Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK TWELVE
XXXIX
THE PRETTY FELLOW
I KNOW your name is Prettyman; but then,
My Prettyman, I hate all pretty men,
For pretty petty poppets are accurst,
And of the lot you, Prettyman, are worst.
'Twere pretty conduct should you grant one boonFade Prettyman, and do it pretty soon!
* XL
TO PONTILIANUS
I DRINK when you're drinking, I sing when you sing,
I praise your poor verse, I believe anything,
You beat me at draughts, and I feign not to hear
When the sound of your wind strikes me full in the ear.
And yet for all this I get nothing. You say'There's my will '. I don't want it-but please pass away.
* XLI
TO TUCCA
IT does not suffice you to be a gourmet:
You want to be known and to hear what men say.
* XLII
A FASHIONABLE MARRIAGE
As when a virgin joins a husband's side,
So Afer took Callistratus for bride.
The torches shone, his face was hid by veil,
Nor did the marriage song-' Talassus '-fail.
A dowry too was given, and men say
Rome now is waiting for accouchement-day.
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