What villainies they contrive! Come, let vengeance fall, You that below the waist are still alive, Off with your tunics at my call — Naked, all. For … - Aristophanes

Phid. In what then, pray, shall I obey you?
Strep. Reform your habits as quickly as possible, and go
and learn what I advise.
Phid. Tell me now, what do you prescribe?
Strep. And will you obey me at all?
Phid. By Bacchus, I will obey you.
Strep. Look this way then! Do you see this little door
and little house?
Phid. I see it. What then, pray, is this, father?
Strep. This is a thinking-shop of wise spirits. There
dwell men who in speaking of the heavens persuade people
that it is an oven, and that it encompasses us, and that
we are the embers. These men teach, if one give them
money, to conquer in speaking, right or wrong.
Phid. Who are they?
Strep. I do not know the name accurately. They are
minute philosophers, noble and excellent.
Phid. Bah! They are rogues; I know them. You mean the
quacks, the pale-faced wretches, the bare-footed
fellows, of whose numbers are the miserable Socrates and
Chaerephon.
Strep. Hold! Hold! Be silent! Do not say anything
foolish. But, if you have any concern for your father's
patrimony, become one of them, having given up your
horsemanship.
Phid. I would not, by Bacchus, even if you were to give
me the pheasants which Leogoras rears!
Strep. Go, I entreat you, dearest of men, go and be
taught.
Phid. Why, what shall I learn?
Strep. They say that among them are both the two
causes — the better cause, whichever that is, and the
worse: they say that the one of these two causes, the
worse, prevails, though it speaks on the unjust side.
If, therefore you learn for me this unjust cause, I
would not pay any one, not even an obolus of these
debts, which I owe at present on your account.
Phid. I can not comply; for I should not dare to look
upon the knights, having lost all my colour.

EL HOMBRE - ...No estamos acostumbrados a dar; solo nos gusta recibir, en lo cual imitamos a los dioses. Para convencerte, no tienes más que mirarles a las manos; sus imágenes, cuando les pedimos dones y mercedes, nos alargan las manos vueltas hacia arriba; no en actitud de dar sino de recibir.

Frogs embraces two transcendent issues, the decline of Athens as a great power, as the long Peloponnesian War (431-404) approached its end, and the decline of tragedy as a great form of art, with the recent deaths of the last two preeminent tragedians.