Chorus: Popopopopopopopoi. Where is he who called me? Where am I to find him?
Epops: I have been waiting for you this long while! I never fail in my word to my friends.
Chorus: Titititititititi. What good thing have you to tell me?
Epops: Something that concerns our common safety, and that is just as pleasant as it is to the purpose. Two men, who are subtle reasoners, have come here to seek me.
Chorus: Where? What? What are you saying?
Epops: I say, two old men have come from the abode of men to propose a vast and splendid scheme to us.
Chorus: Oh! ’tis a horrible, unheard-of crime! What are you saying?
Epops: Nay! never let my words scare you.
Chorus: What have you done then?
Epops: I have welcomed two men, who wish to live with us.
Chorus: And you have dared to do that!
Epops: Aye, and am delighted at having done so.
Chorus: Where are they?
Epops: In your midst, as I am.
Chorus: Ah! ah! we are betrayed; ’tis sacrilege! Our friend, he who picked up corn-seeds in the same plains as ourselves, has violated our ancient laws; he has broken the oaths that bind all birds; he has laid a snare for me, he has handed us over to the attacks of that impious race which, throughout all time, has never ceased to war against us. As for this traitorous bird, we will decide his case later, but the two old men shall be punished forthwith; we are going to tear them to pieces.
Pisthetaerus: ’Tis all over with us.
Euelpides: You are the sole cause of all our trouble. Why did you bring me from down yonder?
Pisthetaerus: To have you with me.
Euelpides: Say rather to have me melt into tears.
Pisthetaerus: Go to! you are talking nonsense.
Euelpides: How so?
Pisthetaerus: How will you be able to cry when once your eyes are pecked out?
Chorus: Io! io! forward to the attack, throw yourselves upon the foe, spill his blood; take to your wings and surround them on all sides. Woe to them! let us get to work with our beaks, let us devour them. Nothing can save them from our wrath, neither the mountain forests, nor the clouds that float in the sky, nor the foaming deep. Come, peck, tear to ribbons. Where is the chief of the cohort? Let him engage the right wing.
Euelpides: This is the fatal moment. Where shall I fly to, unfortunate wretch that I am?
Pisthetaerus: Stay! stop here!