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XIV.—THE LOVE OF CYNISCA
AESCHINAS
A very good day to master Thyonichus.
THYONICHUS
To Aeschinas the same.
AESCHINAS
Well met!
THYONICHUS
Well met it is ; but what ails ye?
AESCHINAS
Luck’s way's not my way, Thyonichus.
THYONICHUS
Ah! that’s for why thou’rt so lean and the hair o’ thy lip so lank, and thy love-locks all-to-bemoiled. Thou’rt like one of your Pythagoreaners that came t’other day, pale-faced and never a shoe to’s foot; hailed from Athens, he said.
AESCHINAS
And was he, too, in love?
THYONICHUS
Aye, marry, was he—with a dish o’ porridge.
AESCHINAS
Thou’lt be ever at thy quips, good lad. With me ’tis the pretty Cynisca, and she’s playing the jade. And I doubt ’tis but a hair’s-breadth betwixt me and a madman.
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