3. Against a cruell Master whose life notwithstanding a wronged slave of hâ—â— did save at the Proscription ABranded slave his proscrib'd Lord did save Not life but envie to his Lord he gave Mentiris iâ—venem Epig. 43. Lib. 3. Against Lentinus THou dy'st thy haire to seeme a younger man And turn'st a Crow that lately wert a Swan All are not cousen'd hels queene knows thee grey She 'll take the vizor from thy head away Occurâ—it tibi nemo Epig. 44. Lib. 3. Against Ligurinus THat none would meet thee willingly But where so ere thou com'st all fly O Ligurinus wouldst thou know it The cause is th' art too much a Poet. That fault is wondrous dangerous No Tiger robb'd of whelpes by us So much is fear'd no Scorpion Nor Dipsas basking in the Sun For who can ere endure such paine Standing thou read'st sitting againe Running and at the privy too To th' bath I goe there readest thou I goe to swimme thy Booke delayes me I goe to supper thence it stayes me When I am set thy reading makes me To rise and when I sleepe it wakes me Behold what hurt thou dost None can Brooke thee a iust good harmelesse man Et latet lucet Epig. 32. Lib. 4. Of a Bee smoother'd in Amber HEre shines a Bee clos'd in an Amber tombe As if interr'd in her own honey-combe A fit-reward fate to her labours gave No other death would she have wish'd to have Hic est Pampine is Epig. 44. Lib. 4. Of the hill Vesuvius buâ—ned by a strange fire VEsuvius shaded once with greenest vines Where pressed grapes did yeeld the noblest wines Which hil far more thaÌ„â—ysa Bacchus lov'd Where Satyrs once in mirthfull dances mov'd Where Venus dwelt and better lov'd the place Than Sparta where Alcides Temple was Is now burnt downe rak'd up in ashes sad The gods are griev'd that such great power they had Sum fateor semperque fui epig. 13. Lib. 5. Against Callistr atus I 'm poore Callistratus and ever was But yet a Gentleman free from disgrace And read through all the world and pointed at And living finde what few finde after fate An hundred columnes thy large house uphold Thy crowded chests can scarce containe thy gold Much rich Aegyptian Land thou hast but more Thy flocks from Parma send thee fleeces store Thus are we two what I am thou ' lt nere be The basest man by chance may equall thee Sextantes Caliste duos Epig. 65. Lib. â— To his servants TWo cups Calistus of rich wine fill thou Thou Alcimus allay 't with summer snow Let my moist haire with richest oyntment sweat And sweet rose chaplets on my Temples set Come let us live the Caesars tombes so nigh Teach us that even the gods themselves will dye Antonni Phario Epig. 70. Lib 5. Against Marcus Antonius the Triâ—â—nvir WOrse than Photiâ—us and more odious grown By Tullies death than thy proscription Why by thy sword should that brave Roman bleed Fieree Catiline would have abhorr'd the deed The impious Souldier gold corrupts and nought But one tongs silence that great welth has bought What boots that sacred tongues dear silence now All men will speake in stead of Cicero Qui potuit Bacchi Epig. 73 Lib. 5. Of Bacchus birth WHo sayes that love was Bacchus mother he As well may call his father Sâ—â—â—le Jurat capillos Epig. 12. Lib. 6. Of Fabulla FAbulla sweares her haire which at a rate She bought is hers Is she forsworne in that Dum Phaetonâ—aea Epig. 15. Lib. 6. Of an Ant drownd in Amber A Namber drop from Phaetons branches wept Enclos'd a little Ant that under crept That Ant not valu'd in her life at all Is now made precious by her funerall Quod nubis Proculina Epig. 22. Lib. 6. Against Proculina THat Proculina's servant marries her Her husband now late her adulterer For feare the Iulian Law should taxe her she Not marries but confesses that was he Amisit Pater unicum Epig. 62. Lib. 6. To Apian SIlanus only son is dead Why Apian hast thou offered No gifts to th' sire oh destinies What Vultur shall this carkasse seize Mâ—chum Gellia Epig. 90. Lib. 6. Of Gellia BVâ— one Adulterer has Gellia now That 's worst of all to be a wife to two Câ—lâ—tus tibi cum Epig. 92. Lib. 6. To Amianus WHen on thy cup a serpents shape is wrought By Myrons hand wine but small nought Thou drink'st therein â—ure t is a poyson'd draught Frâ—gmentum quod vile Epig. 18. Lib. 7. Of a peece of the ship Argus THis which thou thinkst base planks useles wood Was once that ship that first the Ocean plowd Which nor Cyanean Ilands nor the rage Of Sâ—ythian Seas could breake but powerful age Did ruine it yet though to time it yeeld Let this more sacred than whole ships be held Primum est ut praestes Epig. 42. Lib. 7. Against Cinna THe first love Cinna is to grant what I Request the second quickly to deny I love the one the other hate not I But thou nor grant'st nor quickly dost deny Commendare tuum dum Epig. 45. Lib. 7. To Priscus WHilst thou thy gifts to me in verse wouldst fain Commend and striv'st to passe great Homers vein Thy selfe me thou too too long dost vex While thou art studying wants do me perplexe Send rich men Verses and high Elegyes Poor men plaine gifts without a Verse will please Doctorum Licini celeberrime Epig. 46. Lib. 7. To Licinius LIcinius fam'd for learning best of men Whose language brings th' old puritie agen By what great gift of fate to us art thou Neere tasting Lethes streame restored now Our feares were past our sorrow freely wept And had thy obsequies already kept But hels sad King such envie could not brooke And to the fates restor'd the web he tooke How thy false death was wail d is known to thee Thou now enioy'st thine own posteritie Live as by stealth seize ioyes that flying poast Let not a day of this new life be lost Quod te diripiunt Epig. 75. lib. 7. To Philomusus THat great men court thee every where At feasts and at the Theater And would as oft as well may bee Walk bathe or take the ayre with thee Doe not admire thy selfe for it T is not their love but their delight Si meus aâ—â—ita Epig. 86. lib. 7. IF Flacus love a long-ear'd Harefoots sight And Caniusin a Blackamore delight If Publius fall enamour'd of a Bitch And Cronus thoughts a Monkey can bewitch If Marius prize a harmefull Indian Rat Lausus a Py that can salute and that If faire Glacilla's neck her snake become And Thelesine her Nightingale entombe Why should not I my faire Laâ—ycas love When such strange Monsters their delights can move Si quid upon â—uerit Epig 91. lib 7. Against Bacchra WEre I in want I need not aske of thee Thus Bacchra oftentimes thou tellest me My Creditors at my non-payment taunt Thou hear'st yet knowst not
fable verifi'd we all have seene Let not old times Caesar selfe-praised bee Since what fame fings the stage presents to thee In the hunting of the amphitheatre a woman it seemeâ— had killed a lion vpon which he extolleth the exercises of Caesar's theatre before former times THat Mars doth conquer Caesar at thy fights T is not enough but tender Venus fights The lion slaine in Nemean Vale of old Fame as a great Hercâ—lian action told Let old fame silent be for since thy show As much we saw a womans hand to do Men condemned to dy did personate in their deathâ— some ancient fable vpon the stage as this Prometheus AS to the Sythian rock Promotheus bound Fod stil a bird with his breasts deathles wouÌ„d Laureolus on no false gibbet here So yeelds his brest t'a Calidonean beare His torne bloud-dropping members liv'd one wound And in 's whole body was no body found Surche that suffer'd thus with impious sword Murder'd his Father or had slaine his Lord Or rob'd the temples of their sacred gold Or fired Rome What ere that crime of old His crime surpast for what they did invent Oftothers harme was his true punishment Vpon a Malefactor personating Daedaluâ— VVHen by a bear thou Daedalus werâ— torne How gladly then wouldst thou thy wings haue wâ—râ—â— Of a Rhinoceros THe fierce Rhinoceros Caesar in thy sight More than he promis'd did perform the fight How fierce in rage how stroÌ„g of horn was he Whose strength in th' aire made bulls like balls to flee He praises the iustice of Caesar who coÌ„manded a Lion to be killed on the Stage for hurting or killing his Keeper ATreacherous Lion hurt his Keeper late Daring those well known hands to violate But for his foule offence he pai'd full deare In stead of stripes he felt a killing speare Vnder a Prince that teaches gentlenesse To beasts what manners should his men expresse Of a Beare caught with bird-lime on the Theatre VVHilst ore the bloody stage a Beare so fast Doth roll in bird-lime caught he lost his haste Let cased hunting spears now vseless stand And iavelins fly no more from th'hunters hand Let huntsmen in the aire pursue their prey If beasts be caught after the fowlers way Of a Sow chased ore the Theatre and killed with a speare who out at that wound farrowed 〈◊〉 pigges AT our Caesarian Dians cruell show A flying dart had hurt a praegnant sow When from the damms death-wound the pigges proceed Cruel Lucina this the way to breed The dying sow would of moâ— wounds be glad To make sad way for all the pigs shee had Deny not Bacchus borne by mothers death A God might well since so a beast tooke breath Another of the same A Breeding sow hurt with a mortall blow At once lost life and did new life bestow What certaine aime the iaueline-thrower tooke I thinke it was Lucinaes hand that strooke Her death the power of both Diana's try'd Help'd as a daâ—â—e as hunting game shee dy'd Another of the same A Soâ— now great the fruit of her ripe wombe Brought forth a parent by a wound become That lay not still but runne when the dam feli How witt in suddaine chances doth excell â—e praises young Carpophorus a favourite of Domitian the Emperour's who to winne honour fought with beasts vpon the stage as the custome was he prefers him before Hercules and Meleager A Bore whose death gave Meleager name But part is of Carpophorus his fame He in a Beare as great as any were Vnder the North did sheathe his hunting speare He slow a Lion of unusuall size That might be held a faire Herculean prize And a swift Libbard yet his freshnesse such When crown'd for this he could have done as much A spectacle in which by an engine the image of Domitian arrayed like Hercules seemed to bee carryed by a Bull up into heauen he compares it with the Bull that carryed Europa THat from the Stage a Bull did mount the skâ—e It was no worke of Art but Pietie A Bull Europa bore through's Brothers Seas Now to the sky a Bull bare Hercules Caesar's and love's devices now compare Though both bare equall loades this highest bare Of an Elephant adoring Domitian the Emperour THat th' Elephant whose might the Bull before So fear'd thee Caesar prostrate did adore T was not his Keepers teaching or commands Even hee thy God-head Caesar understands Of a Tiger and a Lion A hard-got Tiger from th' Hyrcanian Land That us'd to licke his fearelesle Masters hand Lately in rage a thing not heard before A mighty Lion all to pieces tore He durst not doe within the Forrest thus But grew more furious since he liv'd with us Of a Bull and an Elephant THe Bul that late provoked on the stage By fire did tosse the Bals up in his rage Did fall at last by strength of horne whilst so He thought in th' ayre an Elephant to throw He flatters the wisedome of Domitian who satisfied at once the desires of both factions of the People WHile some Triumphus Myrinus some crave Caesar at once with both hands promise gave This merry strife who better could accord Oh pleasant wit of an unconquer'd Lord The Fable of Orpheus was presented on the Amphitheater in which acondemn'd man was torue by a Beare as Orpheius was by the Women in the sacrifice of Bacchus WHat â—re of Orpheus Aemus vale did see Thy stage OCaesar did present to thee The Rockes did creepe the Woods were running seene Such as th' Hesperides were thought t' have been Beasts after him both wilde and tame did throng And sholes of Birds about the Poet hung But he was slaine by an ungratefull Beare This here was true t' other was fained there Of the Rhinoceres WHilst long the fearefull Keepers did provoke Th' Rhinoceros ere he his anger tooke They did despaire th' expected sight t' obtaine At last his usuall rage return'd againe For with his double horne he tost a Beare As high as Buls stuff'd Bals have tossed there Of Carpophorus HOw strong and sure yet in his tender yeares Carpophorus throwes his Dorick hunting speares Two mighty Bullocks easily he kill'd To him the bugle and fierce Bull did yeeld From him a Lion on the weapons ranne Blame not the tarrying of the combate than A navall fight presented on the Theater the water being suddenly let in by certain devices made spectators that were strangers beleeve it was the Sea but that presently after they saw the water let out and the Sword-players exercising in the same place SPectator thou that com'st from some far shore And never saw'st these sacred showes before Be not deceiv'd with Sea-like Pooles that beare Whole navall fights dry Land was lately there Doo'st not beleeve stay till the Fencers play By Land here lately was the Sea thou 'lt say The History of Leander personated upon the water let into the Amphitheater in which he prayseth the emperour as more mercifull than Neptune for this
personated Leander was here saved the true one was drowned in the Hellespont THat this night-sea thy life Leander saves Cease youth to woÌ„der they were Caesars â— avâ—â— When bold Leander swam to his faire Love And gainst the swelling waves now weari'd strove Thus the approaching â—illowes he bespake This life but going spare returning take Young men skilfull in swimming attired in the habit of Sea-Nymphs played upon the water of the Theater Which artificiall spectacle hee preferreth before the true Exercises of Thetis and her Nymphs ON Seas a well-taught Troope of Sea-Nymphs playde And various rankes on th' easie waters made The threatning TrideÌ„t the crook'd Anchors there The Ships the Oares we thought did true appear Th' Oebalian Twins the Sailors saviours shin'd Broad Sailes did seeme to swell against the wind Who first such workes on liquid waters wrought These sports here Thetis learn'd or Thetis taught Of Carpophorus HAd former ages bred Carpophorus No Monsters Caesar had beene left for us Nor had men fear'd the Nemean Lions rore The Cretan Bull nor fierce Arcadian Bore By his arm'd hand Hydra one death had dy'd He at one blow Chimaera had destroy'd Tam'd Colchos Buls without Medaea's ayde And freed Andromeda and the Troian Maide Count great Alcides praises and to tame Twice ten wilde Beasts at once is greater fame He preferreth the Sea-fights exhibited for spectacle by the Emperours Titus and Domitian before those of Augustus Claudius and Nero. TO ioyne two fleets and with Sea-trumpets raise A navall fight was great Augustus praise More is our Caesar's Galataea view'd And Thetis too strange Beasts in water shew'd And Triton Sea-wett Chariots here hath seene And thought they had his Masters horses beene For these fierce ships whilst he prepares a fight Old Nereus would not from his Chariot light What ere upon the circke or stage men see Caesar's rich water does present to thee Let Claudius Lakes and Nero's not be knowne To after times but this Sea-fight alone When two Sword-Players fought equally and neyther yeelded Caesar though the People desired it would not dismisse them till at last both equally yeelded Vpon which hee dismissed them both crowned them both as Conquerours and freed them from the service of the stage by seading them Staves as the Custome was WHen Verus here there Priscus did prolong The fight and both their strengths in ballance hung The Peoples clamours oft dismission pray'd For both but Caesar his owne Law obey'd Which was the yeelder must his finger show How erâ— he gifâ— and â—unkets did bestow At last an end this equall combate found Both fought alike and both alike gave ground Caesar to both gave prize and libertie All this became ingenious vertues fee 'T was never known Caesar before thy raigne That two should fight and conquest both obtainâ— FINIS MARTIAL His Epigramms Hic est quem legis Epig. 1 Lib. 1. HEre whom thou seek'st Reader thou hast Martiall through all the knowne world grac'd For Epigrams of choysest wit To whom alive and knowing it Reader the favour thou hast showne Few Poets Vrnes have ever knowne Cum peteret Regem Epig. 22. Lib. 1. WHen Mutius mist of his King-killing ayme His willing hand he offer'd to the flame But the milde Foe such Miracles abhorr'd And safe from fire his Prisoner home restor'd That hand that Mutius from least fainting free Durst burne the King could not endure to see Thus happy errour greater glory wonne And lesse this hand if not deceiv'd had done Poâ—â—peios iuvenes Epig. 74. Lib. 5. EVrope and Asia Pompey's sonnes interre He tomb'd in Lybia lyes if any where No marvell t is they scatter'd thus remaine Since no one place such ruine could containe Coniugis audisset fatum Epig. 43. Lib. 1. WHen Brutus death to Portias eare was brought And weapons hid from her her sorrow sought Know ye not yet quoth she death 's nere deny'd Learn'd you not so much when my Father dy'd This said hot swallowed coales dispatch her life In vaine alas have you deny'd a knife Dum dubitaret Epig. 32. Lib. 6. WHile civill Furies fate did doubtfull stay And yet soft Otho might have wonne the day Mars he condemn'd with blood already cloy'd And his own life his certaine hand destroy'd Though Cato's life than Caesars greater was Not Cato's death could dying Otho passe Quod magni Thraseâ— Epig. 9. Lib. 1. THat great Thrasea's Sect thou dost maintaine And dying Cato's yet still safe remaine Nor on drawne Swords thy naked breast hast run What I could wish has Decianus done I weigh not him whose glory death must raise Give me the man that living merits praise Cum gravis Epig. 73. Lib. 4. WHen sicke Vestinus drew his latest breath And saw before his eyes approaching death The Sisters drawing his last thread he prayes In that blacke taske to use some small delayes Dead to himselfe he now lives to his friends The Fates gave way to his Religious ends Then parting his large wealth he yeelds his breath And thinkes himselfe now old enough for death Vu fieri liber Epig. 53. Lib. â— THou would'st be free thou ly'st thou would'â—â— not beâ—â— But if thou wouldst I le chaulâ— the way to thee At others Tables canst thou scorne to dine Canst quench thy thirst with small Etrurian wiâ—â—â—â— And cast on Cinna's Plate no covetous eye And be content with such a gowne as I Can a cheape Wench suffice thine appeâ—ite And roomes in which thou canst not stand uprighâ— Couldst thou thy minde to this true temper bring Thou shouldst live freer than the Parthian King Nullos osse Deos Epig. 21. Lib. 4. THat in the Heavens no gods there be Selius affirmes and proves cause hâ— Still thinking so lives happily â—sse quid hoc Epig. 10. Lib. 5. WHence i st that men alive no praise can gaine And that few Readers their own times mainetaine Thiâ— Regulus is Envie 's wonted guise To praise what 's past and present things despise So we old Pompey's Gallery desire And â—ulius Temple our old men admire â—nnius Rome read whilst Maro there resided By his own times great Homer was derided Fâ—w Stages â—â—ownd Menander sounded forth None but Corinna knew her Ovids Worth But haste not you my Bookes for Fame to whom â—is soone enough if after death it come Sit cisterâ—â— mibi Epig. 55. Lib. 3. A Vineyard at Ravenna no a Well For Water there than Wine doth dearer sell Callidus imposiat Epig. 56. Lib. 3. THe Vinâ—ner cheated me and pure Wine gave Wine mixt with Water â— desir'd to have Callidus effracta Epig. 43. Lib. 5. THieves may thy Coffers breake steale coyne or plate Thy house a sudden fire may ruinate Debtors may Vse and Principall deny And dead thy seedes in barren Grounds may lye Thy Steward may be cheated by a Whoâ—re Thy Merchandise the Ocean may devour But what thou giv'st thy friends froÌ„ chance is free Thy gifts alone shall thine for ever be COntinual showrs have so
man thy toyes forsake What better course speake idler canst thou take Will thy low Verse ere fit the Tragicke vaine Or thunder Warres in an Heroicke straine That Schoole-masters till they be hoarse may read Thy lines Girles Boyes thy name may dread Let men more grave and sowre such Verses write Who do by Candles spend the toylesome night With Roman salt thy merry Bookes fill thou Where men their maners may both read know What though thou seeme to pipe on humble reeds Whilst others Trumpets thy small Pipe exceeds Aeolidon Canace iacet hoc Epig. 92. Lib. 11. WIthin this Tombe faire Canace is plac't To whom her seventh Winter was her last O dire mischance Reader why weepâ—t thou there T is not her short life that requires thy teare Deaths maner's worse than death the dire disease Beset her face her tender mouth did seize The Monster sickenesse striv'd a kisse to have Her faire lips went not wholly to the grave If fates so soone bad meant to stop her breath They should have come some other way But death Made haste her tongues sweet Musicke to prevent Leâ—t that should make the â—lintiâ— Fates relent Quod taâ— grande Epig. 48. Lib. 6. THat flattering guests to praise thy words coÌ„sent Not thou Pomponâ—us thy feast's eloquent Qui recitat lana fauces Epig. 41. Lib. 6. HEe that recites his throat close muffled hee Showes he can neither speake nor silent bee Si quid forte petam Epig. 24. Lib. â— To Caesar IF my small fearefull Booke do begge of thee Grant it if not too bold my beggings bee Or pardon though thou grant not what I move Incense and prayers nere offended â—ove He makes not gods who does their figures raise In gold and marble but the man that prayes Liber amicorum dulcissima Epig. 77. Lib. 8. LIber thy friends deare care worthy to live For evermore where sweetest Roses thrive With flowers if thou be wise still crown thy head Vpon thy haire Assyrian oyntment spread Thy Chrystall glasse let blacke Falernum dy Thy soft bed warme with pleasing Venery Who ere lives thus although but halfe his time He makes more life than was bestow'd on him â—â—â—â— quem â—â—â—â— tibi Epig. 15. Lib. 9. THinkst thou his friendship ever faithful proves Whom first thy Table purchas'd no he loves Thy Ovsters Mullets Bores Sowes paps not thee If I could feast him so he would love me Laudas balaca Epig. 20. Lib. 9 To Sabâ—llus THou prayseâ—t in three hundred lines Ponticus Baths who richly dines Thy minde to eate not wash inclines Nâ—nâ—oâ— in Eâ—is Epig. 26. Lib. 8 To Domitian NOt in the Hyrcanian woods nor India Did ere mo Tigers the pale hunts-men aw Than did thy Rome Germanicus in sights Late shew nor could she number her delights The Indian Triumph was excell'd by thee The wealth and conquest of a Deitie For Bacchus with two Tigers was content When Captive Indians by his Chariot went Munera qui Epig. 27. Lib. 8. GAurus th' art old rich who ere to thee die Gives gifts conceive him right he bids thee Hostâ—â— cum fugeret Epig. 80. Lib. â— WHat Furie's this his Foe whilst Fannius flyes He kils himselfe for feare of death he dyes Splendophorus Libyeas Epig. 57. Lib. 9. TO Libya goes Splendophorus to warre Cupid thy shafts for this faire Boy prepare Those shafts which youths tender virgins wouÌ„d Light let thy speare in his soft hand be found The breast-plate helme and shield I leave to thee To fight in safety naked let him bee No arrow sword nor dart could hurt in warre Parthenopaeus whilst his face was bare He whom this youth shall wound will dy of love And happy too so sweet a fate to prove Whilst yet thy chin is smooth fair boy come home Grow not a man in Affricke but at Rome In Tartessiacis domus est Epig. 62. Lib. 9. A Well known house doth in that country stand Where Baetis waters Corduba's rich Land Where Wool's their native mettals colour keepe And growing goldfoile guilds the Spanish sheepe In mid'st of th' house her gods ore-shadowing Does Caesars plaine-tree prosperously spring Planted by that victorious guest from whose Imperiall hand the tender twigg arose Which now it seems her Lord and founder knowes She spreads so fast her sky-aspiring bowes Vnder that shade the Rusticke Dryades And wanton Fauns theÌ„selves with sporting please And oft as she by night from Pan doth fly This silent house doth Syrinx terrifie There oft hath Bacchus kept his revelling When wine has made the Tree more richly spring There Roses grow t' adorne the drinking crowne And none can say those Roses are his owne Great Caesars Tree to all the Gods most deare No sacrilegious fire nor hatchets feare Still mayst thou hope honour'd with leaves to bee T was no Pompeian hand that planted thee Dixerat O mores O tempora Epig. 72. Lib. 9. OH times O manners once old Tullv said When Catiline his hellish plot had layd When Wars did sonne and father in law divide And Romes sad earth with civill slaughter dy'd Why now O times O manners cry'st thou man What i st displeases thee Cecilian No Generals rage no swords of Traitors now But peace and ioy do plentifully flow T is not the ages manners but thine owne Have made the age to thee so hatefull growne Hic qui dura sedens THis mighty God in brasse but little done Whose Lions skin softens the harder stone Who views the heavens which once his strength bore up Whose left hand holds a clubb his right a cup Is no new peece no glory of our dayes But fam'd Lysippus gift and worke of praise This god once Alexander's Table shew'd Who Conquerour lyes in th' earth so soon subdu'd By him young Hanniball at th' altar swore By his command sterne Sylla Rule gave ore Griev'd at these severall Courts vaine terrours he Now in a private house is glad to bee And live with learned Vindex as his god As once he grac'd Molorchus poore abode Cum faciem laude Epig. 50. Lib. 3. To Galla. WHen ore I praise thy face hand leg far more Thou sayst I 'd like thâ—e if all naked ore Yet still thou â—hun'st the common Baths with me Fear'st thou that I should not be lik'd by thee Empta daâ—nus fuerat Epig. 51. Lib. 3. TWo hundred pound thy house Tongilian cost Which was by fire a chance too frequent lost Ten times as much in lieu was gather'd thee Didst thou not burne thy house in pollicie Cum dare non possim Epig. 53. Lib. 3. WHen for a night thou cravest more than I Can give t were plainer Galla to deny Quod spirat tenera malum Epig. 64. Lib. 3. To Diadumenus WHat smell ripe Apples bit by Virgins faire Or what Cilician saffrons fragrant aire What blooming Vines with blossoms lately fill'd Or springing pastures cropt by sheep do yeild What Myrtles chafed Amber Easterne gumms Arabian incense rising in palefumes What meadowes
Bacchra what I want My Land-lord rent doth openly demand Thou hear'st yet know'st not in what need I stand My cloathes are â—old worne bare vnto a thred Thou seest yet know'st not Bacchra what I need My neede is no have thee strooke dumbe therefore That thou mightst say wert thou in need no more Conditus his egâ— sâ—â—â— Epig. 95. Lib. 7. An Epitaph vpon Vrbicus a Child I Vibicus the griefe of Bassus am Here tomb'd on whom great Rome bestow'd a name Sixe Moneths I wanted of two yeares when to My threed of life did cruell fates vndo What did my beauty talke or age auaile Who ere readst this my death vntimely waile So may that man at Nestors age to grave Descend whom thou wouldst thy surviver have Sic placidum semper Epig. 98. lib. 7. To Crispâ—â—â—â— SO mayst thou still be favourd by our love And gaine as well Romes an thy Memphis love When thou my Verses read in Court shalt heare For they sometimes enioy great Caesars eare Say like a candid Reader this mans riâ—es Doe adde some honour Caesar to thy times Not far from Marsus or Catullus best This is enough to love I leave the rest Milo domi non est Epig. 101. lib. 7. Of Milo MIâ—orides forth his grounds while he 's from home Ly wast his wife still bears a fruitfull wombe Why are the grounds and she not barren growne His wife has tillers though the grounds have none Achetypis vetâ—â— Epig. 6. lib 8. Against Euctus HOw odious Euctus antique gobblets are In earthen pots t were better drinking farre While he the mouldy ages of his plate Palling the wine with talking doth relate This cup belong'd to King Laomedon For this Apollo's Harpe did wall the Towne This pot in fight did furious Rhaetus vse Against the Lapithes see here 's the bruise This with two bottoms Nestor did delight T was Nestor's thumbe that wore this dove so bright This cup Achilles in a ioviall vaine Drunke freely off his friends to entertaine In this faire Dido dranke to Bitias When Troys lov'd Prince her guest at supper was While thou these old engravings wondrest at Thou drinkst Astyanax in Priam's plate Principium des Jane Epig 8. lib. 8. To Jamis THough Ianus thou begin swift years that hast And with thy looke call backe the ages past Though thee all incense first all prayers implore All honours new and purple gownes adore Yet more thou ioy st to see what now is come That in thy moneth our god returnes to Rome Egi Sexte tuam Epig. 17 lib. 8. To Sextus SExtus thy cause I pleaded for my fee Thou sentst a piece for two did I agree But thou complainst I did thy cause betray More for the shame I suffer'd thou shouldst pay Aëraper tacitum Epig 32. lib. 8. Of Aretulla's Pigeon TO Aretulla's lap a snowy Dove Descended gently through the aire above It was no chance for there the Dove did stay And though permitted would not fly away If that so good a sisters pious love And Prayers may hope our earthly god to move This Dove from Sardos from her brother sent Brings newes of his repeale from banishment Quantatua est probitas Epig. 46. lib. 8. To Cestus CEstus so chast thou art so wondrous fair That Theseus sonne may not with thee compare To bathe with thee would nak'd Diana ioy Cybel for thee would leave her Phrygian boy Iuno would let thee lye for Ganymede With love and would not thy chast kisses dread Oh happy Bride whose maiden-head shall take Thy first fresh strength thee an husband make Formosissima quae Epig. 53. lib. 8. Against Catulla OF all thy sexe thou fairest faire But baser than the basest are Oh how I wish Catulla thee Lesse faire or else more chast to bee Tres habuit dentes Epig. 57. lib. 8. To Picens THree only teeth had Picens and did spit Them out as he before his tombe did sit Then gathring his mouthes ruines up he there Entombed them so that although his heire Gather not up his bones when he is gone This funerall rite he to himselfe hath done Qui Corcyraei vidit Epig 68 lib. 8. To Entellus WHo both hath seen wil praise thy garden house More than the Orchard of Alcinoûs Where lest the purple grapes sad winters frost Should burne and Bacchus gifts by cold be lost Clos'd in transparant stone thy Vines do live And to the eye though hid their lustre give So pebble stones in Chrystall brookes are spy'd And Maides white skins through tyffeney descry'd What would not nature let wit reach unto When barren Winter Autumn's workes must do Miraris veteres Epig. 69. lib. 8. Of Vacerra VAcerra thou approv'st of none For Poets but are dead and gone Pardon for so much do not I Esteeme thy praises as to dy Dic verum mihi Marce Epig. 76. lib. 8. Vpon Gallâ—cus I Prithee Marcus tell me true There 's nought I 'd rather heare from you Thus when thy Bookes thou dost recite Or when thou pleadst thy clients right Still Gallicus thou begg'st of mee T were hard I should deny it thee Then heare what 's true as true can be Thou dost not heare truth willingly Quaâ—â—â—â— iam superis Epig 4. lib. 9. To Domitian OF what thou Caesar to the gods hast given If thou wouldst now exact repayment even Although in Heaven an out-cry should be made And the gods forc'd to sell what ere they had Atlas were bank-rupt love could not compound Though thou would'st take five groats in every pound What can he pay for his Tarpeian crown What for his Capitoll re-built when down How much for her two temples luno owes Pallas I passe for she thy businesse does Why should I name the Flavian Temples now What Laedaâ—s sonnes Alcides Phoebus ow Caesar must needs forbeare or give them day For loves chest has not where withall to pay Caeâ—es â—anthare cum Epig. 11. lib. 9. Against Cantharus WHen thou at others cost cat'st still Thou roar'st thou threaten'st speak'st ill Such pride and fiercenesse sits not thee Thou canst not sharke and be so free Cappadocum saevis Epig 31. lib. 9. Of Antistius Rusticus IN Cappadocia did Antistius dyâ— Oh guilty land in such a Tragaedy Nigrina when her deare Lords bones she brought Home in her lap too short the iourney thought When th' â—nvy'd tombe the sacred Vrne receiv'd She seem'd againe of her dear Lord bercav'd Jupiter Jdei Epig. 35. lib. 9. In praise of Domitian WHen love great Caesars Flavian Temple â—y'd His fabulous Cretan tombe he did deride And when at table he did freely supp Nectar and gave to Mars his sonne the cupp Looking on Phoebus and bright Phoebe where Faire Maiaes sonne and great Alâ—ides were You rais'd me Cretan monuments quoth he How much more Caesars Father t is to be Si credis mibi Epig. 53. lib. 9. To Ovid. WHat thou deserv'st if thou beleeve I do to Aprils Calends give For thy birth Ovid what I doe To March