CHORUS War is begun, inexpressive war, War is begun twixt the Gods and me! Look out, look out, through the cloud-wrapt air Which erst the Darkness of Erebus bare, Lest a God slip by, and we fail to see. Glance eager-eyed on every side, For close at hand the wingéd sound I hear Of some Immortal hurtling through the Sky.
PEISTHETAERUS Hoi whither away there? whither away? Stop! stop! Stop where you are! keep quiet! stay! remain! Who, what, whence are you? where do you come from? Quick!
IRIS Whence do I come? From the Olympian Gods.
PEISTHETAERUS Your name! What is it? Sloop or Head-dress?
IRIS Iris The fleet.
PEISTHETAERUS The Paralus, or the Salaminian?
IRIS Why, what’s all this?
PEISTHETAERUS Fly up, some buzzard there, Fly up, and seize her.
IRIS ME! Seize ME, do you say? What the plague’s this?
PEISTHETAERUS You’ll find to your cost, directly.
IRIS Well now, this passes!
PEISTHETAERUS Answer! By what gates Got you within the city wall, Miss Minx?
IRIS I’faith, I know not, fellow, by what gates.
PEISTHETAERUS You hear the jade, how she prevaricates! Saw you the daw-commanders? What, no answer? Where’s your stork-pass?
IRIS My patience, what do you mean?
PEISTHETAERUS You never got one?
IRIS Have you lost your wits?
PEISTHETAERUS Did no bird-captain stick a label on you?
IRIS On ME? None stuck a label, wretch, on ME.
PEISTHETAERUS So then you thought in this sly stealthy way To fly through Chaos and a realm not yours.
IRIS And by what route, then, ought the Gods to fly?
PEISTHETAERUS I’faith, I know not. Only not by this. This is a trespass! If you got your rights, Of all the Irises that ever were You’d be most justly seized and put to death.
IRIS But I am deathless.
PEISTHETAERUS All the same for that
PEISTHETAERUS You should have died. A pretty thing, forsooth, If, whilst all else obey us, you the Gods Run riot, and forget that you in turn Must learn to yield obedience to your betters. But tell me, where do you navigate your wings?
IRIS I? From the Father to mankind I’m flying, To bid them on their bullock-slaughtering hearths Slay sheep to the Olympian Gods, and steam The streets with savour.
PEISTHETAERUS What do you say? What Gods?
IRIS What Gods? To us, the Gods in Heaven, of course.
PEISTHETAERUS (With supreme contempt.) What, are you Gods?
IRIS What other Gods exist?
PEISTHETAERUS Birds are now Gods to men; and men must slay Victims to them; and not, by Zeus, to Zeus.
IRIS O fool, fool, fool! Stir not the mighty wrath Of angry Gods, lest Justice, with the spade Of vengeful Zeus, demolish all thy race, And fiery vapour, with Licymnian strokes, Incinerate thy palace and thyself!
PEISTHETAERUS Now listen, girl; have done with that bombast. (Don’t move.) A Lydian or a Phrygian is it, You think to terrify with words like those?
PEISTHETAERUS Look here. If Zeus keep troubling me, I’ll soon Incinerate his great Amphion’s domes And halls of state with eagles carrying fire. And up against him, to high heaven, I’ll send More than six hundred stout Porphyrion rails All clad in leopard-skins. Yet I remember When one Porphyrion gave him toil enough. And as for you, his waiting-maid, if you Keep troubling me with your outrageous ways, I’ll outrage you, and you’ll be quite surprised To find the strength of an old man like me.
IRIS O shame upon you, wretch, your words and you.
PEISTHETAERUS Now then begone; shoo, shoo! Eurax patax!
IRIS My father won’t stand this; I vow he won’t.
PEISTHETAERUS Now Zeus-a-mercy, maiden; fly you off, Incinerate some younger man than I.
CHORUS Never again shall the Zeus-born Gods, Never again shall they pass this way! Never again through this realm of ours Shall men send up to the heavenly Powers The savour of beasts which on earth they slay!
PEISTHETAERUS Well but that herald whom we sent to men, ’Tis strange if he should nevermore return.
HERALD O Peisthetaerus, O thou wisest, best, Thou wisest, deepest, happiest of mankind, Most glorious, most—O give the word!
PEISTHETAERUS What news?
HERALD Accept this golden crown, wherewith all peoples Crown and revere thee for thy wisdom’s sake!
PEISTHETAERUS I do. What makes them all revere me so?
HERALD O thou who hast built the etherial glorious city; Dost thou not know how men revere thy name, And burn with ardour for this realm of thine? Why, till ye built this city in the air, All men had gone Laconian-mad; they went
Cite This Text