Micyllus

Bless me, how dark it is! Where is handsome Megillus now? There would be no telling Simmiche from Phryne. All complexions are alike here, no question of beauty, greater or less. Why, the cloak I thought so shabby before passes muster here as well as royal purple; the darkness hides both alike. Cyniscus, whereabouts are you?

Cynic

Use your ears; here I am. We might walk together. What do you say?

Micyllus

Very good; give me your hand.—I suppose you have been admitted to the mysteries at Eleusis? That must have been something like this, I should think?

Cynic

Pretty much. Look, here comes a torch-bearer; a grim, forbidding dame. A Fury, perhaps?

Micyllus

She looks like it, certainly.