You appear to me to have had your brains shaken as it were. Amynias. And you appear to me, by Hermes, to be going to be summoned, if you will not pay me the money? Strepsiades. Tell me now, whether you think that Jupiter always rains fresh rain on each occasion, or that the sun draws from below the same water back again? Amynias. I know not which; nor do I care. Strepsiades. How then is it just that you should recover your money, if you know nothing of meteorological matters? Amynias. Well, if you are in want, pay me the interest of my money. Strepsiades. What sort of animal is this interest? Amynias. Most assuredly the money is always becoming more and more every month and every day as the time slips away. Strepsiades. You say well. What then? Is it possible that you consider the sea to be greater now than formerly? Amynias. No, by Jupiter, but equal; for it is not fitting that it should be greater. Strepsiades. And how then, you wretch does this become no way greater, though the rivers flow into it, while you seek to increase your money? Will you not take yourself off from my house? Bring me the goad. Enter Servant with a goad. Amynias. I call you to witness these things. Strepsiades. (beating him). Go! Why do you delay? Won’t you march, Mr. Blood-horse? Amynias. Is not this an insult, pray? Strepsiades. Will you move quickly?
 Pricks him behind with the goad. 
I’ll lay on you, goading you behind, you outrigger? Do you fly?
 Amynias runs off. I thought I should stir you, together with your wheels and your two-horse chariots. Exit Strepsiades. Chorus. What a thing it is to love evil courses! For this old man, having loved them, wishes to withhold the money that he borrowed. And he will certainly meet with something today, which will perhaps cause this sophist to suddenly receive some misfortune, in return for the knaveries he has begun. Chorus. For I think that he will presently find what has been long boiling up, that his son is skilful to speak opinions opposed to justice, so as to overcome all with whomsoever he holds converse, even if he advance most villainous doctrines; and perhaps, perhaps his father will wish that he were even speechless. Strepsiades. (running out of the house pursued by his son). Hollo! Hollo! O neighbours, and kinsfolk, and fellow-tribesmen, defend me, by all means, who am being beaten! Ah me, unhappy man, for my head and jaw! Wretch! Do you beat your father? Phidippides. Yes, father. Strepsiades. You see him owning that he beats me. Phidippides. Certainly. Strepsiades. O wretch, and parricide, and house-breaker! Phidippides. Say the same things of me again, and more. Do you know that I take pleasure in being much abused? Strepsiades. You blackguard!