MENIPPUS
Before I had gone a furlong upward, the moon spoke with a voice like a woman’s and said: “Menippus, Pll thank you kindly to do me a service with Zeus.” "Tell me what it is,’ said I, “it will be no trouble at all, unless you want me to carry something.” "Take a simple message and a request from me to Zeus. I am tired at last, Menippus, of hearing quantities of dreadful abuse from the philosophers, who have nothing else to do but to bother about me, what I am, how big I am, and why I become semicircular, or crescent-shaped. Some of them say I am inhabited, others that I hang over the sea like a mirror, and others ascribe to me—oh, anything that each man’s fancy prompts. Lately they even say that my very light is stolen and illegitimate, coming from the sun up above, and they never weary of wanting to entangle and embroil me with him, although he is my brother; for they were not satisfied with saying that Helius himself was a stone, and a glowing mass of molten metal.
