Marcus Valerius Martial ( 8 of 68 )
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.
Can the fish love the fisherman?
[Lat., Piscatorem piscis amare potest?]
Can the fish love the fisherman?
[Lat., Piscatorem piscis amare potest?]
Be merry if you are wise.
[Lat., Ride si sapis.]
Be merry if you are wise.
[Lat., Ride si sapis.]
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
read more
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
'Tis doubt, my Postumus, he that doth smell
So sweetly always, smells not very well.
If my opinion is of any worth, the fieldfare is the greatest
delicacy among birds, the hare among quadrupeds.
If my opinion is of any worth, the fieldfare is the greatest
delicacy among birds, the hare among quadrupeds.
The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved, in a tear of the
sisters of Phaeton, so that it seems read more
The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved, in a tear of the
sisters of Phaeton, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.
It has obtained a worthy reward for its great toils; we may
suppose that the bee itself would have desired such a death.
Never think of leaving perfumes or wine to your heir. Administer
these yourself, and let him have your money.
Never think of leaving perfumes or wine to your heir. Administer
these yourself, and let him have your money.
You are pretty,--we know it; and young,--it is true; and rich,--
who can deny it? But when you praise yourself read more
You are pretty,--we know it; and young,--it is true; and rich,--
who can deny it? But when you praise yourself extravagantly,
Fabulla, you appear neither rich, nor pretty, nor young.
