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![450]
CINESIAS. Never mind, dearest, let be now.