No, it's rather the plain of Phlegra, where the gods withered the pride of the sons of the Earth with their shafts. Leader of the Chorus Oh! what a splendid city! But what god shall be its patron? for whom shall we weave the peplus? Euelpides Why not choose Athena Polias? Pisthetaerus Oh! what a well-ordered town it would be to have a female deity armed from head to foot, while Clisthenes was spinning! Leader of the Chorus Who then shall guard the Pelargicon? Pisthetaerus A bird Leader of the Chorus One of us? What kind of bird? Pisthetaerus A bird of Persian strain, who is everywhere proclaimed to be the bravest of all, a true chick of Ares. Euelpides Oh! noble chick! Pisthetaerus Because he is a god well suited to live on the rocks. Come! into the air with you to help the workers who are building the wall; carry up rubble, strip yourself to mix the mortar, take up the hod, tumble down the ladder, if you like, post sentinels, keep the fire smouldering beneath the ashes, go round the walls, bell in hand, and go to sleep up there yourself; then despatch two heralds, one to the gods above, the other to mankind on earth and come back here. Euelpides As for yourself, remain here, and may the plague take you for a troublesome fellow! 
 He departs. Pisthetaerus Go, friend, go where I send you, for without you my orders cannot be obeyed. For myself, I want to sacrifice to the new god, and I am going to summon the priest who must preside at the ceremony. Slaves! slaves! bring forward the basket and the lustral water. Chorus Singing. I do as you do, and I wish as you wish, and I implore you to address powerful and solemn prayers to the gods, and in addition to immolate a sheep as a token of our gratitude. Let us sing the Pythian chant in honor of the god, and let Chaeris accompany our voices. Pisthetaerus To the flute-player. Enough! but, by Heracles! what is this? Great gods! I have seen many prodigious things, but I never saw a muzzled raven. 
 The Priest arrives. Priest! it's high time! Sacrifice to the new gods. Priest I begin, but where is the man with the basket? Pray to the Hestia of the birds, to the kite, who presides over the hearth, and to all the god and goddess-birds who dwell in Olympus . . . Pisthetaerus Oh! Hawk, the sacred guardian of Sunium, oh, god of the storks! Priest . . . to the swan of Delos , to Leto the mother of the quails, and to Artemis, the goldfinch . . . Pisthetaerus It's no longer Artemis Colaenis, but Artemis the goldfinch. Priest . . . to Bacchus, the finch and Cybele, the ostrich and mother of the gods and mankind. . . Pisthetaerus Oh! sovereign ostrich Cybele, mother of Cleocritus! Priest . . . to grant health and safety to the Nephelococcygians as well as to the dwellers in Chios . . . Pisthetaerus The dwellers in Chios ! Ah! I am delighted they should be thus mentioned on all occasions.