Coin he may get: whose rust rubbed off, he will not give again.{
But straightway thus he says, "The leg is further than the knee,
Let me have gold enough; the gods to Poets pay their fee!"
Who would another hear, "Enough for all, one Homer is;
Of poets he is Prince: yet gets he nought of me iwis!"
Madmen, what gain is this, to hoard up bags of gold within?
This is not money's use, nor hath to wise men ever been!
But part is due unto ourselves, part to the Poet's pen;
And many kinsfolk must be pleasured, and many men:
And often to the gods thou must do solemn sacrifice.