Like that old disaster;
     He feeds upon our flesh and blood, and we
       Can no longer labor;
     For it was ever thus the AEtolian thief
       Preyed upon his neighbor;
     Him punish Thou, or, if not Thou, then send
       Oedipus to harm him,
     Who’ll cast this Sphinx down from his cliff of pride,
       Or to stone will charm him.”

The Swallow song, which is cited, is an example of the folk-lore and old customs which Athenaeus delighted to gather; and he tells how in springtime the children used to go about from door to door, begging doles and presents, and singing such half-sensible, half-foolish rhymes as—­

     “She is here, she is here, the swallow! 
     Fair seasons bringing, fair years to follow! 
               Her belly is white,
               Her back black as night! 
               From your rich house
               Roll forth to us
               Tarts, wine, and cheese;
               Or, if not these,
               Oatmeal and barley-cake
               The swallow deigns to take. 
     What shall we have? or must we hence away! 
     Thanks, if you give:  if not, we’ll make you pay! 
          The house-door hence we’ll carry;
          Nor shall the lintel tarry;
     From hearth and home your wife we’ll rob;
               She is so small,
       To take her off will be an easy job! 
       Whate’er you give, give largess free! 
       Up! open, open, to the swallow’s call! 
       No grave old men, but merry children we!”

The ‘Feast of the Learned’ professes to be the record of the sayings at a banquet given at Rome by Laurentius to his learned friends.  Laurentius stands as the typical Maecenas of the period.  The dialogue is reported after Plato’s method, or as we see it in the more familiar form of the ‘Satires’ of Horace, though lacking the pithy vigor of these models.  The discursiveness with which topics succeed each other, their want of logic or continuity, and the pelting fire of quotations in prose and verse, make a strange mixture.  It may be compared to one of those dishes known both to ancients and to moderns, in which a great variety of scraps is enriched with condiments to the obliteration of all individual flavor.  The plan of execution is so cumbersome that its only defense is its imitation of the inevitably disjointed talk when the guests of a dinner party are busy with their wine and nuts.  One is tempted to suspect Athenaeus of a sly sarcasm at his own expense, when he puts the following flings at pedantry in the mouths of some of his puppets:—­

     “And now when Myrtilus had said all this in a connected
     statement, and when all were marveling at his memory,
     Cynulcus said,—­

     ’Your multifarious learning I do wonder at,
     Though there is not a thing more vain and useless.’