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.[1] How do you like them?
f[1] That is, whips--Corcyra being famous for these articles.
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 flights 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.[1]
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.[2]
f[1] Cleonymous is a standing butt of Aristophanes' wit, both as an informer
and a notorious poltroon.
f[2] In allusion to the cave of the bandit Orestes; the poet terms him a hero
only because of his heroic name Orestes.
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?[1]
f[1] Prometheus wants night to come and so reduce the risk
of being seen from Olympus.
PISTHETAERUS
Oh! 'pon my word! but you grow tiresome.
PROMETHEUS
What is Zeus doing? Is he dispersing the clouds or gathering them?[1]
f[1] The clouds would prevent Zeus seeing what was happening below him.
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.[1] The barbarian gods, who are dying of hunger,
are bawling like Illyrians[2] and threaten to make an armed descent
upon Zeus, if he does not open markets where joints of the victims
are sold.
f[1] The third day of the festival of Demeter was a fast.
f[2] A semi-savage people, addicted to violence and brigandage.
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?[1]
f[1] Who, being reputed a stranger despite his pretension to the title
of a citizen, could only have a strange god for his patron or
tutelary deity.
PISTHETAERUS
And what is the name of these gods?
PROMETHEUS
Their name? Why, the Triballi.[1]
f[1] The Triballi were a Thracian people; it was a term commonly used
in Athens to describe coarse men, obscene debauchees and greedy
parasites.
PISTHETAERUS
Ah, indeed! 'tis from that no doubt that we derive the word
'tribulation.'[1]
f[1] There is a similar pun in the Greek.
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[1] in marriage.
f[1] i.e. the 'supremacy' of Greece, the real object of the war.
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.[1]
f[1] Prometheus had stolen the fire from the gods to gratify mankind.
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;[1] 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.[2]
f[1] A celebrated misanthrope, contemporary to Aristophanes. Hating
the society of men, he had only a single friend, Apimantus, to whom
he was attached, because of their similarity of character; he also
liked Alcibiades, because he foresaw that this young man would be
the ruin of his country.
f[2] The Canephori were young maidens, chosen from the first families
of the city, who carried baskets wreathed with myrtle at the feast
of Athene, while at those of Bacchus and Demeter they appeared
with gilded baskets. --The daughters of 'Metics,' or resident aliens,
walked behind them, carrying an umbrella and a stool.
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