_Dor._ Why, here is Philostratus too. _Pa._ Oh, what will become of me? oh that the earth would swallow me up! _Phi._ Well, my dear, where is that wine? _Pa._ (Now he has gone and done it!) Ah, Polemon, so you are back at last; are you well? _Po._ Who is this person coming to you? What, no answer? Oh, mighty fine, Pannychis! Here have I come on the wings of love--the whole way from Thermopylae in five days; and all for a woman like this! But I deserve it; I ought to be grateful; I shall not be plundered any more, that is something. _Phi._ And who may you be, good sir? _Po._ Polemon, deme Stiria, tribe Pandionis; will that do for you? late colonel, now general of division, and Pannychis's lover, so long as he supposed a mere man was good enough for her. _Phi._ At present, however, sir free-lance, Pannychis is mine. She has had one talent, and will have another as soon as my cargoes are disposed of. Come along, Pannychis; the colonel can keep his colonelling for the Odrysians. _Dor._ She is a free woman; it is for her to say whether she will come along or not. _Pa._ What shall I do, Dorcas? _Dor._ Better go in; Polemon is too angry to talk to now, and a little jealousy will only whet his appetite. _Pa._ Well, if you think so, let us go in. _Po._ I give you both fair warning that you drink your last drink to-day; I ought to know by this time how to part soul from body. Parmenon, the Thracians. Full armour, battle array, this alley blocked. Pikemen in the centre, slingers and archers on the flanks, and the remainder in the rear. _Phi._ You take us for babies, Mr. Mercenary, to judge from your appeal to our imaginations. Now I wonder whether you ever shed as much blood as runs in a cock's veins, or ever looked on war; to stretch a point in your favour, I dare say you may have been corporal in charge of a bit of wall somewhere. _Po._ You will know ere long, when you look upon our serried ranks of glittering steel. _Phi._ Oh, pack up your traps and come, by all means. I and my Tibius--I have only one man, you see--will scatter you so wide with a few stones and bricks that you shall never find one another again. H. XI _Tryphaena. Charmides_ _Try._ Well, to be sure! Get a girl to keep company with you, and then turn your back on her! Nothing but tears and groans! The wine was not good enough, I suppose, and you didn't want a _tête-à-tête_ dinner. Oh yes, I saw you were crying at dinner too. And now it is one continued wail like a baby's. What _is_ it all about, Charmides? _Do_ tell me; let me get that much out of my evening with you. _Ch._ Love is killing me, Tryphaena; I can stand it no longer.