Alciphron, Letters of Parasites 3.40
“I had never before endured a storm like this in Attica. The winds came blowing in from every angle, striking more like series of attacks rather than one onslaught. The snow was already thick and piling in drifts, first covering the ground and then rising so high that it made a blanket so deep that it was barely possible to open the door and look into the street. I didn’t have enough wood or a wool cloak. How could I? Where would I get them? The sharp cold was seeping into my marrow and my bones. So, I made myself an Odyssean plan to run to the bath chambers or their ovens.”
Οὐπώποτε ἐγὼ κατὰ τὴν Ἀττικὴν ὑπέμεινα τοιοῦτον χειμῶνα. οὐ γὰρ μόνον ἐκ παραλλήλου φυσῶντες, μᾶλλον δὲ σύρδην φερόμενοι κατεκτύπουν ἡμῶν οἱ ἄνεμοι, ἀλλ᾿ ἤδη καὶ χιὼν πυκνὴ καὶ ἐπάλληλος φερομένη πρῶτον μὲν τοὔδαφος ἐκάλυπτεν, ἔπειτα οὐκ ἐπιπολῆς ἀλλ᾿ εἰς ὕψος ᾔρετο τῆς νιφάδος χῦμα πάμπολυ, ὡς ἀγαπητὸν εἶναι τὸ θύριον ἀνοίξαντα τῆς οἰκίας τὸν στενωπὸν ἰδεῖν. ἐμοὶ δὲ οὔτε ξύλον οὔτε ἄβολος παρῆν. πῶς γὰρ ἢ πόθεν; ὁ κρυμὸς δὲ εἰσεδύετο λεπτὸς μέχρι μυελῶν αὐτῶν καὶ ὀστέων. ἐβουλευσάμην οὖν Ὀδύσσειον βούλευμα δραμεῖν εἰς τὰς θόλους ἢ τὰς καμίνους τῶν βαλανείων.
