Book VI, 307

Evueetues of Lapithe cast away with scorn his mirror, his sheet that loves hair, a fragment of his shaving-bowl, his reed scraper, his scissors that have deserted their work, and his pointed nail-file. He cast away, too, his scissors, razors, and barber’s chair, and leaving his shop ran prancing off to Epicurus to be a garden-student. There he listened as a donkey listens to the lyre, and he would have died of hunger if he had not thought better of it and run home.