Marcus Valerius Martial

Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you
to do, foolish man, with writings that read more

Why, simpleton, do you mix your verses with mine? What have you
to do, foolish man, with writings that convict you of theft? Why
do you attempt to associate foxes with lions, and make owls pass
for eagles? Though you had one of Ladas's legs, you would not be
able, blockhead, to run with the other leg of wood.

You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of
Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to read more

You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of
Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to dine,
Sabellus, not to bathe.

As long as I have fat turtle-doves, a fig of your lettuce, my
friend, and you may keep your read more

As long as I have fat turtle-doves, a fig of your lettuce, my
friend, and you may keep your shell-fish to yourself. I have no
wish to waste my appetite.

My suit has nothing to do with the assault, or battery, or
poisoning, but is about three goats, which, read more

My suit has nothing to do with the assault, or battery, or
poisoning, but is about three goats, which, I complain, have been
stolen by my neighbor. This the judge desires to have proved to
him; but you, with swelling words and extravagant gestures,
dilate on the Battle of Cannae, the Mithridatic war, and the
perjuries of the insensate Carthaginians, the Syllae, the Marii,
and the Mucii. It is time, Postumus, to say something about my
three goats.

To-morrow you will live, you always cry;
In what fair country does this morrow lie,
That 'tis read more

To-morrow you will live, you always cry;
In what fair country does this morrow lie,
That 'tis so mighty long ere it arrive?
Beyond the Indies does this morrow live?
'Tis so far-fetched, this morrow, that I fear
'Twill be both very old and very dear.
"To-morrow I will live," the fool does say:
To-day itself's too late;--the wise lived yesterday.