70. But concerning these griphi, Antiphanes says, in his Cnoethis, or the Pot-bellied Man— _A._ I thought before that those who while at meals Bade me solve griphi, were the silliest triflers, Talking mere nonsense. And when any one Was bade to say what a man bore and bore not, I laugh'd and thought it utter childishness; And did not think that truth did lie beneath, But reckon'd them as traps for the unwary. But now, indeed, I see there is some truth in them; For we, ten men, contribute now for supper, But no one of them all bears what he brings, So here's a case where he who bears bears not, And this is just the meaning of a griphus. So surely this may fairly be excused; But others play tricks with the things themselves, Paying no money, as, for instance, Philip. _B._ A wise and fortunate man, by Jove, is he. And in his Aphrodisian he says— [Sidenote: ΓΡΙΦΟΙ.] _A._ Suppose I want to say now "dish" to you, Shall I say "dish," or shall I rather say, A hollow-bodied vessel, made of earth, Form'd by the potter's wheel in rapid swing, Baked in another mansion of its mother, Which holds within its net the tender milk-fed Offspring of new-born flocks untimely choked? _B._ By Hercules, you'll kill me straight if you Do not in plain words say a "dish of meat." _A._ 'Tis well. And shall I speak to you of drops Flowing from bleating goats, and well compounded With streams proceeding from the yellow bee, Sitting on a broad receptacle provided By the chaste virgin born of holy Ceres, And now luxuriating beneath a host Of countless finely-wrought integuments; Or shall I say "a cheesecake?" _B._ Prithee say A cheesecake. _A._ Shall I speak of rosy sweat From Bacchic spring? _B._ I'd rather you'd say wine. _A._ Or shall I speak of dusky dewy drops? _B._ No such long paraphrase,—say plainly, water. _A._ Or shall I praise the cassia-breathing fragrance That scents the air? _B._ No, call it myrrh,—forbear Those sad long-winded sentences, those long And roundabout periphrases; it seems To me by far too great a labour thus To dwell on matters which are small themselves, And only great in such immense descriptions. 71. And Alexis, in his Sleep, proposes a griphus of this kind—