MAGISTRATE. Well, what is it you have there then?
HERALD. A Lacedaemonian 'skytalé.'[453]
MAGISTRATE. Oh, indeed, a 'skytalé,' is it? Well, well, speak out frankly; I know all about these matters. How are things going at Sparta now?
HERALD. Why, everything is turned upside down at Sparta; and all the allies are half dead with lusting. We simply must have Pellené.[454]
MAGISTRATE. What is the reason of it all? Is it the god Pan's doing?
HERALD. No, but Lampito's and the Spartan women's, acting at her instigation; they have denied the men all access to their cunts.
MAGISTRATE. But whatever do you do?
HERALD. We are at our wits' end; we walk bent double, just as if we were carrying lanterns in a wind. The jades have sworn we shall not so much as touch their cunts till we have all agreed to conclude peace.
MAGISTRATE. Ha, ha! So I see now, 'tis a general conspiracy embracing all Greece. Go you back to Sparta and bid them send Envoys with plenary powers to treat for peace. I will urge our Senators myself to name Plenipotentiaries from us; and to persuade them, why, I will show them this. (Pointing to his erect penis.)
HERALD. What could be better? I fly at your command.