Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS
But you are qualified-and more,
For in that distant home
You'll find your wife has borne you four
Whilst you were here in Rome.
* XXXII
ARETULLA'S DOVE
THROUGH the still air to Aretulla's breast
A dove came gliding down and sank to rest.
'Twas chance, you say: yet there the bird remained
And from its proffered liberty refrained.
It may be that a sister's pious love
Avails the ruler of this world to move,
And from Sardinia's shore, the exile's home,
The dove with news of pardon now has come.
* XXXIII
ON RECEIVING 4 PRESENT OF A VERY THIN
METAL CUP
A PIECE of gold leaf from your magistrate's crown
You send me, and say-' A gold tankard write down.'
It coated the floor of the stage, I should say,
And by the red saffron was washed quite away.
Or perhaps on the leg of your couch it appeared,
Till a nail scraped it off, for 'twas only veneered.
It shakes when a gnat in the distance goes by,
And is moved by the wing of a small butterfly.
The heat of a lamp makes it dance about neatly,
And to dip it in wine would dissolve it completely.
So those small nuts are coated which mean clients bring
\With a sixpence perhaps as New Year's offering.
Bean tendrils are of thicker filaments spun,
A lily's leaf coarser that fades in the sun.
More dense stands the chalk on old Fabia's face,
More dense are the bubbles upon a mill-race,
More solid the fringe-nets that Roman girls wear,
And the German pomade which dyes yellow their hair.
A skin like to this has a chick still unhatched,
And with spots so transparent our dandies go patched.
Why send me a tankard? A ladle or spoon
Would be surely sufficient- I'm speaking too soon:
A nice little shell you my present might call,
Or what is still cheaper-send nothing at all.
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