HERACLES.
SERVANT of PISTHETAERUS.
MESSENGERS.
CHORUS OF BIRDS.

SCENE: A wild, desolate tract of open country; broken rocks and brushwood
occupy the centre of the stage.

* * * * *

THE BIRDS


EUELPIDES (_to his jay_).[175] Do you think I should walk straight for
yon tree?

PISTHETAERUS (_to his crow_). Cursed beast, what are you croaking to
me?... to retrace my steps?

EUELPIDES. Why, you wretch, we are wandering at random, we are exerting
ourselves only to return to the same spot; 'tis labour lost.

PISTHETAERUS. To think that I should trust to this crow, which has made
me cover more than a thousand furlongs!

EUELPIDES. And I to this jay, who has torn every nail from my fingers!

PISTHETAERUS. If only I knew where we were. . . .

EUELPIDES. Could you find your country again from here?