CHORUS
Go: but in us the thought is strong, you will repent of this ere long. Now we wish to tell the Judges all the blessings they shall gain If, as Justice plainly warrants, we the worthy prize obtain. First, whenever in the Season ye would fain your fields renew, All the world shall wait expectant till we’ve poured our rain on you: Then of all your crops and vineyards we will take the utmost care So that neither drought oppress them, nor the heavy rain impair. But if anyone amongst you dare to treat our claims with scorn,
CHORUS Mortal he, the Clouds immortal, better had he ne’er been born! He from his estates shall gather neither corn, nor oil, nor wine, For whenever blossoms sparkle on the olive or the vine They shall all at once be blighted: we will ply our slings so true. And if ever we behold him building up his mansions new, With our tight and nipping hailstones we will all his tiles destroy. But if he, his friends or kinsfolk, would a marriage-feast enjoy, All night long we’ll pour in torrents: so perchance he’ll rather pray To endure the drought of Egypt, than decide amiss to-day!
STREPSIADES But hére’s the door: I’ll knock and soon find out, Boy! Ho there, boy!
SOCRATES I clasp Strepsiades.
STREPSIADES And I clasp you: but take this meal-bag first. ’Tis meet and right to glorify one’s Tutors. But tell me, tell me, has my son yet learnt That Second Logic which he saw just now?
SOCRATES He hath.
STREPSIADES Hurrah! great Sovereign Knavery!
SOCRATES You may escape whatever suit you please.
STREPSIADES What, if I borrowed before witnesses?
SOCRATES Before a thousand, and the more the merrier.
STREPSIADES “Then shall my song be loud and deep.” Weep, obol-weighers, weep, weep, weep, Ye, and your principals, and compound interests, For ye shall never pester me again. Such a son have I bred, (He is within this door), Born to inspire my foemen with dread, Born his old father’s house to restore: Keen and polished of tongue is he, He my Champion and Guard shall be, He will set his old father free, Run you, and call him forth to me. “O my child! O my sweet! come out, I entreat; ’Tis the voice of your sire.
SOCRATES Here’s the man you require.
STREPSIADES Joy, joy of my heart!
SOCRATES Take your son and depart.
STREPSIADES O come, O come, my son, my son, O dear! O dear! O joy, to see your beautiful complexion!
STREPSIADES Aye now you have an aspect Negative And Disputative, and our native query Shines forth there “What d’ye say?” You’ve the true face Which rogues put on, of injured innocence. You have the regular Attic look about you. So now, you save me, for ’twas you undid me.
PHEIDIPPIDES What is it ails you?
STREPSIADES Why the Old-and-New day.
PHEIDIPPIDES And is there such a day as Old-and-New?
STREPSIADES Yes: that’s the day they mean to stake their gages.
PHEIDIPPIDES They’ll lose them if they stake them. What! do you think That one day can be two days, both together?
STREPSIADES Why, can’t it be so?
PHEIDIPPIDES Surely not; or else A woman might at once be old and young.
STREPSIADES Still, the law says so.
PHEIDIPPIDES True: but I believe They don’t quite understand it.
STREPSIADES You explain it.
PHEIDIPPIDES Old Solon had a democratic turn.
STREPSIADES Well, but that’s nothing to the Old-and-New.
PHEIDIPPIDES Hence then he fixed that summonses be issued For these two days, the old one and the new one, So that the gage be staked on the New-month.
STREPSIADES What made him add “the old” then?
PHEIDIPPIDES I will tell you. He wished the litigants to meet on that day And compromise their quarrels: if they could not, Then let them fight it out on the New-month.
STREPSIADES Why then do Magistrates receive the stakes On the Old-and-New instead of the New-month?
PHEIDIPPIDES Well, I believe they act like the Foretasters. They wish to bag the gage as soon as possible, And thus they gain a whole day’s foretaste of it.
STREPSIADES Aha! poor dupes, why sit ye mooning there, Game for us Artful Dodgers, you dull stones, You ciphers, lambkins, butts piled up together! Oh! my success inspires me, and I’ll sing Glad eulogies on me and thee, my son. “Man, most blessed, most divine, What a wondrous wit is thine, What a son to grace thy line,” Friends and neighbours day by day Thus will say, When with envious eyes my suits they see you win: But first I’ll feast you, so come in, my son, come in.
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