University of Virginia Library

Act 1.

Scen. 1.

Strepsiades, Phidippides, Servant.
Streps.
Oh, oh,
Great Jove, how long a night is this, how endlesse!
Will't neer be day? I heard the Cock again,
Yet still my servantssnore; 'tis but of late
They durst do thus: curse o'this war that awes me,
And will not suffer me to beat the Rogues.
My good Son sleeps too, wrapt ore head and ears:
Well, let me try to bear them company;
Alasse, I cannot, so perplext and tortur'd
With charges, bills for Horse-meat, interest:
All for this hopefull Son, who in's curl'd locks,
Aides matches, keeps his Coach, and dreames of Horses,
Whilst I (unhappy!) see th'unwelcome Moon
Bring on the Quarter day, and threaten use-mony.
Boy, snuffe the light, bring my account-book hither,
That I may summe my debts and interest:
Let's see, twelve pound to Pasia; ha! twelve pound
To Pasia, how laid out? to buy Coppatia:
Would I had paid this eye for him.

Phid.
Hold Philo,
You'r out of the way, begin again.

Strep.
I this,
This is the misery that ruines me;
His very sleeps are taken up with Horses.

Phid.
How many courses will the manage hold.

Streps.
Many a weary course thou leads thy Father:
But how much more owe I then this to Pasia?
Three pound t'Amynias for Chariot wheeles.

Phid.
Go sirrah, take that horse and turn him out.

Streps.
I thou hast turned me out of all my means,
Charges at Law will eat me up, my Creditours
Threaten to sue me to an execution.

Phid.
Why do you wake all night, and tosse so Father?

Streps.
I cannot sleep, the Scrivener doth so bite me.

Phid.
Yet let me rest a little longer.

Streps.
Do so.
All these will one day light upon thy head,
Curs'd be the houre when I first saw thy Mother,
I liv'd before most sweetly in the Country,
Well stock't with Sheep and Bees, Olives and Grapes,
Till from the Megaclean house I took
This Neece of Megacles out of the City,
Well fashion'd, highly bred, and richly cloathed;
We married, as I said, and lay together:
I smelling strong of Drugs and greasie Wool;
But she of Unguents, Crocus wanton Kisses,
Of vain expence, dainties, and luxury;
I will not tell the idle life she led,
And yet she spun that I have often told her,
Showing this Coat, you spin a fair thread woman.

Serv.
Sir, all the Oyle ith' Lamp is wasted.

Streps.
Ha?
Why didst thou put in such a Drunken week?
If thou wert neer me I would beat thee.

Ser.
Why Sir?

Streps.
Because the week is thicker then the oyl.
Well, at last my good Wife and I betwixt us got
At last this Son; about his name we differ'd;
Shee'd have it something that belong'd to horses,
Callippides, Xanthippus, or Charippus;
I from his Grandfather) Phidonides.
Long time we wrangled thus, at last agreed
He should be called Phidippides; this Son
She takes, and stroaking kindly, thus instructs him,
“When thou art grown a man, frequent the City,
“Follow the fashion, keep a Coach and Horses,
“Like Megacles thy Uncle. No, said I,
“Go in a homely Coat, and drive thy Goats
“Into Phelleus, as thy father doth.
But my advice prevailed so little on him,
That now he wasts my means in keeping horses,
Which all this night I have been thinking how
To remedy, and now have found the way;
To which could I perswade him, I were happy.
Phidippides, Phidippides,

Phid.
Your will Sir.

Streps.
Kisse me, give me thy hand.

Phid.
Here Sir.

Streps.
Dost love me?

Phid.
By Neptune God of Horses.

Streps.
Do not name
That God, for 'tis from him springs all my sorrow:
But if thou lov'st me truly, heartily,
O son be rul'd.

Phid.
In what should I be rul'd?

Streps.
Change without more delay thy course of life,
And do as I would have thee.

Phid.
What is that?

Streps.
But wilt thou do it?

Phid.
Yes by Bacchus will I.

Streps.
Come hither then, seest thou that little dore?
That is the Phrontistherium of wise soules,
Of learned men, that tell us Heaven's an Oven,
And we the Coles inclosed in the wide arch,
They, if we give 'em but a little mony,
Will teach us gain all causes, right or wrong.

Phid.
Who can these be?

Streps.
Their names I know not good
They are, and busied in continuall study.

Phid.
Oh now I know the wretches that you mean,
The meager, wan, proud, bare-foot, begging fellowes,
Whose evill Geniuss's are Socrates
And Chærephen.

Streps.
Peace, talk no more so idly;
If you'l obey a father, let me see you
Give ore your horses, and turn one of these.

Phid.
Not I, by Bacchus, no though you should tempt me
With all Leogoras his breed of Racers.

Streps.
Dear son be rul'd and learn.

Phid.
What should I learn?

Streps.
'Tis said they have two tongues, and one of them
Able to prove any injustice reason;
Couldst thou but learn that language, we were made,
And might dispute our stubborn Creditours
Out of the debts I have incurr'd for thee;
They get not then a penny more then words.

Phid.
I cannot do't, were I so lean and Pale,
I durst not look a Jocky in the face.

Streps.
By Ceres then you stay with me no longer,
You, nor your Coach-horse, nor your Samphoras,
But all together pack out of my dores.
My Uncle Megacles will neither see
Me nor my horses want, so long I care not.

Exit.

Scene 2.

Strepsiades, Scholar.
Streps.
Though I have fail'd, i'l not give over thus,
But say my prayers, and go my self to school
To learn this Art: but how can I, by Age
Dull and forget full, reach such subtleties?
Yet on I will, why should I doubt? ho, friend.

Schol.
A mischief on you, who's that knocks at dore?

Streps.
Strepsiades, Cecinnian Phædo's Son.

Schol.
'Twas rudely done to knock so hard, y'have made
My labouring brain miscarry of a Notion.

Streps.
Forgive me, I was bred far off ith' Country:
But pray what notion was't that prov'd abortive?

Schol.
'Tis lawfull to discover that tonone
But fellow-scholars.

Streps.
Then you may tell me,
For I come hither to be one of you.

Schol.
I will; so will value't as a mysterie.
Socrates t'other day ask'd Chærephon
How many of her feet a flea could leap,
For one by chance had bit Chærephons eyebrow,
And leap'd from thence upon the head of Socrates.

Streps.
How could he measure this?

Schol.
Most dexterously.
Both feet oth' flea he dipt in melting wax,
Which strait congeals to shooes; these he plucks off,
And with them most exactly measures it.

Streps.
Great Jupiter, how subtle are these wits!

Schol.
If you shouldst hear their other speculations,
You would say so indeed.

Streps.
Pray what was that?

Schol.
This Charæphon the Sphettian ask'd him once,
If a Gnat sounded from her mouth or tail.

Streps.
And what said he?
It had a strait thin gut,
At end of it a bladder, into which
The air being forc'd, sounded in breaking forth.

Streps.
Then I perceive that a gnat's tail's a Trumpet;
How blest is this Anatomist of Gnats!
Sure he can hide himself from purblind justice,
That knows so well these dark intestine waies.
Why should we cry up Thales any longer?
Come open me your Phrontisterium,
And quickly let me see this Socrates,
I long to learn, open the dore,—O Hercules
What strange beasts have we here!

Schol.
Why do you wonder?
Whom do they look like think you?

Streps.
Like the poor
Lacedæmonian Captives tane at Pylus.
Why look they so intently on the ground?
These seek out things that appertain to Earth!
Oh they seek leeks; trouble your selves no more friends,
For I know better where are good and great ones.

Schol.
Come let's go in.

Streps.
Let's stay a while and talk with 'em.

Schol.
No, no, they cannot long endure the air.

Streps.
What's this, for Heavens sake say?

Schol.
This is Astronomy.

Streps.
And this?

Schol.
Geometry.

Strop.
But what is't good for?

Schol.
To measure land:

Streps.
What, arable or pasture?

Schol.
No, the whole Earth.

Streps.
A pretty jest indeed.
That were a mighty help to husbandmen.

Schol.
Here's all the world, and this is Athens.

Streps.
How?
I'l scarce believe that, what's become oth' Judges?
Where the Cicynians my Countymen?

Schol.
Here; this Eubæa; see how far 'tis stretch'd.

Streps.
I, almost stretch'd in pieces betwixt us,
And Pericles; and where is Lacedæmon?

Schol.
Here.

Strepss.
'Tis too nigh us, why, with all your skill
Do you not help to thrust it farther off.

Schol.
It is not possible.

Streps.
No? you will rue't then.
But what man's that hangs yonder in the basket?

Schol.
That's he.

Streps.
He, what he?

Schol.
Socrates.

Streps.
How, Socrates?
Call him.

Schol.
Call him your self, I'm not at leasure.

Scene 3.

Strepsiades, Socrates.
Streps.
Ho Socrates

Socr.
Why dost thou call me mortall?

Streps.
First I would gladly know what thou dost there?

Socr.
I walk ith' aire, and gaze upon the Sun.

Streps.
Why in a basket dost thou view the Gods,
Not from the ground?

Socr.
I could not elevate
My thoughts to contemplation of these mysteries,
Unlesse my Intellect were thus suspended,
Where my thin thoughts melt into air (their likeness)
Stood I upon the ground, I should find nothing,
Though I sought nere so strictly up and down,
For the magnetick vertue of the Earth
Would draw away the humour of my brain,
Just as we see in nose-smart.

Streps.
How, hows that?
Doth the brain draw the humour out of nose-smart?
Come down, sweet Socrates, and teach me quickly
The knowledge of those things for which I came.

Socr.
What camest thou for?

Streps.
To learn the art of speaking,
With debts and usury I'm torn in pieces
Tost up and down; forc'd to pawn all my goods:

Socr.
On what occasion did you run in debt?

Streps.
By horses eaten into this consumption;
And I would learn of you your other language
Which teacheth men to pay nothing: for which
By all the Gods i'l give you what you'l ask.

Socr.
By all what Gods? we do not here allow
Those Gods the City worships.

Streps.
How then swear you,
By copper farthings like the Byzantines?

Socr.
Wouldst thou be skilfull in divine affairs.

Streps.
By Jove (if any such there be) I would.

Socr.
You must be then acquainted with the Clouds,
Our reverend Goddesses.

Streps.
With all my heart.

Socr.
Sit down upon this Couch then

Streps.
Well.

Socr.
Now take
This Garland.

Streps.
Why a garland? alasse Socrates,
D'ee mean (like Athamas) to sacrifice me?

Socr.
No, these are rites that every one performes
At his admission.

Streps.
But what shall I gain by?

Socr.
Thou shallt be made most voluble in speech,
A very rattle, bolting words as fine
As flower.

Streps.
Th'art right by Jove, I shall be powderd.

Socr.
silence old man, and listen to our prayer.
“Great King, unbounded air, whose armes are hurld
“About the surface of this pendant world,
“Bright Æther, reverend Clouds, that from your Spheas
“Thunder and lightning dart, rise and appear.

Streps.
Not yet, not yet, till I have wrapt my selfe
Close in my Cloak, lest I be wet: twas ill
That I forgat to bring my Riding hood.

Socr.
“Your power, great Clouds, make to this suppliant known
“Whether now seated on Olympus Throne,
“Or whether you your sacred revells keep
“In the wide Gardens of your Sire the deep:
“Or of his flowing Christall seaven-mouth'd Nile,
“In golden Ewers wantonly beguile:
“Or in Mauritian marshes keep your Court;
“Or on the snowy top of Mimas sport.
“Come, to our servant vowes propitious be;
“Grace with your presence our solemnitie.
“We humid fleeting Deities,
“The bright unbounded clouds thus rise
“From our old Sire, the grumbling Flood,
“Above the tallest hill or wood,
“To those high watch-towers, whence we may
“The hallowed fruitfull-ground survey;
“Rivers that in soft murmurs glide,
“And the lowd sea's rebellious tide;
“From thence heavens restlesse eye displaies
“The splendour of his glorious raies,
“Chasing all dusky mists, that we
“In shapes divine may mortalls see.

Socr.
Thanks reverend Clouds for favouring thus our prayer.
Did you not hear'm speak in Thunder to us?

Streps.
Great Clouds, I worship too, but am so frighted,
I scarce can hold from answering your Thunder.

Socr.
Jest not profanely in such sacred rites:
Peace, for the swarm of Goddesses come singing.

Chor.
“Come virgin Mistresses of showers,
“Let's visit Pallas pregnant bowers,
“The far renowned Cecroplan plain
“Where shines the Eleusinian Fane,
“Where are the most retir'd aboads,
“Statues and Temples of the Gods:
“Where Altars blaze with Incense, where
“The holy-day lasts all the year;
“Where the brisk Craces every spring,
“And youths with virgins dance and sing.

Streps.
Tell me good Socrates, what things are these
That speak so finely? are they Ladies?

Socr.
No,
They're Clouds, the Deities of idle men;
From these we have our sense, discourse, and reason,
Our high Capriccio's, and elaborate whimseys.

Streps.
My soul, me thought, did leap, while they were speaking,
And now most subtly would dispute of smoak,
Sharply confute opinion with opinion:
Oh how I long to see them once again.

Socr.
Look yonder towards Parnes, look how gently
They glide to earth.

Streps.
Where? show me.

Socr.
See in sholes
They creep into the Caverns of the Mountain.

Streps.
What things are these? I cannot yet behold 'em.

Socr.
There in the entrance look.

Streps.
Yet I scarce see them.

Socr.
Either thou seest them now, or thou art blind.

Streps.
I do by Jove, great Clouds, for you hold all!

Socr.
Didst thou not know these Deities before?

Streps.
Not I, I thought them only mists and vapours:

Socr.
Thou knewest not then those who maintain the Sophists.

Streps.
If these be Clouds, how comes it that they look
Like women? for the Clouds have no such shape.

Socr.
No, what shape have they then?

Streps.
I know not justly;
They look like flying fleeces, but by Jove,
Nothing at all like women; these have noses.

Socr.
Answer to what I ask.

Streps.
Ask me quickly.

Socr.
Didst ere behold a Cloud shap'd like a Centaure,
A Leopard, Bull, or Wolfe?

Streps.
I have, what then?

Socr.
The Clouds can take what form they list, as when
They see a hairy fellow curl'd like Clitus,
They mock his madnesse in a Centaures shape.

Streps.
And when they see one that defrauds or plunders
The Common-wealth, like Sinon, what then do they?

Socr.
They do resemble him, turn ravenous wolves,
This was the reason yesterday, when they
Beheld Cleonymus, they fled like deer:
And seeing Clisthenes are now turn'd women.

Streps.
Great Queens, if you ere design to speak to mortalls,
Make me acquainted with your rumbling voice.

Chor.
“All hail old man, who dost on wisdome prey,
“And thou the Priest of subtle trifles say,
“What wouldst thou have with us, to none but thee,
“Of all the Meteor Sophists thus stoop we;
“Save Prodicus, to him as grave and wise,
“To thee, because thou walkst upright, thy eyes
“Rowling on every side, thy look severe
“And barefoot many miseries dost bear.

Streps.
Good heavens, what voice is this, how strange & stately.

Socr.
These are our Goddesses, the rest are toyes.

Streps.
Is then Olympian Jove no Deity?

Socr.
What Jove? there's no such thing; meer fancy.

Streps.
How?
Whence then proceeds all rain?

Socr.
Only from these.
Didst thou ere see a shower without them? take
The Clouds away, and heaven must rain fair weather.

Streps.
By Phœbus thou hast cleer'd it well, till now
I thought Jove made water through a sive.
But whence comes thunder? when I'me sick, that frights me,
These thunder as they tumble up and down.
How can that be?

Socr.
When they are full of water,
By their own weight, driven upon one another,
They roar and break.

Streps.
But who is it that drives them,
Is not that Jove?

Socr.
No, an ætheriall whirlewind.

Streps.
A whirle-wind, hum! I knew not that til now.
But whence comes lightning then, that glittering fire
Which terrifies and burns us? Jupiter
Useth to dart this down on perjur'd men.

Socr.
And how (thou phlegmatick, dull Saturnine,)
If darted on the perjur'd, how comes Sinon,
Theorus, and Cleonymus to 'scape it?
No, his own Temple, or the Sunian Promontory,
Or sturdy Oakes he strikes, did they ere wrong him?
Did the Oak ere forswear it selfe?

Streps.
I know not:
That which you say seems reasons; but what then
Is lightning?

Socr.
When the winds are shut up close,
They swell the clouds like bladders, and at last
Break out with violence and horrid noises;
And by contrition kindle one another.
But thou who searchest amongst us for wisdom,
How happy wilt thou be above all Græcians
If thou conceive well, and remember, and
Canst suffer much, and never wilt be tir'd
Standing or walking, nor have sense of frost,
Nor care for dyning, and refrain from wine,
From exercises, and all other toyes.

Streps.
O for a solid soul restlesse with cares,
Sparing, self-torturing, one that can feast
Upon a dish of herbes, you never could
Be better fitted; a meer an vile I.

Socr.
Dost thou believe no Gods but those we teach,
The Chaos, Clouds and Tongue, onely these three.

Streps.
I'l not so much as speak of any other,
Much lesse bestow an offering on their Altars.

Chor.
“Say boldy then, say what is thy request,
“For if thou honour us thou shalt be blest.

Streps.
Great Queens I sue for a small matter, that
I may out-talk all Greeks a hundred furlongs.

Chor.
“To thee alone this gift we will allow,
“None speak such mighty sentences as Thou.

Streps.
I do not care for mighty sentences,
But subtle ones to cheat my Creditours.

Chor.
“It is not much thou askst, and shalt obtain it,
“Learn of our Ministers and thou shalt gain it.

Streps.
I shall, relying on your promise; forc'd
By want, Coppatia and a lucklesse match.
Now let'em use me as they list, beat, starve me,
Burn, freeze, or flea me, so I scape my debts:
I care not though men call me impudent,
Smooth-tongu'd, audacious, petulant, abhominable,
Forger of words and lie, contentious Barretour,
Old, winding, bragging, testy, crafty fox.

Socr.
Said like a man of courage: if thou learn
Of me, thy fame shall spread wide as the Heavens.

Streps.
What shall I do?

Socr.
Thou shalt spend all thy time
With me; a life the happiest in the world.

Streps.
I long to see that day.

Socr.
Thy dore shall alwaies
Be throng'd with Clients that will come to thee
For Counsell, and discourse of cases worth
The wealth of kingdoms, to thy hearts desire.

Chor.
“Try this old man; first see if he be fit;
“Put him toth' test, and sound the depth of's wit.

Socr.
Come tell me now your disposition,
That when I know it I may fit my Machines
Accordingly.

Streps.
You will not undermine me.

Socr.
No, I would know if you have any memory.

Streps.
Yes, when another owes me any thing,
I can remember very well, but what
I owe my self, i'm ready to forget.

Socr.
Hast thou a naturall faculty in speaking

Streps.
No, I can mar words sooner far then make 'em.

Socr.
How wilt thou learn then?

Streps.
Fear me not, I tell you
Wel, when I make some learned deep discourse.

Socr.
You must be sure to catch't up presently.

Streps.
What must I snap at learning like a dog?

Socr.
This is a very fool, an unknown Clown;
I am afraid old man thou wilt need whipping.
What if thou shouldst be beaten?

Streps.
Then i'm beaten.

Socr.
But what wouldst do?

Streps.
I would take witnesse on't
And sue them on an action of Battery.

Socr.
Off with your Cloak.

Streps.
Why, how have I offended?

Socr.
No; but our orders admit none but naked.

Streps.
I came not hither to steal any thing.

Socr.
Down with your Cloak, why dost thou trifle.

Streps.
Now
Tell me if I prove apt and diligent,
Of all your schollars who shall I come nighest?

Socr.
Thou maist perhaps be like our Chærephon.

Streps.
Alasse, alasse! what an Anatomy?

Socr.
No, no: but if thou wilt be any thing,
Follow me without more delay.

Streps.
I want
A Cake for your Cerberus; I go me thinks
As if'twere into the Trophonian Cave.

Socr.
On, on, why stayst thou gazing at the dore.

Chor.
“Go, for thy courage blest whose aged mind
“To wisdom soars, and leaves the young behind.

Exeunt.