Sex sestertia si statim dedisses, cum dixti mihi ‘sume, tolle, dono’, deberem tibi, Paete, pro ducentis. at nunc cum dederis diu moratus, 5post septem, puto, vel novem Kalendas, vis dicam tibi veriora veris? sex sestertia, Paete, perdidisti.
Uxorem, Charideme, tuam scis ipse sinisque a medico futui. vis sine febre mori?
Cum dubitaret adhuc belli civilis Enyo forsitan et posset vincere mollis Otho, damnavit multo staturum sanguine Martem et fodit certa pectora tota manu. 5sit Cato, dum vivit, sane vel Caesare maior: dum moritur, numquid maior Othone fuit?
- 30.4moratus γ: roga- β
- 31.2mori interrog. feci
- 32.4tota T: nuda βγ
Epigrams Book VI
If you had given six thousand sesterces at once when you told me “take it, pocket it, it’s yours,” I should feel I owed you for two hundred thousand, Paetus. But as it is, you have made the gift after a long delay, after seven, or is it nine, Kalends. Shall I tell you truer than truth? Paetus, you have wasted six thousand sesterces.
You yourself know, Charidemus, that your wife is fucked by your doctor, and you permit it. Do you want to die without a fever? 35
Although the goddess of civil warfare was still in doubt, and soft Otho had perhaps still a chance of winning, he renounced fighting that would have cost much blood 36 and with sure hand pierced right through his breast. By all means let Cato in his life be greater than Caesar himself; in his death was he greater than Otho? 37