Someone who dives for sponges. Someone who lives off of others' generosity. A parasite.
"And of all the deeds which win praise, isn't war the seed and source? But what is more foolish than to embark on a struggle of this kind for some reason or other when it does more harm than good to either side? For those who fall in battle, like the men of Megara, are 'of no acount'. When the mail-clad ranks confront each other and the trumptets 'blare out their harsh note', what use, I ask you, are those wise men who are worn out with their studies and can scarcely draw breath now their blood is thin and cold? The need is for stout and sturdy fellows with all the daring possible and the minimum of brain. Of course some may prefer a soldier like Demonsthenes, who took Archilochus' advice and had scarcely glimpsed the enemy before he threw away his shield and fled, as cowardly in battle as he was skilled in speechmaking. People say that judgment matters most in war, and so it does for a general, I agree, but it's a soldier's judgment, not a philosopher's. Otherwise it's the spongers, pimps, robbers, murderers, peasants, morons, debtors, and that sort of scum of the earth who provide the glories of war, not the philosophers and their midnight oil."
Erasmus, Praise of Folly (1509)
[translated by Betty Radice, notes by A. H. T. Levi (1993)].
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