Ex otio Negotium :: :: University of Virginia Library

African has a thousand pound in store,
Yet he desires, and hunts, and rakes for more:
Fortune hath overmuch bestow'd on some;
But plenary content to none doth come.

In Posthumum Epig. 12.

Whiles in loose Cups thou top'st the night away,
Then thou wilt promise any thing to doe,
But nothing wilt performe on the next day,
Pray (Posthumus) drink in the morning too.

Ad Auctum, Epig. 13.

Anger's a kinde of gain that rich men know:
It costs them less to hate then to bestow.

Adulatorium Cæsari, Epig. 15.

Whatever shined in the Parrhasian Hall
Is to our eyes and to our gods given all,

114

Jupiter stands and wonders to behold
Himself in Scythian flames of sparckling gold;
Great Cæsar's pleasant pride, and vast expence.
These Cups may suit with Jove's magnificence,
Such as may well become the Phrygian Boy,
Now all with Jove are rich and clad with joy.
It shames it shames me to confess of yore
How all of us with Jove were very poor.

In Lentinum, Epig. 17.

Lentinus why dost thou complain and groan
That all this while thine Ague is not gone?
Hee's carried in a Chair, and bath'd with thee,
Eates Mushrooms, Oysters, Sow's paps, and Brawn free,
Oft fox'd with Setine, oft with Falerne Wine,
Nor Cæcube drinks without its Snow to joyn,
Lyes compass'd in with Rose-buds, black with sweets,
In a rich purple Bed, soft Down, fine Sheets.
When he doth live so well so brave with thee,
Wouldst have thy Ague to poor Dama flie?

In Thelesinum, Epig. 25.

When money without pledg I ask of thee,
I have it not thou soon replyst to mee.
Yet thou the same man if my field or land
Will but pass for me, hast it out of hand.

115

When to thy friend thou wilt not credit give,
Thou cann'st my little hils and trees believe.
Lo, thou art to be banish'd: Come field prethee,
Wouldst have me now? No, let my field go with thee.

Ad Julium Martialem, Epig. 34.

Julius 'twas foure and thirty year,
That thou and I together were.
Sweeter dayes were mix'd with soure,
But yet the pleasanter were more.
And if we should divide the time
with a diverse coloured line,
The white would over-vie the black.
If thou wouldst shun the bitter smack,
And stinging tortures of the mind,
No man to thee too much bind,
Or too much in thy friend believe:
Thou shalt joy less, and lesse shalt grieve.

In Pontilianum, Epig. 40.

When thou dost lye, I seemingly believe,
When thou repeatst bad verse, my praise I give,
When thou dost sing (Pontilian) I sing out,
And when thou dost carouse, I drink about,
When thou dost fart, I grunt too in conceipt,
And when thou playst at Chesse, I am still beat.

116

Yet thou dost give nothing: dead, you cry
I shall be heir: I care not, prethee dye.

In Tuccam, Epig. 41.

Tis not sufficient that thou drunk hast been,
But thou desirest so to be call'd and seen.

Ad Phœbum, Epig. 45.

Thou that with Leather cap hast covered
The naked Temples of thy hair strippd head,
How elegantly did he sport and plod,
(Phœbus) that verified thy head was shod.

In habentem varios Mores, Epig. 47.

Thou the same man hard, soft, sweet, bitter art,
Nor can I live with thee, nor yet apart.

In Lautum Invitatorem, Epig. 48.

If Brawn and Mushrooms thou servst up as vile,
As though I wish'd them not, know tis my will.
If thou conceiv'st me wealthy, and wouldst bee
My Heir for five bare Oysters, farwel thee.
But yet thy supper's rich, most rich, yet there
To day, to morrow, streight nought will appeare,

117

That thy unhappy Maide's base broom know may,
Or Dog, or house of Office by the way.
Of Barbles, Hares, and Sow's paps this the end,
A pale sulpherous look, and gowty friend.
Domitian's Feast's not so much worth to me,
Nor Jove's, nor can the high Priest's junckets bee.
Upon this score should Jove bring Nectar here,
It were as dead Wine, or Crab-vineger.
Some other guests go seek Sir to your meat,
Whom the vast kingdoms of thy chear may cheat.
My friend to some short Steaks may me invite,
I like that Supper which I can requite.

In habentem amœnas ædes, Epig. 50.

Thou hast bay Groves, plain, and high Cypress Trees,
And Baths for more than one man's privacies.
Thy lofty Porch on hundred Pillars joynes,
And the spurn'd Onix under thy feet shines.
The flying hoofs the dusty race rejoyce,
And falls of water each where make a noyse,
Thy Courts stretch wide: But yet no place we smell
To sup, or sleep. How well thou dost not dwell!

118

De Fabullo, Epig. 51.

Why (Aullus) dost thou wonder that
Fabullus is so oft snapt by deceipt?
I'le give thee satisfaction streight,
A good man's still an undergraduate.

Ad Semproniam, Epig. 52.

He that his brows deck'd with the Muses crowne
Whose voyce to guilty men no less was known
Sempronia here thy Rufus, here is layd.
Whose dust even with thy love still drives a trade,
'Mongst the blest shades thy story he doth bear,
And Helen's self thy rape admires to hear,
Thou better from thy spoyler didst returne,
She though redeem'd did after Troy still burn.
Menalaus laughs and hears the Ilian loves,
Thy rape old Paris guilt forgives, removes.
And when thee those blessed mansions shall receive,
No shade greater acquaintance there shall have.
Proserpine loves although she cannot see
Such rapes, that love shall make her kinde to thee.

119

In Avarum, Epig. 53.

When thou hast so much coyn and wealth with thee
That seldom Cittizens or Fathers see.
Yet are not liberal, but thy heaps hangst ore
Like the great Dragon, whom the Bards of yore
Feign'd to be keeper of the Scythian Grove,
But the base cause of this thy Muck-worm love,
Thou brag'st and dost pretend thy Son to bee:
Why dost delude us with this foolerie
As though we Blocks or Idiots had bin?
Thou wast a Father ever to this sin.

In Zoilum, Epig. 54.

Red haird, black faced, club-footed, and blear-eyed,
Zoilus tis much if thou art good beside.

In Polycarmum, Epig. 56

Thou ten times in a year art sick or more.
This is not thine (my friend) but tis our sore.
No sooner well but for thy gifts dost call.
Blush: Prethee once be sick for good and all.

Ad suum Natalem, Epig. 60.

Dear son of Mars, wherein I first did see
Great Phœbus rosie-glittering Dietie.

120

If Countrey worship, and green Altars may
Displease, cause I at Rome observ'd thy day?
Pardon, if there thy Calends slighted bee,
And on my Birth-day if I would live free.

De Ligurra, Epig. 62.

Ligurra thou dost fear that I
Verses, and quick sharp Poetry
Would spend upon thee, and desirest to bee
Thought worthy of that fear conceiv'd on mee,
But thou in vain dost tremble and desire,
On Bulls the Lybian Lyons their strength tyre,
But are not troublesom to Butter flies:
Seek then, if thou dost wish thy name should rise,
Some poor Pot-poet of the sooty Vault,
That with a course Coale, or some putrid Chaulk
Writes verses, which are read upon Close-stooles,
Thy head shall nere be raised with my tools.

De Phillede, Epig. 66.

When beauteous Phillis to me all the night,
Had gave her self in all garbes of delight,
And in the morning I began to sound
What gift were best, of Cosmus sweets a pound,

121

Or Niceros his Unguents, or of fine
Rich Spanish Wooll eight pound, or Cæsar's coyn
Ten yellow boyes: My neck embraced shee,
And with as long a kisse alluring mee
As marriages of Doves are making up,
Phillis desired nought else but a merry Cup.

Ad Clientes, Epig. 69.

Thou early Client that didst cause mee fly
The Citty, some ambitious Courts imply,
I am no Lawyer, nor ordaind for strife,
But slow, and old, and of a quiet life.
Rest, and sweet sleep delight me: Which great Rome
Denyed: If I must watch here too, I'le come.

Ad Cautullum, Epig. 74.

I am thy Heir Cantullus, thou hast said it,
But I will not believe it till I read it.

De Callistrato, Epig. 82.

Least that Callistratus should not
Praise worthy men, he praises all;
He that thinks no one hath a blot,
Whom can he then a good man call?

De Umbro, Epig. 83.

In winter time and Saturn's holy dayes
Umber when poor did me present alwayes

122

With finest Wheat: but now with courser grain,
For now hee's rich, and made a man of gain.

Ad Charinum, Epig. 91.

Charinus cause thou bind'st thy head with wooll,
Tis not thy ears that grieve: Tis thy ball'd skull.

De Marone, Epig. 92.

Maro a Vow did make but somthing lowd
For an old Friend, by a feirce Ague bow'd;
That if this sickness spared him from the Grave,
Great Jove a grateful Sacrifice should have.
The Doctors promised certain health: O now
Maro makes Vowes to scape the former Vow.

Ad Priscum, Epig. 95.

Priscus thou oft dost ask what I would bee
If I were rich and rais'd to Potencie.
Can any man his future soule declare?
Suppose thou wert a Lyon: How wouldst stare?

123

In Tuccam, Epig. 96.

I penn'd an Epod: Thou beganst to write?
Therefore I ceas'd, least thine with mine unite.
My Muse to Tragick fancies soard her strain,
Thou strov'st to fit the buskin to thy brain.
Thence then I touch'd the Harp with learned skill,
With new ambition thou pursu'dst mee stil.
I Satyrs dared: Thou more exact wouldst bee,
I playd light Elegee's, thou ecchod'st mee;
What could be less? I Epigrams did frame:
And here thou soughtst to rob me of my fame.
Say what thou wilt not: Blush all things to bee:
And what thou wilt not, Tucca leave to mee.

In Bassum, Epig. 99.

When thou awife so youthful hast,
So rich, so noble, wise, and chast,
That the most wicked Goat that is
A better cannot wish for his.
Thou spendst thy strength with Boyes (we see)
Which thy wife's dowry bought for thee,
So to his Mistris thy Prick comes
Tyred, thus redeemed with mighty summs.

124

Nor will he stand though tempted by
The voyce's or thumbs flattery.
Blush then, or let the Law unfold it,
(Bassus) this is not thine, th'hast sold it.

Ad Mattum, Epig. 102.

He that denyes himself at home
When thou dost knock to see,
Dost thou not know his meaning in't?
He is a sleep to thee.

Ad Milonem, Epig. 103.

Th'art wont to sell clothes, incense, pretious stone,
Cloaks, pepper, silver, bought away th'are gone:
Thy wife's a better chaffer: Though oft sold
She never doth forsake thee, or loose hold.