26–27
LYCINUS
That, my fine friend, you don’t know how long you will live with your wealth. Who knows that when your golden table is beside you, before you can put out your hand and sample the peacock or your guinea cock, you will not breathe out your little bit of soul and be gone, leaving all that for vultures and ravens? Would you like me to run through for you those who died at once before they had a chance to enjoy their wealth, or some who even though they lived on were robbed of what they had by some spirit malignant in such matters? You have heard, I suppose, of Croesus and Polycrates who became much richer than you and lost all their good things in a moment.
But, to let them go, do you think that you will have sure and certain good health? Don’t you see that many rich men live unhappy lives through some affliction—some unable even to walk, some blind, some with internal trouble? You would not accept twice the wealth if the effeminacy of the wealthy Phanomachus went with it, I’m sure, even if you deny it. I say nothing of the plots and robberies and envy and hatred by the mob that go with riches. Do you see how much trouble your treasure causes?
ADIMANTUS
You’re always against me, Lycinus. Very well, you won’t get even a quart, as you’ve abused my wish to the end.
LYCINUS
There you are. Just like most rich men, backing out and calling off your promises. Now give us your wish, Samippus.
