Hear now the word divine, declared by the prophet ApolloDealing with shuddering strife that men wage, shrill with their screaming,Armed cap-a-pie with words, with arguments well-compacted.Hither and yon with the clucking that shifts to the side of the victorStrike they and bear to earth the towering stern of the plow-tail.Yet, when the locust shall fall 'neath the crooked claw of the vulture,Then the rain - bringing crows shall utter their ultimate portent.Victory lies with the mules, but the ass shall butt his fleet children.

Why do you burst out laughing at this, Momus? Surely there is nothing humorous in our present situation. Stop, wretch, or you will choke with laughing.

How can I help laughing at such a clear, straightforward oracle?

Then, perhaps, you will kindly interpret to us what he says.

It is perfectly plain, so that we shall not need Themistokles. The oracle says clearly that the seer is a juggler and that we are packasses, by Zeus! and mules to believe in him, with not the wit of a locust among us.