XANTHIAS. Indeed! and so had I. A dream such as I never had before. But first tell me yours. SOSIAS. Methinks I saw an eagle, a gigantic bird, descend upon the market-place; it seized a brazen buckler with its talons and bore it away into the highest heavens; then I saw 'twas Cleonymus had thrown it away. XANTHIAS. This Cleonymus is a riddle worth propounding among guests. How can one and the same animal have cast away his buckler both on land, in the sky and at sea?[3] SOSIAS. Alas! what ill does such a dream portend for me? XANTHIAS. Rest undisturbed! An it please the gods, no evil will befall you. SOSIAS. Nevertheless, 'tis a fatal omen when a man throws away his weapons. But what was your dream? Let me hear. XANTHIAS. Oh! it is a dream of high import. It has reference to the hull of the State; to nothing less. SOSIAS. Tell it me quickly; show me its very keel. XANTHIAS. In my first slumber I thought I saw sheep, wearing cloaks and carrying staves,[4] met in assembly on the Pnyx; a rapacious whale was haranguing them and screaming like a pig that is being grilled. SOSIAS. Faugh! faugh! XANTHIAS. What's the matter? SOSIAS. Enough, enough, spare me. Your dream stinks vilely of old leather.[5] XANTHIAS. Then this scoundrelly whale seized a balance and set to weighing ox-fat.[6] SOSIAS. Alas! 'tis our poor Athenian people, whom this accursed beast wished to cut up and despoil of their fat. XANTHIAS. Seated on the ground close to it, I saw Theorus,[7] who had the head of a crow. The Alcibiades said to me in his lisping way, "Do you thee? Theoruth hath a crow'th head."[8] SOSIAS. Ah! 'twas very well lisped indeed! XANTHIAS. This is might strange; Theorus turning into a crow! SOSIAS. No, it is glorious. XANTHIAS. Why? SOSIAS. Why? He was a man and now he has suddenly become a crow; does it not foretoken that he will take his flight from here and go to the crows?[9] XANTHIAS. Interpreting dreams so aptly certainly deserves two obols.[10] SOSIAS. Come, I must explain the matter to the spectators. But first a few words of preamble: expect nothing very high-flown from us, nor any jests stolen from Megara;[11] we have no slaves, who throw baskets of nuts[12] to the spectators, nor any Heracles to be robbed of his dinner,[13] nor is Euripides loaded with contumely; and despite the happy chance that gave Cleon his fame[14] we shall not go out of our way to belabour him again. Our little subject is not wanting in sense; it is well within your capacity and at the same time cleverer than many vulgar Comedies.--We have a master of great renown, who is now sleeping up there on the other story. He has bidden us keep guard over his father, whom he has locked in, so that he may not go out. This father has a curious complaint; not one of you could hit upon or guess it, if I did not tell you.--Well then, try! I hear Amynias, the son of Pronapus, over there, saying, "He is addicted to gambling."