If it be a question of
hardiness
for labour, of spending
whole nights at work, of living sparingly, of fighting my stomach and
only eating chick-pease, rest assured, I am as hard as an anvil.
whole nights at work, of living sparingly, of fighting my stomach and
only eating chick-pease, rest assured, I am as hard as an anvil.
Aristophanes
STREPSIADES. I cannot tell, but it seems to me well argued. What is the
thunder then?
SOCRATES. When a dry wind ascends to the Clouds and gets shut into them,
it blows them out like a bladder; finally, being too confined, it bursts
them, escapes with fierce violence and a roar to flash into flame by
reason of its own impetuosity.
STREPSIADES. Forsooth, 'tis just what happened to me one day. 'Twas at
the feast of Zeus! I was cooking a sow's belly for my family and I had
forgotten to slit it open. It swelled out and, suddenly bursting,
discharged itself right into my eyes and burnt my face.
CHORUS. Oh, mortal! you, who desire to instruct yourself in our great
wisdom, the Athenians, the Greeks will envy you your good fortune. Only
you must have the memory and ardour for study, you must know how to stand
the tests, hold your own, go forward without feeling fatigue, caring but
little for food, abstaining from wine, gymnastic exercises and other
similar follies, in fact, you must believe as every man of intellect
should, that the greatest of all blessings is to live and think more
clearly than the vulgar herd, to shine in the contests of words.
STREPSIADES.
If it be a question of hardiness for labour, of spending
whole nights at work, of living sparingly, of fighting my stomach and
only eating chick-pease, rest assured, I am as hard as an anvil.
SOCRATES. Henceforward, following our example, you will recognize no
other gods but Chaos, the Clouds and the Tongue, these three alone.
STREPSIADES. I would not speak to the others, even if I should meet them
in the street; not a single sacrifice, not a libation, not a grain of
incense for them!
CHORUS. Tell us boldly then what you want of us; you cannot fail to
succeed, if you honour and revere us and if you are resolved to become a
clever man.
STREPSIADES. Oh, sovereign goddesses, 'tis but a very small favour that I
ask of you; grant that I may distance all the Greeks by a hundred stadia
in the art of speaking.
CHORUS. We grant you this, and henceforward no eloquence shall more often
succeed with the people than your own.
STREPSIADES. May the god shield me from possessing great eloquence! 'Tis
not what I want. I want to be able to turn bad lawsuits to my own
advantage and to slip through the fingers of my creditors.
CHORUS.
