You have bought a brass hot-water urn, Heliodorus, that is chillier than the north wind about Thrace; do not blow, do not labour, you but raise smoke in vain; it is a brass wine-cooler you have bought against summer. XXXVIII THE WOODEN HORSE LUCILIUS You have a Thessalian horse, Erasistratus, but the drugs of all Thessaly cannot make him go; the real wooden horse, that if Trojans and Greeks had all pulled together, would never have entered at the Scaean gate; set it up as an offering to some god, if you take my advice, and make gruel for your little children with its barley. XXXIX A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE LUCILIUS Antiochus once set eyes on Lysimachus' cushion, and Lysimachus never set eyes on his cushion again. XL CINYRAS THE CILICIAN DEMODOCUS All Cilicians are bad men; among the Cilicians there is one good man, Cinyras, and Cinyras is a Cilician. XLI A GENERATION OF VIPERS AUTHOR UNKNOWN Keep clear of a cobra, a toad, a viper, and the Laodiceans; also of a mad dog, and of the Laodiceans once again. XLII THE LIFEBOAT NICARCHUS Philo had a boat, the Salvation, but not Zeus himself, I believe, can be safe in her; for she was salvation in name only, and those who got on board her used either to go aground or to go underground. XLIII THE MISER AND THE MOUSE LUCILIUS Asclepiades the miser saw a mouse in his house, and said, "What do you want with me, my very dear mouse?" and the mouse, smiling sweetly, replied, "Do not be afraid, my friend; we do not ask board from you, only lodging." XLIV THE FRUITS OF PHILOSOPHY LUCIAN We saw at dinner the great wisdom of that sturdy beggar the Cynic with the long beard; for at first he abstained from lupines and radishes, saying that Virtue ought not to be a slave to the belly; but when he saw a snowy womb dressed with sharp sauce before his eyes, which at once stole away his sagacious intellect, he unexpectedly asked for it, and ate of it heartily, observing that an entrée could not harm Virtue. XLV VEGETARIANISM AUTHOR UNKNOWN You were not alone in keeping your hands off live things; we do so too; who touches live food, Pythagoras? but we eat what has been boiled and roasted and pickled, and there is no life in it then.