CINESIAS. ... now rushing along the tracks of Notus, now nearing Boreas across the infinite wastes of the ether." (_Pisthetaerus beats him._) Ah! old man, that's a pretty and clever idea truly! PISTHETAERUS. What! are you not delighted to be cleaving the air?[334] CINESIAS. To treat a dithyrambic poet, for whom the tribes dispute with each other, in this style![335] PISTHETAERUS. Will you stay with us and form a chorus of winged birds as slender as Leotrophides[336] for the Cecropid tribe? CINESIAS. You are making game of me, 'tis clear; but know that I shall never leave you in peace if I do not have wings wherewith to traverse the air. AN INFORMER. What are these birds with downy feathers, who look so pitiable to me? Tell me, oh swallow with the long dappled wings.[337] PISTHETAERUS. Oh! but 'tis a perfect invasion that threatens us. Here comes another of them, humming along. INFORMER. Swallow with the long dappled wings, once more I summon you. PISTHETAERUS. It's his cloak I believe he's addressing; 'faith, it stands in great need of the swallows' return.[338] INFORMER. Where is he who gives out wings to all comers? PISTHETAERUS. 'Tis I, but you must tell me for what purpose you want them. INFORMER. Ask no questions. I want wings, and wings I must have. PISTHETAERUS. Do you want to fly straight to Pellené?[339] INFORMER. I? Why, I am an accuser of the islands,[340] an informer ... PISTHETAERUS. A fine trade, truly! INFORMER. ... a hatcher of lawsuits. Hence I have great need of wings to prowl round the cities and drag them before justice. PISTHETAERUS. Would you do this better if you had wings? INFORMER. No, but I should no longer fear the pirates; I should return with the cranes, loaded with a supply of lawsuits by way of ballast. PISTHETAERUS. So it seems, despite all your youthful vigour, you make it your trade to denounce strangers? INFORMER. Well, and why not? I don't know how to dig. PISTHETAERUS. But, by Zeus! there are honest ways of gaining a living at your age without all this infamous trickery. 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?