Myrrhiné (coming back with a blanket).
Now, get up for one moment.
Cinesias.
But I tell you, our friend here is up—all stiff and ready!
Myrrhiné.
Would you like me to scent you?
Cinesias.
No, by Apollo, no, please!
Myrrhiné.
Yes, by Aphrodité, but I will, whether you wish it or no.
Cinesias.
Ah! great Zeus, may she soon be done!
Myrrhiné (coming back with a flask of perfume).
Hold out your hand; now rub it in.
Cinesias.
Oh! in Apollo’s name, I don’t much like the smell of it; but perhaps ’twill improve when it’s well rubbed in. It does not somehow smack of the marriage bed!
Myrrhiné.
There, what a scatterbrain I am; if I have not brought Rhodian perfumes![1]
Cinesias.
Never mind, dearest, let be now.
Myrrhiné.
Your are joking!
Cinesias.
Deuce take the man who first invented perfumes, say I!
- ↑ The Rhodian perfumes and unguents were less esteemed than the Syrian.
