University of Virginia Library

Act. 3.

Strepsiades, Phidippides, Socrates.
Str.
Now by the Clouds thou staist no longer here?
Hence, and go feed in Megacles his stable.

Ph.
Alasse what fury hath possest you Father?
By Jove I think you are besides your self.

Str.
See, see, he swears by Iove, art thou not mad
At these years to believe there is a Jove?

Ph.
Is truth to be derided?

Str.
Well I see
Th'art still a Child and credit'st old wives tales.
But come I will tell thee that shall make thee
A man, so you be sure to tell it nobody.

Ph.
Pretty; what is't?

Str.
Thou swor'st e'en now by Jove.

Ph.
I did so.

Str.
See how good it is to learn;
There's no such thing as Iove.

Ph.
What then?

Str.
A whirlwind
Hath blown Iove quite away and rules all Heaven.

Ph:
What fooleries are these?

Str.
They're serious truth son.

Ph.
Who tells you so?

Str.
Our Socrates the Melian,
And Chærephon, that trace the steps of fleas.

Ph.
How, are you grown to such a height of madness,
As to believe such melancholy dreamers.

Str.
Good words: defame not men of such deep wisdom
And subtle spirits; these live sparingly,
Are never at the charges of of a Barber,
Unguents, or Baths, whereas thou wasts my means
As freely as if I were dead already.
Come then, and be their scholler in my room.

Ph.
What can be learnt that's good of such as they are?

Str.
All things that are accompted wisdom Boy;
And first to know thy self, and what a dunce
Thou art, how blockish, rustick and forgetfull.
But stay a little, cover thy face a while.

Ph:
Alasse my fathers mad, what shall I do,
Accuse him to the Court of folly,
Bespeak a Coffin for him, for he talks
Idly, as he were drawing on?

Str.
Come on now.
Let's see, what that?

Ph.
A Pigeon.

Str.
Good; and that?

Ph.
A Pigeon.

Str.
Both the same? ridiculous.
Take heed you make not such mistakes hereafter.
This you must call a Cock, and that a Hen.

Ph.
A Hen? Is this the goodly learning Father
You got since your admission 'mongst these earth-wormes?

Str.
This and a great deal more; but being old,
I soon forget what I am taught.

Ph.
I think
'Twas want of memory made you lose your cloak.

Str.
No, 'tis hung up upon the arts and sciences:

Ph.
And where your shooes?

Str.
Lost for the common good,
Like Pericles: But lets be gone and see
You learn t'obey me, and to wrong all else.
Remember that I bought thee, when thou wert
But fix yeers old, a little Cart to play with.

Ph.
Alasse you'l be the first that will repent this.

Str.
Take you no care for that; do as I bid you.
Ho, Socrates, I've brought my son at last,
Though much against his will.

So.
I, that's because
He's rude, untaught, a child of ignorance,
And unacquainted with our hungry baskets.

Ph.
Go hang your self in one of them.

Str.
How impudence; dost thou talk thus to thy Master?

Socr.
So go hang, with what a seeming grace was that pronounc'd!
How do you think that he should ever learn
To overthrow a nimble adversary,
Or win a Judges heart with Rhetorick?

Str.
Fear not, but teach him; he's ingenious
By Nature; for when he was but a little one,
Hee'd build you houses, and make leather Coaches,
And ships, and cut frogs out of apple parings.
What's your opinion then? do you not think
Hee's capable to learn both languages?
Or if not both, be sure he learn the worse.

Socr.
Well, we shall try what may be done with him.

Str.
Farewell, and so remember that in all
I say that's just, you learn to contradict me.