If there be one of you spectators who wishes to spend the rest of his life quietly among the birds, let him come to us. All that is disgraceful and forbidden by law on earth is on the contrary honourable among us, the birds. For instance, among you 'tis a crime to beat your father, but with us 'tis an estimable deed; it's considered fine to run straight at your father and hit him, saying, "Come, lift your spur if you want to fight."[260] The runaway slave, whom you brand, is only a spotted francolin with us.[261] Are you Phrygian like Spintharus?[262] Among us you would be the Phrygian bird, the goldfinch, of the race of Philemon.[263] Are you a slave and a Carian like Execestides? Among us you can create yourself forefathers;[264] you can always find relations. Does the son of Pisias want to betray the gates of the city to the foe? Let him become a partridge, the fitting offspring of his father; among us there is no shame in escaping as cleverly as a partridge. So the swans on the banks of the Hebrus, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx, mingle their voices to serenade Apollo, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx, flapping their wings the while, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx; their notes reach beyond the clouds of heaven; all the dwellers in the forests stand still with astonishment and delight; a calm rests upon the waters, and the Graces and the choirs in Olympus catch up the strain, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx. There is nothing more useful nor more pleasant than to have wings. To begin with, just let us suppose a spectator to be dying with hunger and to be weary of the choruses of the tragic poets; if he were winged, he would fly off, go home to dine and come back with his stomach filled. Some Patroclides in urgent need would not have to soil his cloak, but could fly off, satisfy his requirements, and, having recovered his breath, return. If one of you, it matters not who, had adulterous relations and saw the husband of his mistress in the seats of the senators, he might stretch his wings, fly thither, and, having appeased his craving, resume his place. Is it not the most priceless gift of all, to be winged? Look at Diitrephes![265] His wings were only wicker-work ones, and yet he got himself chosen Phylarch and then Hipparch; from being nobody, he has risen to be famous; 'tis now the finest gilded cock of his tribe.[266] PISTHETAERUS. Halloa! What's this? By Zeus! I never saw anything so funny in all my life.[267] EUELPIDES. What makes you laugh? PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis your bits of wings. D'you know what you look like? Like a goose painted by some dauber-fellow. EUELPIDES. And you look like a close-shaven blackbird. PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis ourselves asked for this transformation, and, as Aeschylus has it, "These are no borrowed feathers, but truly our own."[268] EPOPS. Come now, what must be done? PISTHETAERUS. First give our city a great and famous name, then sacrifice to the gods. EUELPIDES. I think so too.