The Clouds (cont'd)
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Chorus. Now meditate and examine closely; and roll yourself about in every way, having wrapped yourself up; and quickly, when you fall into a difficulty, spring to another mental contrivance. But let delightful sleep be absent from your eyes.
Strepsiades. Attatai! Attatai!
Chorus. What ails you? Why are you distressed?
Strepsiades. Wretched man, I am perishing! The Corinthians, coming out from the bed, are biting me, and devouring my sides, and drinking up my life-blood, and tearing away my flesh, and digging through my vitals, and will annihilate me.
Chorus. Do not now be very grievously distressed.
Strepsiades. Why, how, when my money is gone, my complexion gone, my life gone, and my slipper gone? And furthermore in addition to these evils, with singing the night-watches, I am almost gone myself.
[Re-enter Socrates]
Socrates. Ho you! What are you about? Are you not meditating?
Strepsiades. I? Yea, by Neptune!
Socrates. And what, pray, have you thought?
Strepsiades. Whether any bit of me will be left by the bugs.
Socrates. You will perish most wretchedly.
Strepsiades. But, my good friend, I have already perished.
Socrates. You must not give in, but must wrap yourself up; for you have to discover a device for abstracting, and a means of cheating.
[Walks up and down while Strepsiades wraps himself up in the blankets.]
Strepsiades. Ah me! Would, pray, some one would throw over me a swindling contrivance from the sheep-skins.
Socrates. Come now; I will first see this fellow, what he is about. Ho you! Are you asleep?
Strepsiades. No, by Apollo, I am not!
Socrates. Have you got anything?
Strepsiades. No; by Jupiter, certainly not!
Socrates. Nothing at all?
Strepsiades. Nothing, except what I have in my right hand.
Socrates. Will you not quickly cover yourself up and think of something?
Strepsiades. About what? For do you tell me this, O Socrates!
Socrates. Do you, yourself, first find out and state what you wish.
Strepsiades. You have heard a thousand times what I wish. About the interest; so that I may pay no one.
Socrates. Come then, wrap yourself up, and having given your mind play with subtilty, revolve your affairs by little and little, rightly distinguishing and examining.
Strepsiades. Ah me, unhappy man!
Socrates. Keep quiet; and if you be puzzled in any one of your conceptions, leave it and go; and then set your mind in motion again, and lock it up.
Strepsiades. (in great glee). O dearest little Socrates!
Socrates. What, old man?
Strepsiades. I have got a device for cheating them of the interest.
Socrates. Exhibit it.
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