I only wish my master had shared some of his riches with me before he died. The Lord of Syracuse gave him a fortune for his clever machines. I got nothing–though sometimes I think I helped create those inventions.
Still, as Aesop said, “You may share the work of the great, but you will not share the rewards.”
And here’s another thought: master Archimedes’ reward was a sword in the head. So maybe I can’t complain too much.
It was such a pity though. All those fine lion brains that spilled out onto the dusty grass. His circles were disturbed … and the killing spoiled my fine flowers, too.
Such a pity.