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Than all that land in Thrace, the fabulous plain

Of Phlegra; where those earthborn landed Giants

Were bullied and out-vapoured by the gods. Eu. It will be a genteelish, smart concern, I reckon,

This city of ours Which of the Deities

Shall we have for a patron? We must weave our mantle,

Our sacred mantle of course the yearly mantle

To one or other of 'em. Peis. Well, Minerva?

Why should not we have Minerva? she's established,

Let her continue; she'll do mighty well. Eu. No—there I object; for a well-ordered city,

The example would be scandalous; to see

The Goddess, a female born, in complete armour

From head to foot; and Cleisthenes with a distaff. Peis. What warden will ye appoint for the Eagle tower,

Your Citadel, the fort upon the rock? Hoo. That charge will rest with a chief of our own choice,

Of Persian race, a chicken of the game,

An eminent warrior. Eu. Oh my chicky-hiddy—

My little master. I should like to see him,

Strutting about and roosting on the rock. Peis. Come, you now! please to step to the atmosphere;

And give a look to the work, and help the workmen;

And between whiles fetch brick and tiles, and such like;

Draw water, stamp the mortar—do it barefoot;

Climb up the ladders; tumble down again:

Keep constant watch and ward; conceal your watch lights;

Then go the rounds, and give the countersign,

Till you fall fast asleep. Send heralds off,

A brace of them—one to the gods above;

And another, down below there, to mankind.

Bid them, when they return, inquire for me. Eu. For me! For me! You may be hanged for me. Peis. Come, friend, go where I bid you; never mind;

The business can't go on without you, anyhow.

It's just a sacrifice to these new deities,