EPIGRAMS: V.3 PDF, EPUB, EBOOK

Martial,D. R. Shackleton Bailey | 396 pages | 06 Jan 1994 | HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS | 9780674995291 | English | Cambridge, Mass, United States Websters Dictionary - Webster's Dictionary - Epigram

But do you season books for the Romans with racy salt; in you let human nature read and recognise its own manners. Although you may seem to be playing on but a slender reed, that reed will be better heard than the trumpets of many. Sat II. What a world of people, ye gods, is collected at the Roman altars, offering up prayer and vows for its ruler! These, Germanicus, are not the joys of men only; it seems to me that the gods themselves are celebrating a festival. You have given so many rings to young ladies, Macer, that you have none left for yourself. There is nothing more hateful than the antique vases of old Euctus. I prefer cups made of Saguntine clay. When the garrulous old man boasts the pedigrees of his smoky silver vessels, he makes even the wine seem musty with his talk. With this goblet fierce Rhoecus rushed to battle with the Lapitha; you see that the work has suffered in the struggle. This double vase is celebrated for having belonged to the aged Nestor; the doves upon it have been worn bright by the thumb of the hero of Pylos. This is the tankard in which Achilles ordered wine to be prepared for his friends with more than ordinary copiousness and strength. In this bowl the beauteous Dido drank the health of Bitias, at the entertainment given to the Phrygian hero. Is this pleading causes, Cinna? Is this speaking eloquently, to say nine words in ten hours? Just now you asked with a loud voice for four more clepsydra. Although, Janus, you give birth to the swiftly-rolling years, and recall with your presence centuries long past; and although you are the first to be celebrated with pious incense, saluted with vows, and adorned with the auspicious purple and with every honour; yet you prefer the glory, which has just befallen our city, of beholding its god return in your own month. Hylas, the blear-eyed, lately offered to pay you three quarters of his debt; now that he has lost one eye he offers you half. Hasten to take it; the opportunity for getting it may soon pass, for if Hylas should become blind, he will pay you nothing. Bassus has bought a cloak for ten thousand sesterces; a Tyrian one of the very best colour. He has made a good bargain. The Rhine now knows that you have arrived in your own city; for he too hears the acclamations of your people. Even the Sarmatian tribes, and the Danube, and the Getae, have been startled by the loudness of our recent exultations. While the prolonged expressions of joy in the sacred circus greeted you, no one perceived that the horses had started and run four times. No ruler, Caesar, has Rome ever so loved before, and she could not love you more, even were she to desire it. Do you ask why I am unwilling to marry a rich wife? It is because I am unwilling to be taken to husband by my wife. The mistress of the house should be subordinate to her husband, for in no other way, Priscus, will the wife and husband be on an equality. I bought what you called a fool for twenty thousand sesterces. Return me my money, Gargilianus; he is no fool at all. That your tender Cilician fruit trees may not suffer from frost, and that too keen a blast may not nip your young plants, glass frame-works, opposed to the wintry south winds, admit the sunshine and pure light of day without any detrimental admixture. But to me a cell is assigned with unglazed windows, in which not even Boreas himself would like to dwell. Is it thus, cruel man, that you would have your old friend live? I should be better sheltered as the companion of your trees. While the newly-acquired glory of the Pannonian campaign is the universal theme of conversation, and while every altar is offering propitious sacrifices to our Jupiter on his return, the people, the grateful knights, the senate, offer incense; and largesses from you for the third time enrich the Roman tribes. These modest triumphs, too, Rome will celebrate; nor will your laurels gained in peace be less glorious than your former triumphs in war, inasmuch as you feel assured of the sacred affection of your people. It is a prince's greatest virtue to know his own subjects. You, Cyperus, who were long a baker, now plead causes, and are seeking to gain two hundred thousand sesterces. But you squander what you get, and even go so far as to borrow more. You have not quitted your former profession, Cyperus: you make both bread and flour. I pleaded your cause, Sextus; having agreed to do so for two thousand sesterces. How is it that you have sent me only a thousand? If, Cirinius, you were to publish your epigrams, you might be my equal, or even, my superior, in the estimation of the reading public; but such is the respect you entertain for your old friend, that his reputation is dearer to you than your own. Just so did Virgil abstain from the style of the Calabrian Horace, although he was well able to excel even the odea of Pindar, and so too did he resign to Varius the praise of the Roman buskin, although he could have declaimed with more tragic power. Gold, and wealth, and estates, many a friend will bestow; one who consents to yield the palm in genius, is rare. Cinna does always act the poor man's part, And is not worth a groat. What needs such art? Old MS. Though you write two hundred verses every day, Varus, you recite nothing in public. You are unwise, and yet you are wise. Phosphorus Morning Star , bring back the day; why do you delay our joys? When Caesar is about to return, Phosphorus, bring back the day. Rome implores you. Is it that the sluggish wain of the tame Bootes is carrying you, that you come with axle so slow? You should rather snatch Cyllarus from Leda's twins; Castor himself would to-day lend you his horse. Why do you detain the impatient Titan? Already Xanthus and Aethon long for the bit, and the benign parent of Memnon is up and ready. Yet the lingering stars refuse to retreat before the shining light, and the moon is eager to behold the Ausonian ruler. Come, Caesar, even though it be night: although the stars stand still, day will not be absent from your people when you come. You invite me, Gallicus, to partake of a wild boar; you place before me a home-fed pig. I am a hybrid, Gallicus, if you can deceive me. I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I beat my cook for sending up a bad dinner. If that appears to you too trifling a cause, say for what cause you would have a cook flogged? If I chance in my timid and slender book to make any request of you, grant it, unless my pages are too presumptuous. Or, if you do not grant it, Caesar, still permit it to be made; Jupiter is never offended by incense and prayers. It is not he who fashions divine images in gold or marble, that makes them gods, but he who offers supplications to them. You have seen me very ill, Oppianus, only once: I shall often see you so. I shall see you often looking pale. The huntsman on the banks of the Ganges, looking pale as he fled on his Hyrcanian steed, never stood in fear, amid the Eastern fields, of so many tigers as your Rome, O Germanicus, has lately beheld. She could not even count the objects of her delight. Your arena, Caesar, has surpassed the triumphs of Bacchus among the Indians, and the wealth and magnificence of the conquering deity; for Bacchus, when he led the Indians captive after his chariot, was content with a single pair of tigers. He who makes presents to you, Gaurus, rich and old as you are, says plainly, if you have but sense and can understand him, "Die! Say, toga, rich present from my eloquent friend, of what flock were you the ornament and the glory? Did the grass of Apulia and Ledaean Phalantus 1 spring up for you, where Galaesus irrigatea the fields with waters from Calabria? Or did the Tartessian Guadalquivir, the nouriaher of the Iberian fold, wash you, when on the back of a lamb of Hesperia? Or has your wool counted the mouths of the divided Timavus, 2 of which the affectionate Cyllarus, now numbered with the stars, once drank? You it neither befitted to be stained with Amyclaean dye, nor was Miletus worthy to receive your fleece. You surpass in whiteness the lily, the budding flower of the privet, and the ivory which glistens on the hill of Tivoli. But though this be a present that vies with new-born snows, it is not more pure thin its giver Parthenius. I would not prefer to it the embroidered stuffs of proud Babylon, decorated with the needle of Semiramis; I should not admire myself more if dressed in the golden robe of Athamas, could Phrixus give me his Aeolian fleece. See B. He who writes distichs, wishes, I suppose, to please by brevity. But, tell me, of what avail is their brevity, when there is a whole book full of them? The spectacle which is now presented to us on Caesar's arena, was the great glory of the days of Brutus. See how bravely the hand bears the flames. It even enjoys the punishment, and reigns in the astonished fire! Scaevola himself appears as a spectator of his own act, and applauds the noble destruction of his right hand, which seems to luxuriate in the sacrificial fire; and unless the means of suffering had been taken away from it against its will, the left hand was still more boldly preparing to meet the vanquished flames. I am unwilling, after so glorious an action, to inquire what he had done before; it is sufficient for me to have witnessed the fate of his hand. See Spectac. You make a pretty confession about yourself Dento, when, after taking a wife, you petition for the rights of a father of three children. A gentle dove, eliding down through the silent air, settled in the very lap of Aretulla as she was sitting. This might have seemed the mere sport of chance, had it not rested there, although undetained, and refused to depart, even when the liberty of flight was granted it. If it is permitted to the affectionate sister to hope for better things, and if prayers can avail to move the lord of the world, this bird is perhaps come to you from the dwelling of the exile in Sardinia, to announce the speedy return of your brother. You send me, Paulus, a leaf from a Praetor's crown, and give it the name of a wine-cup. Some toy of the stage has perhaps recently been covered with this thin substance, and a dash of pale saffron-water washed it off. Or is it rather a piece of gilding scraped off as I think it may be by the nail of a cunning servant from the leg of your couch? Why, it is moved by a gnat flying at a distance, and is shaken by the wing of the tiniest butterfly. The flame of the smallest lamp makes it flit about, and it would be broken by the least quantity of wine poured into it. With some such crust as this the date is covered, which the ill-dressed client carries to his patron, with a small piece of money, on the first of January. The bean of Egypt produces filaments less flexible; and lilies, which fall before an excessive sun, are more substantial. The wandering spider does not disport upon a web so fine, nor does the hanging silk-worm produce a work so slight. Silvae Statius Inbunden. Philippics Cicero Inbunden. Inbunden Engelska, Spara som favorit. Skickas inom vardagar. Written to celebrate the 80 CE opening of the Roman Colosseum, Martial's first book of poems, "On the Spectacles," tells of the shows in the new arena. The great Latin epigrammist's twelve subsequent books capture the spirit of Roman life in vivid detail. Fortune hunters and busybodies, orators and lawyers, schoolmasters and acrobats, doctors and plagiarists, beautiful slaves and generous hosts populate his witty verses. Fortune hunters and busybodies, orators and lawyers, schoolmasters and street hawkers, jugglers and acrobats, doctors and plagiarists, beautiful slaves, and generous hosts are among the diverse characters who populate his verses. Martial is a keen and sharp-tongued observer of Roman society. His pen brings into crisp relief a wide variety of scenes and events: the theater and public games, life in the countryside, a rich debauchee's banquet, lions in the amphitheater, the eruption of Vesuvius. The epigrams are sometimes obscene, in the tradition of the genre, sometimes warmly affectionate or amusing, and always pointed. Like his contemporary Statius, though, Martial shamelessly flatters his patron Domitian, one of Rome's worst-reputed emperors. Epigrams, Volume I - Martial - Bok () | Bokus

My word lists. Tell us about this example sentence:. The word in the example sentence does not match the entry word. The sentence contains offensive content. Cancel Submit. Your feedback will be reviewed. One of Oscar Wilde's most frequently quoted epigrams is "I can resist everything except temptation ". Related word epigrammatic adjective. Examples of epigram. Collectively these art works redress calligraphy's historical emphases on epigrams, language purity, and expressive brushstrokes, finding other validating criteria for this ancient art form. From the Cambridge English Corpus. Shapely sentences, sparkling epigrams, brilliant dialogue chased nimbly through her travailing brain. These examples are from the Cambridge English Corpus and from sources on the web. Any opinions in the examples do not represent the opinion of the Cambridge Dictionary editors or of Cambridge University Press or its licensors. They too condensed insights into maxims, riddles and gnomic sayings, or epigrams about prudent living and shrewd, insightful public decisions. Individuals certainly differ greatly in their preferred constructions, especially those prefabricated ones, be they cliches, epigrams, pause fillers, or whatever. It is very distinctive, marked by a heavy use of paradoxes and epigrams. They start to talk to one another in epigrams. Here we have the epigram of evil resolution, a musical image of the irreversibility, the un-undoability of acts. Often it follows the exact contours of words: but it is the meaning of the words, not the phonetic structure, that the epigram seeks to memorise, to freeze. I regard it as an interpolation cf. Terentius Priscus, a patron of M. He had returned from Rome to Bilbilis and given a feast at the Saturnalia, as was his custom v. The belief that it was given by his father to celebrate his homecoming rests on a misunderstanding of v. He is a father of children like Saturn himself, pater optime in v. Nomento is clearly dative with vicino, not locative ablative cf. Why indeed should he expect laborers not his own to bring him wood? Rather it would appear that M. If I chance in my timid and slender book to make any request of you, grant it, unless my pages are too presumptuous. Or, if you do not grant it, Caesar, still permit it to be made; Jupiter is never offended by incense and prayers. It is not he who fashions divine images in gold or marble, that makes them gods, but he who offers supplications to them. You have seen me very ill, Oppianus, only once: I shall often see you so. I shall see you often looking pale. The huntsman on the banks of the Ganges, looking pale as he fled on his Hyrcanian steed, never stood in fear, amid the Eastern fields, of so many tigers as your Rome, O Germanicus, has lately beheld. She could not even count the objects of her delight. Your arena, Caesar, has surpassed the triumphs of Bacchus among the Indians, and the wealth and magnificence of the conquering deity; for Bacchus, when he led the Indians captive after his chariot, was content with a single pair of tigers. He who makes presents to you, Gaurus, rich and old as you are, says plainly, if you have but sense and can understand him, "Die! Say, toga, rich present from my eloquent friend, of what flock were you the ornament and the glory? Did the grass of Apulia and Ledaean Phalantus 1 spring up for you, where Galaesus irrigatea the fields with waters from Calabria? Or did the Tartessian Guadalquivir, the nouriaher of the Iberian fold, wash you, when on the back of a lamb of Hesperia? Or has your wool counted the mouths of the divided Timavus, 2 of which the affectionate Cyllarus, now numbered with the stars, once drank? You it neither befitted to be stained with Amyclaean dye, nor was Miletus worthy to receive your fleece. You surpass in whiteness the lily, the budding flower of the privet, and the ivory which glistens on the hill of Tivoli. But though this be a present that vies with new-born snows, it is not more pure thin its giver Parthenius. I would not prefer to it the embroidered stuffs of proud Babylon, decorated with the needle of Semiramis; I should not admire myself more if dressed in the golden robe of Athamas, could Phrixus give me his Aeolian fleece. See B. He who writes distichs, wishes, I suppose, to please by brevity. But, tell me, of what avail is their brevity, when there is a whole book full of them? The spectacle which is now presented to us on Caesar's arena, was the great glory of the days of Brutus. See how bravely the hand bears the flames. It even enjoys the punishment, and reigns in the astonished fire! Scaevola himself appears as a spectator of his own act, and applauds the noble destruction of his right hand, which seems to luxuriate in the sacrificial fire; and unless the means of suffering had been taken away from it against its will, the left hand was still more boldly preparing to meet the vanquished flames. I am unwilling, after so glorious an action, to inquire what he had done before; it is sufficient for me to have witnessed the fate of his hand. See Spectac. You make a pretty confession about yourself Dento, when, after taking a wife, you petition for the rights of a father of three children. A gentle dove, eliding down through the silent air, settled in the very lap of Aretulla as she was sitting. This might have seemed the mere sport of chance, had it not rested there, although undetained, and refused to depart, even when the liberty of flight was granted it. If it is permitted to the affectionate sister to hope for better things, and if prayers can avail to move the lord of the world, this bird is perhaps come to you from the dwelling of the exile in Sardinia, to announce the speedy return of your brother. You send me, Paulus, a leaf from a Praetor's crown, and give it the name of a wine-cup. Some toy of the stage has perhaps recently been covered with this thin substance, and a dash of pale saffron-water washed it off. Or is it rather a piece of gilding scraped off as I think it may be by the nail of a cunning servant from the leg of your couch? Why, it is moved by a gnat flying at a distance, and is shaken by the wing of the tiniest butterfly. The flame of the smallest lamp makes it flit about, and it would be broken by the least quantity of wine poured into it. With some such crust as this the date is covered, which the ill-dressed client carries to his patron, with a small piece of money, on the first of January. The bean of Egypt produces filaments less flexible; and lilies, which fall before an excessive sun, are more substantial. The wandering spider does not disport upon a web so fine, nor does the hanging silk-worm produce a work so slight. The chalk lies thicker on the face of old Fabulla; the bubble swells thicker on the agitated wave. The net which enfolds a girl's twisted hair is stronger, and the Batavian foam which changes the colour of Roman locks is thicker. With skin such as this the chick in the Ledaean egg is clothed: such are the patches which repose upon the senator's forehead. Why did you send me a wine-cup, when you might have sent me a small ladle, or a spoon even? But I speak too grandly; when you might have sent me a snail-shell; or in a word, when you might have sent me nothing at all, Paulus? You say that you have a piece of plate which is an original work of Mys. That rather is an original, in the making of which you had no hand. Since you are so well matched, and so much alike in your lives, a very bad wife, and a very bad husband, I wonder that you do not agree. Smile, Caesar, at the miraculous pyramids of Egyptian kings; let barbarian Memphis now be silent concerning her eastern monuments. How insignificant are the labours of Egypt compared to the Parrhasian palace! Its seven towers seem to rise together like seven mountains; Ossa was less lofty surmounted by the Thessalian Pelion. It so penetrates the heavens, that its pinnacle, encircled by the glittering stare, is undisturbed by thunder from the clouds below, and receives the rays of Phoebus before the nether world illumined, and before even Circe 2 beholds the face of her rising father. Yet though this Palace, Augustus, whose summit touches the stars, rivals heaven, it is not so great as its lord. When you have given up to Caietanus his bond, do you imagine that you have made him a present of ten thousand sesterces? Keep the bond, Polycharmus, and lend Caietanus two thousand. He who makes presents with persevering attention to one who can make a return for his liberality, is perhaps angling for a legacy, or seeking some other return. But if any one perseveres in giving to the name which alone remains after death and the tomb, what does he seek but a mitigation of his grief? It makes a difference whether a man is, or only wishes to seem, good. You are good, Melior, and Fame knows it, in that you anxiously prevent with solemn rites the name of the buried Blaesus from perishing: and what you profusely give from your munificent coffers to the observant and affectionate company of notaries to keep his natal day, you bestow purely on Blaesus' memory. This honour will be paid you for many a year, as long as your life shall last, and will continue to be paid after your death. There was previously no place that could accommodate the feasts and ambrosial entertainments of the Palatine table. Here you can duly quaff the sacred nectar, Germanicus, and drain cups mixed by the hand of your Ganymede. May it be long, I pray, before you become the guest of the Thunderer; or, if you, Jupiter, are in haste to sit at table with Domitian, come hither yourself! O Priapus, guardian, not of a garden, nor of a fruitful vine, but of this little grove, from which you were made and may be made again, I charge you, keep from it all thievish hands, and preserve the wood for its master's fire. If this should fall short, you will find that you yourself are but wood. Athenagoras says he is sorry that he has not sent me the presents which he usually sends in the middle of December. I shall see, Faustinus, whether Athenagoras is sorry; certainly Athenagoras has made me sorry. If a larger sportula has not attracted you to those who are more favoured by fortune, as is usually the case, you may take a hundred baths, Matho, from my sportula. Fabius buries his wives, Chrestilla her husbands; each shakes a funeral torch over the nuptial couch. Unite these conquerors, Venus, and the result will then be that Libitina will carry them both off together. I admonish you, Titullus, enjoy life; it is already late to do so; it is late, even, to begin under the schoolmaster. But you, miserable Titullus, are not even enjoying life in your old age, but wear, out every threshold with morning calls, and all the forenoon are covered with perspiration, and slobbered with the kisses of the whole city. You wander through the three forums, 1 in face of all the equestrians, the temple of Mars, and the colossus of Augustus; you are running about everywhere from the third to the fifth hour. Though the splendid coffer be pale 3 with closely packed silver coins, though a hundred pages of kalends 4 be filled with your debtors' names, yet your heir will swear that you have left nothing, and, whilst you are lying upon your bier or on, the stones, while the pyre stuffed with papyrus is rising for you, he will insolently patronise your weeping eunuchs; and your sorrowing son, whether you like it or not, will caress your favourite the very first night after your funeral. Priscus Terentius, my dear Flaccus, is restored to me from the coast of Sicily; let a milk-white gem mark this day. Let the contents of this amphora, diminished by the lapse of a hundred consulships, 1 flow forth, and let it grow brighter, turbid as it now is, strained through the purifying linen. When will it be mine to be warmed with wine so fitly quaffed? When Cytherean Cyprus shall restore you, Flaccus, to me, I shall have equally good reason for sucn indulgence. How great is your innocent simplicity, how great the childish beauty of your form, youthful Cestus, more chaste than the young Hippolytus! Diana might covet your society, and Doris desire to bathe with you: Cybele would prefer to have you all to herself instead of her Phrygian Atys. You might have succeeded to the couch of Ganymede, but you, cruel boy, would have given kisses only to your lord. Happy the bride who shall move the heart of so tender a husband, and the damsel who shall first make you feel that you are a man! Part of your face is clipped, part shaven, part has the hair pulled out. Who would think that you have but one head? Crispinus does not know to whom he gave his Tyrian mantle, when he changed his dress at the bath, and put on his toga. Whoever you are that have it, restore to his shoulders, I pray you, their honours; it is not Crispinus, but his cloak, that makes this request. It is not for every one to wear garments steeped in purple dye; that colour is suited only to opulence. If booty and the vicious craving after dishonourable gain possess you, take the toga, for that will be less likely to betray you. Asper loves a damsel; she is handsome certainly, but he is blind. Evidently then, such being the case, Asper loves better than he sees. Great as is reported to have been the feast at the triumph over the giants, and glorious as was to all the gods that night on which the kind father sat at table with the inferior deities, and the Fauns were permitted to ask wine from Jove; so grand are the festivals that celebrate your victories, O Caesar; and our joys enliven the gods themselves. All the knights, the people, and the senate, feast with you, and Rome partakes of ambrosial repasts with her ruler. You promised much; but how much more have you given! Only a sportula was promised, but you have set before us a splendid supper. Whose workmanship is displayed in this cup? Is it that of the skilful Mys, or of Myron? Is this the handiwork of Mentor, or yours, Polycletus? No tarnish blemishes its brightness, its unalloyed metal is proof against the fire of the assayer. Pure amber radiates a less bright yellow than its metal; and the fineness of its chasing surpasses the carving on snowy ivory. For the work is not inferior to the material; it surrounds the cup, as the moon surrounds the earth, when she shines at the full with all her light. Embossed on it is a goat adorned with the Aeolian fleece of the Theban Phrixus; 1 a goat on which his sister would have preferred to ride; a goat which the Cinyphian shearer would not despoil of his hair, and which Bacchus himself would allow to browse on his vine. On the back of the animal sits a Cupid fluttering his golden wings; and a Palladian flute made of the lotus seems to resound from his delicate lips. Thus did the dolphin, delighted with the Methymnaean Arion, convey his melodious rider through the tranquil waves. Martial, Epigrams, Volume III: Books | Loeb Classical Library

Satisfaction Guaranteed! Book is in Used-Good condition. Pages and cover are clean and intact. Used items may not include supplementary materials such as CDs or access codes. May show signs of minor shelf wear and contain limited notes and highlighting. More information about this seller Contact this seller 7. Publisher overstock copy. More information about this seller Contact this seller 8. Condition: New. New edition. Language: English. Brand new Book. The great Latin epigrammist's twelve subsequent books capture the spirit of Roman life--both public and private--in vivid detail. Fortune hunters and busybodies, orators and lawyers, schoolmasters and street hawkers, jugglers and acrobats, doctors and plagiarists, beautiful slaves, and generous hosts are among the diverse characters who populate his verses. Martial is a keen and sharp-tongued observer of Roman society. His pen brings into crisp relief a wide variety of scenes and events: the theater and public games, life in the countryside, a rich debauchee's banquet, lions in the amphitheater, the eruption of Vesuvius. The epigrams are sometimes obscene, in the tradition of the genre, sometimes warmly affectionate or amusing, and always pointed. Like his contemporary Statius, though, Martial shamelessly flatters his patron Domitian, one of Rome's worst-reputed emperors. Shackleton Bailey now gives us, in three volumes, a reliable modern translation of Martial's often difficult Latin, eliminating many misunderstandings in previous versions. The text is mainly that of his highly praised Teubner edition of Seller Inventory AAH More information about this seller Contact this seller 9. About this Item: Condition: New. Seller Inventory n. More information about this seller Contact this seller About this Item: Condition: As New. Unread book in perfect condition. Published by Harvard , Cambridge About this Item: Harvard , Cambridge, Seller Inventory BTA Published by Loeb About this Item: Loeb, New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since Seller Inventory WL Condition: new. About this Item: Loeb , Skickas inom vardagar. Written to celebrate the 80 CE opening of the Roman Colosseum, Martial's first book of poems, "On the Spectacles," tells of the shows in the new arena. The great Latin epigrammist's twelve subsequent books capture the spirit of Roman life in vivid detail. Fortune hunters and busybodies, orators and lawyers, schoolmasters and acrobats, doctors and plagiarists, beautiful slaves and generous hosts populate his witty verses. We glimpse here the theater, public games, life in the countryside, banquets, lions in the amphitheater, the eruption of Vesuvius. Martial's epigrams are sometimes obscene, sometimes affectionate and amusing, and always pointed. Like his contemporary Statius, though, Martial shamelessly flatters his patron Domitian, one of Rome's worst-reputed emperors. Shackleton Bailey's translation of Martial's often difficult Latin eliminates many misunderstandings in previous versions. Print Email. Bibiliographic reference Martial. Edited and translated by D. Shackleton Bailey. Loeb Classical Library

Martial, Epigrams. Book 8. Bohn's Classical Library ()

Hymns , Hymn to Hermes , 99 ff. Scholiast on Euripides' Phoenician Women , Euripides, l. Fabulae : Preface, 10, ed. The Library i, 7. Tusculan Disputations i, 38; Catullus, Description of Greece v, 1. Hymn to Selene , xxxii, 14; Plutarch. Symposiacs iii, in fin. Georgics iii, Seven Against Thebes , Fasti iv, ; iii, ; Remedia Amoris , ; Ausonius. My book, as you are about to enter the laurel-wreathed palace of the lord of the world, learn to speak with modesty, and in a reverent tone. Retire, unblushing Venus; this book is not for you. Come you to me, Pallas, you whom Caesar adores. Janus, the author and parent of our annals, when he recently beheld the conqueror of the Danube, thought it not enough to have several faces, 1 and wished that be had more eyes; then, speaking at once with his different tongues, he promised the lord of earth and divinity of the empire an old age four times as long as that of Nestor. We pray you, father Janus, that you would give the promised term in addition to your own immortality. Be modest and make an end. Fame can now give me nothing more: my book is in every hand. And when the stone sepulchre of Messala 3 shall He ruined by time, and the vast marble tomb of Licinus 4 shall be reduced to dust, I shall still be read, and many a stranger will carry my verses with him to his ancestral home. Can you employ your leisure, tell me, in any better way? Do you wish to relinquish my sock for the tragic buskin, or to thunder of savage wars in heroic verse, that the pompous pedant may read you with hoarse voice to his class, and that the grown-up maiden and ingenuous youth may detest you? Let such poems be written by those who are most grave and singularly severe, whose wretched toilings the lamp witnesses at midnight. But do you season books for the Romans with racy salt; in you let human nature read and recognise its own manners. Although you may seem to be playing on but a slender reed, that reed will be better heard than the trumpets of many. Sat II. What a world of people, ye gods, is collected at the Roman altars, offering up prayer and vows for its ruler! These, Germanicus, are not the joys of men only; it seems to me that the gods themselves are celebrating a festival. You have given so many rings to young ladies, Macer, that you have none left for yourself. There is nothing more hateful than the antique vases of old Euctus. I prefer cups made of Saguntine clay. When the garrulous old man boasts the pedigrees of his smoky silver vessels, he makes even the wine seem musty with his talk. With this goblet fierce Rhoecus rushed to battle with the Lapitha; you see that the work has suffered in the struggle. This double vase is celebrated for having belonged to the aged Nestor; the doves upon it have been worn bright by the thumb of the hero of Pylos. This is the tankard in which Achilles ordered wine to be prepared for his friends with more than ordinary copiousness and strength. In this bowl the beauteous Dido drank the health of Bitias, at the entertainment given to the Phrygian hero. Is this pleading causes, Cinna? Is this speaking eloquently, to say nine words in ten hours? Just now you asked with a loud voice for four more clepsydra. Although, Janus, you give birth to the swiftly-rolling years, and recall with your presence centuries long past; and although you are the first to be celebrated with pious incense, saluted with vows, and adorned with the auspicious purple and with every honour; yet you prefer the glory, which has just befallen our city, of beholding its god return in your own month. Hylas, the blear-eyed, lately offered to pay you three quarters of his debt; now that he has lost one eye he offers you half. Hasten to take it; the opportunity for getting it may soon pass, for if Hylas should become blind, he will pay you nothing. Bassus has bought a cloak for ten thousand sesterces; a Tyrian one of the very best colour. He has made a good bargain. The Rhine now knows that you have arrived in your own city; for he too hears the acclamations of your people. Even the Sarmatian tribes, and the Danube, and the Getae, have been startled by the loudness of our recent exultations. While the prolonged expressions of joy in the sacred circus greeted you, no one perceived that the horses had started and run four times. No ruler, Caesar, has Rome ever so loved before, and she could not love you more, even were she to desire it. Do you ask why I am unwilling to marry a rich wife? It is because I am unwilling to be taken to husband by my wife. The mistress of the house should be subordinate to her husband, for in no other way, Priscus, will the wife and husband be on an equality. I bought what you called a fool for twenty thousand sesterces. Return me my money, Gargilianus; he is no fool at all. That your tender Cilician fruit trees may not suffer from frost, and that too keen a blast may not nip your young plants, glass frame-works, opposed to the wintry south winds, admit the sunshine and pure light of day without any detrimental admixture. But to me a cell is assigned with unglazed windows, in which not even Boreas himself would like to dwell. Is it thus, cruel man, that you would have your old friend live? I should be better sheltered as the companion of your trees. While the newly-acquired glory of the Pannonian campaign is the universal theme of conversation, and while every altar is offering propitious sacrifices to our Jupiter on his return, the people, the grateful knights, the senate, offer incense; and largesses from you for the third time enrich the Roman tribes. These modest triumphs, too, Rome will celebrate; nor will your laurels gained in peace be less glorious than your former triumphs in war, inasmuch as you feel assured of the sacred affection of your people. It is a prince's greatest virtue to know his own subjects. You, Cyperus, who were long a baker, now plead causes, and are seeking to gain two hundred thousand sesterces. But you squander what you get, and even go so far as to borrow more. You have not quitted your former profession, Cyperus: you make both bread and flour. I pleaded your cause, Sextus; having agreed to do so for two thousand sesterces. How is it that you have sent me only a thousand? If, Cirinius, you were to publish your epigrams, you might be my equal, or even, my superior, in the estimation of the reading public; but such is the respect you entertain for your old friend, that his reputation is dearer to you than your own. Just so did Virgil abstain from the style of the Calabrian Horace, although he was well able to excel even the odea of Pindar, and so too did he resign to Varius the praise of the Roman buskin, although he could have declaimed with more tragic power. Gold, and wealth, and estates, many a friend will bestow; one who consents to yield the palm in genius, is rare. Cinna does always act the poor man's part, And is not worth a groat. What needs such art? Old MS. Though you write two hundred verses every day, Varus, you recite nothing in public. You are unwise, and yet you are wise. Phosphorus Morning Star , bring back the day; why do you delay our joys? When Caesar is about to return, Phosphorus, bring back the day. Rome implores you. Is it that the sluggish wain of the tame Bootes is carrying you, that you come with axle so slow? You should rather snatch Cyllarus from Leda's twins; Castor himself would to-day lend you his horse. Why do you detain the impatient Titan? Already Xanthus and Aethon long for the bit, and the benign parent of Memnon is up and ready. Yet the lingering stars refuse to retreat before the shining light, and the moon is eager to behold the Ausonian ruler. Come, Caesar, even though it be night: although the stars stand still, day will not be absent from your people when you come. You invite me, Gallicus, to partake of a wild boar; you place before me a home-fed pig. I am a hybrid, Gallicus, if you can deceive me. I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I beat my cook for sending up a bad dinner. If that appears to you too trifling a cause, say for what cause you would have a cook flogged? If I chance in my timid and slender book to make any request of you, grant it, unless my pages are too presumptuous. Or, if you do not grant it, Caesar, still permit it to be made; Jupiter is never offended by incense and prayers. It is not he who fashions divine images in gold or marble, that makes them gods, but he who offers supplications to them. You have seen me very ill, Oppianus, only once: I shall often see you so. I shall see you often looking pale. The huntsman on the banks of the Ganges, looking pale as he fled on his Hyrcanian steed, never stood in fear, amid the Eastern fields, of so many tigers as your Rome, O Germanicus, has lately beheld. She could not even count the objects of her delight. Your arena, Caesar, has surpassed the triumphs of Bacchus among the Indians, and the wealth and magnificence of the conquering deity; for Bacchus, when he led the Indians captive after his chariot, was content with a single pair of tigers. He who makes presents to you, Gaurus, rich and old as you are, says plainly, if you have but sense and can understand him, "Die! Say, toga, rich present from my eloquent friend, of what flock were you the ornament and the glory? Did the grass of Apulia and Ledaean Phalantus 1 spring up for you, where Galaesus irrigatea the fields with waters from Calabria? Or did the Tartessian Guadalquivir, the nouriaher of the Iberian fold, wash you, when on the back of a lamb of Hesperia? Or has your wool counted the mouths of the divided Timavus, 2 of which the affectionate Cyllarus, now numbered with the stars, once drank? You it neither befitted to be stained with Amyclaean dye, nor was Miletus worthy to receive your fleece. You surpass in whiteness the lily, the budding flower of the privet, and the ivory which glistens on the hill of Tivoli. But though this be a present that vies with new-born snows, it is not more pure thin its giver Parthenius. I would not prefer to it the embroidered stuffs of proud Babylon, decorated with the needle of Semiramis; I should not admire myself more if dressed in the golden robe of Athamas, could Phrixus give me his Aeolian fleece. See B. He who writes distichs, wishes, I suppose, to please by brevity. But, tell me, of what avail is their brevity, when there is a whole book full of them? The spectacle which is now presented to us on Caesar's arena, was the great glory of the days of Brutus. See how bravely the hand bears the flames. It even enjoys the punishment, and reigns in the astonished fire! Scaevola himself appears as a spectator of his own act, and applauds the noble destruction of his right hand, which seems to luxuriate in the sacrificial fire; and unless the means of suffering had been taken away from it against its will, the left hand was still more boldly preparing to meet the vanquished flames. I am unwilling, after so glorious an action, to inquire what he had done before; it is sufficient for me to have witnessed the fate of his hand. See Spectac. You make a pretty confession about yourself Dento, when, after taking a wife, you petition for the rights of a father of three children. I do not want to over-simplify things or become unfair, but the facts spoil many of those epigrams. The well-known epigram , "only connect", catches something of the ironies which lie behind today's debate. Translations of epigram in Chinese Traditional. Need a translator? Translator tool. What is the pronunciation of epigram? Browse epigastric. Test your vocabulary with our fun image quizzes. Image credits. Word of the Day vindicate. Read More. New Words medfluencer. October 18, To top. English American Examples Translations. Get our free widgets. Add the power of Cambridge Dictionary to your website using our free search box widgets. Dictionary apps. Browse our dictionary apps today and ensure you are never again lost for words. 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