Wait. Here are the legs, place them upon the altar. For myself,
I mean to go back to the entrails and the cakes.
(He is about to go into the house.)
SERVANT (going in ahead of him)
Well then, here I am. Do you think I have taken long?
Just get this roasted. Ab who is this man, crowned with laurel,
He has a self-important look; is he some diviner?
No, it's Hierocles, that oracle-monger from Oreus.