CINESIAS. "I want to become a bird, a tuneful nightingale."
PISTHETAERUS. Enough of that sort of ditty. Tell me what you want.
CINESIAS. Give me wings and I will fly into the topmost airs to gather fresh songs in the clouds, in the midst of the vapours and the fleecy snow.
PISTHETAERUS. Gather songs in the clouds?
CINESIAS. 'Tis on them the whole of our latter-day art depends. The most brilliant dithyrambs are those that flap their wings in void space and are clothed in mist and dense obscurity. To appreciate this, just listen.
PISTHETAERUS. Oh! no, no, no!
CINESIAS. By Hermes! but indeed you shall. "I shall travel through thine ethereal empire like a winged bird, who cleaveth space with his long neck...."
PISTHETAERUS. Stop! easy all, I say![333]
[333] The Greek word used here was the word of command employed to stop the rowers.
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