Marcus Valerius Martial

The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself
the singer of its own dirge.

The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself
the singer of its own dirge.

See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In
amazement you will exclaim: Where could this read more

See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In
amazement you will exclaim: Where could this possibly grow?

I pleaded your cause, Sextus, having agreed to do so for two
thousand sesterces. How is it that you read more

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? "You said nothing," you tell me; "and this cause was
lost through you." You ought to give me so much the more,
Sextus, as I had to blush for you.

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.

I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I
beat my cook for sending up read more

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.