Clouds
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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By what gods will you swear? For, in the first place, gods are not a current coin with us.
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Socrates.
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Do you wish to know clearly celestial matters, what they rightly are?
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Socrates.
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And to hold converse with the Clouds, our divinities?
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Socrates.
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Seat yourself, then, upon the sacred couch.
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Strepsiades.
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Well, I am seated!
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Socrates.
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No; we do all these to those who get initiated.
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Socrates.
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You shall become in oratory a tricky knave, a thorough rattle, a subtle speaker. But keep quiet.
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Socrates.
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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!
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Strepsiades.
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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!
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Socrates.
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Come then, ye highly honoured Clouds, for a display to this man.
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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.
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Chorus.
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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,
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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;
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for the unwearied eye of Aether sparkles with glittering rays. Come, let us shake off the watery cloud from our immortal forms and survey
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the earth with far-seeing eye.
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Socrates.
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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?
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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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.
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Chorus.
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Ye rain-bringing virgins,
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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;
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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,
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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Tell me, O Socrates, I beseech you, by Jupiter, who are these that have uttered this grand song? Are they some heroines?
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Socrates.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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Look, then, hither, toward Mount Parnes; for now I behold them descending gently.
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Socrates.
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Now at length you assuredly see them, unless you have your eyes running pumpkins.
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Strepsiades.
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Yes, by Jupiter! O highly honoured Clouds, for now they cover all things.
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Socrates.
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Did you not, however, know, nor yet consider, these to be goddesses?
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Strepsiades.
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No, by Jupiter! But I thought them to be mist, and dew, and smoke.
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Socrates.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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Is it not just, however, that they should have their reward, on account of these?
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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Answer, then, whatever I ask you.
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Socrates.
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Have you ever, when you; looked up, seen a cloud like to a centaur, or a panther, or a wolf, or a bull?
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Socrates.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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Why, what, if they should see Simon, a plunderer of the public property, what do they do?
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Socrates.
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They suddenly become wolves, showing up his disposition.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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And now too, because they saw Clisthenes, you observe, on this account they became women.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Chorus.
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Hail, O ancient veteran, hunter after learned speeches! And thou, O priest of most subtle trifles! Tell us what you require?
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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O Earth, what a voice! How holy and dignified and wondrous!
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Socrates.
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For, in fact, these alone are goddesses; and all the rest is nonsense.
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Strepsiades.
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But come, by the Earth, is not Jupiter, the Olympian, a god?
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Socrates.
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What Jupiter? Do not trifle. There is no Jupiter.
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Socrates.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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These, as they roll, thunder.
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Socrates.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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Who is it that compels them to borne along? Is it not Jupiter?
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Socrates.
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By no means, but aethereal Vortex.
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Socrates.
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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?
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Strepsiades.
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Come, how am I to believe this?
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Strepsiades.
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Yes, by Apollo! And immediately the little broth plays the mischief with me, and is disturbed and rumbles like thunder, and grumbles dreadfully:
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at first gently pappax, pappax; and then it adds papa-pappax; and finally, it thunders downright papapappax, as they do.
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Socrates.
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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?
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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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,
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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I do not know; but you seem to speak well. For what, pray, is the thunderbolt?
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Socrates.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Chorus.
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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
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Socrates.
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Will you not, pray, now believe in no god, except what we believe in--this Chaos, and the Clouds, and the Tongue--these three?
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Chorus.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Chorus.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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Chorus.
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Then you shall obtain what you desire; for you do not covet great things. But commit yourself without fear to our ministers.
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Strepsiades.
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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.
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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,
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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,
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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,
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by Ceres, let them serve up a sausage out of me to the deep thinkers.
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Chorus.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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What shall I experience?
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Chorus.
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You shall pass with me the most enviable of mortal lives the whole time.
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Strepsiades.
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Shall I then ever see this?
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Chorus.
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But attempt to teach the old man by degrees whatever you purpose, and scrutinize his intellect, and make trial of his mind.
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Socrates.
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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.
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Strepsiades.
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What? By the gods, do you purpose to besiege me?
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Socrates.
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No; I wish to briefly learn from you if you are possessed of a good memory.
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Socrates.
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Is the power of speaking, pray, implanted in your nature?
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Strepsiades.
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Speaking is not in me, but cheating is.
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Socrates.
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How, then, will you be able to learn?
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Socrates.
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Come, then, take care that, whenever I propound any clever dogma about abstruse matters, you catch it up immediately.
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Strepsiades.
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What then? Am I to feed upon wisdom like a dog?
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Socrates.
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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?
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Socrates.
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Come, then, lay down your cloak.
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Socrates.
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No; but it is the rule to enter naked.
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Strepsiades.
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But I do not enter to search for stolen goods.
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Socrates.
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Lay it down. Why do you talk nonsense?
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If I be diligent and learn zealously, to which of your disciples shall I become like?