No More Learning

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 then?

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,[505] they take the form of a Centaur[506] 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,[507] 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;[508] you see . . .