Book V, 181

Buy us some . . . (but when will he come ?) and five rose wreaths.—Why do you say “pax”’!? You say you have no change! We are ruined; won't someone string up the Lapith beast! I have a brigand not a servant. So you are not at fault! Not at all! Bring your account. Phryne, fetch me my reckoning counters. Oh the rascal! Wine, five drachmae! Sausage, two! ormers you say, mackerel . ... honeycombs! We will reckon them up correctly to-morrow; now go to Aeschra’s perfumery and get five silver bottles (?) Tell her as a token that Bacchon kissed her five times right off, of which fact her bed was entered as a witness.