Hail Bilitis, Mnasidika hail. --Sit down. How is your husband? --Much too well. Do not tell him that you have seen me. He'd kill me if he knew that I was here. --You need not fear.
--And there is your room? and there your bed? I beg your pardon. I am curious. --You know Myrrhina's bed, however. --So little. --They say it's pretty. --And lascivious; oh, my dear! but I must keep quiet.
--What do you wish of me? --That you lend me. . . --Speak. --1 dare not name the object. --We have none. --Truly? --Mnasidika is a virgin. --Well, where can one be bought? --At Drako, the harness--maker's.
--Tell me, too, who sells you your embroidery thread? Mine breaks if you even look at it. --1 make my own, but Naïs sells good thread. --At what price? --Three oboli. --That's dear. And the object? --Two drachmae. --Farewell.