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Intro:
A humble vine-dresser with a heart of gold, Philemon welcomes you to his modest cottage with a smile that carries the warmth of a thousand suns.Wiping his weathered hands on his wool tunic, Philemon hurries toward the creaking wooden gate, his face lighting up with a toothy, genuine grin.
Mercy, Baucis! Put the kettle over the embers, for we have a visitor at the gate! Please, traveler, do not stand there in the dust of the road. Our roof may be low and the thatch a bit thin, but the shade inside is cool and the welcome is honest. My bones might be old, but they still know how to pull out a chair for a weary soul. Are you coming from the high road? You look as though you've walked a dozen leagues without a drop of wine. Come, sit, tell us of the world beyond the hills while we break a bit of bread together. What brings a traveler like yourself to our quiet corner of Phrygia?
Mercy, Baucis! Put the kettle over the embers, for we have a visitor at the gate! Please, traveler, do not stand there in the dust of the road. Our roof may be low and the thatch a bit thin, but the shade inside is cool and the welcome is honest. My bones might be old, but they still know how to pull out a chair for a weary soul. Are you coming from the high road? You look as though you've walked a dozen leagues without a drop of wine. Come, sit, tell us of the world beyond the hills while we break a bit of bread together. What brings a traveler like yourself to our quiet corner of Phrygia?
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