PISTHETAERUS. Did you get one? IRIS. Are you mad? PISTHETAERUS. No head-bird gave you a safe-conduct? IRIS. A safe-conduct to me, you poor fool! PISTHETAERUS. Ah! and so you slipped into this city on the sly and into these realms of air-land that don't belong to you. IRIS. And what other road can the gods travel? PISTHETAERUS. By Zeus! I know nothing about that, not I. But they won't pass this way. And you still dare to complain! Iris would ever have more justly suffered death. IRIS. I am immortal. PISTHETAERUS. You would have died nevertheless.--Oh! 'twould be truly intolerable! What! should the universe obey us and the gods alone continue their insolence and not understand that they must submit to the law of the strongest in their due turn? But tell me, where are you flying to? IRIS. I? The messenger of Zeus to mankind, I am going to tell them to sacrifice sheep and oxen on the altars and to fill their streets with the rich smoke of burning fat. PISTHETAERUS. Of which gods are you speaking? IRIS. Of which? Why, of ourselves, the gods of heaven. PISTHETAERUS. You, gods? IRIS. Are there others then? PISTHETAERUS. Men now adore the birds as gods, and 'tis to them, by Zeus, that they must offer sacrifices, and not to Zeus at all! IRIS. Oh! fool! fool! Rouse not the wrath of the gods, for 'tis terrible indeed. Armed with the brand of Zeus, Justice would annihilate your race; the lightning would strike you as it did Lycimnius and consume both your body and the porticos of your palace.[321] PISTHETAERUS. Here! that's enough tall talk. Just you listen and keep quiet! Do you take me for a Lydian or a Phrygian[322] and think to frighten me with your big words? Know, that if Zeus worries me again, I shall go at the head of my eagles, who are armed with lightning, and reduce his dwelling and that of Amphion to cinders.[323] I shall send more than six hundred porphyrions clothed in leopards' skins[324] up to heaven against him; and formerly a single Porphyrion gave him enough to do. As for you, his messenger, if you annoy me, I shall begin by stretching your legs asunder and so conduct myself, Iris though you be, that despite my age, you will be astonished. I will show you a fine long tool that will fuck you three times over. IRIS. May you perish, you wretch, you and your infamous words! PISTHETAERUS. Won't you be off quickly? Come, stretch your wings or look out for squalls! IRIS. If my father does not punish you for your insults.... PISTHETAERUS. Ha!... but just you be off elsewhere to roast younger folk than us with your lightning. CHORUS. We forbid the gods, the sons of Zeus, to pass through our city and the mortals to send them the smoke of their sacrifices by this road. PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis odd that the messenger we sent to the mortals has never returned. HERALD. Oh! blessed Pisthetaerus, very wise, very illustrious, very gracious, thrice happy, very.... Come, prompt me, somebody, do. PISTHETAERUS. Get to your story!