SOCRATES. Do you really wish to know the truth of celestial matters?
STREPSIADES. Why, truly, if ‘tis possible.
SOCRATES. … and to converse with the clouds, who are our genii?
STREPSIADES. Without a doubt.
SOCRATES. Then be seated on this sacred couch.
STREPSIADES. I am seated.
SOCRATES. Now take this chaplet.
STREPSIADES. Why a chaplet? Alas! Socrates, would you sacrifice me, like Athamas?
SOCRATES. No, these are the rites of initiation.
STREPSIADES. And what is it I am to gain?
SOCRATES. You will become a thorough rattle-pate, a hardened old stager, the fine flour of the talkers…. But come, keep quiet. 1