The Clouds | Page 4

Suffer me, good sir, to sleep a little.
Strep. Then, do you sleep on; but know that all these debts will turn on
your head.
[Phidippides falls asleep again.]
Alas! Would that the match-maker had perished miserably, who
induced me to marry your mother. For a country life used to be most
agreeable to me, dirty, untrimmed, reclining at random, abounding in
bees, and sheep, and oil-cake. Then I, a rustic, married a niece of
Megacles, the son of Megacles, from the city, haughty, luxurious, and
Coesyrafied. When I married her, I lay with her redolent of new wine,
of the cheese-crate, and abundance of wool; but she, on the contrary, of
ointment, saffron, wanton-kisses, extravagance, gluttony, and of Colias
and Genetyllis. I will not indeed say that she was idle; but she wove.
And I used to show her this cloak by way of a pretext and say "Wife,
you weave at a great rate."
Servant re-enters.
Servant. We have no oil in the lamp.
Strep. Ah me! Why did you light the thirsty lamp? Come hither that
you may weep!

Ser. For what, pray, shall I weep?
Strep. Because you put in one of the thick wicks.
[Servant runs out]
After this, when this son was born to us, to me, forsooth, and to my
excellent wife, we squabbled then about the name: for she was for
adding hippos to the name, Xanthippus, or Charippus, or Callipides;
but I was for giving him the name of his grandfather, Phidonides. For a
time therefore we disputed; and then at length we agreed, and called
him Phidippides. She used to take this son and fondle him, saying,
"When you, being grown up, shall drive your chariot to the city, like
Megacles, with a xystis." But I used to say, "Nay, rather, when dressed
in a leathern jerkin, you shall drive goats from Phelleus, like your
father." He paid no attention to my words, but poured a horse-fever
over my property. Now, therefore, by meditating the whole night, I
have discovered one path for my course extraordinarily excellent; to
which if I persuade this youth I shall be saved. But first I wish to awake
him. How then can I awake him in the most agreeable manner? How?
Phidippides, my little Phidippides?
Phid. What, father?
Strep. Kiss me, and give me your right hand!
Phid. There. What's the matter?
Strep. Tell me, do you love me?
Phid. Yes, by this Equestrian Neptune.
Strep. Nay, do not by any means mention this Equestrian to me, for this
god is the author of my misfortunes. But, if you really love me from
your heart, my son, obey me.
Phid. In what then, pray, shall I obey you?
Strep. Reform your habits as quickly as possible, and go and learn what
I advise.
Phid. Tell me now, what do you prescribe?
Strep. And will you obey me at all?
Phid. By Bacchus, I will obey you.
Strep. Look this way then! Do you see this little door and little house?
Phid. I see it. What then, pray, is this, father?
Strep. This is a thinking-shop of wise spirits. There dwell men who in
speaking of the heavens persuade people that it is an oven, and that it
encompasses us, and that we are the embers. These men teach, if one

give them money, to conquer in speaking, right or wrong.
Phid. Who are they?
Strep. I do not know the name accurately. They are minute
philosophers, noble and excellent.
Phid. Bah! They are rogues; I know them. You mean the quacks, the
pale-faced wretches, the bare-footed fellows, of whose numbers are the
miserable Socrates and Chaerephon.
Strep. Hold! Hold! Be silent! Do not say anything foolish. But, if you
have any concern for your father's patrimony, become one of them,
having given up your horsemanship.
Phid. I would not, by Bacchus, even if you were to give me the
pheasants which Leogoras rears!
Strep. Go, I entreat you, dearest of men, go and be taught.
Phid. Why, what shall I learn?
Strep. They say that among them are both the two causes--the better
cause, whichever that is, and the worse: they say that the one of these
two causes, the worse, prevails, though it speaks on the unjust side. If,
therefore you learn for me this unjust cause, I would not pay any one,
not even an obolus of these debts, which I owe at present on your
account.
Phid. I can not comply; for I should not dare to look upon the knights,
having lost all my colour.
Strep. Then, by Ceres, you shall not eat any of my good! Neither you,
nor your blood-horse; but I will drive you out of my house to the
crows.
Phid. My uncle Megacles will not permit me