Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK NINE

* XCI
ON DOMITIA4N'S BANQUETING-HALL
IF I were called to diverse feasts above,
This way by Caesar and that way by Jove,
Though heaven were near, the palace far away,
These were the words that to the gods I'ld say' Seek some one else to be the Thunderer's guest.
I have my Jove on earth: je suis, je reste.'
XCII
TRUE SERVITUDE
'How easy live the free,' you say, and brood
Upon your long but easy servitude.
See Gaius tossing on his downy bed;
Your sleep's unbroken tho' the couch be rude;
He pays his call ere chilly dawn be red,
You need not call on him, you sleep instead;
He's deep in debt, hears many a summons grim
From creditors that you need never dread,
You might be tortured at your master's whim;
Far worse the gout that racks his every limb;
Think of the morning qualms, his vicious moods,
Would you for thrice his freedom change with him?
XCIII
A TOAST TO DOMITIAN
POUR out six measures from the older cask;
Why dally so? Nay, pour the deathless wine.
'What holy name has letters six, you ask,
Save Caesar'? Aye my thought you can divine;
So in my wreath ten lovely roses twine
For him the builder of the Flavian fane
And give me kisses ten to be a sign
That as a god Sarmaticus doth reign.
29I