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And when Cynulcus had said this, he was on the point of rising up to depart; but turning round and seeing a quantity of fish, and a large provision of all sorts of other eatables being brought in, beating the pillow with his hand, he shouted out,—
Gird thyself up, O poverty, and bear
A little longer with these foolish babblers,
For copious food and hunger sharp subdues thee.
[p. 426] But I now, by reason of my needy condition, do not speak dithyrambic poems, as Socrates says, but even epic poems too. For, reciting poems is very hungry work. For, accord ing to Ameipsias, who said in his Sling, where he utters a prediction about you, O Laurentius,—
There are none of the rich men
In the least like you, by Vulcan,
Who enjoy a dainty table,
And who every day can eat
All delicacies that you wish.
For now, I see a thing beyond belief—
A prodigy; all sorts of kinds of fish
Sporting around this cape-tenches and char,
White and red mullet, rays, and perch, and eels,
Tunnies, and blacktails, and cuttle-fish, and pipe-fish,
And hake, and cod, and lobsters, crabs and scorpions;
as Heniochus says in his Busybody; I must, therefore, as the comic poet Metagenes says—
Without a sign his knife the hungry draws,
And asks no omen but his supper's cause—
endure and listen to what more you have all got to say.

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