Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS
LXXXV
THE TRUTH REVEALED
POOR Marius! the auctioneer,
Who glibly spoke as he was bidden
To keep his client's credit clear,
Revealed the truth he should have hidden.
'Observe,' said he ' this favoured spot
The land well tilled, the outlook pretty,
In short an eligible lot
Conveniently near the city.
'Pray, gentlemen, do not suppose
The sale is forced-that's not suggested;
The owner not a penny owes,
Nay, he has money well invested.
'Does some one ask what makes him sell?
Mere fancy that it is not healthy;
He's lost slaves, cattle, crops-and well,
You know the whims that move the wealthy.'
I hear that no one cared to buySince none was loser by professionAnd Marius still wonders why
The land remains in his possession.
* LXXXVI
NEAR NEIGHBOURS
You think that I'm a happy man
With Novius so near me,
And when I lift my finger can
Get him at once to cheer me.
The truth is he's as far away
As is my other friend
Who rules Syene's land to-day
Where Nile's blue waters end.
I never meet him at a meal,
Nor find his door ajar,
There's not a soul in Rome, I feel,
So near and yet so far.
Well, either I or he must move
Away from here, that's plain.
When we're not neighbours, it may prove
That we shall meet again.
28