Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS
And then, these dainties done, if Bacchus please
To stir new craving, I can satisfy it
With fine, fat olives from Picenum's trees,
Or lupins, or parched peas. I don't deny it
Is a poor dinner; yet to lie at ease
Nor need to hear small gossip, or supply it,
Is something gained: and here you need not wear
The jaded diner's artificial air.
I'll read no heavy tome when dinner's done,
Nor strive by any dancer's aid to quell you,
Those Spanish jades are minxes, every one,
Their artful attitudes would but repel you,
But Condylus shall pipe-and there is none
More skilled than he-perhaps I ought to tell you
That you'll sit next the lady you adore.
Whom shall we ask to make a cosy four?
* LXXIX
TO ZOILUS
FROM the table eleven times you must get up
And appear in eleven fresh gowns while we sup;
For you fear, I suppose, that a draught while you sweat
Will give you a cold if your clothes should be wet:
Why do I by your side suffer no such distress?
Well, it's cooling perhaps to have only one dress.
* LXXX
TO SE VER US
I BEG yOU give me of your treasure,
Part of an hour when you're at leisure,
And while you read these trifles light
A debit in your ledger write.
' 'Tis hard my holiday to spoil '
Nay, prithee friend, endure the toil.
For if Secundus too will read
This little booklet, then indeed-I hope I don't presume too much'Twill owe it to your critic touch
That I, like Sisyphus in pain,
Shall not find all my trouble vain,
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