Failing to induce his son to enter the Thinking-school, Strepsiades resolves himself to master the fashionable Argument that “pays no bills;” he has an interview with Socrates, and is introduced to the Clouds, the new goddesses of this misty philosophy. One of the most beautiful passages of the play—having the ring of the true metal—is the chorus of Clouds responding to the call of Socrates—first, behind the scenes, in the distance; then nearer; then rising from the lips of twenty-four gauze-clad nymphs, who descend upon the stage as personifications of the ethereal deities. CHORUS OF CLOUDS (_in the distance_). “Eternal clouds! Rise we to mortal view, Embodied in bright shapes of dewy sheen, Leaving the depths serene Where our loud-sounding Father Ocean dwells, For the wood-crownèd summits of the hills: Thence shall our glance command The beetling crags which sentinel the land, The teeming earth, The crops we bring to birth; Thence shall we hear The music of the ever-flowing streams, The low deep thunders of the booming sea. Lo, the bright Eye of Day unwearied beams! Shedding our veil of storms From our immortal forms, We scan with keen-eyed gaze this nether sphere.” CHORUS OF CLOUDS (_nearer_). “Sisters who bring the showers, Let us arise and greet This glorious land, for Pallas’ dwelling meet, Rich in brave men, beloved of Cecrops old; Where Faith and Reverence reign, Where comes no foot profane, When for the mystic rites the Holy Doors unfold. There gifts are duly paid To the great gods, and pious prayers are said; Tall temples rise, and statues heavenly fair. There at each holy tide, With coronals and song, The glad processions to the altars throng; There in the jocund spring, Great Bacchus, festive king, With dance and tuneful flute his Chorus leads along.” W. L. COLLINS. But though the Clouds assist Socrates in teaching Strepsiades, the pupil proves an utter dunce. Finally, in a moment of impatience, Socrates kicks him out of the school. At last Pheidippides is prevailed upon to study with the Sophists. He proves an apt scholar, rapidly developing into an unprincipled scamp. When his education as a sharper is completed, he brings to bear his specious arguments against the creditors, and cheats them out of their dues. So far, so good; but his notions of filial duty have also been greatly modified by the instructions of Socrates. A quarrel arising in the family, he hesitates not to fall upon his father with a cudgel, and threatens to do the same by his mother if she provokes him. With a curse upon Socrates, the outraged old gentleman calls his slaves, hurries to the Thinking-school, and sets fire to the building. Thus the play ends.