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Ph. Not I, by Bacchus! not if you would give me

That team of Arabs that Leogoras drives.

Str. (coaxingly). Do, my dear boy, I beg you—go and be taught.

Ph. And what shall I learn there?

Str. Learn? (Confidentially.) Why, they do say

That these men have the secret of both Arguments,

The honest Argument (if there be such a thing) and the other;

Now this last—this false Argument, you understand—

Will make the veriest rascal win his cause.

So, if you'll go and learn for us this glorious art,

The debts I owe for you will all be cleared;

For I shan't pay a single man a farthing.

Ph. (after a little hesitation). No—I can't do it. Studying hard, you see,

Spoils the complexion. How could I show my face

Among the Knights, looking a beast, like those fellows?

Str. Then, sir, henceforth I swear, so help me Ceres,

I won't maintain you—you, nor your bays, nor your chestnuts.

Go to the dogs—or anywhere—out of my house!

Ph. Well, sir, I'm going. I know my uncle Megacles

Won't see me without a horse—so I don't mind.

Indignant as he is with his son, the father is determined not to lose the chance which this new science offers him of getting rid of his creditors. If his son will not learn, he will take lessons himself, old as he is; and with this resolve he knocks at the door of this "Thinking-School," the house of Socrates. One of the students comes to answer his summons—in no very good humour, for the loudness and suddenness of Strepsiades's knock has destroyed in embryo a thought which he was breeding. Still, as the old gentleman