Disciple.]
Strep. Socrates! My little Socrates!
Socrates. Why callest thou me, thou creature of a day?
Strep. First tell me, I beseech you, what are you doing.
Soc. I am walking in the air, and speculating about the sun.
Strep. And so you look down upon the gods from your basket, and not from the earth?
Soc. For I should not have rightly discovered things celestial if I had not suspended the intellect, and mixed the thought in a subtle form with its kindred air. But if, being on the ground, I speculated from below on things above, I should never have discovered them. For the earth forcibly attracts to itself the meditative moisture. Water-cresses also suffer the very same thing.
Strep. What do you say? Does meditation attract the moisture to the water-cresses? Come then, my little Socrates, descend to me, that you may teach me those things, for the sake of which I have come.
[Socrates lowers himself and gets out of the basket.]
Soc. And for what did you come?
Strep. Wishing to learn to speak; for by reason of usury, and most ill-natured creditors, I am pillaged and plundered, and have my goods seized for debt.
Soc. How did you get in debt without observing it?
Strep. A horse-disease consumed me--terrible at eating. But teach me the other one of your two causes, that which pays nothing; and I will swear by the gods, I will pay down to you whatever reward you exact of me.
Soc. By what gods will you swear? For, in the first place, gods are not a current coin with us.
Strep. By what do you swear? By iron money, as in Byzantium?
Soc. Do you wish to know clearly celestial matters, what they rightly are?
Strep. Yes, by Jupiter, if it be possible!
Soc. And to hold converse with the Clouds, our divinities?
Strep. By all means.
Soc. (with great solemnity). Seat yourself, then, upon the sacred couch.
Strep. Well, I am seated!
Soc. Take, then, this chaplet.
Strep. For what purpose a chaplet? Ah me! Socrates, see that you do not sacrifice me like Athamas!
Strep. No; we do all these to those who get initiated.
Strep. Then what shall I gain, pray?
Soc. You shall become in oratory a tricky knave, a thorough rattle, a subtle speaker. But keep quiet.
Strep. By Jupiter! You will not deceive me; for if I am besprinkled, I shall become fine flour.
Soc. It becomes the old man to speak words of good omen, and to hearken to my prayer. O sovereign King, immeasurable Air, who keepest the earth suspended, and through bright Aether, and ye august goddesses, the Clouds, sending thunder and lightning, arise, appear in the air, O mistresses, to your deep thinker!
Strep. Not yet, not yet, till I wrap this around me lest I be wet through. To think of my having come from home without even a cap, unlucky man!
Soc. Come then, ye highly honoured Clouds, for a display to this man. Whether ye are sitting upon the sacred snow-covered summits of Olympus, or in the gardens of Father Ocean form a sacred dance with the Nymphs, or draw in golden pitchers the streams of the waters of the Nile, or inhabit the Maeotic lake, or the snowy rock of Mimas, hearken to our prayer, and receive the sacrifice, and be propitious to the sacred rites.
[The following song is heard at a distance, accompanied by loud claps of thunder.]
Chorus. Eternal Clouds! Let us arise to view with our dewy, clear-bright nature, from loud-sounding Father Ocean to the wood-crowned summits of the lofty mountains, in order that we may behold clearly the far-seen watch-towers, and the fruits, and the fostering, sacred earth, and the rushing sounds of the divine rivers, and the roaring, loud-sounding sea; for the unwearied eye of Aether sparkles with glittering rays. Come, let us shake off the watery cloud from our immortal forms and survey the earth with far-seeing eye.
Soc. O ye greatly venerable Clouds, ye have clearly heard me when I called.
[Turning to Strepsiades.]
Did you hear the voice, and the thunder which bellowed at the same time, feared as a god?
Strep. I too worship you, O ye highly honoured, and am inclined to reply to the thundering, so much do I tremble at them and am alarmed. And whether it be lawful, or be not lawful, I have a desire just now to ease myself.
Soc. Don't scoff, nor do what these poor-devil-poets do, but use words of good omen, for a great swarm of goddesses is in motion with their songs.
Cho. Ye rain-bringing virgins, let us come to the fruitful land of Pallas, to view the much-loved country of Cecrops, abounding in brave men; where is reverence for sacred rites not to be divulged; where the house that receives the initiated is thrown open in holy mystic rites; and gifts to the celestial gods; and high-roofed temples, and statues; and most
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