PHIDIPPIDES. My uncle Megacles will not leave me without horses; I shall go to him and laugh at your anger.
STREPSIADES. One rebuff shall not dishearten me. With the help of the gods I will enter this school and learn myself. But at my age, memory has gone and the mind is slow to grasp things. How can all these fine distinctions, these subtleties be learned? Bah! why should I dally thus instead of rapping at the door? Slave, slave! (He knocks and calls.)
A DISCIPLE. A plague on you! Who are you?
STREPSIADES. Strepsiades, the son of Phido, of the deme of Cicynna.
DISCIPLE. 'Tis for sure only an ignorant and illiterate fellow who lets drive at the door with such kicks. You have brought on a miscarriage—of an idea!
STREPSIADES. Pardon me, pray; for I live far away from here in the country. But tell me, what was the idea that miscarried?
DISCIPLE. I may not tell it to any but a disciple.
STREPSIADES. Then tell me without fear, for I have come to study among you.
DISCIPLE. Very well then, but reflect, that these are mysteries. Lately, a flea bit Chaerephon on the brow and then from there sprang on to the head of Socrates. Socrates asked Chaerephon, "How many times the length of its legs does a flea jump?"
STREPSIADES. And how ever did he set about measuring it?