Marcus Valerius Martial

You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.

You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.

Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
read more

Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
with my works? I have an excellent reason; it is lest you should
present me with yours.

And have you been able, Flaccus, to see the slender Thais? Then,
Flaccus, I suspect you can see what read more

And have you been able, Flaccus, to see the slender Thais? Then,
Flaccus, I suspect you can see what is invisible.

A beau is one who arranges his curled locks gracefully, who ever
smells of balm, and cinnamon; who hums read more

A beau is one who arranges his curled locks gracefully, who ever
smells of balm, and cinnamon; who hums the songs of the Nile, and
Cadiz; who throws his sleek arms into various attitudes; who
idles away the whole day among the chair of the ladies, and is
ever whispering into some one's ear; who reads little billets-
doux from this quarter and that, and writes them in return; who
avoids ruffling his dress by contact with his neighbour's sleeve,
who knows with whom everybody is in love; who flutters from feast
to feast, who can recount exactly the pedigree of Hirpinus. What
do you tell me? is this a beau, Cotilus? Then a beau, Cotilus,
is a very trifling thing.

Some are good, some are middling, the most are bad.
[Lat., Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mala plura.]

Some are good, some are middling, the most are bad.
[Lat., Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mala plura.]