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Chorus
Singing.
This town will soon be inhabited by a crowd of men. [1315] Fortune favours us alone and thus they have fallen in love with our city.

Pisthetaerus
To the slave Manes, who brings in a basket full of wings.
Come, hurry up and bring them along.

Chorus
Will not man find here everything that can please him — [1320] wisdom, love, the divine Graces, the sweet face of gentle peace?

Pisthetaerus
As Manes comes in with another basket.
Oh! you lazy servant! won't you hurry yourself?

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