Clouds (0-80b)

Ah me! Ah me! O King Jupiter, of what a terrible length the nights are! Will it never be day? And yet long since I heard the cock.

My domestics are snoring; but they would not have done so heretofore! May you perish then, O war! For many reasons; because I may not even punish my domestics. Neither does this excellent youth awake through the night; but takes his ease,

wrapped up in five blankets. Well, if it is the fashion, let us snore wrapped up.

But I am not able, miserable man, to sleep, being tormented by my expenses, and my stud of horses, and my debts, through this son of mine. He with his long hair,

is riding horses and driving curricles, and dreaming of horses; while I am driven to distraction, as I see the moon bringing on the twentieths; for the interest is running on. Boy! Light a lamp, and bring forth my tablets, that I may take them and read

to how many I am indebted, and calculate the interest. Enter boy with a light and tablets. Come, let me see; what do I owe? Twelve minae to Pasias. Why twelve minae to Pasias? Why did I borrow them? When I bought the blood-horse. Ah me, unhappy! Would that it had had its eye knocked out with a stone first!

You are acting unfairly, Philo! Drive on your own course.

This is the bane that has destroyed me; for even in his sleep he dreams about horsemanship.

How many courses will the war-chariots run?

Many courses do you drive me, your father. But what debt came upon me after Pasias? Three minae to Amynias for a little chariot and pair of wheels.

Lead the horse home, after having given him a good rolling.

O foolish youth, you have rolled me out of my possessions; since I have been cast in suits, and others say that they will have surety given them for the interest.

Pray, father, why are you peevish, and toss about the whole night?

A bailiff out of the bedclothes is biting me.

Suffer me, good sir, to sleep a little.

Then, do you sleep on; but know that all these debts will turn on your head. Phidippides falls asleep again. Alas! Would that the match-maker had perished miserably, who induced me to marry your mother. For a country life used to be most agreeable to me, dirty, untrimmed, reclining at random,

abounding in bees, and sheep, and oil-cake. Then I, a rustic, married a niece of Megacles, the son of Megacles, from the city, haughty, luxurious, and Coesyrafied. When I married her, I lay with her

redolent of new wine, of the cheese-crate, and abundance of wool; but she, on the contrary, of ointment, saffron, wanton-kisses, extravagance, gluttony, and of Colias and Genetyllis. I will not indeed say that she was idle; but she wove. And I used to show her this cloak

by way of a pretext and say Wife, you weave at a great rate.

We have no oil in the lamp.

Ah me! Why did you light the thirsty lamp? Come hither that you may weep!

For what, pray, shall I weep?

Because you put in one of the thick wicks.

After this, when this son was born to us, to me, forsooth, and to my excellent wife, we squabbled then about the name: for she was for adding hippos to the name, Xanthippus, or Charippus, or Callipides;

but I was for giving him the name of his grandfather, Phidonides. For a time therefore we disputed; and then at length we agreed, and called him Phidippides. She used to take this son and fondle him, saying, When you, being grown up, shall drive your chariot to the city,

like Megacles, with a xystis. But I used to say, Nay, rather, when dressed in a leathern jerkin, you shall drive goats from Phelleus, like your father. He paid no attention to my words, but poured a horse-fever over my property.

Now, therefore, by meditating the whole night, I have discovered one path for my course extraordinarily excellent; to which if I persuade this youth I shall be saved. But first I wish to awake him. How then can I awake him in the most agreeable manner? How?

Phidippides, my little Phidippides?

What, father?