Aristxnetus, xxv, furnishes yet another excellent illustration. The prostitute Philanis, in writing to a friend of the same ancient profession, accuses her sister of alienating her lover's affections. I avail myself of Sheridan's masterly version. PHILANIS TO PETALA. As yesterday I went to dine With Pamphilus, a swain of mine, I took my sister, little heeding The net I for myself was spreading Though many circumstances led To prove she'd mischief in her head. For first her dress in every part Was studied with the nicest art Deck'd out with necklaces and rings, And twenty other foolish things; And she had curl'd and bound her hair With more than ordinary care And then, to show her youth the more, A light, transparent robe she wore-- From head to heel she seemed t'admire In raptures all her fine attire: And often turn'd aside to view If others gazed with rapture too. At dinner, grown more bold and free, She parted Pamphilus and me; For veering round unheard, unseen, She slily drew her chair between. Then with alluring, am'rous smiles And nods and other wanton wiles, The unsuspecting youth insnared, And rivall'd me in his regard.-- Next she affectedly would sip The liquor that had touched his lip. He, whose whole thoughts to love incline, And heated with th' enliv'ning wine, With interest repaid her glances, And answer'd all her kind advances. Thus sip they from the goblet's brink Each other's kisses while they drink; Which with the sparkling wine combin'd, Quick passage to the heart did find. Then Pamphilus an apple broke, And at her bosom aim'd the stroke, While she the fragment kiss'd and press'd, And hid it wanton in her breast. But I, be sure, was in amaze, To see my sister's artful ways: "These are returns," I said, "quite fit To me, who nursed you when a chit. For shame, lay by this envious art; Is this to act a sister's part?" But vain were words, entreaties vain, The crafty witch secured my swain. By heavens, my sister does me wrong; But oh! she shall not triumph long. Well Venus knows I'm not in fault 'Twas she who gave the first assault And since our peace her treach'ry broke, Let me return her stroke for stroke.