He raised aloft a mighty metaniptris, Brimfull of wine, in equal portions mix'd, Repeating all the time Hygeia's name. And Philoxenus the Dithyrambic poet, in his ode entitled the Supper, pledging some one after they have washed their hands, says— Do you, my friend, receive This metaniptris full of wine, The sweetly dewy gift of Bacchus. Bromius gives this placid joy, To lead all men to happiness. And Antiphanes, in his Torch, says— Our table shall now be this barley-cake, And then this metaniptrum of Good Fortune . . . . . Nicostratus, in his Woman returning Love, says— Pour over him the metaniptrum of health. 74. Then there is the mastus. Apollodorus the Cyrenæan, as Pamphilus says, states that this is a name given to drinking-cups by the Paphians. There are also the mathalides. Blæsus, in his Saturn, says— Pour out for us now seven mathalides Full of sweet wine. And Pamphilus says, "Perhaps this is a kind of cup, or is it only a measure like the cyathus" But Diodorus calls it a cup of the κύλιξ class. 75. There is also the manes, which is a species of cup. Nicon, in his Harp-player, says— And some seasonably then exclaim'd, My fellow-countryman, I drink to you; And in his hand he held an earthenware manes, Of ample size, well able to contain Five cotylæ of wine; and I received it. And both Didymus and Pamphilus have quoted these iambics. But that is also called manes which stands upon the cottabus, on which they throw the drops of wine in that game, which Sophocles, in his Salmoneus, called the brazen head, saying— This is a contest, and a noise of kisses; I give a prize to him who gains the victory In elegantly throwing the cottabus, And striking with just aim the brazen head. And Antiphanes, in his Birthday of Venus, says— _A._ I then will show you how: whoever throws The cottabus direct against the scale (πλάστιγξ), So as to make it fall— _B._ What scale? Do you Mean this small dish which here is placed above? _A._ That is the scale—he is the conqueror. _B._ How shall a man know this? _A._ Why, if he throw So as to reach it barely, it will fall Upon the manes,[65] and there'll be great noise. _B._ Does manes, then, watch o'er the cottabus, As if he were a slave? And Hermippus says in his Fates— You'll see, says he, a cottabus rod, Wallowing round among the chaff; But the manes hears no drops,— And you the wretched scale may see Lying by the garden gate, And thrown away among the rubbish. 76. There is the Nestoris also. Now concerning the shape of the cup of Nestor, the poet speaks thus—