O God, the Senators of Athens

The gods require our thanks. Sprinkle our society with thankfulness for your own gifts. Make yourselves praised but reserve still to give, lest your deities be despised. If there sit 12 women at the table, let a dozen of them be as they are. Uncover dogs and lap it. What you mean? I know not. And so i do conceive each man to his with that spur as he would to the lip of his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it. To let the meat cool ere, we can agree upon the first place. Sit. The gods need our thanks.