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A Literal Translation, with Notes.
88 pages - You are on Page 36
DIONYSUS. No. You are the exact image of the god of Melite,[441] dressed up as a rascal. Come, I will take the baggage.
FEMALE ATTENDANT OF PERSEPHONE. Ah! is it you then, beloved Heracles? Come in. As soon as ever the goddess, my mistress Persephone, knew of your arrival, she quickly had the bread into the oven and clapped two or three pots of bruised peas upon the fire; she has had a whole bullock roasted and both cakes and rolled backed. Come in quick!
XANTHIAS. No, thank you.
ATTENDANT. Oh! by Apollo! I shall not let you off. She has also had poultry boiled for you, sweetmeats makes, and has prepared you some delicious wine. Come then, enter with me.
XANTHIAS. I am much obliged.
ATTENDANT. Are you mad? I will not let you go. There is likewise and enchanted flute-girl specially for you, and two or three dancing wenches.
XANTHIAS. What do you say? Dancing wenches?
ATTENDANT. In the prime of their life and all freshly depilated. Come, enter, for the cook was going to take the fish off the fire and the table was being spread.
XANTHIAS. Very well then! Run in quickly and tell the dancing-girls I am coming. Slave! pick up the baggage and follow me.
[441] That is, Heracles, whose temple was at Melite, a suburban deme of Athens.
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