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For Delphi, for Ammon, Dodona, in fine

For every oracular temple and shrine,

The birds are a substitute equal and fair,

For on us you depend, and to us you repair

For counsel and aid when a marriage is made,

A purchase, a bargain, a venture in trade:

Unlucky or lucky, whatever has struck ye—

An ox or an ass that may happen to pass,

A voice in the street, or a slave that you meet,

A name or a word by chance overheard—

If you deem it an omen, you call it a bird;

And if birds are your omens, it clearly will follow

That birds are a proper prophetic Apollo."—(F.)

The Birds proceed at once to build their new city. Peisthetærus prefers helping with his head rather than his hands, but he orders off his simple-minded companion to assist them in the work.

Peis. Come now, go aloft, my boy, and tend the masons;

Find them good stones; strip to it, like a man,

And mix the mortar; carry up the hod—

And tumble down the ladder, for a change.

Set guards over the wall; take care of fire;

Go your rounds with the bell as city watchman—

And go to sleep on your post—as I know you will.

Euelp. (sulkily). And you stay here and be hanged, if

you like—there, now!

Peis. (winking at the King). Go! there's a good fellow,

go! upon my word,

They couldn't possibly get on without you.

The building is completed, by the joint exertions of the Birds, in a shorter time than even the enthusiastic speculations of Peisthetærus had calculated:—