Parodos
[Parodos]
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.
335
Socrates.
Is it not just, however, that they should have their reward, on account of these?
340
Strepsiades.
Tell me, pray, if they are really clouds, what ails them, that they resemble mortal women? For they are not such.
340
Socrates.
Pray, of what nature are they?
Strepsiades.
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.
Socrates.
Answer, then, whatever I ask you.
345
Strepsiades.
Then say quickly what you wish.
345
Socrates.
Have you ever, when you; looked up, seen a cloud like to a centaur, or a panther, or a wolf, or a bull?
Strepsiades.
By Jupiter, have I! But what of that?
Socrates.
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.
Strepsiades.
Why, what, if they should see Simon, a plunderer of the public property, what do they do?
Socrates.
They suddenly become wolves, showing up his disposition.
Strepsiades.
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.
Socrates.
And now too, because they saw Clisthenes, you observe, on this account they became women.
355
[Choral]
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.
Chorus.
Hail, O ancient veteran, hunter after learned speeches! And thou, O priest of most subtle trifles! Tell us what you require?
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.
360
Strepsiades.
O Earth, what a voice! How holy and dignified and wondrous!
Socrates.
For, in fact, these alone are goddesses; and all the rest is nonsense.
365
Strepsiades.
But come, by the Earth, is not Jupiter, the Olympian, a god?
Socrates.
What Jupiter? Do not trifle. There is no Jupiter.
Strepsiades.
What do you say? Who rains then? For first of all explain this to me.
Socrates.
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.
Strepsiades.
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.
Socrates.
These, as they roll, thunder.
375
Strepsiades.
In what way? you all-daring man!
375
Socrates.
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.
Strepsiades.
Who is it that compels them to borne along? Is it not Jupiter?
Socrates.
By no means, but aethereal Vortex.
380
Strepsiades.
Vortex? It had escaped my notice that Jupiter did not exist, and that Vortex now reigned in his stead. But you have taught me nothing as yet concerning the clap and the thunder.
380
