Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS

XXXVI
TO PANNYCHUS
I WOULD not have you curl your hair,
Though tangled locks I can't endure;
Trim hands and skin should never bear
The patent signs of manicure.
Ape not the beardless Eastern style,
The culprit's sloven chin abhor!
To pose as less than man is vile,
'Tis barbarous to pose as more.
Though manhood's outward looks you wear
In hirsute limb and bearded face,
Your mind the while is plucked and bare,
Of manly growth there's not a trace.
XXXVII
TO CAECILI 4ANUS
SCARCE was the dinner served, ere you
Had swept away our every dish;
Sow's udder, woodcock meant for two,
Pig's ear, the choicest kinds of fish,
The lamprey and the chicken's thigh,
The pigeon stewed in sauces rareAnd we, the hungry company,
Had nothing left to do but stare!
That bulging cloth, a dripping pack,
Your slave bore off. Pretend or feel
Some shame, and put our dinner back;
'Twas not for your to-morrow's meal.
XXXVIII
TO LINUS
You ask me how my farm can pay,
Since little it will bear;
It pays me thus.-'Tis far away
And you are never there.
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