STREPSIADES [_boxes his ears_].—For putting such a thick wick in, to be sure. Well, in due time, this boy of ours was born To me and my grand lady. First of all, We got to loggerheads about his name; She would have something that had got a _horse_ in it— Xanthippus—or Charippus—or Philippides; I was for his grandfather’s name—Pheidonides.[33] Well, for some time we squabbled; then at last We came to a compromise upon Pheidippides. This boy—she’d take him in her lap and fondle him, And say,‘Ah! when it grows up to be a man, It shall drive horses, like its uncle Megacles, And wear a red cloak, it shall.’ Then I would say, ‘He shall wear a good sheep-skin coat, like his own father, And drive his goats to market from the farm.’” Strepsiades finally bethinks him of a plan for paying his debts. He will have his son trained by the Sophists; and when the creditors bring the case into court, Pheidippides shall plead his cause, and defeat them with fallacious arguments even in the face of a thousand witnesses. Father and son at once arise, dress, and walk out in the direction of the Sophists’ school. Arrived in front of it, Strepsiades remarks:— “That’s the great Thinking-school of our new philosophers; There live the men who teach that heaven around us Is a vast oven, and we the charcoal in it. And they teach too—for a consideration, mind— To plead a cause and win it, right or wrong. PHEIDIPPIDES [_carelessly_].—Who are these fellows? STREPSIADES.—I don’t quite remember The name they call themselves, it’s such a long one; Very hard thinkers—but they’re first-rate men. PHEIDIPPIDES.—Faugh! vulgar fellows—I know ’em. Dirty vagabonds, Like Socrates there and Chærephon; a low set. STREPSIADES.—Pray hold your tongue—don’t show your ignorance, But, if you care at all for your old father, Be one of them; now do, and cut the turf. PHEIDIPPIDES.—Not I, by Bacchus! not if you would give me That team of Arabs which Leogoras drives. STREPSIADES.—Do, my dear boy, I beg you—go and be taught. PHEIDIPPIDES.—What shall I learn there? STREPSIADES.—Learn? Why, they do say That these men have the secret of both Arguments, The honest Argument (if there be such a thing) and the other; Now this last—this false Argument, you understand— Will make the veriest rascal win his cause. So if you’ll go and learn for us this glorious art, The debts I owe for you will all be cleared; For I shan’t pay a single man a farthing. PHEIDIPPIDES.—No—I can’t do it. Studying hard, you see, Spoils the complexion. How could I show my face Among the knights, looking a beast, like those fellows? STREPSIADES.—Then, sir, henceforth I swear, so help me Ceres, I won’t maintain you—you, nor your bays, nor your chestnuts. Go to the dogs—or anywhere—out of my house!”