No More Learning

PHIDIPPIDES. Believe you? about what?

STREPSIADES. Alter your habits forthwith and go and learn what I tell
you.

PHIDIPPIDES. Say on, what are your orders?

STREPSIADES. Will you obey me ever so little?

PHIDIPPIDES. By Bacchus, I will obey you.

STREPSIADES. Very well then! Look this way. Do you see that little door
and that little house? [482]

PHIDIPPIDES. Yes, father. But what are you driving at?

STREPSIADES. That is the school of wisdom. There, they prove that we are
coals enclosed on all sides under a vast extinguisher, which is the
sky. [483] If well paid,[484] these men also teach one how to gain
law-suits, whether they be just or not.

PHIDIPPIDES. What do they call themselves?

STREPSIADES. I do not know exactly, but they are deep thinkers and most
admirable people.

PHIDIPPIDES. Bah! the wretches! I know them; you mean those quacks with
livid faces,[485] those barefoot fellows, such as that miserable Socrates
and Chaerephon. [486]

STREPSIADES. Silence! say nothing foolish! If you desire your father not
to die of hunger, join their company and let your horses go.

PHIDIPPIDES. No, by Bacchus! even though you gave me the pheasants that
Leogoras rears.

STREPSIADES. Oh! my beloved son, I beseech you, go and follow their
teachings.

PHIDIPPIDES. And what is it I should learn?

STREPSIADES. 'Twould seem they have two courses of reasoning, the true
and the false, and that, thanks to the false, the worst law-suits can be
gained. If then you learn this science, which is false, I shall not pay
an obolus of all the debts I have contracted on your account.

PHIDIPPIDES. No, I will not do it. I should no longer dare to look at our
gallant horsemen, when I had so tarnished my fair hue of honour.

STREPSIADES. Well then, by Demeter! I will no longer support you, neither
you, nor your team, nor your saddle-horse. Go and hang yourself, I turn
you out of house and home.

PHIDIPPIDES. My uncle Megacles will not leave me without horses; I shall
go to him and laugh at your anger.

STREPSIADES. One rebuff shall not dishearten me. With the help of the
gods I will enter this school and learn myself. But at my age, memory has
gone and the mind is slow to grasp things. How can all these fine
distinctions, these subtleties be learned? Bah! why should I dally thus
instead of rapping at the door? Slave, slave! (_He knocks and calls. _)

A DISCIPLE. A plague on you! Who are you?

STREPSIADES. Strepsiades, the son of Phido, of the deme of Cicynna.

DISCIPLE. 'Tis for sure only an ignorant and illiterate fellow who lets
drive at the door with such kicks. You have brought on a miscarriage--of
an idea!

STREPSIADES. Pardon me, pray; for I live far away from here in the
country. But tell me, what was the idea that miscarried?

DISCIPLE. I may not tell it to any but a disciple.

STREPSIADES. Then tell me without fear, for I have come to study among
you.

DISCIPLE. Very well then, but reflect, that these are mysteries. Lately,
a flea bit Chaerephon on the brow and then from there sprang on to the
head of Socrates. Socrates asked Chaerephon, "How many times the length
of its legs does a flea jump? "

STREPSIADES. And how ever did he set about measuring it?

DISCIPLE. Oh! 'twas most ingenious! He melted some wax, seized the flea
and dipped its two feet in the wax, which, when cooled, left them shod
with true Persian buskins. [487] These he slipped off and with them
measured the distance.

STREPSIADES. Ah! great Zeus! what a brain! what subtlety!

DISCIPLE. I wonder what then would you say, if you knew another of
Socrates' contrivances?

STREPSIADES. What is it? Pray tell me.

DISCIPLE. Chaerephon of the deme of Sphettia asked him whether he thought
a gnat buzzed through its proboscis or through its rear.

STREPSIADES. And what did he say about the gnat?

DISCIPLE. He said that the gut of the gnat was narrow, and that, in
passing through this tiny passage, the air is driven with force towards
the breech; then after this slender channel, it encountered the rump,
which was distended like a trumpet, and there it resounded sonorously.

STREPSIADES. So the rear of a gnat is a trumpet. Oh! what a splendid
discovery! Thrice happy Socrates! 'Twould not be difficult to succeed in
a law-suit, knowing so much about the gut of a gnat!

DISCIPLE. Not long ago a lizard caused him the loss of a sublime thought.

STREPSIADES. In what way, an it please you?

DISCIPLE. One night, when he was studying the course of the moon and its
revolutions and was gazing open-mouthed at the heavens, a lizard shitted
upon him from the top of the roof.

STREPSIADES. This lizard, that relieved itself over Socrates, tickles me.

DISCIPLE. Yesternight we had nothing to eat.

STREPSIADES. Well! What did he contrive, to secure you some supper?

DISCIPLE. He spread over the table a light layer of cinders, bending an
iron rod the while; then he took up a pair of compasses and at the same
moment unhooked a piece of the victim which was hanging in the
palaestra. [488]

STREPSIADES. And we still dare to admire Thales! [489] Open, open this
home of knowledge to me quickly! Haste, haste to show me Socrates; I long
to become his disciple. But do, do open the door. (_The disciple admits
Strepsiades. _) Ah! by Heracles! what country are those animals from?

DISCIPLE. Why, what are you astonished at? What do you think they
resemble?

STREPSIADES. The captives of Pylos. [490] But why do they look so fixedly
on the ground?

DISCIPLE. They are seeking for what is below the ground.

STREPSIADES. Ah! 'tis onions they are seeking. Do not give yourselves so
much trouble; I know where there are some, fine and large ones. But what
are those fellows doing, who are bent all double?

DISCIPLE. They are sounding the abysses of Tartarus. [491]

STREPSIADES. And what is their rump looking at in the heavens?

DISCIPLE. It is studying astronomy on its own account. But come in; so
that the master may not find us here.

STREPSIADES. Not yet, not yet; let them not change their position. I want
to tell them my own little matter.

DISCIPLE. But they may not stay too long in the open air and away from
school.

STREPSIADES. In the name of all the gods, what is that? Tell me.
(_Pointing to a celestial globe. _)

DISCIPLE. That is astronomy.

STREPSIADES. And that? (_Pointing to a map. _)

DISCIPLE. Geometry.

STREPSIADES. What is that used for?

DISCIPLE. To measure the land.

STREPSIADES. But that is apportioned by lot. [492]

DISCIPLE. No, no, I mean the entire earth.

STREPSIADES. Ah! what a funny thing! How generally useful indeed is this
invention!

DISCIPLE. There is the whole surface of the earth. Look! Here is Athens.

STREPSIADES. Athens! you are mistaken; I see no courts sitting. [493]

DISCIPLE. Nevertheless it is really and truly the Attic territory.

STREPSIADES. And where are my neighbours of Cicynna?

DISCIPLE. They live here. This is Euboea; you see this island, that is so
long and narrow.

STREPSIADES. I know. 'Tis we and Pericles, who have stretched it by dint
of squeezing it.
[494] And where is Lacedaemon?

DISCIPLE. Lacedaemon? Why, here it is, look.

STREPSIADES. How near it is to us! Think it well over, it must be removed
to a greater distance.

DISCIPLE. But, by Zeus, that is not possible.

STREPSIADES. Then, woe to you! And who is this man suspended up in a
basket?

DISCIPLE. 'Tis _he himself_.

STREPSIADES. Who himself?

DISCIPLE. Socrates.

STREPSIADES. Socrates! Oh! I pray you, call him right loudly for me.

DISCIPLE. Call him yourself; I have no time to waste.

STREPSIADES. Socrates! my little Socrates!

SOCRATES. Mortal, what do you want with me?

STREPSIADES. First, what are you doing up there? Tell me, I beseech you.

SOCRATES. I traverse the air and contemplate the sun.

STREPSIADES. Thus 'tis not on the solid ground, but from the height of
this basket, that you slight the gods, if indeed. . . . [495]

SOCRATES. I have to suspend my brain and mingle the subtle essence of my
mind with this air, which is of the like nature, in order to clearly
penetrate the things of heaven. [496] I should have discovered nothing,
had I remained on the ground to consider from below the things that are
above; for the earth by its force attracts the sap of the mind to itself.
'Tis just the same with the water-cress. [497]

STREPSIADES. What? Does the mind attract the sap of the water-cress? Ah!
my dear little Socrates, come down to me! I have come to ask you for
lessons.

SOCRATES. And for what lessons?

STREPSIADES. I want to learn how to speak. I have borrowed money, and my
merciless creditors do not leave me a moment's peace; all my goods are at
stake.

SOCRATES. And how was it you did not see that you were getting so much
into debt?

STREPSIADES. My ruin has been the madness for horses, a most rapacious
evil; but teach me one of your two methods of reasoning, the one whose
object is not to repay anything, and, may the gods bear witness, that I
am ready to pay any fee you may name.

SOCRATES. By which gods will you swear? To begin with, the gods are not a
coin current with us.

STREPSIADES. But what do you swear by then? By the iron money of
Byzantium? [498]

SOCRATES. Do you really wish to know the truth of celestial matters?

STREPSIADES. Why, truly, if 'tis possible.

SOCRATES. . . . and to converse with the clouds, who are our genii?

STREPSIADES. Without a doubt.

SOCRATES. Then be seated on this sacred couch.

STREPSIADES. I am seated.

SOCRATES. Now take this chaplet.

STREPSIADES. Why a chaplet? Alas! Socrates, would you sacrifice me, like
Athamas? [499]

SOCRATES. No, these are the rites of initiation.

STREPSIADES. And what is it I am to gain?

SOCRATES. You will become a thorough rattle-pate, a hardened old stager,
the fine flour of the talkers. . . . But come, keep quiet.

STREPSIADES. By Zeus! You lie not! Soon I shall be nothing but
wheat-flour, if you powder me in this fashion. [500]

SOCRATES. Silence, old man, give heed to the prayers. . . . Oh! most mighty
king, the boundless air, that keepest the earth suspended in space, thou
bright Aether and ye venerable goddesses, the Clouds, who carry in your
loins the thunder and the lightning, arise, ye sovereign powers and
manifest yourselves in the celestial spheres to the eyes of the sage.

STREPSIADES. Not yet! Wait a bit, till I fold my mantle double, so as not
to get wet. And to think that I did not even bring my travelling cap!
What a misfortune!

SOCRATES. Come, oh! Clouds, whom I adore, come and show yourselves to
this man, whether you be resting on the sacred summits of Olympus,
crowned with hoar-frost, or tarrying in the gardens of Ocean, your
father, forming sacred choruses with the Nymphs; whether you be gathering
the waves of the Nile in golden vases or dwelling in the Maeotic marsh or
on the snowy rocks of Mimas, hearken to my prayer and accept my offering.
May these sacrifices be pleasing to you.

CHORUS. Eternal Clouds, let us appear, let us arise from the roaring
depths of Ocean, our father; let us fly towards the lofty mountains,
spread our damp wings over their forest-laden summits, whence we will
dominate the distant valleys, the harvest fed by the sacred earth, the
murmur of the divine streams and the resounding waves of the sea, which
the unwearying orb lights up with its glittering beams. But let us shake
off the rainy fogs, which hide our immortal beauty and sweep the earth
from afar with our gaze.

SOCRATES. Oh, venerated goddesses, yes, you are answering my call! (_To
Strepsiades. _) Did you hear their voices mingling with the awful growling
of the thunder?

STREPSIADES. Oh! adorable Clouds, I revere you and I too am going to let
off _my_ thunder, so greatly has your own affrighted me. Faith! whether
permitted or not, I must, I must shit!

SOCRATES. No scoffing; do not copy those accursed comic poets. Come,
silence! a numerous host of goddesses approaches with songs.

CHORUS. Virgins, who pour forth the rains, let us move toward Attica, the
rich country of Pallas, the home of the brave; let us visit the dear land
of Cecrops, where the secret rites[501] are celebrated, where the
mysterious sanctuary flies open to the initiate. . . . What victims are
offered there to the deities of heaven! What glorious temples! What
statues! What holy prayers to the rulers of Olympus! At every season
nothing but sacred festivals, garlanded victims, are to be seen. Then
Spring brings round again the joyous feasts of Dionysus, the harmonious
contests of the choruses and the serious melodies of the flute.

STREPSIADES. By Zeus! Tell me, Socrates, I pray you, who are these women,
whose language is so solemn; can they be demigoddesses?

SOCRATES. Not at all. They are the Clouds of heaven, great goddesses for
the lazy; to them we owe all, thoughts, speeches, trickery, roguery,
boasting, lies, sagacity.

STREPSIADES. Ah! that was why, as I listened to them, my mind spread out
its wings; it burns to babble about trifles, to maintain worthless
arguments, to voice its petty reasons, to contradict, to tease some
opponent. But are they not going to show themselves? I should like to see
them, were it possible.

SOCRATES. Well, look this way in the direction of Parnes;[502] I already
see those who are slowly descending.

STREPSIADES. But where, where? Show them to me.

SOCRATES. They are advancing in a throng, following an oblique path
across the dales and thickets.

STREPSIADES. 'Tis strange! I can see nothing.

SOCRATES. There, close to the entrance.

STREPSIADES. Hardly, if at all, can I distinguish them.

SOCRATES. You _must_ see them clearly now, unless your eyes are filled
with gum as thick as pumpkins.

STREPSIADES. Aye, undoubtedly! Oh! the venerable goddesses! Why, they
fill up the entire stage.

SOCRATES. And you did not know, you never suspected, that they were
goddesses?

STREPSIADES. No, indeed; methought the Clouds were only fog, dew and
vapour.

SOCRATES. But what you certainly do not know is that they are the support
of a crowd of quacks, both the diviners, who were sent to Thurium,[503]
the notorious physicians, the well-combed fops, who load their fingers
with rings down to the nails, and the baggarts, who write dithyrambic
verses, all these are idlers whom the Clouds provide a living for,
because they sing them in their verses.

STREPSIADES. 'Tis then for this that they praise "the rapid flight of the
moist clouds, which veil the brightness of day" and "the waving locks of
the hundred-headed Typho" and "the impetuous tempests, which float
through the heavens, like birds of prey with aerial wings, loaded with
mists" and "the rains, the dew, which the clouds outpour. "[504] As a
reward for these fine phrases they bolt well-grown, tasty mullet and
delicate thrushes.

SOCRATES. Yes, thanks to these. And is it not right and meet?

STREPSIADES. Tell me then why, if these really are the Clouds, they so
very much resemble mortals. This is not their usual form.

SOCRATES. What are they like then?

STREPSIADES. I don't know exactly; well, they are like great packs of
wool, but not like women--no, not in the least. . . . And these have noses.

SOCRATES. Answer my questions.

STREPSIADES. Willingly!