Come down, my sweetest, come for the child's sake.
MYRRHINE
A trying life it is to be a mother!
I suppose I'd better go. She comes down.
CINESIAS
How much younger she looks,
How fresher and how prettier! Myrrhine,
Lift up your lovely face, your disdainful face;
And your ankle ... let your scorn step out its worst;
It only rubs me to more ardor here.
MYRRHINE (playing with the child)
You're as innocent as he's iniquitous.
Let me kiss you, honey-petting, mother's darling.
CINESIAS
How wrong to follow other women's counsel
And let loose all these throbbing voids in yourself
As well as in me. Don't you go throb-throb?
MYRRHINE