But you are right as usual, Herse, as usual, only--here am I battening like a senator while you--I lay a wager you have drunk nothing but milk all day and eaten nothing but bread and radishes.

I thought so?
Then the chicken must pretend to be a pheasant and you, wife, will eat this leg.

The girls are gone to bed?
Why here is some wine too! Fill up your cup, boy.

A libation to the God! Glory to Dionysus!" The two men poured the libation on the floor and drank; then the father thrust his knife into the breast of the bird and began his meal with a will, while Orpheus, the son, went on with his story: "Well, the temple of Dionysus was not to be found, for Bishop Theophilus has had it destroyed; so to what divinity could we offer our wreath and cake?
Here in Egypt there is none but the great Mother Isis.

Her sanctuary is on the shore of Lake Mareotis and mother found it at once.
There she fell into conversation with a priestess who, as soon as she learnt that my mother belonged to a family of musicians--though Dame Herse was cautious in announcing this fact--and hoped to find employment in Alexandria, led her away to a young lady who was closely veiled.