DEMOSTHENES. Very well, come along, pour me out wine and plenty of it.
NICIAS. Take it and offer a libation to your Good Genius; taste, taste the liquor of the genial soil of Pramnium.[17]
DEMOSTHENES. Oh, Good Genius! 'Tis thy will, not mine.
NICIAS. Prithee, tell me, what is it?
DEMOSTHENES. Run indoors quick and steal the oracles of the Paphlagonian, while he is asleep.[18]
NICIAS. Bless me! I fear this Good Genius will be but a very Bad Genius for me.
DEMOSTHENES. And set the flagon near me, that I may moisten my wit to invent some brilliant notion.
NICIAS (enters the house and returns at once). How the Paphlagonian grunts and snores! I was able to seize the sacred oracle, which he was guarding with the greatest care, without his seeing me.
DEMOSTHENES. Oh! clever fellow! Hand it here, that I may read. Come, pour me out some drink, bestir yourself! Let me see what there is in it. Oh! prophecy! Some drink! some drink! Quick!
NICIAS. Well! what says the oracle?