Book XII, Epigram 82 (Ker)

To escape Menogenes in the warm baths and about the baths is impossible, try what artifice you will. He will grab the warm hand-ball with right and left, that he may be able often to score to your account the balls he catches.' He picks up and will restore to you the flaccid bladder-ball from the dust, even if he has already bathed, is already in his dinner slippers. If you take your towels, he will speak of them as whiter than snow, although they are dirtier than an infant's bib. While you are arranging with a comb your scanty hairs, he will say these are Achilles' locks that you have ordered. He will with his own hands bring you the dregs from the bottom of the smoky wine-jar, and he wipes the moisture on your brow. Everything he will praise, will admire everything, until, having endured to the end a thousand boredoms, you say "Come and dine."