PISTHETAERUS
Stop! stop! you drive me crazy with your endless list. Why,
wretch, to what sacred feast are you inviting the vultures and
the sea-eagles? Don't you see that a single kite could easily carry off
the lot at once? Begone, you and your fillets and all; I shall know
how to complete the sacrifice by myself.

PRIEST
It is imperative that I sing another sacred chant for the rite
of the lustral water, and that I invoke the immortals, or at least one
of them, provided always that you have some suitable food to offer
him; from what I see here, in the shape of gifts, there is naught
whatever but horn and hair.

PISTHETAERUS
Let us address our sacrifices and our prayers to the winged gods.

A POET
Oh, Muse! celebrate happy Nephelococcygia in your hymns.

PISTHETAERUS
What have we here? Where did you come from, tell me? Who are you?

POET
I am he whose language is sweeter than honey, the zealous slave
of the Muses, as Homer has it.

PISTHETAERUS
You a slave! and yet you wear your hair long?