to beat your father, but with us 'tis an estimable deed; it's
considered fine to run straight at your father and hit him, saying,
"Come, lift your spur if you want to fight."[13] The runaway slave,
whom you brand, is only a spotted francolin with us.[14] Are you
Phrygian like Spintharus?[15] Among us you would be the Phrygian bird,
the goldfinch, of the race of Philemon.[16] Are you a slave and
a Carian like Execestides? Among us you can create yourself
fore-fathers;[17] you can always find relations. Does the son of Pisias
want to betray the gates of the city to the foe? Let him become
a partridge, the fitting offspring of his father; among us there is
no shame in escaping as cleverly as a partridge.

So the swans on the banks of the Hebrus, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx,
mingle their voices to serenade Apollo, tio, tio, tio, tio. tiotinx,
flapping their wings the while, tio, tio, tio, tio, tiotinx; their notes
reach beyond the clouds of heaven; all the dwellers in the forest stand
still with astonishment and delight; a calm rests upon the waters,
and the Graces and the choirs in Olympus catch up the strain, tio, tio,
tio, tio, tiotinx.

There is nothing more useful nor more pleasant than to have wings.
To begin with, just let us suppose a spectator to be dying with hunger
and to be weary of the choruses of the tragic poets; if he were
winged, he would fly off, go home to dine and come back with his
stomach filled. Some Patroclides in urgent need would not have to
soil his cloak, but could fly off, satisfy his requirements, and,
having recovered his breath, return. If one of you, it matters not who,
had adulterous relations and saw the husband of his mistress
in the seats of the senators, he might stretch his wings, fly thither,
and, having appeased his craving, resume his place. Is it not