creatures perish beneath the lash of my wing. I hear it proclaimed
everywhere: "A talent for him who shall kill Diagoras of Melos,[1]
and a talent for him who destroys one of the dead tyrants."[2]
We likewise wish to make our proclamation: "A talent to him among you
who shall kill Philocrates, the Struthian;[3] four, if he
brings him to us alive. For this Philocrates skewers the finches
together and sells them at the rate of an obolus for seven. He
tortures the thrushes by blowing them out, so that they may look
bigger, sticks their own feathers into the nostrils of blackbirds, and
collects pigeons, which he shuts up and forces them, fastened in a
net, to decoy others." That is what we wish to proclaim. And if anyone
is keeping birds shut up in his yard, let him hasten to let them
loose; those who disobey shall be seized by the birds and we shall put
them in chains, so that in their turn they may decoy other men.

Happy indeed is the race of winged birds who need no cloak in winter!
Neither do I fear the relentless rays of the fiery dog-days;
when the divine grasshopper, intoxicated with the sunlight, when noon
is burning the ground, is breaking out into shrill melody; my home
is beneath the foliage in the flowery meadows. I winter in deep
caverns, where I frolic with the mountain nymphs, while in spring
I despoil the gardens of the Graces and gather the white, virgin berry
on the myrtle bushes.

I want now to speak to the judges about the prize they are going
to award; if they are favourable to us, we will load them with
benefits far greater than those Paris[4] received. Firstly, the owls
of Laurium,[5] which every judge desires above all things, shall never
be wanting to you; you shall see them homing with you, building their
nests in your money-bags and laying coins. Besides, you shall be