Lucian Philopseudes sive incredulus 19

[19] “Yes,” I said, “I saw one to the right of the spout, wearing fillets and withered wreaths, his breast covered with gilt leaves.” “I myself puton the gilt leaves,’ said Eucrates, “when he cured me of the ague that was torturing me to death every other day.” “Really, is our excellent Pellichus a doctor also?” said I. “Do not mock,” Eucrates replied, “or before long the man will punish you. I know what virtue there is in this statue that you make fun of. Don’t you suppose that he can send fevers upon whomsoever he will, since it is possible for him to send them away?” “May the manikin be gracious and kindly,” said I, “since he is so manful. But what else does everyone in the house see him doing?”

“As soon as night comes,” he said, “he gets down from the pedestal on which he stands and goes all about the house; we all encounter him, sometimes singing, and he has never harmed anybody. One has but to turn aside, and he passes without molesting in any way those who saw him. Upon my word, he often takes baths and disports himself all night, so that the water can be heard splashing.” “See here, then,” said I, “perhaps the statue is not Pellichus but Talos the Cretan, the son of Minos; he was a bronze man, you know, and made the rounds in Crete. If he were made of wood instead of bronze, there would be nothing to hinder his being one of the devices of Daedalus instead of a work of Demetrius; anyhow, he is like them in playing truant from his pedestal, by what you say.”

[19] ‘Ah, to be sure, I have seen it,’ I replied; ‘it is to the right of the Cronus; the head is crowned with fillets and withered garlands, and the breast gilded.’ ‘Yes, I had that done, when he cured me of the tertian ague; I had been at Death’s door with it” ‘Bravo, Pelichus!’ I exclaimed; ‘so he was a doctor too?' 'Not was, but is. Beware of trifling with him, or he may pay you a visit before long. Well do I know what virtue is in that statue with which you make so merry. Can you doubt that he who cures the ague may also inflict it at will?’ ‘I implore his favour,’ I cried; ‘may he be as merciful as he is mighty! And what are his other doings, to which all your household are witnesses?’ ‘At nightfall,’ said Eucrates, ‘he descends from his pedestal, and walks all round the house; one or other of us is continually meeting with him; sometimes he is singing. He has never done any harm to any one: all we have to do when we see him is to step aside, and he passes on his way without molesting us. He is fond of taking a bath; you may hear him splashing about in the water all night long.’ ‘Perhaps,’ I suggested, ‘it is not Pelichus at all, but Talos the Cretan, the son of Minos? He was of bronze, and used to walk all round the island. Or if only he were made of wood instead of bronze,- he might quite well be one of Daedalus’s ingenious mechanisms—you say he plays truant from his pedestal just like them—and not the work of Demetrius at all.’