"The loaf's in cut; pray spare a slice for me."
But if in peace the raven would have fed,
He'd have had less of clawing, more of bread.
A poor companion whom his friend takes down
To fair Surrentum or Brundisium's town,
If he makes much of cold, bad roads, and rain,
Or moans o'er cash-box forced and money ta'en,
Reminds us of a girl, some artful thing,
Who cries for a lost bracelet or a ring,
With this result, that when she comes to grieve
For real misfortunes, no one will believe.
So, hoaxed by one impostor, in the street
A man won't set a cripple on his feet,
Though he invoke Osiris, and appeal
With streaming tears to hearts that will not feel,
"Lift up a poor lame man! I tell no lie;"
"Treat foreigners to that," the neighbours cry.
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XVIII. To Lollius.
Si bene te novi.
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OU'D blush, good Lollius, if I judge you right,
To mix the parts of friend and parasite.
'Twixt parasite and friend a gulf is placed,
Wide as between the wanton and the chaste;
