We want it no more than you, who, when the coffer is full, bury it or hide it with the rest.

Apollodorus forced a whole talent of the yellow curse upon me for painting his men's room.

The sailor's cap, into which I tossed it with the rest, will burst when Seleukus pays me for the portrait of his daughter; and if a thief robs you, and me too, we need not fret over it.

My brush and your stylus will earn us more in no time.

And what are our needs?
We do not bet on quail-fights; we do not run races; I always had a loathing for purchased love; we do not want to wear a heap of garments bought merely because they take our fancy--indeed, I am too hot as it is under this scorching sun.