Ἄστηθι, δούλη Ψύλλα· μέχρι τέο κείσῃ
ρέγχουσα; τὴν δὲ χοῖρον αὐονὴ δρύπτει·
ἢ προσμένεις σὺ μέχρις εὖ ἤλιος θάλψῃ
τὸ]ν̣ κ̣ῦσον ἐσδύς; κῶς δ’, ἄτρυτε, κοὐ κάμνεις
τὰ πλ]ευρὰ κνώσσουσ’; αἰ δὲ νύκτες ἐννέωροι.
ἄστη]θ̣ι, φημί, καὶ ἄψον, εἰ θέλεις, λύχνον,
καὶ τ]ὴν ἄναυλον χοῖρον ἐς νομὴν πέμψ[ο]ν̣.
τ]ό̣ν̣θρυζε καὶ κνῶ, μέχρις εὖ παραστά[ς σοι
τὸ] βρέγμα τῷ σκίπωνι μαλθακὸν θῶμα[ι.
(Herodas, Mim. 8.1-9)
Get up, slave Psylla: how long are you going to lie snoring? Drought is rending the sow. Or are you waiting till the sun crawls into [your] bum and warms it? Unwearied one, how have you avoided tiring [your] ribs with sleeping? The night is nine hours gone. [Get up], I say, and light the lamp, please, [and] send the unmelodious sow to the pasture. Mutter and scratch yourself until I stand beside [you] and make [your] head soft with my stick. (tr. I.C. Cunningham)