Martial: EPIGRAMMATON LIBRI

Hoc tibi quidquid id est longinquis mittit ab oris
     Gallia Romanae nomine dicta togae.
Hunc legis et laudas librum fortasse priorem:
     illa uel haec mea sunt, quae meliora putas.
Plus sane placeat domina qui natus in urbe est:              5
     debet enim Gallum uincere uerna liber.

This, whatever it is, is sent to you from far-off shores
     by Gaul, called by the name of the Roman toga.
You read and perhaps praise the prior book:
     those or these are mine, whichever you think better.
By all means let the one born in the mistress-city please more:              5
     for a homeborn book ought to conquer a Gallic one.

Cuius uis fieri, libelle, munus?
Festina tibi uindicem parare,
ne nigram cito raptus in culinam
cordylas madida tegas papyro
uel turis piperisue sis cucullus. 5
Faustini fugis in sinum? sapisti.

Whose gift do you wish to be made, little book?
Make haste to prepare an avenger for yourself,
lest, snatched quickly into the black kitchen,
you cover mackerels with soaked papyrus,
or be a hood for frankincense or pepper. 5
Do you flee into Faustinus’s bosom? You have been wise.

Cedro nunc licet ambules perunctus
et frontis gemino decens honore
pictis luxurieris umbilicis,
et te purpura delicata uelet, 10
et cocco rubeat superbus index.
illo uindice nec Probum timeto.

Now you may walk anointed with cedar,
and, comely with the twin honor of the brow,
you may luxuriate in painted umbilici,
and let delicate purple veil you, 10
and let the proud index blush red with scarlet.
with that avenger, do not fear Probus.

Formonsam faciem nigro medicamine celas,
sed non formonso corpore laedis aquas.
Ipsam crede deam uerbis tibi dicere nostris:
"Aut aperi faciem, aut tu tunicata laua."

You hide a beautiful face with black medicament,
but with your not-beautiful body you harm the waters.
Believe that the goddess herself tells you in our words:
"Either uncover your face, or bathe tunic-clad."

Romam uade, liber: si, ueneris unde, requiret,
     Aemiliae dices de regione uiae;
si, quibus in terris, qua simus in urbe, rogabit,
     Corneli referas me licet esse Foro.
Cur absim, quaeret; breuiter tu multa fatere:              5
     "Non poterat uanae taedia ferre togae."
"Quando uenit?" dicet; tu respondeto: "Poeta
     exierat: ueniet, cum citharoedus erit."

Go to Rome, little book: if he asks whence you have come,
     you will say from the region of the Aemilian Way;
if he asks in what lands, in what city we are,
     you may report that I am at Forum Cornelii.
Why I am absent, he will ask; briefly you confess much:              5
     "He could not bear the tedium of the vain toga."
"When does he come?" he will say; you must answer: "The poet
     had gone out: he will come, when he is a citharoedus."

Vis commendari sine me cursurus in urbem,
parue liber, multis? An satis unus erit?
Vnus erit, mihi crede, satis, cui non eris hospes,
Iulius, adsiduum nomen in ore meo.

Do you wish to be recommended, without me, as you are going to run into the city,
little book, to many? Or will one be enough?
One will be, believe me, enough, for whom you will not be a host-stranger,
Julius, a constant name on my lips.

Protinus hunc primae quaeres in limine Tectae:              5
     quos tenuit Daphnis, nunc tenet ille lares.
Est illi coniunx, quae te manibusque sinuque
     excipiet, tu uel puluerulentus eas.
Hos tu seu pariter siue hanc illumue priorem
     uideris, hoc dices "Marcus hauere iubet",              10
et satis est.

At once you will seek him at the threshold of the First Tecta:              5
     the Lares which Daphnis held, he now holds.
He has a spouse, who will receive you with her hands and with her bosom;
     go as you are, even dusty.
Whether you see them both together or this one or that one first,
     you will say this: "Marcus bids you ‘hail’",              10
and that is enough.

Alios commendet epistola: peccat
qui commendandum se putat esse suis.

Let an epistle commend others: he errs
who thinks that he should be commended to his own.

Lux tibi post Idus numeratur tertia Maias,
     Marcelline, tuis bis celebranda sacris.
Imputat aetherios ortus haec prima parenti,
     libat florentes haec tibi prima genas.
Magna licet dederit iucundae munera uitae,              5
     plus numquam patri praestitit ille dies.

Your light is counted the third day after the Ides of May,
     Marcelline, to be twice celebrated with your sacred rites.
This first day ascribes the aetherial birth to the parent,
     this first day for you lightly touches your blooming cheeks.
Although it has given great gifts to a jocund life,              5
     never did that day bestow more upon the father.

Centum miselli iam ualete quadrantes,
anteambulonis congiarium lassi,
quos diuidebat balneator elixus.
Quid cogitatis, o fames amicorum?
Regis superbi sportulae recesserunt. 5
"Nihil stropharum est: iam salarium dandum est."

Now farewell, poor hundred quadrantes,
the congiary of the anteambulo, you weary ones,
which the boiled bath-keeper used to dole out.
What are you thinking, O hunger of friends?
The sportulae of the haughty king have withdrawn. 5
“There are no stratagems now: a salary must be given.”

"Thaida Quintus amat." "Quam Thaida?" "Thaida luscam."
Vnum oculum Thais non habet, ille duos.

"Quintus loves Thais." "Which Thais?" "Thais the one-eyed."
Thais lacks one eye; he, two.

Versiculos in me narratur scribere Cinna:
Non scribit, cuius carmina nemo legit.

It is reported that Cinna writes little verses against me;
he does not write, whose poems no one reads.

Constituit, Philomuse, pater tibi milia bina
     menstrua perque omnis praestitit illa dies,
luxuriam premeret cum crastina semper egestas
     et uitiis essent danda diurna tuis.
Idem te moriens heredem ex asse reliquit:              5
     exheredauit te, Philomuse, pater.

Your father, Philomuse, fixed for you two thousands monthly
     and paid those out day by day through all the days,
so that tomorrow’s ever-present need might press down luxury
     and daily rations might be given to your vices.
The same man, dying, left you heir to the whole:              5
     he disinherited you, Philomuse, your father.

Si tua Thais nec lusca est, Quinte, puella,
cur in te factum distichon esse putas? ‹
Sed simile est aliquid. ‹ Pro Laide Thaida dixi?

If your girl Thais is not one-eyed, Quintus,
why do you think the distich was made about you? ‹
But there is something similar. ‹ Did I say Thais in place of Laïs?

     Dic mihi, quid simile est Thais et Hermione?
Tu tamen es Quintus: mutemus nomen amantis:              5
     si non uolt Quintus, Thaida Sextus amet.

     Tell me, what is similar between Thais and Hermione?
You, however, are Quintus: let us change the lover’s name:              5
     if Quintus does not wish it, let Sextus love Thais.

Vnguentum, fateor, bonum dedisti
conuiuis here, sed nihil scidisti.
Res salsa est bene olere et esurire.
qui non cenat et unguitur, Fabulle,
hic uere mihi mortuus uidetur. 5

Unguent, I confess, you gave good to the guests yesterday;
but you carved nothing.
A “salty” affair, to smell well and to be hungry.
he who does not dine and is anointed, Fabullus,
this man truly seems to me dead. 5

Dum non uis pisces, dum non uis carpere pullos
et plus quam putri, Naeuia, parcis apro,
accusas rumpisque cocum, tamquam omnia cruda
attulerit. Numquam sic ego crudus ero.

While you do not want fish, while you do not want to carve chickens,
and, Naevia, you spare the boar beyond the point of rot,
you accuse and you break the cook, as though he had brought everything raw.
Never shall I be raw in that way.

Romam petebat esuritor Tuccius
profectus ex Hispania.
Occurrit illi sportularum fabula:
a ponte rediit Muluio

Tuccius the ever-hungry was making for Rome
having set out from Spain.
The tale of the sportulae met him:
he turned back from the Milvian Bridge

Plus credit nemo tota quam Cordus in urbe.
"Cum sit tam pauper, quomodo?"Caecus amat.

No one gives more credit in the whole city than Cordus.
"Since he is so poor, how?" A blind man loves.

Das gladiatores, sutorum regule, Cerdo,
     quodque tibi tribuit subula, sica rapit.
Ebrius es: neque enim faceres hoc sobrius umquam,
     ut uelles corio ludere, Cerdo, tuo.
Lusisti corio: sed te, mihi crede, memento              5
     nunc in pellicula, Cerdo, tenere tua.

You give gladiators, little king of cobblers, Cerdo,
     and what the awl has bestowed on you, the dagger snatches.
You are drunk: for you would never do this sober,
     that you would want to play with your own hide, Cerdo.
You have played with your hide: but, believe me, remember              5
     now to keep yourself in your little skin, Cerdo.

Circumlata diu mensis scribilita secundis
     urebat nimio saeua calore manus;
sed magis ardebat Sabidi gula: protinus ergo
     sufflauit buccis terque quaterque suis.
Illa quidem tepuit digitosque admittere uisa est,              5
     sed nemo potuit tangere: merda fuit.

The cheesecake, long carried around at the second tables,
     was burning the hands with too savage heat;
but Sabidius’s gullet was burning more: straightway therefore
     he blew upon it with his cheeks three and four times.
It indeed grew tepid and seemed to allow fingers,              5
     but no one could touch it: it was shit.

Perfrixisse tuas questa est praefatio fauces:
cum te excusaris, Maxime, quid recitas?

The preface complained that your throat had been frost-bitten:
since you have excused yourself, Maximus, why do you recite?

Proxima centenis ostenditur ursa columnis,
     exornant fictae qua platanona ferae.
Huius dum patulos adludens temptat hiatus
     pulcher Hylas, teneram mersit in ora manum:
uipera sed caeco scelerata latebat in aere              5
     uiuebatque anima dereriore fera.
Non sensit puer esse dolos, nisi dente recepto
     dum perit.

Next, a she-bear is displayed by a hundred columns,
     where feigned beasts embellish the plane-grove.
While fair Hylas, playing, tests this one’s gaping jaws,
     he plunged his tender hand into the mouth:
but a viper, wicked, was lurking within the blind bronze,              5
     and the beast lived with a baser soul.
The boy did not sense there were deceits, until, after receiving the tooth,
     he perished.

O facinus, falsa quod ursa fuit!

O outrage, that the bear was false!

Dic, Musa, quid agat Canius meus Rufus:
utrumque chartis tradit ille uicturis
legenda temporum acta Claudianorum,
an quae Neroni falsus adstruit scriptor?
An aemulatur inprobi iocos Phaedri? 5
Lasciuus elegis an seuerus herois?
An in cothurnis horridus Sophocleis?

Tell, Muse, what my Canius Rufus is doing:
does he commit to pages destined to live
the to-be-read acts of Claudian times,
or those which a false writer ascribes to Nero?
Or does he emulate the jests of shameless Phaedrus? 5
Wanton in elegiacs or austere in heroics?
Or grim in Sophoclean buskins?

An otiosus in schola poetarum
lepore tinctos Attico sales narrat?
Hinc si recessit, porticum terit templi 10
an spatia carpit lentus Argonautarum?
An delicatae sole rursus Europae
inter tepentes post meridiem buxos
sedet ambulatue liber acribus curis?

Or, idle in the school of poets,
does he relate sallies tinged with Attic grace?
If he has withdrawn from here, does he wear down the temple’s portico 10
or, unhurried, does he traverse the walks of the Argonauts?
Or in the sun of delicate Europe again,
among the tepid box-trees after midday,
does he sit or walk, free from sharp cares?

Titine thermis an lauatur Agrippae 15

At Titus’s baths, or is he bathed at Agrippa’s? 15

an inpudici balneo Tigillini?
an rure Tulli fruitur atque Lucani?
An Pollionis dulce currit ad quartum?

or at the bath of shameless Tigellinus?
or does he enjoy the countryside of Tullus and of Lucanus?
Or does he sweetly run to Pollio’s Fourth Milestone?

an aestuantis iam profectus ad Baias
piger Lucrino nauculatur in stagno? 20
"Vis scire quid agat Canius tuus? Ridet."

or, already having set out for the sweltering Baiae,
does the sluggard boat about on the Lucrine lagoon? 20
"Do you wish to know what your Canius is doing? He is laughing."

Proscriptum famulus seruauit fronte notatus:
non fuit haec domini uita, sed inuidia.

A proscription the servant, marked on the forehead, kept:
this was not the life of the master, but envy.

Dederas, Apici, bis trecenties uentri,
sed adhuc supererat centies tibi laxum.
Hoc tu grauatus ut famem et sitim ferres,
summa uenenum potione perduxti.
Nihil est, Apici, tibi gulosius factum. 5

You had given, Apicius, 60 million to your belly,
but there still remained to you a slack of 10 million.
This, weighed down that you would have to bear hunger and thirst,
you brought yourself to an end with a final draught of poison.
Nothing, Apicius, has been done more gluttonous for you. 5

Omnia cum retro pueris obsonia tradas,
cur non mensa tibi ponitur a pedibus?

Since you hand all the dishes back to the boys behind you,
why is the table not set at your feet?

Vite nocens rosa stabat moriturus ad aras
     hircus, Bacche, tuis uictima grata focis;
quem Tuscus mactare deo cum uellet aruspex,
     dixerat agresti forte rudique uiro
ut cito testiculos et acuta falce secaret,              5
     taeter ut inmundae carnis abiret odor.
Ipse super uirides aras luctantia pronus
     dum resecat cultro colla premitque manu,
ingens iratis apparuit hirnea sacris.
     Occupat hanc ferro rusticus atque secat,              10
hoc ratus antiquos sacrorum poscere ritus
     talibus et fibris numina prisca coli.

Harmful to the vine, rose-garlanded, there stood at the altars
     the he-goat, Bacchus, a victim pleasing to your hearths;
when a Tuscan haruspex wished to sacrifice him to the god,
     he had told by chance a rustic and unskilled man
to cut off quickly the testicles with a sharp sickle,              5
     so that the foul stench of unclean flesh might depart.
He himself, bending over the green altars, while he cuts away
     the struggling neck with a knife and presses it with his hand,
a huge hernia appeared to the angered rites.
     The rustic seizes this with the blade and cuts it,              10
thinking that the ancient rites of sacrifices require this
     and that the ancient numina are worshiped with such entrails.

Sic, modo qui Tuscus fueras, nunc Gallus aruspex,
dum iugulas hircum, factus es ipse caper.

Thus, you who just now had been Tuscan, now a Gallic haruspex,
while you jugulate the he-goat, you yourself have been made a goat.

Si temperari balneum cupis feruens,
Faustine, quod uix Iulianus intraret,
roga lauetur rhetorem Sabineium:
Neronianas is refrigerat thermas.

If you wish the fervent bath to be tempered,
Faustine, which Iulianus would scarcely enter,
ask that the rhetor Sabineius bathe:
he cools the Neronian baths.

Praedia solus habes et solus, Candide, nummos,
     aurea solus habes, murrina solus habes,
Massica solus habes et Opimi Caecuba solus,
     et cor solus habes, solus et ingenium.
Omnia solus habes ‹ nec me puta uelle negare ‹              5
     uxorem sed habes, Candide, cum populo.

You alone have estates, and alone, Candide, money,
     you alone have gold, you alone have murrhine ware,
you alone have Massic wine and alone Opimius’ Caecuban,
     and you alone have heart, and alone also ingenuity.
You alone have everything ‹ do not think me willing to deny it ‹              5
     but you have your wife, Candide, in common with the people.

Numquam me reuocas, uenias cum saepe uocatus:
ignosco, nullum si modo, Galle, uocas.
Inuitas alios: uitium est utriusque. "Quod?" inquis.

You never call me back, though you come often when called:
I forgive it, if only, Gallus, you call no one.
You invite others: it is a fault of both. "What?" you ask.

Et mihi cor non est et tibi, Galle, pudor.

And I have no heart, and you, Galle, no modesty.

Auriculam Mario grauiter miraris olere.
Tu facis hoc: garris, Nestor, in auriculam.

You marvel that Marius’s ear reeks.
You cause this: you chatter, Nestor, into his ear.

Has cum gemina compede dedicat catenas,
Saturne, tibi Zoilus, anulos priores.

These chains, together with the twin fetter, Zoilus dedicates to you, Saturn,
his former rings.

Sportula nulla datur; gratis conuiua recumbis:
dic mihi, quid Romae, Gargiliane, facis?
Vnde tibi togula est et fuscae pensio cellae?
unde datur quadrans?

No sportula is given; you recline gratis as a guest:
tell me, what are you doing in Rome, Gargiliane?
Whence for you the little toga and the rent of a dusky cell?
whence is the quadrans given?

unde uir es Chiones?
Cum ratione licet dicas te uiuere summa, 5
quod uiuis, nulla cum ratione facis.

How are you a man, Chiones?
Though you may claim you live by the highest reason, 5
the fact that you live you do with no reason at all.

Sunt tibi, confiteor, diffusi iugera campi,
     urbanique tenent praedia multa lares,
et seruit dominae numerosus debitor arcae,
     sustentatque tuas aurea massa dapes.
Fastidire tamen noli, Rufine, minores:              5
     plus habuit Didymos, plus Philomelus habet.

I confess, you have acres of spreading field,
     and urban lares hold many estates,
and a numerous roster of debtors serves your mistress coffer,
     and a golden mass sustains your banquets.
Nevertheless, Rufinus, do not disdain your inferiors:              5
     Didymos had more, Philomelus has more.

An possim uetulam quaeris, Matrinia: possum
et uetulam, sed tu mortua, non uetula es:
possum Hecubam, possum Niobam, Matrinia, sed si
nondum erit illa canis, nondum erit illa lapis.

Do you ask whether I can manage an old woman, Matrinia? I can,
even an old woman; but you are dead, not old:
I can Hecuba, I can Niobe, Matrinia, but only if
she is not yet a dog, she is not yet stone.

Ingenuam malo, sed si tamen illa negetur,
libertina mihi proxuma condicio est.
Extremo est ancilla loco: sed uincet utramque,
si facie nobis haec erit ingenua.

I prefer a freeborn woman, but if that, however, be denied,
a freedwoman is for me the next-best condition.
A slave-girl is in the lowest place; but she will conquer both,
if in face this one will be freeborn for us.

Digna tuo cur sis indignaque nomine, dicam.
Frigida es et nigra es: non es et es Chione.

I will say why you are worthy and unworthy of your name.
You are frigid and you are black: you are not, and you are, Chione.

Artis Phidiacae toreuma clarum
pisces aspicis: adde aquam, natabunt.

You behold a renowned toreutic relief of Phidian art—fish:
add water, and they will swim.

Quod nouus et nuper factus tibi praestat amicus,
     hoc praestare iubes me, Fabiane, tibi:
horridus ut primo semper te mane salutem
     per mediumque trahat me tua sella lutum,
lassus ut in thermas decuma uel serius hora              5
     te sequar Agrippae, cum lauer ipse Titi.
Hoc per triginta merui, Fabiane, Decembres,
     ut sim tiro tuae semper amicitiae?
Hoc merui, Fabiane, toga tritaque meaque,
     ut nondum credas me meruisse rudem?              10

What a new and newly made friend supplies to you,
     this you order me, Fabian, to supply to you:
that, unkempt, I always greet you at first light,
     and that your chair drags me through the middle of the mud,
weary, that at the tenth or a later hour to the baths              5
     I follow you to Agrippa’s, though I myself bathe at Titus’s.
Have I earned this through thirty Decembers, Fabian,
     that I should be forever a recruit of your friendship?
Have I earned this, Fabian, with my toga worn and my own,
     that you still do not believe I have earned my discharge?              10

Irasci tantum felices nostis amici.
Non belle facitis, sed iuuat hoc: facite.

You, happy friends, know only how to be angry.
You do not do it nicely, but this pleases: do it.

Quae te causa trahit uel quae fiducia Romam,
Sexte? Quid aut speras aut petis inde? Refer.

What cause draws you, or what confidence, to Rome,
Sextus? What do you either hope or seek from there? Relate it.

"Causas" inquis "agam Cicerone disertior ipso
     atque erit in triplici par mihi nemo foro."
Egit Atestinus causas et Ciuis ‹ utrumque              5
     noras ‹; sed neutri pensio tota fuit.
"Si nihil hinc ueniet, pangentur carmina nobis:
     audieris, dices esse Maronis opus."
Insanis: omnes gelidis quicumque lacernis
     sunt tibi, Nasones Vergiliosque uides.              10
"Atria magna colam."Vix tres aut quattuor ista
     res aluit; pallet cetera turba fame.
"Quid faciam?

"You say, 'I shall plead causes, more eloquent than Cicero himself,
     and in the triple forum there will be no equal to me.'"
Atestinus pled causes, and Civis ‹ both of them              5
     you knew ‹; but to neither was the whole fee paid.
"If nothing comes from this, poems shall be hammered out by me:
     you will have heard, you will say it is the work of Maro."
You are insane: everyone—whoever in chilly cloaks—
     are to you Nasos and Vergils in your sight.              10
"I will frequent great atria."Hardly three or four has that
     thing nourished; the rest of the crowd grows pale with hunger.
"What am I to do?

suade: nam certum est uiuere Romae."
Si bonus es, casu uiuere, Sexte, potes.

advise me: for it is resolved to live at Rome."
If you are a good man, you can live by chance, Sextus.

Iliaco similem puerum, Faustine, ministro
lusca Lycoris amat. Quam bene lusca uidet!

Lycoris, one‑eyed, loves a boy like the Iliac cupbearer, Faustinus;
how well the one‑eyed woman sees!

Inserta phialae Mentoris manu ducta
lacerta uiuit et timetur argentum.

Set in a bowl, a lizard, drawn by Mentor’s hand,
lives, and the silver is feared.

Mutua quod nobis ter quinquagena dedisti
ex opibus tantis, quas grauis arca premit,
esse tibi magnus, Telesine, uideris amicus.
Tu magnus, quod das? Immo ego, quod recipis.

Because you have given me a loan of 150
out of such great wealth, which a heavy strongbox presses,
you seem to yourself, Telesinus, to be a great friend.
You great because you give? Rather I, because you accept.

Lomento rugas uteri quod condere temptas,
Polla, tibi uentrem, non mihi labra linis.
Simpliciter pateat uitium fortasse pusillum:
quod tegitur, maius creditur esse malum.

Because you try to conceal the wrinkles of the belly with a cosmetic paste,
Polla, you smear your belly for yourself, not my lips for me.
Let the slight blemish perhaps lie open simply;
what is covered is believed to be a greater evil.

Mentiris iuuenem tinctis, Laetine, capillis,
tam subito coruus, qui modo cycnus eras.
Non omnes fallis; scit te Proserpina canum:
personam capiti detrahet illa tuo.

You lie that you are young with tinted hair, Laetine,
so suddenly a crow, you who just now were a swan.
You do not deceive everyone; Proserpina knows you as gray-haired:
she will strip the mask from your head.

Occurrit tibi nemo quod libenter
quod, quacumque uenis, fuga est et ingens
circa te, Ligurine, solitudo,
quid sit, scire cupis? Nimis poeta es.
Hoc ualde uitium periculosum est. 5
Non tigris catulis citata raptis,
non dipsas medio perusta sole,
nec sic scorpios inprobus timetur.
Nam tantos, rogo, quis ferat labores?

Nobody meets you gladly; because, wherever you come, there is flight and a vast solitude around you, Ligurinus; you wish to know what this is? You are too much a poet. This vice is very perilous. 5
Not even a tigress, roused with her cubs snatched away, not a dipsas scorched by the mid-day sun, nor is the wicked scorpion so feared. For who, I ask, would bear such great labors?

Et stanti legis et legis sedenti, 10
currenti legis et legis cacanti.
In thermas fugio: sonas ad aurem.
Piscinam peto: non licet natare.

And you read to me standing, and you read to me sitting, 10
you read to me running, and you read to me shitting.
I flee to the baths: you sound at my ear.
I seek the pool: it is not permitted to swim.

Ad cenam propero: tenes euntem.
Ad cenam uenio: fugas edentem. 15

To dinner I hasten: you hold me as I am going.
To dinner I come: you drive away the eater. 15

Lassus dormio: suscitas iacentem.
Vis, quantum facias mali, uidere?
Vir iustus, probus, innocens timeris.

Weary, I sleep: you rouse the one lying down.
Do you wish to see how much evil you do?
You, a just, upright, innocent man, are feared.

Fugerit an Phoebus mensas cenamque Thyestae
     ignoro: fugimus nos, Ligurine, tuam.
Illa quidem lauta est dapibusque instructa superbis,
     sed nihil omnino te recitante placet.
Nolo mihi ponas rhombos mullumue bilibrem              5
     nec uolo boletos, ostrea nolo: tace.

Whether Phoebus fled the tables and the dinner of Thyestes
     I do not know: we flee, Ligurinus, yours.
Indeed it is luxurious and furnished with superb dishes,
     but nothing at all pleases when you recite.
I do not want you to set before me turbots or a two‑pound mullet              5
     nor do I want boletes, I do not want oysters: be silent.

Exigis a nobis operam sine fine togatam
     non eo, libertum sed tibi mitto meum.
"Non est"inquis "idem."Multo plus esse probabo:
     uix ego lecticam subsequar, ille feret.
In turbam incideris, cunctos umbone repellet:              5
     inualidum est nobis ingenuumque latus.

You demand from me service in the toga without end
     I do not go, but I send you my freedman.
"It is not," you say, "the same." I will prove it to be much more:
     I will scarcely follow the litter, he will carry it.
Should you run into a crowd, he will repel all with his shield-boss:              5
     for us the flank is feeble and freeborn.

Quidlibet in causa narraueris, ipse tacebo:
     at tibi tergeminum mugiet ille sophos.
Lis erit, ingenti faciet conuicia uoce:
     esse pudor uetuit fortia uerba mihi.              10
"Ergo nihil nobis"inquis "praestabis amicus?"
     Quidquid libertus, Candide, non poterit.

Whatever you will have told in the cause, I myself will be silent;
     but for you he will bellow a thrice‑repeated “sophos.”
There will be a lawsuit; with a vast voice he will make revilings:
     shame forbade strong words to me.              10
“Therefore, friend,” you say, “will you furnish nothing for us?”
     Whatever my freedman cannot, Candidus.

Capena grandi porta qua pluit gutta
Phrygiumque Matris Almo qua lauat ferrum,
Horatiorum qua uiret sacer campus
qua pusilli feruet Herculis fanum,
Faustine, plena Bassus ibat in reda, 5
omnis beati copias trahens ruris.
Illic uideres frutice nobili caules
et utrumque porrum sessilesque lactucas
pigroque uentri non inutiles betas;
illic coronam pinguibus grauem turdis 10
leporemque laesum Gallici canis dente
nondumque uicta lacteum faba porcum;
nec feriatus ibat ante carrucam,
sed tuta faeno cursor oua portabat.
Vrbem petebat Bassus?

By the Capene gate where the big drop drips,
and where the Almo washes the Phrygian Mother’s iron,
where the sacred field of the Horatii is green,
where the shrine of little Hercules bustles,
Faustinus, Bassus was going in a full carriage, 5
dragging along all the resources of a blessed countryside.
There you might see cabbages with noble growth,
and both kinds of leek and sessile lettuces,
and beets not useless to a sluggish belly;
there a garland heavy with plump thrushes, 10
and a hare wounded by the tooth of a Gallic hound,
and a milk-fed pig not yet conquered by bean;
nor did he go idling before the wagon,
but a runner carried eggs safe in hay.
Was Bassus seeking the city?

Immo rus ibat. 15

Rather, he was going to the country. 15

Pauperis extruxit cellam, sed uendidit Olus
praedia: nunc cellam pauperis Olus habet.

He constructed the poor man’s cell, but Olus sold
the estates: now Olus has the poor man’s cell.

Veientana mihi misces, ubi Massica potas:
olfacere haec malo pocula quam bibere.

You mix Veientine for me, while you imbibe Massic:
I would rather smell these cups than drink.

Haec tibi, non alia, est ad cenam causa uocandi,
     uersiculos recites ut, Ligurine, tuos.
Deposui soleas, adfertur protinus ingens
     inter lactucas oxygarumque liber:
alter perlegitur, dum fercula prima morantur:              5
     tertius est, nec adhuc mensa secunda uenit:
et quartum recitas et quintum denique librum.
     Putidus est, totiens si mihi ponis aprum.

This, for you, no other, is the reason for inviting me to dinner,
     that you may recite your little versicles, Ligurinus.
I have taken off my sandals; straightway a huge
     volume is brought in among the lettuces and oxygarum:
the second is read through, while the first courses linger:              5
     there is a third, and not yet does the second table come:
and you recite a fourth and, at last, a fifth book.
     It is rancid, if you set a boar before me so often.

Quod si non scombris scelerata poemata donas,
cenabis solus iam, Ligurine, domi. 10

But if you do not give your wicked poems to the mackerel,
you will dine alone now, Ligurine, at home. 10

Cum faciem laudo, cum miror crura manusque,
dicere, Galla, soles "Nuda placebo magis",
et semper uitas communia balnea nobis.
Numquid, Galla, times ne tibi non placeam?

When I praise your face, when I marvel at your legs and hands,
you are wont to say, Galla, "I shall please more nude,"
and you always avoid the public baths with me.
Is it, Galla, that you fear lest I may not please you?

Empta domus fuerat tibi, Tongiliane, ducentis:
abstulit hanc nimium casus in urbe frequens.
Conlatum est deciens. Rogo, non potes ipse uideri
incendisse tuam, Tongiliane, domum?

A house had been bought for you, Tongilianus, for two hundred thousand;
a mishap too frequent in the city took it away.
A million was contributed. I ask, can you not yourself seem
to have set your own house on fire, Tongilianus?

Et uoltu poteram tuo carere
et collo manibusque cruribusque
et mammis natibusque clunibusque,
et, ne singula persequi laborem,
tota te poteram, Chloe, carere. 5

And I could do without your face,
and your neck and hands and legs,
and your breasts and buttocks and haunches,
and, lest I labor to pursue each single thing,
I could do without the whole of you, Chloe. 5

Cum dare non possim quod poscis, Galla, rogantem,
multo simplicius, Galla, negare potes.

Since I cannot give what you demand, Galla, as I ask,
much more simply, Galla, you can deny.

Quod, quacumque uenis, Cosmum migrare putamus
et fluere excusso cinnama fusa uitro,
nolo peregrinis placeas tibi, Gellia, nugis.
Scis, puto, posse meum sic bene olere canem.

Because, wherever you come, we think Cosmus is migrating,
and cinnamons, poured from the shaken glass, are flowing,
I do not want you to please yourself, Gellia, with foreign trifles.
You know, I think, that my dog could smell well thus.

Sit cisterna mihi quam uinea malo Rauennae,
cum possim multo uendere pluris aquam.

Let there be for me a cistern rather than a vineyard at Ravenna,
since I can vend water at a much higher price.

Callidus imposuit nuper mihi copo Rauennae:
cum peterem mixtum, uendidit ille merum.

A cunning innkeeper at Ravenna recently put one over on me:
when I asked for mixed wine, that fellow sold me the pure, unmixed.

Baiana nostri uilla, Basse, Faustini
non otiosis ordinata myrtetis
uiduaque platano tonsilique buxeto
ingrata lati spatia detinet campi,
sed rure uero barbaroque laetatur.              5
Hic farta premitur angulo Ceres omni
et multa fragrat testa senibus autumnis;
hic post Nouembres imminente iam bruma
seras putator horridus refert uuas.
Truces in alta ualle mugiunt tauri              10
uitulusque inermi fronte prurit in pugnam.
Vagatur omnis turba sordidae chortis,
argutus anser gemmeique pauones
nomenque debet quae rubentibus pinnis
et picta perdix Numidicaeque guttatae              15

The Baian villa of our Faustinus, Bassus,
not arrayed with idle myrtle-groves
and widowed of plane-tree and of barbered boxwood,
holds unpleasing reaches of the broad plain,
but rejoices in true and rustic countryside.              5
Here Ceres, gorged, is pressed in every corner,
and many a jar is fragrant with aged autumns;
here, after the Novembers, with midwinter now looming,
the rough pruner brings in the late grapes.
Grim bulls bellow in the deep valley,              10
and the bull-calf with unarmed brow itches for battle.
The whole crowd of the filthy pens wanders,
the shrill goose and the gemmy peacocks,
and the bird that owes its name to its reddening feathers,
and the painted partridge and the speckled Numidian hen.              15

et impiorum phasiana Colchorum;
Rhodias superbi feminas premunt galli;
sonantque turres plausibus columbarum,
gemit hinc palumbus, inde cereus turtur.
Auidi secuntur uilicae sinum porci 20
matremque plenam mollis agnus expectat.
Cingunt serenum lactei focum uernae
et larga festos lucet ad lares silua.

and the Phasian birds of the impious Colchians;
proud cocks press the Rhodian females;
and the towers resound with the applause of doves,
here the wood-pigeon groans, there the waxen turtledove.
Greedy pigs follow the farm-mistress’s lap 20
and the soft lamb awaits its full mother.
Milk-white homeborn servants encircle the serene hearth
and abundant wood shines for the festive Lares.

Non segnis albo pallet otio caupo,
nec perdit oleum lubricus palaestrita, 25
sed tendit auidis rete subdolum turdis
tremulaue captum linea trahit piscem
aut inpeditam cassibus refert dammam.
Exercet hilares facilis hortus urbanus,
et paedagogo non iubente lasciui 30

The innkeeper, not sluggish, does not grow pale with blank idleness,
nor does the slippery palaestrite waste his oil, 25
but he stretches the sly net for greedy thrushes,
or a trembling line draws in the captured fish,
or he brings back the hind entangled in the nets.
A manageable town-garden keeps the merry at work,
and, with the pedagogue not commanding, the playful 30

parere gaudent uilico capillati,
et delicatus opere fruitur eunuchus.
Nec uenit inanis rusticus salutator:
fert ille ceris cana cum suis mella
metamque lactis Sassinate de silua;              35
somniculosos ille porrigit glires,
hic uagientem matris hispidae fetum,
alius coactos non amare capones;
et dona matrum uimine offerunt texto
grandes proborum uirgines colonorum.              40
Facto uocatur laetus opere uicinus;
nec auara seruat crastinas dapes mensa:
uescuntur omnes ebrioque non nouit
satur minister inuidere conuiuae.
At tu sub urbe possides famem mundam              45

the long‑haired are glad to obey the farm‑steward,
and the pampered eunuch takes pleasure in work.
Nor does the rustic greeter come empty‑handed:
he brings honey white with the wax, with its own comb,
and a cone of milk‑cheese from the Sassinate wood;              35
he offers drowsy dormice,
here a squealing offspring of a bristly mother,
another capons compelled not to love;
and the tall maidens of upright husbandmen offer in woven wicker
the gifts of their mothers.              40
With the work done the neighbor is called in, joyful;
nor does the table, avaricious, keep the feasts for tomorrow:
all feed, and the full, drunken attendant does not know
to begrudge the guest.
But you, under the city, possess clean hunger.              45

et turre ab alta prospicis meras laurus,
furem Priapo non timente securus;
et uinitorem farre pascis urbano
pictamque portas otiosus ad uillam
holus, oua, pullos, poma, caseum, mustum. 50
Rus hoc uocari debet, an domus longe?

and from a lofty tower you look out upon nothing but bays,
secure, the thief not fearing Priapus;
and you feed the vine-dresser with urban far,
and, at leisure, you carry to the villa a painted panel—
vegetables, eggs, chicks, fruits, cheese, must. 50
Ought this to be called the countryside, or a house far away?

Sutor cerdo dedit tibi, culta Bononia, munus,
fullo dedit Mutinae: nunc ubi copo dabit?

A cobbler, a tradesman, gave you, cultivated Bologna, a gift,
a fuller gave to Modena: now where will an innkeeper give?

Cum uocer ad cenam non iam uenalis ut ante,
     cur mihi non eadem quae tibi cena datur?
Ostrea tu sumis stagno saturata Lucrino,
     sugitur inciso mitulus ore mihi;
sunt tibi boleti, fungos ego sumo suillos;              5
     res tibi cum rhombo est, at mihi cum sparulo.
Aureus inmodicis turtur te clunibus implet,
     ponitur in cauea mortua pica mihi.

When I am called to dinner, now no longer for hire as before,
     why is not the same dinner given to me as to you?
You take oysters, fattened in the Lucrine lagoon,
     for me a mussel is sucked, its shell slit;
you have boleti, I take hog-mushrooms;              5
     your affair is with a turbot, but mine with a little sea-bream.
A golden turtle-dove with immoderate haunches stuffs you,
     for me a magpie, dead, is set in a cage.

Cur sine te ceno cum tecum, Pontice, cenem?
Sportula quod non est prosit: edamus idem. 10

Why do I dine without you when I should be dining with you, Ponticus?
Let it be of use that there is no sportula: let us eat the same. 10

Esse nihil dicis quidquid petis, inprobe Cinna:
si nil, Cinna, petis, nil tibi, Cinna, nego.

You say that whatever you ask is nothing, shameless Cinna:
if you ask nothing, Cinna, I deny you nothing.

Centenis quod emis pueros et saepe ducenis,
     quod sub rege Numa condita uina bibis,
quod constat decies tibi non spatiosa supellex,
     libra quod argenti milia quinque rapit,
aurea quod fundi pretio carruca paratur,              5
     quod pluris mula est quam domus empta tibi:
haec animo credis magno te, Quinte, parare?
     Falleris: haec animus, Quinte, pusillus emit.

That you buy boys for a hundred and often for two hundred,
     that you drink wines laid down under King Numa,
that your not-spacious household-furnishings cost you a million (sesterces),
     that a pound of silver carries off five thousand (sesterces),
that a golden coach is procured at the price of an estate,              5
     that a mule is worth more than the house you bought:
do you believe, Quintus, that you are procuring these by a great spirit?
     You are mistaken: a puny spirit, Quintus, buys these.

Cotile, bellus homo es: dicunt hoc, Cotile, multi.
     Audio: sed quid sit, dic mihi, bellus homo?
"Bellus homo est, flexos qui digerit ordine crines,
     balsama qui semper, cinnama semper olet;
cantica qui Nili, qui Gaditana susurrat,              5
     qui mouet in uarios bracchia uolsa modos;
inter femineas tota qui luce cathedras
     desidet atque aliqua semper in aure sonat;
qui legit hinc illinc missas scribitque tabellas;
     pallia uicini qui refugit cubiti;              10
qui scit quam quis amet, qui per conuiuia currit,
     Hirpini ueteres qui bene nouit auos."
Quid narras?

Cotilus, you are a beau: many say this, Cotilus.
     I hear it: but tell me, what is a beau?
"A beau is he who arranges his curled hairs in order,
     who always smells of balsam, always of cinnamon;
who whispers songs of the Nile, who whispers Gaditanian tunes,              5
     who moves his arms, wrenched, into various measures;
who all day long sits idly among feminine chairs
     and is always sounding in some ear;
who reads tablets sent from here and there and writes them;
     who shrinks from the cloaks at a neighbor’s elbow;              10
who knows whom each person loves, who runs through dinner-parties,
     who knows well Hirpinus’s ancient grandfathers."
What are you talking about?

Hoc est, hoc est homo, Cotile, bellus?
Res pertricosa est, Cotile, bellus homo.

Is this, is this, Cotile, a ‘beautiful man’?
The matter is very intricate, Cotile—‘beautiful man.’

Sirenas hilarem nauigantium poenam
blandasque mortes gaudiumque crudele,
quas nemo quondam deserebat auditas,
fallax Vlixes dicitur reliquisse.
Non miror: illud, Cassiane, mirarer, 5
si fabulantem Canium reliquisset.

The Sirens, the cheerful penalty of sailors
and coaxing deaths and cruel joy,
whom in former time no one abandoned, once heard,
deceitful Ulysses is said to have left behind.
I do not marvel: at that, Cassian, I would marvel, 5
if he had left Canius telling fables.

Quod spirat tenera malum mordente puella,
     quod de Corycio quae uenit aura croco;
uinea quod primis cum floret cana racemis,
     gramina quod redolent, quae modo carpsit ouis;
quod myrtus, quod messor Arabs, quod sucina trita,              5
     pallidus Eoo ture quod ignis olet;
gleba quod aestiuo leuiter cum spargitur imbre,
     quod madidas nardo passa corona comas:
hoc tua, saeue puer Diadumene, basia fragrant.
     Quid si tota dares illa sine inuidia?              10

What a tender girl exhales while biting an apple,
     what breeze comes from the Corycian crocus;
what a vineyard breathes when it blooms, hoary with its first clusters,
     what odor the grasses redolently give, which the sheep has just cropped;
what myrtle, what the Arab reaper, what amber when rubbed,              5
     what the pale fire smells of with Eastern incense;
what the clod, when it is lightly sprinkled with a summer shower,
     what a garland, having borne dripping locks with nard:
with this, your kisses, cruel boy Diadumenus, are fragrant.
     What if you were to give them whole, without grudging?              10

Par scelus admisit Phariis Antonius armis:
     abscidit uoltus ensis uterque sacros.
Illud, laurigeros ageres cum laeta triumphos,
     hoc tibi, Roma, caput, cum loquereris, erat.
Antoni tamen est peior quam causa Pothini:              5
     hic facinus domino praestitit, ille sibi.

Antony committed an equal crime with Pharian arms:
     each sword cut off sacred faces.
That, when you, joyful, were driving laurel-bearing triumphs,
     was your head; this was your head, Rome, when you were speaking.
Yet Antony is worse than the cause of Pothinus:              5
     this man performed the crime for his master, that man for himself.

Cessatis, pueri, nihilque nostis,
Vaterno Rasinaque pigriores,
quorum per uada tarda nauigantes
lentos tinguitis ad celeuma remos.
Iam prono Phaetonte sudat Aethon 5
exarsitque dies et hora lassos
interiungit equos meridiana:
at uos tam placidas uagi per undas
tuta luditis otium carina.
Non nautas puto uos, sed Argonautas. 10

You dawdle, boys, and know nothing,
more sluggish than the Vaternus and the Rasina,
sailing through whose slow shallows
you dip the sluggish oars to the celeusma.
Now, with Phaethon bent forward, Aethon sweats 5
and the day has blazed up, and the midday hour
yokes together the weary horses:
but you, wandering over such placid waves,
with a safe keel you toy with leisure.
I do not think you sailors, but Argonauts. 10

Huc est usque tibi scriptus, matrona, libellus.
Cui sint scripta rogas interiora? Mihi.

Thus far the little book has been written for you, matron.
For whom, you ask, are the interior things written? For me.

Gymnasium, thermas, stadium est hac parte: recede.
     Exuimur: nudos parce uidere uiros.
Hinc iam deposito post uina rosasque pudore,              5
     quid dicat nescit saucia Terpsichore:
schemate nec dubio, sed aperte nominat illam
     quam recipit sexto mense superba Venus,
custodem medio statuit quam uilicus horto,
     opposita spectat quam proba uirgo manu.              10
Si bene te noui, longum iam lassa libellum
     ponebas, totum nunc studiosa leges.

The gymnasium, the baths, the stadium are on this side: withdraw.
     We are being stripped: refrain from looking at naked men.
From here now, with modesty laid aside after wine and roses,              5
     love-wounded Terpsichore does not know what she says:
not by a doubtful schema, but openly he names her
     whom proud Venus receives in the sixth month,
whom the overseer sets as guard in the middle of the garden,
     whom a modest maiden looks at with her hand held up in front.              10
If I know you well, tired, you were already putting the long little-book aside;
     now, eager, you will read it all.

Omnia quod scribis castis epigrammata uerbis
     inque tuis nulla est mentula carminibus,
admiror, laudo; nihil est te sanctius uno:
     at mea luxuria pagina nulla uacat.
Haec igitur nequam iuuenes facilesque puellae,              5
     haec senior, sed quem torquet amica, legat:
at tua, Cosconi, uenerandaque sanctaque uerba
     a pueris debent uirginibusque legi.

All the epigrams that you write with chaste words
     and in your poems there is no penis,
I admire, I praise; nothing is holier than you alone:
     but no page of mine is free from wantonness.
Therefore let these be read by good-for-nothing youths and easy girls,              5
     let an older man read them too, but one whom a girlfriend torments:
but your words, Cosconius, venerable and sacred,
     ought to be read by boys and virgins.

Moechus es Aufidiae, qui uir, Scaeuine, fuisti;
riualis fuerat qui tuus, ille uir est.
Cur aliena placet tibi, quae tua non placet, uxor?
Numquid securus non potes arrigere?

You are Aufidia’s adulterer, you who were her husband, Scaevinus;
he who had been your rival, that man is the husband.
Why does another’s wife please you, while your own wife does not please you?
Is it that, when secure, you cannot get erect?

Mentula cum doleat puero, tibi, Naeuole, culus,
non sum diuinus, sed scio quid facias.

When the boy’s prick aches, Naevolus, your asshole does;
I am no diviner, but I know what you do.

Vis futui nec uis mecum, Saufeia, lauari:
     nescio quod magnum suspicor esse nefas.
Aut tibi pannosae dependent pectore mammae
     aut sulcos uteri prodere nuda times
aut infinito lacerum patet inguen hiatu              5
     aut aliquid cunni prominet ore tui.
Sed nihil est horum, credo, pulcherrima nuda es.
     Si uerum est, uitium peius habes: fatua es.

You want to fuck and yet you do not want to bathe with me, Saufeia:
     I suspect there is some great nefarious offense I don’t know of.
Either ragged mammaries hang from your chest,
     or, naked, you fear to betray the furrows of your womb,
or your groin gapes torn with an infinite yawning,              5
     or something of your cunt protrudes at its mouth.
But none of these is the case, I believe; you are most beautiful naked.
     If that is true, you have a worse defect: you are a fool.

Dormis cum pueris mutuniatis,
et non stat tibi, Phoebe, quod stat illis.
Quid uis me, rogo, Phoebe, suspicari?
Mollem credere te uirum uolebam,
sed rumor negat esse te cinaedum. 5

You sleep with phallus-equipped boys,
and what stands for them does not stand for you, Phoebe.
What do you want me, I ask, Phoebe, to suspect?
I wanted to believe you a soft man,
but rumor denies that you are a cinaedus. 5

Psilothro faciem leuas et dropace caluam:
numquid tonsorem, Gargiliane, times?
Quid facient ungues? Nam certe non potes illos
resina Veneto nec resecare luto.

With psilothrum you smooth your face, and with dropax your bald pate:
do you perhaps fear the barber, Gargilianus?
What about your nails? For certainly you cannot
trim them with resin or with Venetian mud.

Desine, si pudor est, miseram traducere caluam:
5 hoc fieri cunno, Gargiliane, solet.

Cease, if you have any shame, from parading the wretched bald pate:
5 this is wont to be done to the cunt, Gargiliane.

Stare, Luperce, tibi iam pridem mentula desit,
     luctaris demens tu tamen arrigere.
Sed nihil erucae faciunt bulbique salaces,
     inproba nec prosunt iam satureia tibi.
Coepisti puras opibus corrumpere buccas:              5
     sic quoque non uiuit sollicitata Venus.

To stand, Lupercus, your prick has long since been lacking,
     yet you, demented, still struggle to raise it.
But rocket and salacious bulbs do nothing,
     nor does that shameless savory now profit you.
You have begun to corrupt pure cheeks with wealth:              5
     even so, Venus, though solicited, does not live.

Mirari satis hoc quisquam uel credere possit,
quod non stat, magno stare, Luperce, tibi?

Can anyone sufficiently marvel at this or even believe it,
that what does not stand will, for a great price, stand for you, Luperce?

Arrigis ad uetulas, fastidis, Basse, puellas,
nec formonsa tibi, sed moritura placet.
Hic, rogo, non furor est, non haec est mentula demens?
Cum possis Hecaben, non potes Andromachen!

You get hard for old women, you disdain girls, Bassus;
nor does the beautiful please you, but one about to die.
Here, I ask, is this not furor, is this not a demented prick?
When you can take Hecuba, you cannot take Andromache!

Nec mullus nec te delectat, Baetice, turdus,
     nec lepus est umquam nec tibi gratus aper;
nec te liba iuuant nec sectae quadra placentae,
     nec Libye mittit nec tibi Phasis aues:
capparin et putri cepas allece natantis              5
     et pulpam dubio de petasone uoras,
teque iuuant gerres et pelle melandrya cana;
     resinata bibis uina, Falerna fugis.
Nescio quod stomachi uitium secretius esse
     suspicor: ut quid enim, Baetice, saprophagis?              10

Neither the red mullet nor the thrush delights you, Baeticus,
     nor is the hare ever, nor the boar, pleasing to you;
nor do sacrificial cakes please you, nor a quarter-cut slice of a placenta-cake,
     nor does Libya send, nor does Phasis to you, birds:
you wolf down capers and onions in putrid alec of swimming salt-fish,              5
     and you devour the flesh from a dubious gammon,
and gerres please you, and melandrya hoary of skin;
     you drink resinated wines, you flee Falernian.
I suspect there is some more secret defect of the stomach—
     for why, Baeticus, are you with the saprophagi?              10

Minxisti currente semel, Pauline, carina.
Meiere uis iterum? Iam Palinurus eris.

You pissed once while the ship was running, Paulinus.
Do you want to piss again? Now you will be a Palinurus.

Rem peragit nullam Sertorius, inchoat omnes:
hunc ego, cum futuit, non puto perficere.

Sertorius completes nothing; he inchoates everything:
I do not think that, when he fucks, he brings it to completion.

De nullo quereris, nulli maledicis, Apici:
rumor ait linguae te tamen esse malae.

You complain of no one, you malign no one, Apicius:
rumor says, nevertheless, that you have a malicious tongue.

Quid cum femineo tibi, Baetice galle, barathro?
Haec debet medios lambere lingua uiros.
Abscisa est quare Samia tibi mentula testa,
si tibi tam gratus, Baetice, cunnus erat?

What have you to do with the feminine abyss, Baetic eunuch?
This tongue ought to lick men in their middles.
Why was your prick cut off with a Samian potsherd,
if the cunt was so pleasing to you, Baetic?

Castrandum caput est: nam sis licet inguine gallus, 5
sacra tamen Cybeles decipis: ore uir es.

The head must be castrated: for you may be a gallus in the groin, 5
yet you deceive the sacred rites of Cybele: by your mouth you are a man.

Conuiua quisquis Zoili potest esse,
Summemmianas cenet inter uxores
curtaque Ledae sobrius bibat testa:
hoc esse leuius puriusque contendo.
Iacet occupato galbinatus in lecto              5
cubitisque trudit hinc et inde conuiuas
effultus ostro Sericisque puluillis.
Stat exoletus suggeritque ructanti
pinnas rubentes cuspidesque lentisci,
et aestuanti tenue uentilat frigus              10
supina prasino concubina flabello,
fugatque muscas myrtea puer uirga.
Percurrit agili corpus arte tractatrix
manumque doctam spargit omnibus membris;
digiti crepantis signa nouit eunuchus              15

Whoever can be a dinner-guest of Zoilus,
let him dine among the Summemmian wives
and, sober, drink from Leda’s short earthen cup:
I maintain this to be lighter and purer.
Clad in yellow-green he lies on a reserved couch,              5
and with his elbows he shoves the guests here and there,
propped on purple and on Seric cushions.
A kept-boy stands and supplies to the belching man
red feathers and the tips of mastic,
and a concubine, lying supine, ventilates a slight coolness              10
with a leek-green fan,
and a boy drives away the flies with a myrtle rod.
A masseuse runs over his body with nimble art
and spreads a trained hand over all his limbs;
the eunuch knows the signals of the snapping finger.              15

et delicatae sciscitator urinae
domini bibentis ebrium regit penem.
At ipse retro flexus ad pedum turbam
inter catellas anserum exta lambentis
partitur apri glandulas palaestritis              20
et concubino turturum natis donat;
Ligurumque nobis saxa cum ministrentur
uel cocta fumis musta Massilitanis,
Opimianum morionibus nectar
crystallinisque murrinisque propinat;              25
et Cosmianis ipse fusus ampullis
non erubescit murice aureo nobis
diuidere moechae pauperis capillare.
Septunce multo deinde perditus stertit:
non accubamus et silentium rhonchis              30

and the inquirer of delicate urine
guides the drunken penis of his drinking master.
But he himself, bent back toward the crowd at his feet,
among little bitches licking the entrails of geese,
apportions the boar’s sweetbreads to the palaestrites,              20
and to his concubinus he gifts the rumps of turtledoves;
and while to us the Ligurians’ stones are served,
or musts of Massilia cooked by smokes,
he pledges Opimian nectar in morion cups
and in crystal and murrhine; and, bathed in Cosmian flasks,              25
he does not blush, in golden purple, to divide to us
the hairnet of a poor adulteress.
Then, undone by much septunce, he snores:
we do not recline, and the silence is all with snores.              30

praestare iussi nutibus propinamus.
Hoc Malchionis patimur inprobi fastus,
nec uindicari, Rufe, possumus: fellat.

ordered to comply, we pledge toasts at his nods.
This haughtiness of the shameless Malchion we endure,
and we cannot be avenged, Rufus: he fellates.

Vt faciam breuiora mones epigrammata, Corde.
"Fac mihi quod Chione": non potui breuius.

You advise that I make my epigrams shorter, Corde.
"Do for me what Chione does": I could not do it shorter.

Quid narrat tua moecha? Non puellam
dixi, Gongylion. Quid ergo?

What does your adulteress narrate? I did not say girl, Gongylion. What then?

Linguam.

The tongue.

Quis tibi persuasit naris abscidere moecho?
Non hac peccatum est parte, marite, tibi.
Stulte, quid egisti?

Who persuaded you to cut off the adulterer’s nose?
It is not in this part that you have been sinned against, husband.
Fool, what have you done?

Nihil hic tibi perdidit uxor,
cum sit salua tui mentula Deiphobi.

Here your wife has lost nothing for you,
since the penis of your Deiphobus is safe.

Ne legeres partem lasciui, casta, libelli,
praedixi et monui: tu tamen, ecce, legis.
Sed si Panniculum spectas et, casta, Latinum, ‹
non sunt haec mimis inprobiora, ‹ lege.

So that you might not read the lascivious part of the little book, chaste one,
I foretold and warned: yet, look, you read.
But if you watch Panniculus and, chaste one, Latinus, ‹
these are not more immodest than the mimes; ‹ read.

Narrat te rumor, Chione, numquam esse fututam
atque nihil cunno purius esse tuo.
Tecta tamen non hac, qua debes, parte lauaris:
si pudor est, transfer subligar in faciem.

Rumor tells, Chione, that you have never been fucked,
and that nothing is purer than your cunt.
Yet you do not wash the covered part with the part you ought:
if modesty exists, move your subligar to your face.

Sunt gemini fratres, diuersa sed inguina lingunt:
dicite, dissimiles sunt magis an similes?

There are twin brothers, but they lick diverse groins:
say, are they more dissimilar or similar?

Vtere lactucis et mollibus utere maluis:
nam faciem durum, Phoebe, cacantis habes.

Use lettuces and use soft mallows:
for you have, Phoebe, the hard face of one shitting.

Volt, non uolt dare Galla mihi; nec dicere possum,
quod uolt et non uolt, quid sibi Galla uelit.

Galla wants, does not want, to give to me; nor can I say,
since she wants and does not want, what Galla wills.

Cum peteret patriae missicius arua Rauennae,
     semiuiro Cybeles cum grege iunxit iter.
Huic comes haerebat domini fugitiuus Achillas
     insignis forma nequitiaque puer.
Hoc steriles sensere uiri: qua parte cubaret              5
     quaerunt.

When he, a discharged soldier, was seeking the fields of his fatherland at Ravenna,
     he joined his journey with the half-male troop of Cybele.
To him there clung as a companion his master’s fugitive Achillas,
     a boy distinguished for beauty and for knavery.
This the sterile men perceived: on which side he might lie down              5
     they ask.

Sed tacitos sensit et ille dolos:
mentitur, credunt. Somni post uina petuntur:
     continuo ferrum noxia turba rapit
exciduntque senem spondae qui parte iacebat;
     namque puer pluteo uindice tutus erat.              10
Subpositam quondam fama est pro uirgine ceruam,
     at nunc pro ceruo mentula subposita est.

But he too perceived the tacit deceits:
he lies, they believe. After wine, sleep is sought:
     straightway the noxious crowd snatches iron,
and they cut down the old man who was lying on the side of the couch;
     for the boy was safe, protected by a guarding screen.              10
Report has it that once a hind was substituted in place of the virgin,
     but now, instead of the stag, a phallus has been put in.

Vt patiar moechum rogat uxor, Galle, sed unum.
Huic ego non oculos eruo, Galle, duos?

She asks that I endure an adulterer, Gallus—but only one.
For this, shall I not gouge out, Gallus, her two eyes?

Cum tibi trecenti consules, Vetustilla,
et tres capilli quattuorque sint dentes,
pectus cicadae, crus colorque formicae;
rugosiorem cum geras stola frontem
et araneorum cassibus pares mammas;              5
cum conparata rictibus tuis ora
Niliacus habeat corcodilus angusta,
meliusque ranae garriant Rauennates,
et Atrianus dulcius culix cantet,
uideasque quantum noctuae uident mane,              10
et illud oleas quod uiri capellarum,
et anatis habeas orthopygium macrae,
senemque Cynicum uincat osseus cunnus;
cum te lucerna balneator extincta
admittat inter bustuarias moechas;              15

When to your tally there have been three hundred consuls, Vetustilla,
and you have three hairs and four teeth,
the breast of a cicada, the leg and the color of an ant;
when you bear a forehead more wrinkled than your stola,
and breasts equal to the webs of spiders;              5
when, mouths compared to your gapes,
the Nile crocodile has a narrow one,
and the Ravennate frogs chatter better,
and the gnat of Atria sings more sweetly,
and you see as much as owls see in the morning,              10
and you smell of that which is the male of she‑goats,
and you have the orthopygium of a lean duck,
and a bony cunt outdoes an old Cynic;
when the bath‑attendant, his lamp extinguished,
admits you among bustuarian adulteresses;              15

cum bruma mensem sit tibi per Augustum
regelare nec te pestilentia possit:
audes ducentas nuptuire post mortes
uirumque demens cineribus tuis quaeris
prurire. Quid si Sattiae uelit saxum? 20
Quis coniugem te, quis uocabit uxorem,
Philomelus auiam quam uocauerat nuper?
Quod si cadauer exiges tuum scalpi,
sternatur Acori de triclinio lectus,
halassionem qui tuum decet solus, 25
tustorque taedas praeferat nouae nuptae:
intrare in istum sola fax potest cunnum.

when midwinter keeps its month for you through August,
and not even a pestilence can freeze you:
you dare to take nuptials after two hundred deaths,
and, demented, you seek a man to make your ashes itch.
What if a stone should desire Sattia? 20
Who will call you consort, who will call you wife,
whom Philomelus lately called grandmother?
But if you demand that your cadaver be scratched,
let the couch from Acorus’s dining-room be laid out,
which alone befits your Thalassio; 25
and let the cremator bear the torches before the new bride:
into that cunt only a torch can enter.

Esse negas coctum leporem poscisque flagella.
Mauis, Rufe, cocum scindere quam leporem.

You deny the hare is cooked and you demand the scourges.
You prefer, Rufus, to carve the cook rather than the hare.

Numquam dicis haue sed reddis, Naeuole, semper,
     quod prior et coruus dicere saepe solet.
Cur hoc expectas a me, rogo, Naeuole, dicas:
     nam, puto, nec melior, Naeuole, nec prior es.
Praemia laudato tribuit mihi Caesar uterque              5
     natorumque dedit iura paterna trium.
Ore legor multo notumque per oppida nomen
     non expectato dat mihi fama rogo.

You never say “hail” but always return it, Naevolus,—
     which even the crow is often wont to say first.
Why do you expect this from me, I ask—say, Naevolus:
     for, I suppose, you are neither better, Naevolus, nor earlier.
Each Caesar, with praise, has bestowed rewards on me,              5
     and has given the paternal rights of three offspring.
By many a mouth I am read, and my name is known through the towns—
     fame, without waiting for a request, gives to me.

Est et in hoc aliquid: uidit me Roma tribunum
     et sedeo qua te suscitat Oceanus.              10
Quot mihi Caesareo facti sunt munere ciues,
     nec famulos totidem suspicor esse tibi.
Sed pedicaris, sed pulchre, Naeuole, ceues.
     Iam iam tu prior es, Naeuole, uincis: haue.

There is something in this too: Rome saw me as a tribune
     and I sit where the Ocean awakens you.              10
How many fellow-citizens have been made for me by a Caesarean gift,
     nor do I suspect you have as many household slaves.
But you get buggered, but nicely, Naevolus, you wag.
     Now now you are first, Naevolus, you win: hail.

Lingis, non futuis meam puellam
et garris quasi moechus et fututor.
Si te prendero, Gargili, tacebis.

You lick, you don’t fuck my girl,
and you gabble as if an adulterer and a fucker.
If I get hold of you, Gargili, you will be silent.

Ne legat hunc Chione, mando tibi, Rufe, libellum:
carmine laesa meo est, laedere et illa potest.

Let Chione not read this little book, I command you, Rufus:
she has been injured by my poem, and she too can injure.

Sit culus tibi quam macer, requiris?
Pedicare potes, Sabelle, culo.

Do you ask how lean your ass should be?
You can sodomize, Sabellus, with your ass.

Irasci nostro non debes, Cerdo, libello:
ars tua, non uita, est carmine laesa meo.
Innocuos permitte sales. Cur ludere nobis
non liceat, licuit si iugulare tibi?

You ought not to be angry at my little book, Cerdo:
your art, not your life, is injured in my poem.
Allow harmless witticisms. Why is it not permitted for us to play,
if it was permitted for you to cut throats?

100

Cursorem sexta tibi, Rufe, remisimus hora
carmina quem madidum nostra tulisse reor:
imbribus inmodicis caelum nam forte ruebat.
Non aliter mitti debuit iste liber.

At the sixth hour we sent back the courier to you, Rufus,
whom I suppose carried our poems soaked:
for by immoderate downpours the sky chanced to be rushing down.
This little book ought not to have been sent otherwise.