* All Greek from the original edition has been transliterated into Roman characters.

     Strepsiades
     Phidippides
     Servant of Strepsiades
     Disciples of Socrates
     Socrates
     Chorus of Clouds
     Just Cause
     Unjust Cause
     Pasias
     Amynias
     Witness
     Chaerephon

     Scene: The interior of a sleeping-apartment:
     Strepsiades, Phidippides, and two servants are in their
     beds; a small house is seen at a distance. Time:
     midnight.

     Strepsiades (sitting up in his bed). Ah me! Ah me! O
     King Jupiter, of what a terrible length the nights are!
     Will it never be day? And yet long since I heard the
     cock. My domestics are snoring; but they would not have
     done so heretofore! May you perish then, O war! For many
     reasons; because I may not even punish my domestics.
     Neither does this excellent youth awake through the
     night; but takes his ease, wrapped up in five blankets.
     Well, if it is the fashion, let us snore wrapped up.

     [Lies down, and then almost immediately starts up
     again.]

     But I am not able, miserable man, to sleep, being
     tormented by my expenses, and my stud of horses, and my
     debts, through this son of mine. He with his long hair,
     is riding horses and driving curricles, and dreaming of
     horses; while I am driven to distraction, as I see the
     moon bringing on the twentieths;  for the interest is
     running on. Boy! Light a lamp, and bring forth my
     tablets, that I may take them and read to how many I am
     indebted, and calculate the interest.

     [Enter boy with a light and tablets.]

     Come, let me see; what do I owe? Twelve minae  to
     Pasias. Why twelve minae to Pasias? Why did I borrow
     them? When I bought the blood-horse. Ah me, unhappy!
     Would that it had had its eye knocked out with a stone
     first!

     Phidippides (talking in his sleep). You are acting
     unfairly, Philo! Drive on your own course.

     Strep. This is the bane that has destroyed me; for even
     in his sleep he dreams about horsemanship.

     Phid. How many courses will the war-chariots run?

     Strep. Many courses do you drive me, your father. But
     what debt came upon me after Pasias? Three minae to
     Amynias for a little chariot and pair of wheels.

     Phid. Lead the horse home, after having given him a good
     rolling.

     Strep. O foolish youth, you have rolled me out of my
     possessions; since I have been cast in suits, and others
     say that they will have surety given them for the
     interest.

     Phid. (awakening) Pray, father, why are you peevish, and
     toss about the whole night?

     Strep. A bailiff out of the bedclothes is biting
     me.

     Phid. 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 to be without
     a horse. But I'll go in, and pay no heed to you.

     [Exit Phidippides.]

     Strep. Though fallen, still I will not lie prostrate:
     but having prayed to the gods, I will go myself to the
     thinking-shop and get taught. How, then, being an old
     man, shall I learn the subtleties of refined
     disquisitions? I must go. Why thus do I loiter and not
     knock at the door?

     [Knocks at the door.]

     Boy! Little boy!

     Disciple (from within). Go to the devil! Who it is that
     knocked at the door?

     Strep. Strepsiades, the son of Phidon, of Cicynna.

     Dis. You are a stupid fellow, by Jove! who have kicked
     against the door so very carelessly, and have caused the
     miscarriage of an idea which I had conceived.

     Strep. Pardon me; for I dwell afar in the country. But
     tell me the thing which has been made to miscarry.

     Dis. It is not lawful to mention it, except to
     disciples.

     Strep. Tell it, then, to me without fear; for I here am
     come as a disciple to the thinking-shop.

     Dis. I will tell you; but you must regard these as
     mysteries. Socrates lately asked Chaerephon  about a
     flea, how many of its own feet it jumped; for after
     having bit the eyebrow of Chaerephon, it leaped away
     onto the head of Socrates.

     Strep. How then did he measure this?

     Dis. Most cleverly. He melted some wax; and then took
     the flea and dipped its feet in the wax; and then a pair
     of Persian slippers stuck to it when cooled. Having
     gently loosened these, he measured back the distance.

     Strep. O King Jupiter! What subtlety of thought!

     Dis. What then would you say if you heard another
     contrivance of Socrates?

     Strep. Of what kind? Tell me, I beseech you!

     Dis. Chaerephon the Sphettian asked him whether he
     thought gnats buzzed through the mouth or the breech.

     Strep. What, then, did he say about the gnat?

     Dis. He said the intestine of the gnat was narrow and
     that the wind went forcibly through it, being slender,
     straight to the breech; and then that the rump, being
     hollow where it is adjacent to the narrow part,
     resounded through the violence of the wind.

     Strep. The rump of the gnats then is a trumpet! Oh,
     thrice happy he for his sharp-sightedness! Surely a
     defendant might easily get acquitted who understands the
     intestine of the gnat.

     Dis. But he was lately deprived of a great idea by a
     lizard.

     Strep. In what way? Tell me.

     Dis. As he was investigating the courses of the moon and
     her revolutions, then as he was gaping upward a lizard
     in the darkness dropped upon him from the roof.

     Strep. I am amused at a lizard's having dropped on
     Socrates.

     Dis. Yesterday evening there was no supper for us.

     Strep. Well. What then did he contrive for provisions?

     Dis. He sprinkled fine ashes on the table, and bent a
     little spit, and then took it as a pair of compasses and
     filched a cloak from the Palaestra.

     Strep. Why then do we admire Thales?  Open open quickly
     the thinking-shop, and show to me Socrates as quickly as
     possible. For I desire to be a disciple. Come, open the
     door.

     [The door of the thinking-shop opens and the pupils of
     Socrates are seen all with their heads fixed on the
     ground, while Socrates himself is seen suspended in the
     air in a basket.]

     O Hercules, from what country are these wild beasts?

     Dis. What do you wonder at? To what do they seem to you
     to be like?

     Strep. To the Spartans who were taken at Pylos.  But why
     in the world do these look upon the ground?

     Dis. They are in search of the things below the earth.

     Strep. Then they are searching for roots. Do not, then,
     trouble yourselves about this; for I know where there
     are large and fine ones. Why, what are these doing, who
     are bent down so much?

     Dis. These are groping about in darkness under Tartarus.

     Strep. Why then does their rump look toward heaven?

     Dis. It is getting taught astronomy alone by itself.

     [Turning to the pupils.]

     But go in, lest he meet with us.

     Strep. Not yet, not yet; but let them remain, that I may
     communicate to them a little matter of my own.

     Dis. It is not permitted to them to remain without in
     the open air for a very long time.

     [The pupils retire.]

     Strep. (discovering a variety of mathematical
     instruments) Why, what is this, in the name of heaven?
     Tell me.

     Dis. This is Astronomy.

     Strep. But what is this?

     Dis. Geometry.

     Strep. What then is the use of this?

     Dis. To measure out the land.

     Strep. What belongs to an allotment?

     Dis. No, but the whole earth.

     Strep. You tell me a clever notion; for the contrivance
     is democratic and useful.

     Dis. (pointing to a map) See, here's a map of the whole
     earth. Do you see? This is Athens.

     Strep. What say you? I don't believe you; for I do not
     see the Dicasts  sitting.

     Dis. Be assured that this is truly the Attic territory.

     Strep. Why, where are my fellow-tribesmen of Cicynna?

     Dis. Here they are. And Euboea here, as you see, is
     stretched out a long way by the side of it to a great
     distance.

     Strep. I know that; for it was stretched by us and
     Pericles.  But where is Lacedaemon?

     Dis. Where is it? Here it is.

     Strep. How near it is to us! Pay great attention to
     this, to remove it very far from us.

     Dis. By Jupiter, it is not possible.

     Strep. Then you will weep for it.

     [Looking up and discovering Socrates.]

     Come, who is this man who is in the basket?

     Dis. Himself.

     Strep. Who's "Himself"?

     Dis. Socrates.

     Strep. O Socrates! Come, you sir, call upon him loudly
     for me.

     Dis. Nay, rather, call him yourself; for I have no
     leisure.

     [Exit 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 sacred
     processions in honour of the blessed gods; and
     well-crowned sacrifices to the gods, and feasts, at all
     seasons; and with the approach of spring the Bacchic
     festivity, and the rousings of melodious choruses, and
     the loud-sounding music of flutes.

     Strep. Tell me, O Socrates, I beseech you, by Jupiter,
     who are these that have uttered this grand song? Are
     they some heroines?

     Soc. By no means; but heavenly Clouds, great divinities
     to idle men; who supply us with thought and argument,
     and intelligence and humbug, and circumlocution, and
     ability to hoax, and comprehension.

     Strep. On this account therefore my soul, having heard
     their voice, flutters, and already seeks to discourse
     subtilely, and to quibble about smoke, and having
     pricked a maxim with a little notion, to refute the
     opposite argument. So that now I eagerly desire, if by
     any means it be possible, to see them palpably.

     Soc. Look, then, hither, toward Mount Parnes;  for now I
     behold them descending gently.

     Strep. Pray where? Show me.

     Soc. See! There they come in great numbers through the
     hollows and thickets; there, obliquely.

     Strep. What's the matter? For I can't see them.

     Soc. By the entrance.

     [Enter Chorus]

     Strep. Now at length with difficulty I just see them.

     Soc. Now at length you assuredly see them, unless you
     have your eyes running pumpkins.

     Strep. Yes, by Jupiter! O highly honoured Clouds, for
     now they cover all things.

     Soc. Did you not, however, know, nor yet consider, these
     to be goddesses?

     Strep. No, by Jupiter! But I thought them to be mist,
     and dew, and smoke.

     Soc. For you do not know, by Jupiter! that these feed
     very many sophists, Thurian soothsayers, practisers of
     medicine, lazy-long-haired-onyx-ring-wearers,
     song-twisters for the cyclic dances, and meteorological
     quacks. They feed idle people who do nothing, because
     such men celebrate them in verse.

     Strep. For this reason, then, they introduced into their
     verses "the dreadful impetuosity of the moist,
     whirling-bright clouds"; and the "curls of
     hundred-headed Typho"; and the "hard-blowing tempests";
     and then "aerial, moist"; "crooked-clawed birds,
     floating in air"; and "the showers of rain from dewy
     Clouds". And then, in return for these, they swallow
     "slices of great, fine mullets, and bird's-flesh of
     thrushes."

     Soc. Is it not just, however, that they should have
     their reward, on account of these?

     Strep. Tell me, pray, if they are really clouds, what
     ails them, that they resemble mortal women? For they are
     not such.

     Soc. Pray, of what nature are they?

     Strep. I do not clearly know: at  any rate they resemble
     spread-out fleeces, and not women, by Jupiter! Not a
     bit; for these have noses.

     Soc. Answer, then, whatever I ask you.

     Strep. Then say quickly what you wish.

     Soc. Have you ever, when you; looked up, seen a cloud
     like to a centaur, or a panther, or a wolf, or a bull?

     Strep. By Jupiter, have I! But what of that?

     Soc. They become all things, whatever they please. And
     then if they see a person with long hair, a wild one of
     these hairy fellows, like the son of Xenophantes, in
     derision of his folly, they liken themselves to
     centaurs.

     Strep. Why, what, if they should see Simon,  a plunderer
     of the public property, what do they do?

     Soc. They suddenly become wolves, showing up his
     disposition.

     Strep. For this reason, then, for this reason, when they
     yesterday saw Cleonymus the recreant, on this account
     they became stags, because they saw this most cowardly
     fellow.

     Soc. And now too, because they saw Clisthenes, you
     observe, on this account they became women.

     Strep. Hail therefore, O mistresses! And now, if ever ye
     did to any other, to me also utter a voice reaching to
     heaven, O all-powerful queens.

     Cho. Hail, O ancient veteran, hunter after learned
     speeches! And thou, O priest of most subtle trifles!
     Tell us what you require? For we would not hearken to
     any other of the recent meteorological sophists, except
     to Prodicus;  to him, on account of his wisdom and
     intelligence; and to you, because you walk proudly in
     the streets, and cast your eyes askance, and endure many
     hardships with bare feet, and in reliance upon us
     lookest supercilious.

     Strep. O Earth, what a voice! How holy and dignified and
     wondrous!

     Soc. For, in fact, these alone are goddesses; and all
     the rest is nonsense.

     Strep. But come, by the Earth, is not Jupiter, the
     Olympian, a god?

     Soc. What Jupiter? Do not trifle. There is no Jupiter.

     Strep. What do you say? Who rains then? For first of all
     explain this to me.

     Soc. These to be sure. I will teach you it by powerful
     evidence. Come, where have you ever seen him raining at
     any time without Clouds? And yet he ought to rain in
     fine weather, and these be absent.

     Strep. By Apollo, of a truth you have rightly confirmed
     this by your present argument. And yet, before this, I
     really thought that Jupiter caused the rain. But tell me
     who is it that thunders. This makes me tremble.

     Soc. These, as they roll, thunder.

     Strep. In what way? you all-daring man!

     Soc. When they are full of much water, and are compelled
     to be borne along, being necessarily precipitated when
     full of rain, then they fall heavily upon each other and
     burst and clap.

     Strep. Who is it that compels them to borne along? Is it
     not Jupiter?

     Soc. By no means, but aethereal Vortex.

     Strep. Vortex? It had escaped my notice that Jupiter did
     not exist, and that Vortex now reigned in his stead. But
     you have taught me nothing as yet concerning the clap
     and the thunder.

     Soc. Have you not heard me, that I said that the Clouds,
     when full of moisture, dash against each other and clap
     by reason of their density?

     Strep. Come, how am I to believe this?

     Soc. I'll teach you from your own case. Were you ever,
     after being stuffed with broth at the Panathenaic
     festival,  then disturbed in your belly, and did a
     tumult suddenly rumble through it?

     Strep. Yes, by Apollo! And immediately the little broth
     plays the mischief with me, and is disturbed and rumbles
     like thunder, and grumbles dreadfully: at first gently
     pappax, pappax; and then it adds papa-pappax; and
     finally, it thunders downright papapappax, as they do.

     Soc. Consider, therefore, how you have trumpeted from a
     little belly so small; and how is it not probable that
     this air, being boundless, should thunder so loudly?

     Strep. For this reason, therefore, the two names also
     Trump and Thunder, are similar to each other. But teach
     me this, whence comes the thunderbolt blazing with fire,
     and burns us to ashes when it smites us, and singes
     those who survive. For indeed Jupiter evidently hurls
     this at the perjured.

     Soc. Why, how then, you foolish person, and savouring of
     the dark ages and antediluvian, if his manner is to
     smite the perjured, does he not blast Simon, and
     Cleonymus, and Theorus? And yet they are very perjured.
     But he smites his own temple, and Sunium the promontory
     of Athens, and the tall oaks. Wherefore, for indeed an
     oak does not commit perjury.

     Strep. I do not know; but you seem to speak well. For
     what, pray, is the thunderbolt?

     Soc. When a dry wind, having been raised aloft, is
     inclosed in these Clouds, it inflates them within, like
     a bladder; and then, of necessity, having burst them, it
     rushes out with vehemence by reason of its density,
     setting fire to itself through its rushing and
     impetuosity.

     Strep. By Jupiter, of a truth I once experienced this
     exactly at the Diasian  festival! I was roasting a
     haggis for my kinsfolk, and through neglect I did not
     cut it open; but it became inflated and then suddenly
     bursting, befouled my eyes and burned my face.

     Cho. O mortal, who hast desired great wisdom from us!
     How happy will you become among the Athenians and among
     the Greeks, if you be possessed of a good memory, and be
     a deep thinker, and endurance of labour be implanted in
     your soul, and you be not wearied either by standing or
     walking, nor be exceedingly vexed at shivering with
     cold, nor long to break your fast, and you refrain from
     wine, and gymnastics, and the other follies, and
     consider this the highest excellence, as is proper a
     clever man should, to conquer by action and counsel, and
     by battling with your tongue.

     Strep. As far as regards a sturdy spirit, and care that
     makes one's bed uneasy, and a frugal spirit and
     hard-living and savory-eating belly, be of good courage
     and don't trouble yourself; I would offer myself to
     hammer on, for that matter.

     Soc. Will you not, pray, now believe in no god, except
     what we believe in—this Chaos, and the Clouds, and the
     Tongue—these three?

     Strep. Absolutely I would not even converse with the
     others, not even if I met them; nor would I sacrifice to
     them, nor make libations,  nor offer frankincense.

     Cho. Tell us then boldly, what we must do for you? For
     you shall not fail in getting it, if you honour and
     admire us, and seek to become clever.

     Strep. O mistresses, I request of you then this very
     small favour, that I be the best of the Greeks in
     speaking by a hundred stadia.

     Cho. Well, you shall have this from us, so that
     hence-forward from this time no one shall get more
     opinions passed in the public assemblies than you.

     Strep. Grant me not to deliver important opinions; for I
     do not desire these, but only to pervert the right for
     my own advantage, and to evade my creditors.

     Cho. Then you shall obtain what you desire; for you do
     not covet great things. But commit yourself without fear
     to our ministers.

     Strep. I will do so in reliance upon you, for necessity
     oppresses me, on account of the blood-horses, and the
     marriage that ruined me. Now, therefore, let them use me
     as they please. I give up this body to them to be
     beaten, to be hungered, to be troubled with thirst, to
     be squalid, to shiver with cold, to flay into a leathern
     bottle, if I shall escape clear from my debts, and
     appear to men to be bold, glib of tongue, audacious,
     impudent, shameless, a fabricator of falsehoods,
     inventive of words, a practiced knave in lawsuits, a
     law-tablet, a thorough rattle, a fox, a sharper, a
     slippery knave, a dissembler, a slippery fellow, an
     impostor, a gallows-bird, a blackguard, a twister, a
     troublesome fellow, a licker-up of hashes. If they call
     me this, when they meet me, let them do to me absolutely
     what they please. And if they like, by Ceres, let them
     serve up a sausage out of me to the deep thinkers.

     Cho. This man has a spirit not void of courage, but
     prompt. Know, that if you learn these matters from me,
     you will possess among mortals a glory as high as
     heaven.

     Strep. What shall I experience?

     Cho. You shall pass with me the most enviable of mortal
     lives the whole time.

     Strep. Shall I then ever see this?

     Cho. Yea, so that many be always seated at your gates,
     wishing to communicate with you and come to a conference
     with you, to consult with you as to actions and
     affidavits of many talents, as is worthy of your
     abilities.

     [To Socrates.]

     But attempt to teach the old man by degrees whatever you
     purpose, and scrutinize his intellect, and make trial of
     his mind.

     Soc. Come now, tell me your own turn of mind; in order
     that, when I know of what sort it is, I may now, after
     this, apply to you new engines.

     Strep. What? By the gods, do you purpose to besiege me?

     Soc. No; I wish to briefly learn from you if you are
     possessed of a good memory.

     Strep. In two ways, by Jove! If anything be owing to me,
     I have a very good memory; but if I owe unhappy man, I
     am very forgetful.

     Soc. Is the power of speaking, pray, implanted in your
     nature?

     Strep. Speaking is not in me, but cheating is.

     Soc. How, then, will you be able to learn?

     Strep. Excellently, of course.

     Soc. Come, then, take care that, whenever I propound any
     clever dogma about abstruse matters, you catch it up
     immediately.

     Strep. What then? Am I to feed upon wisdom like a dog?

     Soc. This man is ignorant and brutish—I fear, old man,
     lest you will need blows. Come, let me see; what do you
     do if any one beat you?

     Strep. I take the beating; and then, when I have waited
     a little while, I call witnesses to prove it; then
     again, after a short interval, I go to law.

     Soc. Come, then, lay down your cloak.

     Strep. Have I done any wrong?

     Soc. No; but it is the rule to enter naked.

     Strep. But I do not enter to search for stolen goods.

     Soc. Lay it down. Why do you talk nonsense?

     Strep. Now tell me this, pray. If I be diligent and
     learn zealously, to which of your disciples shall I
     become like?

     Soc. You will no way differ from Chaerephon in
     intellect.

     Strep. Ah me, unhappy! I shall become half-dead.

     Soc. Don't chatter; but quickly follow me hither with
     smartness.

     Strep. Then give me first into my hands a honeyed cake;
     for I am afraid of descending within, as if into the
     cave of Trophonius.

     Soc. Proceed; why do you keep poking about the door?

     [Exeunt Socrates and Strepsiades]

     Cho. Well, go in peace, for the sake of this your
     valour. May prosperity attend the man, because, being
     advanced into the vale of years, he imbues his intellect
     with modern subjects, and cultivates wisdom!

     [Turning to the audience.]

     Spectators, I will freely declare to you the truth, by
     Bacchus, who nurtured me! So may I conquer, and be
     accounted skillful, as that, deeming you to be clever
     spectators, and this to be the cleverest of my comedies,
     I thought proper to let you first taste that comedy,
     which gave me the greatest labour. And then I retired
     from the contest defeated by vulgar fellows, though I
     did not deserve it. These things, therefore, I object to
     you, a learned audience, for whose sake I was expending
     this labour. But not even thus will I ever willingly
     desert the discerning portion of you. For since what
     time my Modest Man and my Rake  were very highly praised
     here by an audience, with whom it is a pleasure even to
     hold converse, and I (for I was still a virgin, and it
     was not lawful for me as yet to have children) exposed
     my offspring, and another girl took it up, and owned it,
     and you generously reared and educated it, from this
     time I have had sure pledges of your good will toward
     me. Now, therefore, like that well-known Electra, has
     this comedy come seeking, if haply it meet with an
     audience so clever, for it will recognize, if it should
     see, the lock of its brother.  But see how modest she is
     by nature, who, in the first place, has come, having
     stitched to her no leathern phallus hanging down, red at
     the top, and thick, to set the boys a laughing;  nor yet
     jeered the bald-headed, nor danced the cordax;  nor does
     the old man who speaks the verses beat the person near
     him with his staff, keeping out of sight wretched
     ribaldry; nor has she rushed in with torches, nor does
     she shout iou, iou;  but has come relying on herself and
     her verses. And I, although so excellent a poet, do not
     give myself airs, nor do I seek to deceive you by twice
     and thrice bringing forward the same pieces; but I am
     always clever at introducing new fashions, not at all
     resembling each other, and all of them clever; who
     struck Cleon  in the belly when at the height of his
     power, and could not bear to attack him afterward when
     he was down. But these scribblers, when once Hyperbolus
     has given them a handle, keep ever trampling on this
     wretched man and his mother. Eupolis,  indeed, first of
     all craftily introduced his Maricas, having basely, base
     fellow, spoiled by altering my play of the Knights,
     having added to it, for the sake of the cordax, a
     drunken old woman, whom Phrynichus long ago poetized,
     whom the whale was for devouring. Then again Hermippus
     made verses on Hyperbolus; and now all others press hard
     upon Hyperbolus, imitating my simile of the eels.
     Whoever, therefore, laughs at these, let him not take
     pleasure in my attempts; but if you are delighted with
     me and my inventions, in times to come you will seem to
     be wise.

      I first invoke, to join our choral band, the mighty
     Jupiter, ruling on high, the monarch of gods; and the
     potent master of the trident, the fierce upheaver of
     earth and briny sea; and our father of great renown,
     most august Aether, life-supporter of all; and the
     horse-guider, who fills the plain of the earth with
     exceeding bright beams, a mighty deity among gods and
     mortals.

      Most clever spectators, come, give us your attention;
     for having been injured, we blame you to your faces. For
     though we benefit the state most of all the gods, to us
     alone of the deities you do not offer sacrifice nor yet
     pour libations, who watch over you. For if there should
     be any expedition without prudence, then we either
     thunder or drizzle small rain.  And then, when you were
     for choosing as your general the Paphlagonian tanner,
     hateful to the gods, we contracted our brows and were
     enraged; and thunder burst through the lightning; and
     the Moon forsook her usual paths; and the Sun
     immediately drew in his wick to himself, and declared he
     would not give you light, if Cleon should be your
     general. Nevertheless you chose him. For they say that
     ill counsel is in this city; that the gods, however,
     turn all these your mismanagements to a prosperous
     issue. And how this also shall be advantageous, we will
     easily teach you. If you should convict the cormorant
     Cleon of bribery and embezzlement, and then make fast
     his neck in the stocks, the affair will turn out for the
     state to the ancient form again, if you have mismanaged
     in any way, and to a prosperous issue.

     Hear me again, King Phoebus, Delian Apollo, who
     inhabitest the high-peaked Cynthian rock!  And thou,
     blessed goddess, who inhabitest the all-golden house of
     Ephesus,  in which Lydian damsels greatly reverence
     thee;  and thou, our national goddess, swayer of the
     aegis, Minerva,  guardian of the city! And thou, reveler
     Bacchus, who, inhabiting the Parnassian rock, sparklest
     with torches, conspicuous among the Delphic Bacchanals!