twice to the milking-pail, and feeds withaltwo young ones at her udder: say you nowwhat you will stake upon the match with me.MENALCASNaught from the flock I'll venture, for at homeI have a father and a step-dame harsh,and twice a day both reckon up the flock,and one withal the kids. But I will stake,seeing you are so mad, what you yourselfwill own more priceless far—two beechen cupsby the divine art of Alcimedonwrought and embossed, whereon a limber vine,wreathed round them by the graver's facile tool,twines over clustering ivy-berries pale.Two figures, one Conon, in the midst he set,and one—how call you him, who with his wandmarked out for all men the whole round of heaven,that they who reap, or stoop behind the plough,might know their several seasons? Nor as yethave I set lip to them, but lay them by.