_Cyn_. Come, I will speak my mind; and in the name of Destiny
and the Fates take not my candour amiss. If the case stands thus,
if the Fates are mistresses of all, and their decisions
unalterable, then why do men sacrifice to _you_, and bring
hecatombs, and pray for good at _your_ hands? If our prayers
can neither save us from evil nor procure us any boon from Heaven,
I fail to see what we get for our trouble.

_Zeus_. These are nice questions! I see how it is,--you have
been with the sophists; accursed race! who would deny us all
concern in human affairs. Yes, these are just the points they
raise, impiously seeking to pervert mankind from the way of
sacrifice and prayer: it is all thrown away, forsooth! the Gods
take no thought for mankind; they have no power on the earth.--Ah
well; they will be sorry for it some day.

_Cyn_. Now, by Clotho's own spindle, my questions are free
from all sophistic taint. How it has come about, I know not; but
one word has brought up another, and the end of it is--there is no
use in sacrifice. Let us begin again. I will put you a few more
questions; answer me frankly, but think before you speak, this
time.

_Zeus_. Well; if you have the time to waste on such
tomfoolery.

_Cyn_. Everything proceeds from the Fates, you say?

_Zeus_. Yes.