The Birds E-Book

- Aristophanes

• Herausgeber: Phoemixx Classics Ebooks
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 112

Beschreibung

The Birds Aristophanes - The Birds has long been hailed as one of the finest masterpieces written by Aristophanes (ca. 456 BC ca. 386 BC), the greatest of all classical Athenian comic dramatists. First performed in 414 BC, at the height of the Peloponnesian War, which pitted Athens against Sparta, the play celebrates the extraordinary character of Athens in a manner that is at once robust, lyrical, satiric, and full of ironic resonance. In the play, two Athenians, Pisthetairos and Euelpides, seek to escape the aggressively quarrelsome climate of Athens by hiking up into the mountains to seek advice from the birds about where they might find a more peaceful place to live, a city where they can relax and enjoy life. But once they begin interacting with the birds, the Athenians cannot resist persuading the creatures to organize themselves into a city state, so that they can exert pressure on the gods above and men below in order to gain power over them (for example, by controlling the gods access to human beings). The impromptu scheme escalates, and by the end of the play, Pisthetairos has supplanted the gods and now rules everything, an occasion which they all celebrate by eating a meal of cooked birds. Much of the play is taken up with the bawdy, energetic, and inventive comedy familiar to readers of Aristophanes. But underlying the humor is an ironic exploration of the Athenian character, which is far too restless and acquisitive, far too in love with ambitious scheming and, above all, with language itself, so that it cannot resist taking control of each and every situation.

Leseprobe

Aristophanes

The Birds

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Introduction

The Birds differs markedly from all the other comedies of Aristophanes which have come down to us in subject and general conception. It is just an extravaganza pure and simple—a graceful, whimsical theme chosen expressly for the sake of the opportunities it afforded of bright, amusing dialogue, pleasing lyrical interludes, and charming displays of brilliant stage effects and pretty dresses. Unlike other plays of the same author, there is here apparently no serious political motif underlying the surface burlesque and buffoonery.

Some critics, it is true, profess to find in it a reference to the unfortunate Sicilian Expedition, then in progress, and a prophecy of its failure and the political downfall of Alcibiades. But as a matter of fact, the whole thing seems rather an attempt on the dramatist's part to relieve the overwrought minds of his fellow-citizens, anxious and discouraged at the unsatisfactory reports from before Syracuse, by a work conceived in a lighter vein than usual and mainly unconnected with contemporary realities. The play was produced in the year 414 B.C., just when success or failure in Sicily hung in the balance, though already the outlook was gloomy, and many circumstances pointed to impending disaster. Moreover, the public conscience was still shocked and perturbed over the mysterious affair of the mutilation of the Hermæ, which had occurred immediately before the sailing of the fleet, and strongly suspicious of Alcibiades' participation in the outrage. In spite of the inherent charm of the subject, the splendid outbursts of lyrical poetry in some of the choruses and the beauty of the scenery and costumes, The Birds failed to win the first prize. This was acclaimed to a play of Aristophanes' rival, Amipsias, the title of which, The Comastœ, or Revellers, "seems to imply that the chief interest was derived from direct allusions to the outrage above mentioned and to the individuals suspected to have been engaged in it."

For this reason, which militated against its immediate success, viz. the absence of direct allusion to contemporary politics— there are, of course, incidental references here and there to topics and personages of the day—the play appeals perhaps more than any other of our author's productions to the modern reader. Sparkling wit, whimsical fancy, poetic charm, are of all ages, and can be appreciated as readily by ourselves as by an Athenian audience of two thousand years ago, though, of course, much is inevitably lost "without the important adjuncts of music, scenery, dresses and what we may call 'spectacle' generally, which we know in this instance to have been on the most magnificent scale."

The plot is this. Euelpides and Pisthetærus, two old Athenians, disgusted with the litigiousness, wrangling and sycophancy of their countrymen, resolve upon quitting Attica. Having heard of the fame of Epops (the hoopoe), sometime called Tereus, and now King of the Birds, they determine, under the direction of a raven and a jackdaw, to seek from him and his subject birds a city free from all care and strife." Arrived at the Palace of Epops, they knock, and Trochilus (the wren), in a state of great flutter, as he mistakes them for fowlers, opens the door and informs them that his Majesty is asleep. When he awakes, the strangers appear before him, and after listening to a long and eloquent harangue on the superior attractions of a residence among the birds, they propose a notable scheme of their own to further enhance its advantages and definitely secure the sovereignty of the universe now exercised by the gods of Olympus.

The birds are summoned to meet in general council. They come flying up from all quarters of the heavens, and after a brief mis- understanding, during which they come near tearing the two human envoys to pieces, they listen to the exposition of the latters' plan. This is nothing less than the building of a new city, to be called Nephelococcygia, or 'Cloud-cuckoo-town,' between earth and heaven, to be garrisoned and guarded by the birds in such a way as to intercept all communication of the gods with their worshippers on earth. All steam of sacrifice will be prevented from rising to Olympus, and the Immortals will very soon be starved into an acceptance of any terms proposed. The new Utopia is duly constructed, and the daring plan to secure the sovereignty is in a fair way to succeed. Meantime various quacks and charlatans, each with a special scheme for improving things, arrive from earth, and are one after the other exposed and dismissed. Presently arrives Prometheus, who informs Epops of the desperate straits to which the gods are by this time reduced, and advises him to push his claims and demand the hand of Basileia (Dominion), the handmaid of Zeus. Next an embassy from the Olympians appears on the scene, consisting of Heracles, Posidon and a god from the savage regions of the Triballians. After some disputation, it is agreed that all reasonable demands of the birds are to be granted, while Pisthetærus is to have Basileia as his bride. The comedy winds up with the epithalamium in honour of the nuptials.

Dramatis Personæ

Euelpides

Pisthetærus

Epops (the Hoopoe)

Trochilus, Servant to Epops

Phœnicopterus

Heralds

A Priest

A Poet

A Prophet

Meton, a Geometrician

A Commissioner

A Dealer in Decrees

Iris

A Parricide

Cinesias, a Dithyrambic Bard

An Informer

Prometheus

Posidon

Triballus

Heracles

Slaves of Pisthetærus

Messengers

Chorus of Birds

The Play

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

Euelpides (to his Jay)1Do you think I should walk straight for yon tree?

Pisthetærus (to his Crow)Cursed beast, what are you croaking to me?...to retrace my steps?

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

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

EuelpidesAnd that I to this jay, which has torn every nail from my fingers!

PisthetærusIf only I knew where we were....

EuelpidesCould you find your country again from here?

PisthetærusNo, I feel quite sure I could not, any more than could Execestides2 find his.

EuelpidesOh dear! oh dear!

PisthetærusAye, aye, my friend, 'tis indeed the road of "oh dears" we are following.

EuelpidesThat Philocrates, the bird-seller, played us a scurvy trick, when he pretended these two guides could help us to find Tereus3, the Epops, who is a bird, without being born of one. He has indeed sold us this jay, a true son of Tharelides,4 for an obolus, and this crow for three, but what can they do? Why, nothing whatever but bite and scratch! —What's the matter with you then, that you keep opening your beak? Do you want us to fling ourselves headlong down these rocks? There is no road that way.

PisthetærusNot even the vestige of a track in any direction.

EuelpidesAnd what does the crow say about the road to follow?

PisthetærusBy Zeus, it no longer croaks the same thing it did.

EuelpidesAnd which way does it tell us to go now?

PisthetærusIt says that, by dint of gnawing, it will devour my fingers.

EuelpidesWhat misfortune is ours! we strain every nerve to get to the birds,5 do everything we can to that end, and we cannot find our way! Yes, spectators, our madness is quite different from that of Sacas. He is not a citizen, and would fain be one at any cost; we, on the contrary, born of an honourable tribe and family and living in the midst of our fellow-citizens, we have fled from our country as hard as ever we could go. 'Tis not that we hate it; we recognize it to be great and rich, likewise that everyone has the right to ruin himself; but the crickets only chirrup among the fig-trees for a month or two, whereas the Athenians spend their whole lives in chanting forth judgments from their law-courts.6 That is why we started off with a basket, a stew-pot and some myrtle boughs7 and have come to seek a quiet country in which to settle. We are going to Tereus, the Epops, to learn from him, whether, in his aerial flights, he has noticed some town of this kind.

PisthetærusHere! look!

EuelpidesWhat's the matter?

PisthetærusWhy, the crow has been pointing me to something up there for some time now.

EuelpidesAnd the jay is also opening its beak and craning its neck to show me I know not what. Clearly, there are some birds about here. We shall soon know, if we kick up a noise to start them.

PisthetærusDo you know what to do? Knock your leg against this rock.

EuelpidesAnd you your head to double the noise.

PisthetærusWell then use a stone instead; take one and hammer with it.

EuelpidesGood idea! Ho there, within! Slave! slave!

PisthetærusWhat's that, friend! You say, "slave," to summon Epops! It would be much better to shout, "Epops, Epops!"

EuelpidesWell then, Epops! Must I knock again? Epops!

TrochilusWho's there? Who calls my master?

PisthetærusApollo the Deliverer! what an enormous beak!8

TrochilusGood god! they are bird-catchers.

EuelpidesThe mere sight of him petrifies me with terror. What a horrible monster.

TrochilusWoe to you!

EuelpidesBut we are not men.

TrochilusWhat are you, then?

EuelpidesI am the Fearling, an African bird.

TrochilusYou talk nonsense.

EuelpidesWell, then, just ask it of my feet.9

TrochilusAnd this other one, what bird is it?

PisthetærusI? I am a Cackling,10 from the land of the pheasants.

EuelpidesBut you yourself, in the name of the gods! what animal are you?

TrochilusWhy, I am a slave-bird.

EuelpidesWhy, have you been conquered by a cock?

TrochilusNo, but when my master was turned into a peewit, he begged me to become a bird too, to follow and to serve him.

EuelpidesDoes a bird need a servant, then?

Trochilus'Tis no doubt because he was a man. At times he wants to eat a dish of loach from Phalerum; I seize my dish and fly to fetch him some. Again he wants some pea-soup; I seize a ladle and a pot and run to get it.

EuelpidesThis is, then, truly a running-bird.11 Come, Trochilus, do us the kindness to call your master.

TrochilusWhy, he has just fallen asleep after a feed of myrtle-berries and a few grubs.

EuelpidesNever mind; wake him up.

TrochilusI an certain he will be angry. However, I will wake him to please you.

PisthetærusYou cursed brute! why, I am almost dead with terror!

EuelpidesOh! my god! 'twas sheer fear that made me lose my jay.

PisthetærusAh! you great coward! were you so frightened that you let go your jay?

EuelpidesAnd did you not lose your crow, when you fell sprawling on the ground? Pray tell me that.

PisthetærusNo, no.

EuelpidesWhere is it, then?

PisthetærusIt has flown away.

EuelpidesThen you did not let it go? Oh! you brave fellow!

EpopsOpen the forest,12 that I may go out!

EuelpidesBy Heracles! what a creature! what plumage! What means this triple crest?

EpopsWho wants me?

EuelpidesThe twelve great gods have used you ill, meseems.

EpopsAre you chaffing me about my feathers? I have been a man, strangers.

Euelpides'Tis not you we are jeering at.

EpopsAt what, then?

EuelpidesWhy, 'tis your beak that looks so odd to us.

EpopsThis is how Sophocles outrages me in his tragedies. Know, I once was Tereus.13

EuelpidesYou were Tereus, and what are you now? a bird or a peacock?14

EpopsI am a bird.

EuelpidesThen where are your feathers? For I don't see them.

EpopsThey have fallen off.

EuelpidesThrough illness?

EpopsNo. All birds moult their feathers, you know, every winter, and others grow in their place. But tell me, who are you?

EuelpidesWe? We are mortals.

EpopsFrom what country?

EuelpidesFrom the land of the beautiful galleys.15

EpopsAre you dicasts?16

EuelpidesNo, if anything, we are anti-dicasts.

EpopsIs that kind of seed sown among you?17

EuelpidesYou have to look hard to find even a little in our fields.

EpopsWhat brings you here?

EuelpidesWe wish to pay you a visit.

EpopsWhat for?

EuelpidesBecause you formerly were a man, like we are, formerly you had debts, as we have, formerly you did not want to pay them, like ourselves; furthermore, being turned into a bird, you have when flying seen all lands and seas. Thus you have all human knowledge as well as that of birds. And hence we have come to you to beg you to direct us to some cosy town, in which one can repose as if on thick coverlets.

EpopsAnd are you looking for a greater city than Athens?

EuelpidesNo, not a greater, but one more pleasant to dwell in.

EpopsThen you are looking for an aristocratic country.

EuelpidesI? Not at all! I hold the son of Scellias in horror.18

EpopsBut, after all, what sort of city would please you best?

Euelpides