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Strep.
Then I will shout with a very loud shout: Ho! Weep, you petty-usurers, both you and your principals, and your compound interests! For you can no longer do me any harm, because such a son is being reared for me in this house, shining with a double-edged tongue, for my guardian, the preserver of my house, a mischief to my enemies, ending the sadness of the great woes of his father. Him do thou run and summon from within to me. Socrates goes into the house. O child! O son! Come forth from the house! Hear your father! Re-enter Socrates leading in Phidippides Soc.
Lo, here is the man! Strep.
O my dear, my dear! Soc.
Take your son and depart. Exit Socrates.
Aristophanes. Clouds. The Comedies of Aristophanes. William James Hickie. London. Bohn. 1853?.
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