At first, 'tis but a little gurgling _pappax,
pappax_!
Aristophanes
ah!
I did not know that.
So Zeus, it seems,
has no existence, and 'tis the Whirlwind that reigns in his stead? But
you have not yet told me what makes the roll of the thunder?
SOCRATES. Have you not understood me then? I tell you, that the Clouds,
when full of rain, bump against one another, and that, being inordinately
swollen out, they burst with a great noise.
STREPSIADES. How can you make me credit that?
SOCRATES. Take yourself as an example. When you have heartily gorged on
stew at the Panathenaea, you get throes of stomach-ache and then suddenly
your belly resounds with prolonged growling.
STREPSIADES. Yes, yes, by Apollo! I suffer, I get colic, then the stew
sets a-growling like thunder and finally bursts forth with a terrific
noise.
At first, 'tis but a little gurgling _pappax, pappax_! then it
increases, _papapappax! _ and when I seek relief, why, 'tis thunder
indeed, _papapappax! pappax! ! papapappax! ! ! _ just like the clouds.
SOCRATES. Well then, reflect what a noise is produced by your belly,
which is but small. Shall not the air, which is boundless, produce these
mighty claps of thunder?
STREPSIADES. But tell me this. Whence comes the lightning, the dazzling
flame, which at times consumes the man it strikes, at others hardly
singes him. Is it not plain, that 'tis Zeus hurling it at the perjurers?
has no existence, and 'tis the Whirlwind that reigns in his stead? But
you have not yet told me what makes the roll of the thunder?
SOCRATES. Have you not understood me then? I tell you, that the Clouds,
when full of rain, bump against one another, and that, being inordinately
swollen out, they burst with a great noise.
STREPSIADES. How can you make me credit that?
SOCRATES. Take yourself as an example. When you have heartily gorged on
stew at the Panathenaea, you get throes of stomach-ache and then suddenly
your belly resounds with prolonged growling.
STREPSIADES. Yes, yes, by Apollo! I suffer, I get colic, then the stew
sets a-growling like thunder and finally bursts forth with a terrific
noise.
At first, 'tis but a little gurgling _pappax, pappax_! then it
increases, _papapappax! _ and when I seek relief, why, 'tis thunder
indeed, _papapappax! pappax! ! papapappax! ! ! _ just like the clouds.
SOCRATES. Well then, reflect what a noise is produced by your belly,
which is but small. Shall not the air, which is boundless, produce these
mighty claps of thunder?
STREPSIADES. But tell me this. Whence comes the lightning, the dazzling
flame, which at times consumes the man it strikes, at others hardly
singes him. Is it not plain, that 'tis Zeus hurling it at the perjurers?
