builders of the wall,
shovel gravel for them, and roll up your sleeves to mix cement,
carry a hod, tumble off the ladder,
post the patrols, fan the brazier,
go round with the bell,
then come and report.
EUELPIDES: To hell with you! Report yourself.
PEISETAIRUS: Be a good fellow, please, and run along.
Without you none of those things will be done.
My job, meanwhile, is to sacrifice to the new deities.
I’ll ask the priest to begin the parade.
[calling]
Boy! Boy! . . . You boys can now proceed
with the basket and the lustral water.
[XANTHIAS and MANDORUS come in carrying the sacrificial necessities, accompanied by a FLUTE GIRL got up as a crow. EUELPIDES leaves in a huff.]
STROPHE516
CHORUS: I am willing and ready to follow
All your directions, and I’ll wend
My way to the gods singing hymns awesome and solemn.
And to foster a good impression
We’re offering a goat.
Shout, shout, shout with a pythian bellow
And let Chaeris517 on the flute whoop up our song.
[A PRIEST enters leading a goat.]
PEISETAIRUS: [to FLUTE GIRL] You can stop your piping. . . . My God! What are you? I’ve never seen anything so odd—a crow togged up as a piper!
Reverend sir, it’s all yours:
you can begin the ritual to the new gods.
PRIEST: Very well, I
’ll go ahead . . .
but where is the basket carrier?
[He waits for XANTHIAS, then speaks solemnly.]
All assembled here must now address in prayer:
the bird goddess Hestia and Kite the hearth protector,
then all ye birds of Olympia
and bird goddesses, too. . . .
PEISETAIRUS: And you, Lord Osprey of Cape Sunium, too . . .
PRIEST: And you Swan Apollo of Delphi and of Delos.518
And Leto Mother of Quails, and Artemis the Curlew . . .
PEISETAIRUS: That’s right: Artemis the Curlew,
not any more Artemis the Huntress.
PRIEST: And Sabazius the Pigeon,519
and Great Mother Ostrich, Mother of gods and men.
PEISETAIRUS: And Dame Ostrich Cybele,520 mother of Cleocritus.521
PRIEST:
Vouchsafe to grant to the people of Cloudcuckooland
health and happiness and to the Chians as well.522
PEISETAIRUS: Those Chians, they get themselves into everything—funny!
PRIEST: And to all those ornithological
Heroes and to heroes’ children,
Pink Flamingo, Stork, and Pelican,
Pheasant, Peacock, and
Reed Warbler, Teal,
Dabchick and Owl,
Heron, Gannet, Quail,
Blackcap and Blue tit . . .
PEISETAIRUS: Stop it, you nitwit—for God’s sake, stop it! Do you imagine the feast you’ll be offering will be fulsome enough for eagles and vultures? A single kite would snatch the lot. Remove yourself—you and your dog collar. I’ll do the sacrifice all by myself.
[The PRIEST leaves.]
ANTISTROPHE523
CHORUS: So let me again sing at your altar.
Let me utter a second song,
A hymn replete with pious refrains at the blessed ablution,
Carrying our invitation
To the holy divinities. . . .
No, to a single divinity—there won’t be enough:
The goat you have brought I’m afraid is naught but goatee with
horns.
PEISETAIRUS: Let us sacrifice and send up a prayer
to the winged gods of the air.
[A POET enters.]
