Ti2 ARISTOPHANES.

take it. Now, how shall I wake him? Pheidy, my
boy!”

Phei. a What i is it, father?”

Strep. “Kiss me, and give me your hand. co

Phei. “Yes, yes; certainly.”
~ Strep. “Now, do you love me?”

Phei. “By the god of horses, yes.”

Strep. “None of that, none of that; the god of
horses is the cause of all my trouble. But if you
love me, my son, do what I shall ask you.”

Phei. “But what is it?”

Strep. “You'll do it, then?”

Phei. “ By Bacchus, yes.”

Strep. “Do you see that door over there?”

Phet. “Yes; what ef it?”

Strep. “That is the Reflectory of wise souls.
There live the men who can prove that the heaven
is a fire-cover, and we are the sparks. Give them
money, and they'll teach you to prove anything you
want, be it right or wrong.”

Phei. “Well, who are they?”

Strep. “1 don’t rightly know what they call them.
But they are very clever fellows.” be

Phei. “Oh! I know—the rascals! You mean
those pale, slipshod fellows, that tele oe de
_ and Cherephon, and their lot.”

Strep. “Hush! don’t say anything foolish. If-you
love your father, cut your horse-racing and take up
with them,”