Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK ONE

XCIII
COMRADES
HERE sleeps Aquinus-to his friend at rest
Death doth restore him,
That friend who to the mansions of the blest
Had gone before him.
Each was a legion's captain; in the fight
'Twas his to lead it;
But each has won a record yet more brightHere may'st thou read it.
They lived in honour's hallowed bond, and died
That bond unparted;
No common thought of envy could divide
The loyal-hearted.
* XCIV
ON AN OLD ACTRESS
WHEN you had lovers by the score
You never knew your part.
But now that lovers are no more,
'Tis learnt by heart.
XCV
TO A ELIUS
WHILE others plead, you bawl and shriekThe purpose we discern;
The bribes men give you not to speak
Are all the fees you earn.
XCVI
A SLIP OF THE TONGUE
MY halting verse, go bear for me,
Unless the task o'erburden thee,
A word for friend Maternus' ear,
(Speak softly lest the world should hear).
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