Selected epigrams of Martial. Englished by Thomas May Esquire

Quinque satis fuerant—Epig. 3. Lib. 8.

FIve Books, or sixe, or seven, had bin ••now, Nay, Muse, too much; why further wantonst thou? Here ••nd for shame; fame now can adde no grace To me; my Bookes are read in every place. And when Licinius, and Messalla's high, Rich marble Towers in ruin'd dust shall lye, I shall be read, and strangers every where Shall to their farthest homes my Verses bear••. Thus I, when thus the ninth Muse answer'd me, Whose hair & clothes still wet with oyntments be, Canst thou, ingratefull man, thy toyes forsake?

What better course (speake idler) canst thou take? Will thy low Verse ere fit the Tragicke vaine? Or thunder Warres in an Heroicke straine? That Schoole-masters, till they be hoarse, may read Thy lines, & Girles & Boyes thy name may dread? Let men more grave and sowre such Verses write, Who do by Candles spend the toylesome night; With Roman salt thy merry Bookes fill thou, Where men their maners may both read & know. What though thou seeme to pipe on humble reeds, Whilst others Trumpets thy small Pipe exceeds?