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The Clouds [5]

By Root 194 0
the joyous feasts of Dionysus, the

harmonious contests of the choruses and the serious melodies of the

flute.

STREPSIADES

By Zeus! Tell me, Socrates, I pray you, who are these women, whose

language is so solemn; can they be demi-goddesses?

SOCRATES

Not at all. They are the Clouds of heaven, great goddesses for the

lazy; to them we owe all, thoughts, speeches, trickery, roguery,

boasting, lies, sagacity.

STREPSIADES

Ah! that was why, as I listened to them, my mind spread out its

wings; it burns to babble about trifles, to maintain worthless

arguments, to voice its petty reasons, to contradict, to tease some

opponent. But are they not going to show themselves? I should like

to see them, were it possible.

SOCRATES

Well, look this way in the direction of Parnes; I already see

those who are slowly descending.

STREPSIADES

But where, where? Show them to me.

SOCRATES

They are advancing in a throng, following an oblique path across

the dales and thickets.

STREPSIADES

Strange! I can see nothing.

SOCRATES

There, close to the entrance.

STREPSIADES

Hardly, if at all, can I distinguish them.

SOCRATES

You must see them clearly now, unless your eyes are filled with

gum as thick as pumpkins.

STREPSIADES

Aye, undoubtedly! Oh! the venerable goddesses! Why, they fill up

the entire stage.

SOCRATES

And you did not know, you never suspected, that they were

goddesses?

STREPSIADES

No, indeed; I thought the Clouds were only fog, dew and vapour.

SOCRATES

But what you certainly do not know is that they are the support of

a crowd of quacks, the diviners, who were sent to Thurium, the

notorious physicians, the well-combed fops, who load their fingers

with rings down to the nails, and the braggarts, who write dithyrambic

verses, all these are idlers whom the Clouds provide a living for,

because they sing them in their verses.

STREPSIADES

It is then for this that they praise "the rapid flight of the

moist clouds, which veil the brightness of day" and "the waving

locks of the hundred-headed Typho" and "the impetuous tempests,

which float through the heavens, like birds of prey with aerial

wings loaded with mists" and "the rains, the dew, which the clouds

outpour." As a reward for these fine phrases they bolt well-grown,

tasty mullet and delicate thrushes.

SOCRATES

Yes, thanks to these. And is it not right and meet?

STREPSIADES

Tell me then why, if these really are the Clouds, they so very

much resemble mortals. This is not their usual form.

SOCRATES

What are they like then?

STREPSIADES

I don't know exactly; well, they are like great packs of wool, but

not like women-no, not in the least....And these have noses.

SOCRATES

Answer my questions.

STREPSIADES

Willingly! Go on, I am listening.

SOCRATES

Have you not sometimes seen clouds in the sky like a centaur, a

leopard, a wolf or a bull?

STREPSIADES

Why, certainly I have, but what of that?

SOCRATES

They take what metamorphosis they like. If they see a debauchee

with long flowing locks and hairy as a beast, like the son of

Xenophantes, they take the form of a Centaur in derision of his

shameful passion.

STREPSIADES

And when they see Simon, that thiever of public money, what do

they do then?

SOCRATES

To picture him to the life, they turn at once into wolves.

STREPSIADES

So that was why yesterday, when they saw Cleonymus, who cast

away his buckler because he is the veriest poltroon amongst men,

they changed into deer.

SOCRATES

And to-day they have seen Clisthenes; you see....they are women

STREPSIADES

Hail, sovereign goddesses, and if ever you have let your celestial

voice be heard by mortal ears, speak to me, oh! speak to me, ye

all-powerful queens.

CHORUS-LEADER
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