Do you know what you must do so that we can leave this land?

No, Odysseus. But I will do everything I can for you.

Sell us some bread, the thing we lack.

As I told you, we have nothing but meat.

That too is a pleasant way to put an end to hunger.

And there is curdled cheese and also cows' milk.

Bring them out: daylight befits merchandise.

But you, tell me, how much gold will you give in exchange?

It is not gold I carry but rather Dionysus' drink.

What happy words you speak! The very thing we have lacked so long!

What is more, Maron, the god's own son, gave me the drink.

The lad I once raised in these very arms?

Dionysus' son, to make my meaning clear.

Is it on board ship, or do you carry it with you?

This is the wine-skin that holds it, as you can see, old sir.

This would not even be a mouthful for me.

<You would not be able to drink this wine-skin dry.>:

<What? Does the skin produce new wine of itself?>The suppletions are, of course, mere guesses. A miraculous wine-skin is perfectly in keeping with the spirit of a satyr-play: compare the wine-miracle ascribed to Dionysus at Eur. Ba. 705.

Yes, twice as much drink as flows from the wine-skin.

What a lovely spring you speak of and one that gives me pleasure.

Would you like me to give you a taste of it neat first?

That's fair enough: a taste invites a purchase.

See, I've brought a cup with me.

Splash some in so that I can remember what it's like to drink.

Done.

Oh my, oh my! What a fine bouquet it has!

What? Have you caught the fragrance?

No, by Zeus, I smell it.

Taste it, then, so that your praise of it may not be mere words.

Oo la la! Bacchus invites me to the dance! Tra la, tra la, tra la!

Didn't it gurgle nicely down your throat?

Yes, all the way down to my toenails.

And what is more we will give you some money as well.

Just keep pouring the wine. Never mind the gold.

Then bring out cheese or lamb.

I will do just that and pay little heed to my master. I would like to drink down a single cup of this wine, giving all the Cyclopes' flocks in exchange for it, and then to leap from the Leucadian cliffLeucas, a small island in the Ionian sea off the west coast of Greece, has chalk cliffs rising sharply from the sea. The leap from this cliff into the sea is used in Anacreon, fr. 376 PMG, as an image of the loss of self-control encountered when one is ‘drunk with love.’ Sappho is said to have leapt from the cliff for the love of Phaon. into the brine, good and drunk with my eyebrows cast down. The man who does not enjoy drinking is mad: in drink one can raise this to a stand, catch a handful of breast and look forward to stroking her boscage, there's dancing and forgetfulness of cares. Shall I not kiss such a drink and tell the bone-head Cyclops—and the eye in the middle of his head, too—to go hang?Exit Silenus into the cave.