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And you?

Yes, I agree with the others; I too would sooner go through the fire.

Oh, wanton, vicious sex! the poets have done well to make tragedies upon us; we are good for nothing then but love and lewdness! But you, my dear, you from hardy Sparta, if you join me, all may yet be well; help me, second me, I conjure you.

’Tis a hard thing, by the two goddesses it is! for a woman to sleep alone without ever a standing weapon in her bed. But there, Peace must come first.

Oh, my dear, my dearest, best friend, you are the only one deserving the name of woman!

But if—which the gods forbid—we do refrain altogether from what you say, should we get peace any sooner?

Of course we should, by the goddesses twain! We need only sit indoors with painted cheeks, and meet our mates lightly clad in transparent gowns of Amorgos silk, and