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.