On this the cook said—I, then, will relate to you now, not an ancient contrivance, but a device of my own, in order that the flute-player may escape being beaten; (for Eubulus, in his Lacedæmonians or Leda, says—
But I have heard of this, I swear by Vesta,And Philyllius, or whoever the poet may have been who wrote the play of The Cities, says—
That when the cook at home makes any blunder,
The flute-player is always beaten for it.
Whatever blunders now the cook may make,And I mean the device about the pig half-roasted, half-boiled, and stuffed, without having had any apparent incision made in him. The fact is, the pig was stuck with a very short wound under his shoulder; (and he showed the wound.) Then when the greater part of the blood had flowed from it, all the entrails, with the intestines, I washed (and the word ἐξαίρεσις, O you revellers who think so much of words, means [p. 600] not only a taking out, but also the entrails themselves) care- fully in wine several times, and hung the pig up by his feet. Then again I washed him in wine; and having boiled up beforehand all the seasonings which I have spoken of with a good deal of pepper, I pushed them in at his mouth, pouring in afterwards a quantity of broth very carefully made. And after this I plastered over one-half of the pig, as you see, with a great quantity of barleymeal, having soaked that in wine and oil. And then I put it in an oven, placing under it a brazen table, and I roasted it at a gentle fire, so as not to burn it, nor, on the other hand, to take it away before it was quite done. And when the skin began to get roasted and brown, I conjectured that the other side was boiled enough. And so then I took off the barleymeal, and brought it up in that condition and set it before you.
The flute-player receives the stripes for them.)