All hail, my roof, my doors, my hearth and home!
Menippus the cynic, surely; even so, or there are visions about. Menippus, every inch of him. What has he been getting himself up like that for? sailor’s cap, lyre, and lion-skin? However, here goes.—How are you, Menippus? where do you spring from? you have disappeared this long time.
Death’s lurking-place I leave, and those dark gates
Good gracious! has Menippus died, all on the quiet, and come to life for a second spell?
Not so; a living guest in Hades I.
But what induced you to take this queer original journey?
Youth drew me on—too bold, too little wise.
My good man, truce to your heroics; get off those iambic stilts, and tell me in plain prose what this get-up means; what did you want with the lower regions? It is a journey that needs a motive to make it attractive.
Dear friend, to Hades’ realms I needs must go,
Man, you must be mad; or why string verses instead of talking like one friend with another?
My dear fellow, you need not be so surprised. I have just been in Euripides’s and Homer’s company; I suppose I am full to the throat with verse, and the numbers come as soon as I open my mouth.