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AMYNIAS. If you are short, pay me the interest, at any rate.
STREPSIADES. What kind of animal is interest?
AMYNIAS. What? Does not the sum borrowed go on growing, growing every month, each day as the time slips by?
STREPSIADES. Well put. But do you believe there is more water in the sea now than there was formerly?
AMYNIAS. No, 'tis just the same quant.i.ty. It cannot increase.
STREPSIADES. Thus, poor fool, the sea, that receives the rivers, never grows, and yet you would have your money grow? Get you gone, away with you, quick! Ho! bring me the ox-goad!
AMYNIAS. Hither! you witnesses there!
STREPSIADES. Come, what are you waiting for? Will you not budge, old nag!
AMYNIAS. What an insult!
STREPSIADES. Unless you get a-trotting, I shall catch you and p.r.i.c.k up your behind, you sorry packhorse! Ah! you start, do you? I was about to drive you pretty fast, I tell you-you and your wheels and your chariot!
CHORUS. Whither does the pa.s.sion of evil lead! here is a perverse old man, who wants to cheat his creditors; but some mishap, which will speedily punish this rogue for his shameful schemings, cannot fail to overtake him from to-day. For a long time he has been burning to have his son know how to fight against all justice and right and to gain even the most iniquitous causes against his adversaries every one. I think this wish is going to be fulfilled. But mayhap, mayhap, he will soon wish his son were dumb rather!
STREPSIADES. Oh! oh! neighbours, kinsmen, fellow-citizens, help! help! to the rescue, I am being beaten! Oh! my head! oh! my jaw! Scoundrel! do you beat your own father!
PHIDIPPIDES. Yes, father, I do.
STREPSIADES. See! he admits he is beating me.
PHIDIPPIDES. Undoubtedly I do.
STREPSIADES. You villain, you parricide, you gallows-bird!
PHIDIPPIDES. Go on, repeat your epithets, call me a thousand other names, an it please you. The more you curse, the greater my amus.e.m.e.nt!
STREPSIADES. Oh! you infamous cynic!
PHIDIPPIDES. How fragrant the perfume breathed forth in your words.
STREPSIADES. Do you beat your own father?
PHIDIPPIDES. Aye, by Zeus! and I am going to show you that I do right in beating you.
STREPSIADES. Oh, wretch! can it be right to beat a father?
PHIDIPPIDES. I will prove it to you, and you shall own yourself vanquished.
STREPSIADES. Own myself vanquished on a point like this?
PHIDIPPIDES. 'Tis the easiest thing in the world. Choose whichever of the two reasonings you like.
STREPSIADES. Of which reasonings?
PHIDIPPIDES. The Stronger and the Weaker.
STREPSIADES. Miserable fellow! Why, 'tis I who had you taught how to refute what is right, and now you would persuade me it is right a son should beat his father.
PHIDIPPIDES. I think I shall convince you so thoroughly that, when you have heard me, you will not have a word to say.
STREPSIADES. Well, I am curious to hear what you have to say.
CHORUS. Consider well, old man, how you can best triumph over him. His brazenness shows me that he thinks himself sure of his case; he has some argument which gives him nerve. Note the confidence in his look! But how did the fight begin? tell the Chorus; you cannot help doing that much.
STREPSIADES. I will tell you what was the start of the quarrel. At the end of the meal you wot of, I bade him take his lyre and sing me the air of Simonides, which tells of the fleece of the ram.[571] He replied bluntly, that it was stupid, while drinking, to play the lyre and sing, like a woman when she is grinding barley.
PHIDIPPIDES. Why, by rights I ought to have beaten and kicked you the very moment you told me to sing!
STREPSIADES. That is just how he spoke to me in the house, furthermore he added, that Simonides was a detestable poet. However, I mastered myself and for a while said nothing. Then I said to him, 'At least, take a myrtle branch and recite a pa.s.sage from Aeschylus to me.'-'For my own part,' he at once replied, 'I look upon Aeschylus as the first of poets, for his verses roll superbly; 'tis nothing but incoherence, bombast and turgidness.' Yet still I smothered my wrath and said, 'Then recite one of the famous pieces from the modern poets.' Then he commenced a piece in which Euripides shows, oh! horror! a brother, who violates his own uterine sister.[572] Then I could no longer restrain myself, and attacked him with the most injurious abuse; naturally he retorted; hard words were hurled on both sides, and finally he sprang at me, broke my bones, bore me to earth, strangled and started killing me!
PHIDIPPIDES. I was right. What! not praise Euripides, the greatest of our poets!
STREPSIADES. He the greatest of our poets! Ah! if I but dared to speak! but the blows would rain upon me harder than ever.
PHIDIPPIDES. Undoubtedly, and rightly too.
STREPSIADES. Rightly! oh! what impudence! to me, who brought you up! when you could hardly lisp, I guessed what you wanted. If you said broo, broo, well, I brought you your milk; if you asked for mam mam, I gave you bread; and you had no sooner said, caca, than I took you outside and held you out. And just now, when you were strangling me, I shouted, I bellowed that I would let all go; and you, you scoundrel, had not the heart to take me outside, so that here, though almost choking, I was compelled to ease myself.
CHORUS. Young men, your hearts must be panting with impatience. What is Phidippides going to say? If, after such conduct, he proves he has done well, I would not give an obolus for the hide of old men. Come, you, who know how to brandish and hurl the keen shafts of the new science, find a way to convince us, give your language an appearance of truth.
PHIDIPPIDES. How pleasant it is to know these clever new inventions and to be able to defy the established laws! When I thought only about horses, I was not able to string three words together without a mistake, but now that the master has altered and improved me and that I live in this world of subtle thought, of reasoning and of meditation, I count on being able to prove satisfactorily that I have done well to thrash my father.
STREPSIADES. Mount your horse! By Zeus! I would rather defray the keep of a four-in-hand team than be battered with blows.
PHIDIPPIDES. I revert to what I was saying when you interrupted me. And first, answer me, did you beat me in my childhood?
STREPSIADES. Why, a.s.suredly, for your good and in your own best interest.
PHIDIPPIDES. Tell me, is it not right, that in turn I should beat you for your good? since it is for a man's own best interest to be beaten. What! must your body be free of blows, and not mine? am I not free-born too? the children are to weep and the fathers go free?
STREPSIADES. But...
PHIDIPPIDES. You will tell me, that according to the law, 'tis the lot of children to be beaten. But I reply that the old men are children twice over and that it is far more fitting to chastise them than the young, for there is less excuse for their faults.
STREPSIADES. But the law nowhere admits that fathers should be treated thus.
PHIDIPPIDES. Was not the legislator who carried this law a man like you and me? In those days he got men to believe him; then why should not I too have the right to establish for the future a new law, allowing children to beat their fathers in turn? We make you a present of all the blows which were received before this law, and admit that you thrashed us with impunity. But look how the c.o.c.ks and other animals fight with their fathers; and yet what difference is there betwixt them and ourselves, unless it be that they do not propose decrees?
STREPSIADES. But if you imitate the c.o.c.ks in all things, why don't you scratch up the dunghill, why don't you sleep on a perch?
PHIDIPPIDES. That has no bearing on the case, good sir; Socrates would find no connection, I a.s.sure you.