And so the slave goes on bantering her. The last expression I may explain by the way. It refers to a curious mode of kissing practised by Greeks and Romans. When a person wished to give a good hearty kiss to one very dearly beloved, he seized her by the ears and performed the operation with more comfort and heartiness. Another slave, partner with Leonidas, afterwards asks her to call him by some other sweet names. The girl addresses him, “My Libanus, my golden little eye, the gift and glory of love, if you please, I’ll do what you wish: only do give me the money.” “Just then,” he says, “call me your duckling, your dove, your puppy, your swallow, your jackdaw, your little sparrow, your little boy.” Such were the endearing epithets which the young women addressed to the young men. Now for those addressed to the young women by the young men. In the scene I am to adduce, a young man has asked his slave to try to gain for him the affections of a slave-girl of whom he is enamoured. The slave sets to work at once. The young man Agorastocles asks Milphio the slave,[252] “Why is this girl angry with me? “_Mil._ Why is this girl angry with you? Why should I care about that? That is your look-out. “_Ag._ By Hercules, you may drown yourself if you don’t make her as tranquil as the sea used to be when the halcyon led forth its young ones on it. “_Mil._ What am I to do? “_Ag._ Entreat her, butter her, stroke her. “_Mil._ I will do it carefully. Only take you care that you don’t afterwards heckle with your fists the man here who now acts as your ambassador. “_Ag._ I won’t.” The girl here says, addressing Agorastocles:-- “Let us go now. Are you still hesitating? You make big promises; but nothing ever comes of them. You have sworn to free me, not once, but a hundred times: alas, I am still a slave.” The bashful lover utters the sad ejaculation:-- “It’s all up with me--eho!” And then, bethinking him of his ambassador and spokesman, he says to Milphio:-- “What are you about, Milphio?” Milphio begins the attack thus:-- “My delight, my darling, my life, my pleasure, my little eye, my little lip, my health, my kiss, my honey, my heart, my sweet new milk, my nice little soft cheese.” Agorastocles can’t stand this, and he can’t help speaking to himself:-- “Am I to endure these things being said in my presence? I am tortured, if I don’t order him off to the hangman.” Milphio goes on:-- “Do not, I beseech you, be angry with my master. If I don’t--now I see you are angry--I am sure he will make you free. “_The Girl._ Why won’t you let me go? What do you mean? “_Mil._ If my master has formerly played false with you, ever after this he will be true to you. “_The Girl._ Get away with you.