Martial: EPIGRAMMATON LIBRI

Caesaris alma dies et luce sacratior illa
     conscia Dictaeum qua tulit Ida Iouem,
longa, precor, Pylioque ueni numerosior aeuo
     semper et hoc uoltu uel meliore nite.
Hic colat Albano Tritonida multus in auro              5
     perque manus tantas plurima quercus eat;
hic colat ingenti redeuntia saecula lustro
     et quae Romuleus sacra Tarentos habet.
Magna quidem, superi, petimus, sed debita terris:
     pro tanto quae sunt inproba uota deo?              10

Caesar’s kindly day, and a light more sacred than that
     on which Ida, conscious, bore Dictaean Jove,
long, I pray, and come more numerous in age than the Pylian,
     and always shine with this visage or with a better.
Here let him worship the Tritonid at the Alban with much gold,              5
     and through so many hands let very many an oak go;
here let him solemnize the ages returning with a huge lustrum,
     and the sacred rites which Romulean Tarentum holds.
Great things indeed we ask, O gods above, but things owed to the lands:
     for so great a god, what prayers are immoderate?              10

Spectabat modo solus inter omnes
nigris munus Horatius lacernis,
cum plebs et minor ordo maximusque
sancto cum duce candidus sederet.
Toto nix cedidit repente caelo: 5
albis spectat Horatius lacernis.

Just now, alone among all, Horace was watching the spectacle
in black cloaks,
while the plebs, the lesser order, and the greatest,
sat white-clad with the sacred leader.
From the whole sky snow fell suddenly: 5
Horace watches in white cloaks.

Aspice quam densum tacitarum uellus aquarum
     defluat in uoltus Caesaris inque sinus.
Indulget tamen ille Ioue, nec uertice moto
     concretas pigro frigore ridet aquas,
sidus Hyperborei solitus lassare Bootae              5
     et madidis Helicen dissimulare comis.
Quis siccis lasciuit aquis et ab aethere ludit?

Behold how dense a fleece of silent waters
     flows down onto Caesar’s face and into his bosom.
Yet he indulges Jove, and, his head not moved,
     he laughs at waters congealed by sluggish frigidity,
a star accustomed to weary Hyperborean Boötes              5
     and to conceal Helice with dripping locks.
Who frolics with dry waters and plays from the aether?

Suspicor has pueri Caesaris esse niues.

I suspect these are the snows of the boy Caesar.

Quod siccae redolet palus lacunae,
crudarum nebulae quod Albularum,
piscinae uetus aura quod marinae,
quod pressa piger hircus in capella,
lassi uardaicus quod euocati, 5
quod bis murice uellus inquinatum,
quod ieiunia sabbatariarum,
maestorum quod anhelitus reorum,
quod spurcae moriens lucerna Ledae,
quod ceromata faece de Sabina, 10
quod uolpis fuga, uipera cubile,
mallem quam quod oles olere, Bassa.

What the dried marsh of a lagoon exhales,
what the raw mists of the Albulae,
what the old air of a sea fishpond,
what a sluggish billy-goat, pressed upon a she-goat,
what the uardaic of a weary evocatus, 5
what a fleece twice inquinated with murex,
what the fasts of Sabbath-keepers,
what the anhelitus of sad defendants,
what the dying lamp of filthy Leda,
what the ceromata with dregs from Sabina, 10
what the flight of a fox, the lair of a viper—
I would rather smell than what you smell of, Bassa.

Vir bonus et pauper linguaque et pectore uerus,
     quid tibi uis urbem qui, Fabiane, petis?
Qui nec leno potes nec comissator haberi,
     nec pauidos tristi uoce citare reos,
nec potes uxores cari corrumpere amici,              5
     nec potes algentes arrigere ad uetulas,
uendere nec uanos circa Palatia fumos,
     plaudere nec Cano, plaudere nec Glaphyro:
unde miser uiues? — "Homo certus, fidus amicus." —
     Hoc nihil est: numquam sic Philomelus eris.              10

A good man and poor, true in tongue and in breast,
     what do you intend, Fabian, you who seek the city?
You who can be held neither a pimp nor a reveller,
     nor cite timid defendants with a grim voice,
nor can you corrupt the wives of a dear friend,              5
     nor can you stiffen up chilly old women,
nor sell empty smoke around the Palaces,
     nor applaud Canus, nor applaud Glaphyrus:
whence, poor wretch, will you live? — “A sure man, a faithful friend.” —
     This is nothing: never thus will you be Philomelus.              10

Credi uirgine castior pudica
et frontis tenerae cupis uideri,
cum sis inprobior, Malisiane,
quam qui compositos metro Tibulli
in Stellae recitat domo libellos. 5

You wish to be believed modest, chaster than a virgin,
and to seem of a tender brow,
though you are more shameless, Malisianus,
than he who recites the little books of Tibullus composed in meter
in Stella’s house. 5

Cur, here quod dederas, hodie, puer Hylle, negasti,
durus tam subito qui modo mitis eras?
Sed iam causaris barbamque annosque pilosque.
O nox quam longa es quae facis una senem!

Why, what you gave yesterday, today, boy Hylas, have you denied,
so hard so suddenly, you who just now were gentle?
But now you plead—beard and years and hairs.
O night, how long you are, you who make a man old in a single night!

Quid nos derides? Here qui puer, Hylle, fuisti, 5
dic nobis, hodie qua ratione uir es?

Why do you deride us? Master, you who were a boy, Hylas, 5
tell us, by what reason are you today a man?

Prima salutantes atque altera conterit hora,
     exercet raucos tertia causidicos,
in quintam uarios extendit Roma labores,
     sexta quies lassis, septima finis erit,
sufficit in nonam nitidis octaua palaestris,              5
     imperat extructos frangere nona toros:
hora libellorum decuma est, Eupheme, meorum,
     temperat ambrosias cum tua cura dapes
et bonus aetherio laxatur nectare Caesar
     ingentique tenet pocula parca manu.              10
Tunc admitte iocos: gressu timet ire licenti
     ad matutinum nostra Thalia Iouem.

The first hour, and the second, grind down those offering salutations,
     the third busies the hoarse advocates;
into the fifth Rome stretches various labors,
     the sixth is rest for the weary, the seventh will be the end;
the eighth suffices for the gleaming gymnasia,              5
     the ninth orders the piled-up couches to be broken:
the tenth hour is for my little books, Eupheme,
     when your care tempers the ambrosial banquets
and the good Caesar is relaxed by ethereal nectar
     and holds the huge cups with a sparing hand.              10
Then admit jests: with a free step our Thalia fears to go
     to the morning Jupiter.

Sotae filia clinici, Labulla,
deserto sequeris Clytum marito,
et donas et amas: echeis asotos.

Labulla, daughter of Sotas the clinician,
you follow Clytus, with your husband deserted,
and you bestow and you love: you have profligates.

Dum nouus est nec adhuc rasa mihi fronte libellus,
     pagina dum tangi non bene sicca timet,
i, puer, et caro perfer leue munus amico
     qui meruit nugas primus habere meas.
Curre, sed instructus: comitetur Punica librum              5
     spongea: muneribus conuenit illa meis.
Non possunt nostros multae, Faustine, liturae
     emendare iocos: una litura potest.

While the little book is new, and nor yet with its front scraped for me,
     while the page, not well dry, fears to be touched,
go, boy, and bear a light gift to a dear friend
     who has deserved to have my trifles first.
Run, but equipped: let a Punic sponge accompany the book,              5
     it befits my gifts.
Many erasures cannot emend our jests, Faustinus;
     one erasure can.

Dum nimium uano tumefactus nomine gaudes
     et Saturninum te, miser, esse pudet,
impia Parrhasia mouisti bella sub ursa,
     qualia qui Phariae coniugis arma tulit.
Excideratne adeo fatum tibi nominis huius,              5
     obruit Actiaci quod grauis ira freti?
An tibi promisit Rhenus quod non dedit illi
     Nilus, et Arctois plus licuisset aquis?

While, swollen too much by an empty name, you rejoice,
     and you, wretch, are ashamed to be a Saturninus,
you stirred impious wars under the Parrhasian she-bear,
     such as he who bore the arms of his Pharian consort.
Had the fate of this name so slipped from your mind,              5
     which the heavy wrath of the Actian strait overwhelmed?
Or did the Rhine promise you what the Nile did not give to him,
     and would more have been permitted to you by the Arctic waters?

Ille etiam nostris Antonius occidit armis,
qui tibi conlatus, perfide, Caesar erat. 10

That Antony too fell by our arms,
who, compared to you, perfidious one, was a Caesar. 10

Nulli, Thai, negas; sed si te non pudet istud,
hoc saltem pudeat, Thai, negare nihil.

You deny no one, Thai; but if that does not shame you,
at least be ashamed, Thai, of denying nothing.

Claudia, Rufe, meo nubit Peregrina Pudenti:
     macte esto taedis, o Hymenaee, tuis.
Tam bene rara suo miscentur cinnama nardo,
     Massica Theseis tam bene uina fauis;
Nec melius teneris iunguntur uitibus ulmi,              5
     nec plus lotos aquas, litora myrtus amat.
Candida perpetuo reside, Concordia, lecto,
     tamque pari semper sit Venus aequa iugo:
diligat illa senem quondam, sed et ipsa marito
     tum quoque, cum fuerit, non uideatur anus.              10

Claudia Peregrina is marrying my Pudens, Rufus:
     be propitious with your torches, O Hymenaeus.
So well rare cinnamons are blended with their own nard,
     so well Massic wines with Thesean honeycombs;
nor are elms more fittingly joined to tender vines,              5
     nor does the lotus love the waters, the myrtle the shores, more.
Fair Concord, reside forever on their marriage bed,
     and may Venus be ever impartial with an equal yoke:
let her someday love him as an old man, but may she herself
     then too, when she shall be so, not seem an old woman to her husband.              10

Sili, Castalidum decus sororum,
qui periuria barbari furoris
ingenti premis ore perfidosque
astus Hannibalis leuisque Poenos
magnis cedere cogis Africanis: 5
paulum seposita seueritate,
dum blanda uagus alea December
incertis sonat hinc et hinc fritillis
et ludit tropa nequiore talo,
nostris otia commoda Camenis, 10
nec torua lege fronte, sed remissa
lasciuis madidos iocis libellos.
Sic forsan tener ausus est Catullus
magno mittere Passerem Maroni.

Silius, glory of the Castalian sisters,
you who with a mighty voice press down the perjuries of barbarian frenzy
and the treacherous stratagems of Hannibal and the flighty Punics,
and compel them to yield to the great Africans: 5
with severity set aside a little while,
while charming December’s wandering dice
rattle here and there in uncertain dice-boxes
and play with a naughtier cast of the knucklebone,
grant leisure suitable to our Camenae, 10
and not with a grim, law-bound brow, but relaxed,
let little books drip, soaked with lascivious jests.
Thus perhaps tender Catullus dared
to send his Sparrow to great Maro.

Mille tibi nummos hesterna luce roganti
     in sex aut septem, Caeciliane, dies
"Non habeo" dixi: sed tu, causatus amici
     aduentum, lancem paucaque uasa rogas.
Stultus es? An stultum me credis, amice? Negaui              5
     mille tibi nummos, milia quinque dabo?

A thousand coins, when you asked me yesterday
     for six or seven days, Caecilianus, I said, “I do not have [it]”: but you, pleading a friend’s
arrival, ask for a platter and a few vessels.
Are you foolish? Or do you think me foolish, my friend? I refused              5
     you a thousand coins; shall I give you five thousand?

Priuignum non esse tuae te, Galle, nouercae
     rumor erat, coniunx dum fuit illa patris.
Non tamen hoc poterat uiuo genitore probari:
     iam nusquam pater est, Galle, nouerca domi est.
Magnus ab infernis reuocetur Tullius umbris              5
     et te defendat Regulus ipse licet,
non potes absolui: nam quae non desinit esse
     post patrem, numquam, Galle, nouerca fuit.

That you were not the stepson of your stepmother, Galle, rumor said,
     while she was the spouse of your father.
Yet this could not be proved with your begetter alive:
     now your father is nowhere, Galle, and the stepmother is at home.
Let great Tullius be called back from the infernal shades              5
     and even if Regulus himself should defend you,
you cannot be acquitted: for she who does not cease to be
     after the father was never, Galle, a stepmother.

Facere in Lyciscam, Paule, me iubes uersus,
quibus illa lectis rubeat et sit irata.
O Paule, malus es: irrumare uis solus.

You order me, Paul, to make verses against Lycisca,
by the reading of which she may blush and be angry.
O Paul, you are wicked: you want to irrumate her alone.

Qua uicina pluit Vipsanis porta columnis
     et madet adsiduo lubricus imbre lapis,
in iugulum pueri, qui roscida tecta subibat,
     decidit hiberno praegrauis unda gelu:
cumque peregisset miseri crudelia fata,              5
     tabuit in calido uolnere mucro tener.
Quid non saeua sibi uoluit Fortuna licere?
     Aut ubi non mors est, si iugulatis aquae?

Where, near the Vipsanian columns, the gate rains,
     and the stone, slippery, is soaked with continual rain,
onto the throat of a boy, who was passing beneath the dewy eaves,
     a wave, heavy with winter frost, fell:
and when it had accomplished the cruel fate of the poor wretch,              5
     the tender point melted in the warm wound.
What has savage Fortune not wished to permit herself?
     Or where is death not, if you waters slit throats?

Hanc tibi Sequanicae pinguem textricis alumnam,
     quae Lacedaemonium barbara nomen habet,
sordida, sed gelido non aspernanda Decembri
     dona, peregrinam mittimus endromida: —
seu lentum ceroma teris tepidumque trigona              5
     siue harpasta manu puluerulenta rapis,
plumea seu laxi partiris pondera follis
     siue leuem cursu uincere quaeris Athan —
ne madidos intret penetrabile frigus in artus
     neue grauis subita te premat Iris aqua.              10
Ridebis uentos hoc munere tectus et imbris,
     nec sic in Tyria sindone tutus eris.

This rich foster-child of a Sequanian weaver for you,
     which, though barbarian, bears a Lacedaemonian name,
coarse, but not to be spurned in icy December,
     as a gift we send the foreign endromis: —
whether you rub on the slow ceroma and the tepid trigon,              5
     or snatch with your hand the dusty harpastum,
or share the feathery weights of the slack bladder-ball,
     or seek by running to defeat light-footed Athan —
lest piercing cold enter your dripping limbs,
     nor heavy Iris press you with sudden water.              10
Sheltered by this gift you will laugh at winds and showers,
     nor even in Tyrian sindon will you be so safe.

Dicit se uetulam, cum sit Caerellia pupa:
pupam se dicit Gellia, cum sit anus.
Ferre nec hanc possis, possis, Colline, nec illam:
altera ridicula est, altera putidula.

Caerellia says she is a little old woman, though she is a doll:
Gellia calls herself a doll, though she is an old woman.
You could not bear this one, Colline, nor that one:
one is ridiculous, the other a little putrid.

Nullos esse deos, inane caelum
adfirmat Segius: probatque, quod se
factum, dum negat haec, uidet beatum.

Segius affirms that there are no gods, that heaven is empty;
and he proves it, because he sees that he has become fortunate
while he denies these things.

Primos passa toros et adhuc placanda marito
     merserat in nitidos se Cleopatra lacus,
dum fugit amplexus. Sed prodidit unda latentem;
     lucebat, totis cum tegeretur aquis:
condita sic puro numerantur lilia uitro,              5
     sic prohibet tenuis gemma latere rosas.
Insilui mersusque uadis luctantia carpsi
     basia: perspicuae plus uetuistis aquae.

Having endured her first nuptial couches and still needing to be placated by her husband,
     Cleopatra had submerged herself in shining pools,
while she fled embraces. But the wave betrayed her as she hid;
     she gleamed, though she was covered by all the waters:
thus lilies, enclosed in pure glass, are counted;              5
     thus a thin gem does not allow roses to lie hidden.
I leapt in and, plunged in the shallows, I plucked struggling kisses:
     perspicuous waters, you forbade too much.

Dum tu lenta nimis diuque quaeris
quis primus tibi quisue sit secundus,
Graium quos epigramma conparauit,
palmam Callimachus, Thalia, de se
facundo dedit ipse Bruttiano. 5
Qui si Cecropio satur lepore
Romanae sale luserit Mineruae,
ille me facias, precor, secundum.

While you, too slow and too long, are asking
who is first for you and who is second,
those whom the epigram has matched among the Greeks,
Callimachus, Thalia, in his own kind gave the palm
to the eloquent Bruttian himself. 5
If he, replete with Cecropian grace,
shall play with the salt of Roman Minerva,
make me, I pray, second to him.

Omnes quas habuit, Fabiane, Lycoris amicas
extulit: uxori fiat amica meae.

All the female friends she had, Fabian, Lycoris
has carried out to burial: let her become a friend to my wife.

Aemula Baianis Altini litora uillis
     et Phaethontei conscia silua rogi,
quaeque Antenoreo Dryadum pulcherrima Fauno
     nupsit ad Euganeos Sola puella lacus,
et tu Ledaeo felix Aquileia Timauo,              5
     hic ubi septenas Cyllarus hausit aquas:
uos eritis nostrae requies portusque senectae,
     si iuris fuerint otia nostra sui.

Rival of Baian villas, Altinum’s shores,
     and the wood privy to Phaethon’s pyre,
and she who, to the Antenorean Faunus, the fairest of the Dryads,
     Sola the girl, was wed at the Euganean lakes,
and you, Aquileia, happy by the Ledaean Timavus,              5
     here where Cyllarus drank the sevenfold waters:
you will be the repose and harbor of my old age,
     if my leisures shall be of their own right.

Quod te mane domi toto non uidimus anno,
uis dicam quantum, Postume, perdiderim?
Tricenos, puto, bis, uicenos ter, puto, nummos.
Ignosces: togulam, Postume, pluris emo.

Because we have not seen you at home in the morning for the whole year,
do you want me to say how much, Postumus, I have lost?
Thirty, I think, twice; twenty, I think, three times—coins.
Pardon me: a little toga, Postumus, I buy for more.

Saepe meos laudare soles, Auguste, libellos.
Inuidus ecce negat: num minus ergo soles?
Quid quod honorato non sola uoce dedisti
non alius poterat quae dare dona mihi?

You are often accustomed to praise my little books, Augustus.
Behold, an envious man denies it: do you therefore do so any less?
What of the fact that, to me honored, you bestowed not with voice alone
gifts which no other could give to me?

Ecce iterum nigros conrodit liuidus ungues: 5
da, Caesar, tanto tu magis, ut doleat.

Behold again the livid one gnaws his black nails: 5
give, Caesar, all the more, so that he may be in pain.

Donasti tenero, Chloe, Luperco
Hispanas Tyriasque coccinasque,
et lotam tepido togam Galaeso,
Indos sardonychas, Scythas zmaragdos,
et centum dominos nouae monetae: 5
et quidquid petit usque et usque donas.
Vae glabraria, uae tibi misella:
nudam te statuet tuus Lupercus.

You have given to tender Lupercus, Chloe,
Spanish and Tyrian scarlets,
and a toga washed in the tepid Galaesus,
Indian sardonyxes, Scythian emeralds,
and a hundred lords of the new coinage; 5
and whatever he asks, again and again you give.
Woe, depilator, woe to you, poor little thing:
your Lupercus will set you up naked.

Obstat, care Pudens, nostris sua turba libellis
     lectoremque frequens lassat et implet opus.
Rara iuuant: primis sic maior gratia pomis,
     hibernae pretium sic meruere rosae;
sic spoliatricem commendat fastus amicam              5
     ianua nec iuuenem semper aperta tenet.
Saepius in libro numeratur Persius uno
     quam leuis in tota Marsus Amazonide.

Their own crowd stands in the way of our little books, dear Pudens,
     and frequent work wearies the reader and fills him up.
Rare things delight: thus there is greater favor for the first apples,
     thus winter roses have earned a price;
thus haughtiness commends the despoiling girlfriend,              5
     nor does a door, always open, hold the young man.
More often is Persius counted in a single book
     than the light Marsus in his whole Amazonid.

Tu quoque de nostris releges quemcumque libellis,
esse puta solum: sic tibi pluris erit. 10

You too, whichever of my little books you re-read,
think it to be alone: thus it will be worth more to you. 10

Baiano procul a lacu, monemus,
piscator, fuge, ne nocens recedas.
sacris piscibus hae natantur undae,
qui norunt dominum manumque lambunt
illam, qua nihil est in orbe maius. 5
Quid quod nomen habent et ad magistri
uocem quisque sui uenit citatus?
Hoc quondam Libys impius profundo,
dum praedam calamo tremente ducit,
raptis luminibus repente caecus 10
captum non potuit uidere piscem,
et nunc sacrilegos perosus hamos
Baianos sedet ad lacus rogator.

Far from the Baian lake, we warn you,
fisherman, flee, lest you depart guilty.
These waves are swum by sacred fishes,
who know their lord and lick the hand
than which nothing is greater in the orb. 5
What of the fact that they have names, and at the voice
of their master each comes when summoned?
For this, once an impious Libyan in the deep,
while he draws his prey with a trembling rod,
his lights snatched away, suddenly blind, 10
could not see the fish he had taken,
and now, hating sacrilegious hooks,
he sits as a petitioner at the Baian lakes.

At tu, dum potes, innocens recede
iactis simplicibus cibis in undas, 15

But you, while you can, recede innocent
with simple food cast into the waves, 15

et pisces uenerare delicatos.

and venerate the delicate fish.

Quod cupis in nostris dicique legique libellis
     et nonnullus honos creditur iste tibi,
ne ualeam si non res est gratissima nobis
     et uolo te chartis inseruisse meis.
Sed tu nomen habes auerso fonte sororum              5
     inpositum, mater quod tibi dura dedit;
quod nec Melpomene, quod nec Polyhymnia possit
     nec pia cum Phoebo dicere Calliope.
Ergo aliquod gratum Musis tibi nomen adopta:
     non semper belle dicitur "Hippodame".              10

That you desire to be spoken of and to be read in our little books,
     and that some honor is credited to you for this,
may I not thrive if this is not a most gratifying thing to us,
     and I wish to have inserted you into my pages.
But you have a name imposed from the sisters’ averse fountain,              5
     which a harsh mother gave to you;
a name which neither Melpomene, nor Polyhymnia could,
     nor devout Calliope with Phoebus, bring herself to say.
Therefore adopt for yourself some name pleasing to the Muses:
     “Hippodame” is not always said beautifully.              10

Et latet et lucet Phaethontide condita gutta,
ut uideatur apis nectare clusa suo.
Dignum tantorum pretium tulit illa laborum:
credibile est ipsam sic uoluisse mori.

And it both lies hidden and shines, the drop enclosed in Phaethontid amber,
so that a bee seems shut in by its own nectar.
She bore a worthy recompense of such great labors:
it is credible that she herself wished to die thus.

Plena laboratis habeas cum scrinia libris,
emittis quare, Sosibiane, nihil?
"Edent heredes" inquis "mea carmina". Quando?
Tempus erat iam te, Sosibiane, legi.

Although you have book-chests full of laboriously wrought books,
why do you, Sosibianus, publish nothing?
"My heirs will publish my poems," you say. When?
It was already time for you, Sosibianus, to be read.

Sordida cum tibi sit, uerum tamen, Attale, dicit,
quisquis te niueam dicit habere togam.

Although it be shabby for you, nevertheless, Attalus, he speaks true,
whoever says that you have a snow-white toga.

Frontibus aduersis molles concurrere dammas
     uidimus et fati sorte iacere pari.
Spectauere canes praedam, stupuitque superbus
     uenator cultro nil superesse suo.
Vnde leues animi tanto caluere furore?              5
     Sic pugnant tauri, sic cecidere uiri.

With foreheads opposed we have seen gentle fallow-deer collide,
     and lie low by fate’s equal lot.
The dogs looked upon the prey, and the proud
     hunter was astonished that nothing was left for his knife.
Whence did light minds grow hot with such fury?             5
     Thus fight bulls, thus have men fallen.

Cana est barba tibi, nigra est coma: tinguere barbam
non potes — haec causa est — et potes, Ole, comam.

Your beard is hoary, your hair is black: to tinge your beard
you cannot — this is the reason — and you can, Ole, your hair.

"Centum Coranus et ducenta Mancinus,
trecenta debet Titius, hoc bis Albinus,
decies Sabinus alterumque Serranus;
ex insulis fundisque tricies soldum,
ex pectore redeunt ter ducena Parmensi": 5
totis diebus, Afer, hoc mihi narras
et teneo melius ista quam meum nomen.
Numeres oportet aliquid, ut pati possim;
cotidianam refice nauseam nummis:
audire gratis, Afer, ista non possum. 10

"Coranus a hundred and Mancinus two hundred,
Titius owes three hundred, Albinus this twice,
Sabinus ten times, and Serranus another;
from the islands and the estates, thirty times a solidus,
by heart there return three two-hundreds to the Parmese": 5
all day long, Afer, you tell me this,
and I know these things better than my own name.
You must count out something, so that I can endure;
refresh the daily nausea with coins:
I cannot listen to these things for free, Afer. 10

Galla, nega: satiatur amor nisi gaudia torquent:
sed noli nimium, Galla, negare diu.

Galla, deny: love is satiated unless joys torment;
but do not, Galla, deny too much, too long.

Argenti genus omne conparasti,
et solus ueteres Myronos artes,
solus Praxitelus manum Scopaeque,
solus Phidiaci toreuma caeli,
solus Mentoreos habes labores. 5
Nec desunt tibi uera Gratiana
nec quae Callaico linuntur auro
nec mensis anaglypta de paternis.
Argentum tamen inter omne miror
quare non habeas, Charine, purum. 10

You have acquired every kind of silver,
and you alone the ancient arts of Myron,
you alone the hand of Praxiteles and of Scopas,
you alone the Phidian chased-work of the graver,
you alone possess the Mentorian labors. 5
Nor are genuine Gratiana lacking for you,
nor those that are smeared with Callaic gold,
nor the anaglypta from your fathers’ tables.
Yet among all the silver I marvel
why you do not have, Charinus, pure silver. 10

Atria Pisonum stabant cum stemmate toto
     et docti Senecae ter numeranda domus,
praetulimus tantis solum te, Postume, regnis:
     pauper eras et eques, sed mihi consul eras.
Tecum ter denas numeraui, Postume, brumas:              5
     communis nobis lectus et unus erat.
Iam donare potes, iam perdere, plenus honorum,
     largus opum: expecto, Postume, quid facias.

The atria of the Pisos stood with their whole pedigree,
     and the house of learned Seneca to be counted thrice,
we preferred you alone, Postumus, to such realms:
     you were poor and a knight, but to me you were a consul.
With you I counted thirty winters, Postumus:              5
     a shared bed was ours, and a single one.
Now you can bestow, now you can ruin, full of honors,
     lavish in wealth: I wait, Postumus, what you will do.

Nil facis et serum est alium mihi quaerere regem.
Hoc, Fortuna, placet? "Postumus inposuit". 10

You do nothing, and it is late for me to seek another king.
Does this, Fortune, please? "Postumus has imposed upon me". 10

Quid recitaturus circumdas uellera collo?
Conueniunt nostris auribus ista magis.

Why, when you are about to recite, do you wrap fleeces around your neck?
These suit our ears more.

Si quis forte mihi possit praestare roganti,
     audi, quem puerum, Flacce, rogare uelim.
Niliacis primum puer hic nascatur in oris:
     nequitias tellus scit dare nulla magis.
Sit niue candidior: namque in mareotide fusca              5
     pulchrior est quanto rarior iste color.

If by chance someone could provide me as I ask,
     listen, what sort of boy, Flaccus, I would wish to request.
First, let this boy be born on Nilotic shores:
     no land knows how to produce mischiefs more.
Let him be whiter than snow: for in the dusky Mareotic              5
     that color is the more beautiful the rarer it is.

Lumina sideribus certent mollesque flagellent
     colla comae: tortas non amo, Flacce, comas.
Frons breuis atque modus leuiter sit naribus uncis,
     Paestanis rubeant aemula labra rosis.              10
Saepe et nolentem cogat nolitque uolentem;
     liberior domino saepe sit ille suo;
et timeat pueros, excludat saepe puellas:
     uir reliquis, uni sit puer ille mihi.
"Iam scio, nec fallis: nam me quoque iudice uerum est.              15

Let the eyes rival the stars and let soft locks lash
     the neck: I do not love twisted locks, Flaccus, curls.
Let the brow be short, and there be due proportion, with nostrils lightly hooked,
     let the lips blush, emulous of the Paestan roses.              10
Let him often compel even the unwilling and refuse the willing;
     let him often be freer than his own master;
and let him fear boys, often shut out girls:
     a man to the rest, let him be a boy to me alone.
"Now I know, and you do not deceive: for even with me as judge, it is true."              15

Talis erat" dices "noster Amazonicus".

Such was," you will say, "our Amazonicus.

Non dixi, Coracine, te cinaedum:
non sum tam temerarius nec audax
nec mendacia qui loquar libenter.
Si dixi, Coracine, te cinaedum,
iratam mihi Pontiae lagonam, 5
iratum calicem mihi Metili:
iuro per Syrios tibi tumores,
iuro per Berecyntios furores.
Quid dixi tamen?

I did not say, Coracinus, that you are a pathic:
I am not so rash nor bold
nor one who would speak lies gladly.
If I said, Coracinus, that you are a pathic,
may Pontia’s flagon be angry with me, 5
may Metilius’s cup be angry with me:
I swear to you by Syrian swellings,
I swear by Berecyntian furies.
But what did I say, however?

Hoc leue et pusillum,
quod notum est, quod et ipse non negabis: 10
dixi te, Coracine, cunnilingum.

This light and petty thing,
which is known, which you yourself will not deny: 10
I said that you, Coracine, are a cunnilinguist.

Hic est pampineis uiridis modo Vesbius umbris,
     presserat hic madidos nobilis uua lacus:
haec iuga quam Nysae colles plus Bacchus amauit;
     hoc nuper Satyri monte dedere choros;
haec Veneris sedes, Lacedaemone gratior illi;              5
     hic locus Herculeo nomine clarus erat.
Cuncta iacent flammis et tristi mersa fauilla:
     nec superi uellent hoc licuisse sibi.

Here is Vesuvius, green just now with vine-leafy shadows,
     here the noble grape had pressed the dripping vats:
these ridges Bacchus loved more than the hills of Nysa;
     on this mountain lately the Satyrs gave their choruses;
this was the seat of Venus, more pleasing to her than Lacedaemon;              5
     this place was renowned with the Herculean name.
All things lie in flames and sunk in gloomy cinder:
     nor would the gods above wish that this had been permitted to themselves.

Haec tibi pro nato plena dat laetus acerra,
     Phoebe, Palatinus munera Parthenius,
ut, qui prima nouo signat quinquennia lustro,
     impleat innumeras Burrus Olympiadas.
Fac rata uota patris: sic te tua diligat arbor,              5
     gaudeat et certa uirginitate soror;
perpetuo sic flore mices, sic denique non sint
     tam longae Bromio quam tibi, Phoebe, comae.

These to you, for his son, the glad censer gives full as gifts,
     Phoebus, the Palatine Parthenius,
so that he, who marks the first quinquennium in a new lustrum,
     Burrus may fulfill countless Olympiads.
Make the father’s vows ratified: thus may your tree love you,              5
     and may your sister rejoice in assured virginity;
thus may you sparkle with perpetual bloom, thus finally let locks not be
     so long for Bromius as for you, Phoebus.

Saturnalia diuitem Sabellum
fecerunt: merito tumet Sabellus,
nec quemquam putat esse praedicatque
inter causidicos beatiorem.
Hos fastus animosque dat Sabello              5
farris semodius fabaeque fresae,
et turis piperisque tres selibrae,
et Lucanica uentre cum Falisco,
et nigri Syra defruti lagona,
et ficus Libyca gelata testa              10
cum bulbis cocleisque caseoque.
Piceno quoque uenit a cliente
parcae cistula non capax oliuae
et crasso figuli polita caelo
septenaria synthesis Sagunti,              15

Saturnalia have made Sabellus rich: deservedly Sabellus swells, nor does he think anyone—and he proclaims it—more blessed among the causidici.
These haughtiness and airs are given to Sabellus by a half‑modius of spelt and of ground beans, 5
and three half‑pounds of incense and pepper, and a Lucanica in a Faliscan casing, and a flagon of dark Syrian defrutum, and Libyan figs in a chilled jar with onions and snails and cheese.
From Picenum too there came from a client a stingy little casket not big enough for an olive, polished with the potter’s coarse graver, and a seven‑piece synthesis of Saguntum, 15

Hispanae luteum rotae toreuma,
et lato uariata mappa clauo.
Saturnalia fructuosiora
annis non habuit decem Sabellus.

the clay relief (toreuma) of a Spanish potter’s wheel,
and a napkin variegated with a broad clavus-Stripe.
More fruitful Saturnalia
Sabellus has not had in ten years.

Encaustus Phaethon tabula tibi pictus in hac est.
Quid tibi uis, dipyrum qui Phaethonta facis?

An encaustic Phaethon is painted for you on this panel.
What do you mean, you who make Phaethon a dipyrum (twice-baked)?

Percidi gaudes, percisus, Papyle, ploras:
cur, quae uis fieri, Papyle, facta doles?
Paenitet obscenae pruriginis? An magis illud
fles, quod percidi, Papyle, desieris?

You rejoice to be cut; cut, Papylus, you weep:
why, Papylus, do you grieve at what you wished to be done?
Do you repent of your obscene itch? Or rather do you weep this—
that, being cut, Papylus, you have ceased from it?

Nescit, crede mihi, quid sint epigrammata, Flacce,
     qui tantum lusus illa iocosque uocat.
Ille magis ludit qui scribit prandia saeui
     Tereos aut cenam, crude Thyesta, tuam,
aut puero liquidas aptantem Daedalon alas,              5
     pascentem Siculas aut Polyphemon ouis.
A nostris procul est omnis uesica libellis,
     Musa nec insano syrmate nostra tumet.

He does not know, believe me, what epigrams are, Flaccus,
     who calls them only pastimes and jests.
That man plays more who writes of the luncheons of savage
     Tereus, or your dinner, cruel Thyestes,
or of Daedalus fitting liquid wings to the boy,              5
     or Polyphemus herding Sicilian sheep.
All puffed-up bombast is far from our little books,
     nor does our Muse swell in a mad trailing robe.

"Illa tamen laudant omnes, mirantur, adorant".
Confiteor: laudant illa, sed ista legunt. 10

"Those, however, everyone praises, they marvel, they adore."
I confess: they praise those, but these they read. 10

Quid me, Thai, senem subinde dicis?
Nemo est, Thai, senex ad irrumandum.

Why do you, Thai, keep calling me an old man?
No one, Thai, is too old for irrumation.

Cum tibi non essent sex milia, Caeciliane,
     ingenti late uectus es hexaphoro:
postquam bis decies tribuit dea caeca sinumque
     ruperunt nummi, factus es, ecce, pedes.
Quid tibi pro meritis et tantis laudibus optem?              5
     Di reddant sellam, Caeciliane, tibi.

When you did not have six thousand, Caecilianus,
     you were carried far and wide in an immense six-bearer litter;
after the blind goddess bestowed twenty thousand and
     the coins burst your purse, behold, you became a pedestrian.
What should I wish for you in return for your deserts and such great praises?              5
     May the gods give the sedan-chair back to you, Caecilianus.

Gestari iunctis nisi desinis, Hedyle, capris,
qui modo ficus eras, iam caprificus eris.

Unless you stop being carried by yoked goats, Hedyle,
you who just now were a fig will soon be a caprifig.

Hunc, quem saepe uides intra penetralia nostrae
     Pallados et templi limina, Cosme, noui
cum baculo peraque senem, cui cana putrisque
     stat coma et in pectus sordida barba cadit,
cerea quem nudi tegit uxor abolla grabati,              5
     cui dat latratos obuia turba cibos,
esse putas Cynicum deceptus imagine ficta:
     non est hic Cynicus, Cosme: quid ergo? Canis.

This man, whom you often see within the penetralia of our Pallas and the thresholds of the temple, Cosmus, I know—
     an old man with staff and wallet, whose hoary and putrid hair stands, and a sordid beard falls on his breast,
whom a ceraceous abolla, the wife of a naked pallet, covers,              5
     to whom the passing throng gives food barked for—
you think him a Cynic, deceived by a feigned image:
     this is not a Cynic, Cosmus: what then? A Dog.

O cui Tarpeias licuit contingere quercus
     et meritas prima cingere fronde comas,
si sapis, utaris totis, Colline, diebus
     extremumque tibi semper adesse putes.
Lanificas nulli tres exorare puellas              5
     contigit: obseruant quem statuere diem.
Diuitior Crispo, Thrasea constantior ipso,
     lautior et nitido sis Meliore licet:
nil adicit penso Lachesis, fusosque sororum
     explicat et semper de tribus una secat.              10

O you to whom it was permitted to touch the Tarpeian oaks
     and to be the first to gird your locks with deserved foliage,
if you are wise, use your days entire, Colline,
     and suppose that the last is always at hand for you.
To no one has it fallen to prevail upon the three wool-working girls:              5
     they observe the day which they have set.
Though you be richer than Crispus, more constant than Thrasea himself,
     and more luxurious and than gleaming Melior:
Lachesis adds nothing to the weighed task, and she unrolls the sisters’ spindles,
     and always one of the three cuts.              10

Luci, gloria temporum tuorum,
qui Caium ueterem Tagumque nostrum
Arpis cedere non sinis disertis,
Argiuas generatus inter urbes
Thebas carmine cantet aut Mycenas,              5
aut claram Rhodon aut libidinosae
Ledaeas Lacedaemonos plaestras:
nos Celtis genitos et ex Hiberis
nostrae nomina duriora terrae
grato non pudeat referre uersu:              10
saeuo Bilbilin optimam metallo,
quae uincit Chalypasque Noricosque,
et ferro Plateam suo sonantem,
quam fluctu tenui, sed inquieto
armorum Salo temperator ambit,              15

LUCiUS, glory of your times,
you who do not allow old Gaius and our Tagus
to yield to eloquent Arpi,
one born among Argive cities
let him sing in song Thebes or Mycenae,              5
or bright Rhodes or the palaestras
of libidinous Leda’s Lacedaemon:
let it not shame us, born of Celts and from the Hiberians,
to recount the rather harsher names of our land
in grateful verse:              10
Bilbilis, best in savage metal,
which conquers the Chalybes and the Noricans,
and Platea resounding with its own iron,
which the Salo, temperer of arms,
encircles with a slender but restless wave,              15

Tutelamque chorosque Rixa marum,
et conuiuia festa Carduarum,
et textis Peterin rosis rubentem,
atque antiqua patrum theatra Rigas,
et certos iaculo leui Silaos, 20
Turgontique lacus Turasiaeque,
et parua uada pura Tuetonissae,
et sanctum Buradonis ilicetum,
per quod uel piger ambulat uiator,
et quae fortibus excolit iuuencis 25
curuae Manlius arua Vatiuescae.
Haec tam rustica, delicate lector,
rides nomina? Rideas licebit,
haec tam rustica malo quam Butuntus.

Tutela and the choruses of the men of Rixa,
and the festal banquets of the Carduae,
and Peteris blushing red with woven roses,
and Rigae with the ancient theatres of the fathers,
and the Silae unerring with the light javelin, 20
and the lakes of Turgontia and of Turasia,
and the small, pure shallows of the Tuetonissa,
and the sacred ilex-grove of Burado,
through which even a sluggish traveler walks,
and the fields of curving Vatiuesca which Manlius cultivates with sturdy bullocks. 25
Do you, delicate reader, laugh at these so rustic names? You may laugh; I prefer these so rustic things to Butuntus.

Munera quod senibus uiduisque ingentia mittis,
     uis te munificum, Gargiliane, uocem?
sordidius nihil est, nihil est te spurcius uno,
     qui potes insidias dona uocare tuas:
sic auidis fallax indulget piscibus hamus,              5
     callida sic stultas decipit esca feras.
Quid sit largiri, quid sit donare docebo,
     si nescis: dona, Gargiliane, mihi.

Because you send enormous gifts to old men and widows,
     do you want me to call you munificent, Gargilianus?
Nothing is more sordid, nothing is fouler than you alone,
     you who can call your snares your “gifts”:
thus the deceitful hook indulges the greedy fishes,              5
     so the cunning bait deceives foolish wild beasts.
What it is to show largess, what it is to donate, I will teach you,
     if you don’t know: donate, Gargilianus, to me.

Dum nos blanda tenent lasciui stagna Lucrini
     et quae pumiceis fontibus antra calent,
tu colis Argei regnum, Faustine, coloni,
     quo te bis decimus ducit ab urbe lapis.
Horrida sed feruent Nemeaei pectora monstri,              5
     nec satis est Baias igne calere suo.
Ergo sacri fontes et litora grata ualete,
     Nympharum pariter Nereidumque domus.

While the blandishing pools of lascivious Lucrine hold us,
     and the caves which grow warm with pumiceous springs,
you cultivate, Faustinus, the realm of the Argive colonist,
     whither the twentieth milestone leads you from the City.
But the bristling breasts of the Nemean monster seethe,              5
     nor is it enough for Baiae to be hot with its own fire.
Therefore, farewell, sacred springs and welcome shores,
     home equally of the Nymphs and of the Nereids.

Herculeos colles gelida uos uincite bruma,
nunc Tiburtinis cedite frigoribus. 10

Gelid winter, conquer the Herculean hills,
now yield to the Tiburtine frosts. 10

In tenebris luges amissum, Galla, maritum:
nam plorare pudet te, puto, Galla, uirum.

In darkness you mourn your lost husband, Galla:
for to weep for a man, I think, Galla, shames you.

Flentibus Heliadum ramis dum uipera repit,
     fluxit in obstantem sucina gemma feram:
quae dum miratur pingui se rore teneri,
     concreto reguit uincta repente gelu.
Ne tibi regali placeas, Cleopatra, sepulcro,              5
     uipera si tumulo nobiliore iacet.

While a viper crawls as the branches of the Heliades weep,
     an amber gem flowed onto the beast that stood in the way:
as she marvels that she is held by rich dew,
     bound, she stiffened suddenly as the frost congealed.
Do not take pleasure in your royal sepulcher, Cleopatra,              5
     if a viper lies in a nobler tomb.

Ardea solstitio Castranaque rura petantur
     quique Cleonaeo sidere feruet ager,
cum Tiburtinas damnet Curiatius auras
     inter laudatas ad Styga missus aquas.
Nullo fata loco possis excludere: cum mors              5
     uenerit, in medio Tibure Sardinia est.

Let Ardea at the solstice and the Castran fields be sought,
     and the field which burns under the Cleonaean constellation,
when Curiatius condemns the Tiburtine airs,
     sent to the Styx among the praised waters.
You cannot exclude the Fates in any place: when death              5
     has come, in the midst of Tibur there is Sardinia.

Donasse amicum tibi ducenta, Mancine,
nuper superbo laetus ore iactasti.
Quartus dies est, in schola poetarum
dum fabulamur, milibus decem dixti
emptas lacernas munus esse Pompullae, 5
sardonycha uerum lineisque ter cinctum
duasque similes fluctibus maris gemmas
dedisse Bassam Caeliamque iurasti.
Here de theatro, Pollione cantante,
cum subito abires, dum fugis, loquebaris, 10
hereditatis tibi trecenta uenisse,
et mane centum, et post meridie centum.

That a friend had donated to you two hundred, Mancinus,
lately you boasted, glad with a proud face.
It is the fourth day; in the school of poets
while we gossip, you said for ten thousand
cloaks bought to be a gift for Pompulla, 5
a sardonyx indeed, thrice-banded with lines,
and two gems similar to the waves of the sea
you swore you had given to Bassa and Caelia.
Yesterday from the theatre, while Pollio was singing,
when you suddenly were going away, as you flee, you kept saying, 10
that three hundred had come to you by an inheritance,
and in the morning a hundred, and after midday a hundred.

Quid tibi sodales fecimus mali tantum?
Miserere iam, crudelis, et sile tandem;
aut, si tacere lingua non potest ista, 15

What so great an evil have we, your companions, done to you?
Have mercy now, cruel one, and be silent at last;
or, if that tongue cannot be silent, 15

aliquando narra quod uelimus audire.

for once tell what we would like to hear.

Tibur in Herculeum migrauit nigra Lycoris,
omnia dum fieri candida credit ibi.

To Tibur, into the Herculean precinct, dark Lycoris has migrated,
while she believes that everything there becomes white.

Dum petit a Baulis mater Caerellia Baias,
occidit insani crimine mersa freti.
Gloria quanta perit uobis! Haec monstra Neroni
nec iussae quondam praestiteratis, aquae.

While mother Caerellia seeks Baiae from Bauli,
she perishes, submerged by the crime of the insane strait.
What great glory perishes for you! Such monsters not even once, when ordered by Nero,
had you furnished, O waters.

Iuli iugera pauca Martialis
hortis Hesperidum beatiora
longo Ianiculi iugo recumbunt:
lati collibus imminent recessus,
et planus modico tumore uertex              5
caelo perfruitur sereniore,
et curuas nebula tegente ualles
solus luce nitet peculiari:
puris leniter admouentur astris
celsae culmina delicata uillae.              10
Hinc septem dominos uidere montis
et totam licet aestimare Romam,
Albanos quoque Tusculosque colles
et quodcumque iacet sub urbe frigus,
Fidenas ueteres breuesque Rubras,              15

The few iugera of Julius Martial,
more blessed than the gardens of the Hesperides,
recline upon the long ridge of the Janiculum:
broad recesses overhang the hills,
and a level summit with modest swelling              5
enjoys a more serene sky,
and, with mist veiling the curved valleys,
it alone gleams with a peculiar light:
to the pure stars are gently drawn
the delicate summits of the lofty villa.              10
From here you may see the seven lords of the hills
and may survey all Rome,
the Alban and Tusculan hills as well,
and whatever chill lies beneath the city,
ancient Fidenae and little Rubrae,              15

et quod uirgineo cruore gaudet
Annae pomiferum nemus Perennae.
Illinc Flaminiae Salariaeque
gestator patet essedo tacente,
ne blando rota sit molesta somno,              20
quem nec rumpere nauticum celeuma
nec clamor ualet helciariorum,
cum sit tam prope Muluius sacrumque
lapsae per Tiberim uolent carinae.
Hoc rus, seu potius domus uocanda est,              25
commendat dominus: tuam putabis,
tam non inuida tamque liberalis,
tam comi patet hospitalitate:
credas Alcinoi pios Penates
aut facti modo diuitis Molorchi.              30

and the pomiferous grove of Anna Perenna that rejoices in virginal blood.
From there to the Flaminian and the Salarian
the traveler lies open with the essedum silent,
lest the wheel be troublesome to beguiling sleep,              20
which neither the nautical celeusma can break
nor the clamor of the haulers avails to shatter,
since the Mulvian is so near and the sacred
keels, gliding along the Tiber, fly.
This farm—or rather it ought to be called a house—              25
is commended by its master: you will think it yours,
so ungrudging and so liberal,
so open in kindly hospitality:
you would think them the pious Penates of Alcinous
or of Molorchus only just now become rich.              30

Vos nunc omnia parua qui putatis,
centeno gelidum ligone Tibur
uel Praeneste domate pendulamque
uni dedite Setiam colono,
dum me iudice praeferantur istis 35
Iuli iugera pauca Martialis.

You who now think everything small,
tame chill Tibur with a hundred hoes,
or subdue Praeneste, and hand over pendulous
Setia to a single tenant-farmer,
so long as, with me as judge, there be preferred to these 35
the few iugera of Julius Martialis.

Oculo Philaenis semper altero plorat.
Quo fiat istud quaeritis modo? Lusca est.

Philaenis always weeps with one eye.
You ask in what way that happens? She is one‑eyed.

Egisti uitam semper, Line, municipalem,
     qua nihil omnino uilius esse potest.
Idibus et raris togula est excussa Kalendis,
     duxit et aestates synthesis una decem.
Saltus aprum, campus leporem tibi misit inemptum,              5
     silua grauis turdos exagitata dedit,
captus flumineo uenit de gurgite piscis,
     uina ruber fudit non peregrina cadus.

You have always lived, Line, a municipal life,
     than which nothing at all can be cheaper.
On the Ides and on rare Kalends the little toga was shaken out,
     and a single synthesis carried you through ten summers.
The woodland sent you a boar, the plain a hare, unbought,              5
     the dense wood, when driven, gave thrushes,
a fish came, caught, from the river whirlpool,
     a red cask poured wines not foreign.

Nec tener Argolica missus de gente minister,
     sed stetit inculti rustica turba foci.              10
Vilica uel duri conpressa est nupta coloni,
     incaluit quotiens saucia uena mero.
Nec nocuit tectis ignis nec Sirius agris,
     nec mersa est pelago nec fuit ulla ratis.
Subposita est blando numquam tibi tessera talo,              15

Nor was a tender attendant sent from the Argolic race,
     but a rustic crowd stood at the unkempt hearth.              10
The farm-mistress or the wife of a tough farmer was pressed,
     as often as the wounded vein grew hot with unmixed wine.
Nor did fire harm the roofs nor Sirius the fields,
     nor was any raft submerged in the sea, nor was there any boat.
Never was a die slipped beneath your coaxing ankle,              15

alea sed parcae sola fuere nuces.
Dic ubi sit decies, mater quod auara reliquit.
Nusquam est: fecisti rem, Line, difficilem.

but frugal nuts alone were your dice.
Tell where the million is, which your avaricious mother left.
It is nowhere: you have achieved a difficult feat, Line.

Praetorem pauper centum sestertia Gaurus
     orabat cana notus amicitia,
dicebatque suis haec tantum desse trecentis,
     ut posset domino plaudere iustus eques.
Praetor ait: "Scis me Scorpo Thalloque daturum,              5
     atque utinam centum milia sola darem."
Ah! pudet ingratae, pudet ah! male diuitis arcae.
     Quod non das equiti, uis dare, praetor, equo?

The poor Gaurus was begging the praetor for a hundred sestertia,
     known for a hoary friendship;
and he said that only this was lacking to his three hundred (thousand),
     so that he might be able, as a rightful eques, to applaud his patron.
The praetor says: “You know I shall give to Scorpus and to Thallus,              5
     and would that I gave only one hundred thousand.”
Ah! shame of the ungrateful, ah! shame of the badly rich coffer.
     What you do not give to the eques, do you wish to give, praetor, to the horse?

Inuitas centum quadrantibus et bene cenas.
Vt cenem inuitor, Sexte, an ut inuideam?

You invite a hundred with quarter-coins, and you dine well.
Am I invited to dine, Sextus, or to envy?

Tu Setina quidem semper uel Massica ponis,
Papyle, sed rumor tam bona uina negat:
diceris hac factus caelebs quater esse lagona.
Nec puto nec credo, Papyle, nec sitio.

You always set out Setine or even Massic, Papylus,
but rumor denies such good wines:
you are said by this flagon to have been made celibate four times.
I neither suppose nor believe it, Papylus—nor am I thirsty.

Nihil Ammiano praeter aridam restem
moriens reliquit ultimis pater ceris.
Fieri putaret posse quis, Marulline,
ut Ammianus mortuum patrem nollet?

Dying, the father left to Ammianus nothing except a dry rope
in his final wax tablets.
Who would think it could happen, Marullinus,
that Ammianus would not want his father dead?

Quaero diu totam, Safroni Rufe, per urbem,
si qua puella neget: nulla puella negat.
Tamquam fas non sit, tamquam sit turpe negare,
tamquam non liceat, nulla puella negat.
Casta igitur nulla est?

I search for a long time through the whole city, Safronius Rufus,
if any girl would say no: no girl says no.
As though it were not lawful, as though it were shameful to deny,
as though it were not licit, no girl says no.
So then is no girl chaste?

Sunt castae mille. Quid ergo 5
casta facit? Non dat, non tamen illa negat.

There are a thousand chaste. What then 5
makes her chaste? She does not give, yet she does not refuse.

Exigis ut donem nostros tibi, Quinte, libellos.
Non habeo, sed habet bibliopola Tryphon.
"Aes dabo pro nugis et emam tua carmina sanus?

You demand that I give my little books to you, Quintus.
I do not have them, but the bibliopole Tryphon has them.
"Shall I give bronze for trifles and, being sane, buy your poems?

Non, inquis, faciam tam fatue." Nec ego.

"No," you say, "I will not act so foolishly." Nor I.

Cum grauis extremas Vestinus duceret horas
     et iam per Stygias esset iturus aquas,
ultima uoluentis orauit pensa sorores,
     ut traherent parua stamina pulla mora,
iam sibi defunctus caris dum uiuit amicis.              5
     Mouerunt tetricas tam pia uota deas.
Tunc largas partitus opes a luce recessit,
     seque mori post hoc credidit ille senem.

When the grievously ill Vestinus was drawing out his final hours,
     and was now about to go through the Stygian waters,
he prayed the sisters who roll the last tasks,
     that they might draw the small threads with sable delay,
already done with himself, while he lives for his dear friends.              5
     So pious vows moved the grim goddesses.
Then, having divided his ample wealth, he withdrew from the light,
     and he believed that after this he was dying an old man.

Aspicis inbelles temptent quam fortia dammae
proelia? Tam timidus quanta sit ira feris?
In mortem paruis concurrere frontibus ardent.

Do you see how the unwarlike does attempt such mighty
battles? So timid—how great is the anger in wild beasts?
They burn to clash together to the death with their small foreheads.

Vis, Caesar, dammis parcere? Mitte canes.

Do you wish, Caesar, to spare the does? Send the dogs.

O felix animo, felix, Nigrina, marito,
     atque inter Latias gloria prima nurus:
te patrios miscere iuuat cum coniuge census,
     gaudentem socio participique uiro.
Arserit Euhadne flammis iniecta mariti,              5
     nec minor Alcestin fama sub astra ferat;
tu melius. Certo meruisti pignore uitae
     ut tibi non esset morte probandus amor.

O happy in spirit, happy, Nigrina, in your husband,
     and the foremost glory among Latin daughters-in-law:
it delights you to mingle ancestral census with your consort,
     rejoicing in a partner and participant husband.
Euhadne may have burned, cast upon her husband's flames,              5
     nor let Alcestis’ fame bear her less to the stars;
you do better. By a sure pledge of life you have deserved
     that for you love need not be proved by death.

Milia misisti mihi sex bis sena petenti:
ut bis sena feram, bis duodena petam.

You sent me six thousand, though I asked for twice-six;
so that I may receive twice-six, I will ask for twice-twelve.

Numquam diuitias deos rogaui
contentus modicis meoque laetus:
paupertas, ueniam dabis, recede.
Causast quae subiti nouique uoti?
Pendentem uolo Zoilum uidere. 5

Never have I asked the gods for riches,
content with modest things and glad with my own:
Poverty, you will grant pardon—recede.
What is the cause of this sudden and novel vow?
I want to see Zoilus hanging. 5

Condita cum tibi sit iam sexagensima messis
     et facies multo splendeat alba pilo,
discurris tota uagus urbe, nec ulla cathedra est
     cui non mane feras inrequietus Haue;
et sine te nulli fas est prodire tribuno,              5
     nec caret officio consul uterque tuo;
et sacro decies repetis Palatia cliuo
     Sigerosque meros Partheniosque sonas.
Haec faciant sane iuuenes: deformius, Afer,
     omnino nihil est ardalione sene.              10

When already your sixtieth harvest has been stored,
     and your face glistens very white with much hair,
you dash about the whole city, a wanderer, nor is there any chair
     to which in the morning you do not, unresting, carry “Hail”;
and without you it is lawful for no tribune to go forth,              5
     nor does either consul lack your service;
and ten times you revisit the Palatine by the sacred slope,
     and you sound out pure “Sigeri” and “Parthenii.”
Let the young men indeed do these things: more ill-favored, Afer,
     there is absolutely nothing than an old busybody-ardalio.              10

Hospes eras nostri semper, Matho, Tiburtini.
Hoc emis. Inposui: rus tibi uendo tuum.

You were always a guest of my Tiburtine estate, Matho.
This is what you are buying. I have tricked you: I am selling you your own estate.

Declamas in febre, Maron: hanc esse phrenesin
     si nescis, non es sanus, amice Maron.
Declamas aeger, declamas hemitritaeos:
     si sudare aliter non potes, est ratio.
"Magna tamen res est". Erras; cum uiscera febris              5
     exurit, res est magna tacere, Maron.

You declaim in a fever, Maron: if you do not know this to be phrenesis,
     you are not sane, friend Maron. You declaim sick, you declaim in hemitritaean fevers:
     if you cannot sweat otherwise, there is a rationale. “Yet it is a great thing.” You are wrong; when the fever burns the vitals              5
     the great thing is to be silent, Maron.

Epigramma nostrum cum Fabulla legisset,
negare nullam quo queror puellarum,
semel rogata bisque terque neglexit
preces amantis. Iam, Fabulla, promitte:
negare iussi, pernegare non iussi. 5

When Fabulla had read our epigram,
in which I complain that none of the girls says no,
asked once and twice and thrice she neglected
the lover’s prayers. Now, Fabulla, promise:
I ordered you to deny; I did not order you to deny utterly. 5

Hos quoque commenda Venuleio, Rufe, libellos,
     inputet et nobis otia parua roga,
immemor et paulum curarum operumque suorum
     non tetrica nugas exigat aure meas.
Sed nec post primum legat haec summumue trientem,              5
     sed sua cum medius proelia Bacchus amat.
Si nimis est legisse duos, tibi charta plicetur
     altera: diuisum sic breue fiet opus.

Entrust these little books also to Venuleius, Rufus,
     and ask that he credit us with small leisures,
and, forgetful for a little of his cares and works,
     let him not weigh my trifles with a grim ear.
But let him not read these right after the first or the brimful third‑cup,              5
     but when mid‑course Bacchus loves his own battles.
If it is too much to have read two, let another sheet be folded for you:
     thus, divided, the brief work will be made.

Securo nihil est te, Naeuole, peius; eodem
     sollicito nihil est, Naeuole, te melius.
Securus nullum resalutas, despicis omnes,
     nec quisquam liber nec tibi natus homo est:
sollicitus donas, dominum regemque salutas,              5
     inuitas. Esto, Naeuole, sollicitus.

When secure, nothing is worse than you, Naevole; the same man,
     when solicitous, nothing is better than you, Naevole.
Secure, you return no greeting, you despise everyone,
     and to you no one is freeborn, nor even a man:
solicitous, you give gifts, you salute lord and king,              5
     you invite. Be solicitous, Naevole.

Non est in populo nec urbe tota
a se Thaida qui probet fututam,
cum multi cupiant rogentque multi.
Tam casta est, rogo, Thais? Immo fellat.

There is no one in the populace nor in the whole city
who can prove that he himself has fucked Thais,
though many desire it and many beg.
Is Thais so chaste, I ask? Rather, she fellates.

Nos bibimus uitro, tu murra, Pontice. Quare?
Prodat perspicuus ne duo uina calix.

We drink from glass; you from myrrhine, Ponticus. Why?
Lest a perspicuous chalice betray the two wines.

Si uis auribus Atticis probari,
exhortor moneoque te, libelle,
ut docto placeas Apollinari:
nil exactius eruditiusque est,
sed nec candidius benigniusque. 5
Si te pectore, si tenebit ore,
nec rhonchos metues maligniorum,
nec scombris tunicas dabis molestas:
si damnauerit, ad salariorum
curras scrinia protinus licebit, 10
inuersa pueris arande charta.

If you wish to be approved by Attic ears,
I exhort and admonish you, little book,
to please the learned Apollinaris:
nothing is more exact and more erudite,
nor more candid and more benign. 5
If he will hold you in his breast, if upon his lips,
you will not fear the snorts of the more malicious,
nor will you give troublesome tunics to the mackerel:
if he condemns you, to the desks of the salaried men
you may straightway run, the sheet turned over for the boys to plough. 10

Infantem secum semper tua Bassa, Fabulle,
conlocat et lusus deliciasque uocat,
et, quo mireris magis, infantaria non est.
Ergo quid in causa est? Pedere Bassa solet.

Your Bassa, Fabullus, always places an infant with her,
and calls it her games and her delights,
and, what will make you marvel the more, she is no nursery-maid.
So what is the reason? Bassa is wont to fart.

Nulla remisisti paruo pro munere dona,
     et iam Saturni quinque fuere dies.
Ergo nec argenti sex scripula Septiciam
     missa nec a querulo mappa cliente fuit,
Antipolitani nec quae de sanguine thynni              5
     testa rubet, nec quae cottana parua gerit,
nec rugosarum uimen breue Picernarum,
     dicere te posses ut meminisse mei!
Decipies alios uerbis uoltuque benigno,
     nam mihi iam notus dissimulator eris.              10

You have remitted no gifts in return for a small present,
     and already there have been five days of Saturnalia.
Therefore not even six scripula of Septician silver
     were sent, nor a napkin from a querulous client,
nor the Antipolitan jar that reddens with the blood of tunny              5
     nor the one that bears little cottana,
nor the short wicker-basket of wrinkled Picernae,
     so that you could say you had remembered me!
You will deceive others with benign words and countenance,
     for to me you will now be a well-known dissimulator.              10

Ohe, iam satis est, ohe, libelle,
iam peruenimus usque ad umbilicos.
Tu procedere adhuc et ire quaeris,
nec summa potes in schida teneri,
sic tamquam tibi res peracta non sit, 5
quae prima quoque pagina peracta est.
Iam lector queriturque deficitque,
iam librarius hoc et ipse dicit
"Ohe, iam satis est, ohe, libelle."

Hey, now it is enough, hey, little book,
now we have come all the way to the umbilici.
You seek to proceed still and to go on,
nor can you be held on the top sheet,
just as if the affair were not completed for you, 5
when even the first page is completed.
Now the reader both complains and grows faint,
now the copyist himself says this too:
"Hey, now it is enough, hey, little book."