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?