Martial had no
deep seriousness of outlook upon life; yet he had better things in
him than flippancy.
deep seriousness of outlook upon life; yet he had better things in
him than flippancy.
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
--Satiric Pieces and Epigrams_
He unto whom thou art so partial,
O reader! is the well-known Martial,
The Epigrammatist: while living
Give him the fame thou wouldst be giving;
So shall he hear, and feel, and know it--
Post-obits rarely reach a poet. --_Byron_.
MARTIAL ON HIS WORK
Some things are good, some fair, but more you'll say
Are bad herein--all books are made that way!
FOOTNOTES:
[Y] Martial (Marcus Valerius Martialis) was born at Bilbilis,
in Spain, about 40 A. D. He went to Rome when twenty-four, and by
attaching himself to the influential family of his fellow Spaniards,
Seneca and Lucan, won his first introduction to Roman society. The
earliest of his books which we possess celebrates the games associated
with the dedication of the Flavian amphitheatre, the Colosseum,
by Titus, in 80 A. D. Most of his other books belong to the reign
of Domitian, to whom he cringed with fulsome adulation. After a
residence in Rome during thirty-four years, he returned to Spain. He
died probably soon after 102 A. D. Martial's importance to literature
rests chiefly on two facts. He made a permanent impress upon the
epigram by his gift of concise and vigorous utterance, culminating
in a characteristically sharp sting; and he left in his verses, even
where they are coarsest, an extraordinarily graphic index to the
pleasure-loving and often corrupt society of his day.
Martial had no
deep seriousness of outlook upon life; yet he had better things in
him than flippancy. He wearied of his long career of attendance upon
patrons who requited him but shabbily; and with considerable taste
for rural scenery, he longed for a more open-air existence than was
attainable in Rome. Where he best exhibited genuine feeling was in his
laments for the dead and his affection for friends. With the exception
of the introductory piece from Byron, the verse translations here are
by Professor Wight Duff.
ON FREEDOM OF LANGUAGE
Strict censure may this harmless sport endure:
My page is wanton, but my life is pure.
THE AIM OF THE EPIGRAMS
My satire knoweth how to keep due bounds:
Sparing the sinner, 'tis the sin it rounds.
ON A SPENDTHRIFT
Castor on buying doth a fortune spend:
Castor will take to selling in the end!
TO A RECITER WHO BAWLED
Why wrap your throat with wool before you read?
_Our_ ears stand rather of the wool in need!
TO AN APOLOGETIC RECITER
Before you start your recitation,
You say your throat is sore:
Dear sir, we hear your explanation,
We don't want any more!
ANSWER TO A POETASTER
Pompilianus asks why I omit
To send him all the poetry that is mine;
The reason is that in return for it,
Pompilianus, thou might'st send me _thine_.
ON A PLAGIARIST
Paul buys up poems, and to your surprise,
Paul then recites them as his own:
And Paul is right; for what a person buys
Is his, as can by law be shown!
A LOVER OF OLD-FASHIONED POETRY
Vacerra likes no bards but those of old--
Only the poets dead are poets true!
Really, Vacerra--may I make so bold? --
It's not worth dying to be liked by _you_.
A GOOD RIDDANCE
Linus, you mock my distant farm,
And ask what good it is to me?
He unto whom thou art so partial,
O reader! is the well-known Martial,
The Epigrammatist: while living
Give him the fame thou wouldst be giving;
So shall he hear, and feel, and know it--
Post-obits rarely reach a poet. --_Byron_.
MARTIAL ON HIS WORK
Some things are good, some fair, but more you'll say
Are bad herein--all books are made that way!
FOOTNOTES:
[Y] Martial (Marcus Valerius Martialis) was born at Bilbilis,
in Spain, about 40 A. D. He went to Rome when twenty-four, and by
attaching himself to the influential family of his fellow Spaniards,
Seneca and Lucan, won his first introduction to Roman society. The
earliest of his books which we possess celebrates the games associated
with the dedication of the Flavian amphitheatre, the Colosseum,
by Titus, in 80 A. D. Most of his other books belong to the reign
of Domitian, to whom he cringed with fulsome adulation. After a
residence in Rome during thirty-four years, he returned to Spain. He
died probably soon after 102 A. D. Martial's importance to literature
rests chiefly on two facts. He made a permanent impress upon the
epigram by his gift of concise and vigorous utterance, culminating
in a characteristically sharp sting; and he left in his verses, even
where they are coarsest, an extraordinarily graphic index to the
pleasure-loving and often corrupt society of his day.
Martial had no
deep seriousness of outlook upon life; yet he had better things in
him than flippancy. He wearied of his long career of attendance upon
patrons who requited him but shabbily; and with considerable taste
for rural scenery, he longed for a more open-air existence than was
attainable in Rome. Where he best exhibited genuine feeling was in his
laments for the dead and his affection for friends. With the exception
of the introductory piece from Byron, the verse translations here are
by Professor Wight Duff.
ON FREEDOM OF LANGUAGE
Strict censure may this harmless sport endure:
My page is wanton, but my life is pure.
THE AIM OF THE EPIGRAMS
My satire knoweth how to keep due bounds:
Sparing the sinner, 'tis the sin it rounds.
ON A SPENDTHRIFT
Castor on buying doth a fortune spend:
Castor will take to selling in the end!
TO A RECITER WHO BAWLED
Why wrap your throat with wool before you read?
_Our_ ears stand rather of the wool in need!
TO AN APOLOGETIC RECITER
Before you start your recitation,
You say your throat is sore:
Dear sir, we hear your explanation,
We don't want any more!
ANSWER TO A POETASTER
Pompilianus asks why I omit
To send him all the poetry that is mine;
The reason is that in return for it,
Pompilianus, thou might'st send me _thine_.
ON A PLAGIARIST
Paul buys up poems, and to your surprise,
Paul then recites them as his own:
And Paul is right; for what a person buys
Is his, as can by law be shown!
A LOVER OF OLD-FASHIONED POETRY
Vacerra likes no bards but those of old--
Only the poets dead are poets true!
Really, Vacerra--may I make so bold? --
It's not worth dying to be liked by _you_.
A GOOD RIDDANCE
Linus, you mock my distant farm,
And ask what good it is to me?
