(28.) Let Ergastus alone, and he will demand a duty from all who drink some water from the river or who walk on _terra firma_; he knows how to convert reeds, rushes, and nettles into gold;[286] he listens to all projects, and proposes everything he hears. The prince gives nothing to any one but at Ergastusʼ expense, and bestows no favours but what are his due, for his desire to have and to possess is never appeased. He would even deal in arts and sciences, and farm out harmony; were his advice to be taken, the people, for the pleasure of seeing him wealthy, and with a pack of hounds and a stable, would forget the music of Orpheus and be satisfied with his. (29.) Have no dealings with Crito,[287] who only looks after his own advantages; the snare is always ready spread for those who wish to acquire his office, his estate, or anything he possesses, for his conditions will be exorbitant. There is no consideration or arrangement to be expected from one so wrapt up in his own interest and so inimical to yours; he will always take a man in if he can. (30.) Brontin,[288] according to common report, retires from the busy world, and during a whole week sees none but priests; they enjoy their meditations, and he enjoys his. (31.) The people very often have the pleasure of seeing a tragedy acted, and of beholding expire on the worldʼs stage the most hateful personages, who did as much harm as they could whenever they appeared, and whom they heartily detested. (32.) If we divide the lives of the P.T.S.[289] into two parts, the first, brisk and active, is wholly occupied in trying to oppress the people, and the second, bordering on death, is spent in betraying and ruining one another. (33.) The man[290] who made your fortune and that of several others was unable to keep his own, or secure a maintenance for his wife and children after his death; they live in obscurity and in wretchedness. You are informed of their miserable condition, but you do not think of alleviating it; indeed you cannot do so, for you give a good many dinners, you build a good deal; but out of gratitude you have kept the portrait of your benefactor, which, it is true, has been removed from your own private room to the anteroom. You have at least shown him some respect, for it might have gone to the lumber-room. (34.) There exists a stubbornness of temper, and another of rank and condition, which both harden our hearts against the misfortunes of others, and, I should even say, prevent us from pitying the evils which befall our own family. A true financier grieves neither for the loss of friends, wife, nor children.