“Bassus, you unload your bowels into a golden bowl and feel no shame, but you drink from glass: so you’re paying more to shit.”
Ventris onus misero, nec te pudet, excipis auro,
Basse, bibis vitro: carius ergo cacas.
Tag: Martial
Mistullon Taratalla: Martial 1.50
“Aemelianus, if your cook is called Mistullos, why is mine not named Taratalla?”
Si tibi Mistyllos cocus, Aemiliane, vocatur,
dicatur quare non Taratalla mihi?
NOTE: This is just a silly joke riffing on the Homeric formula μίστυλλόν τ’ ἄρα τἆλλα (mistullon t’ara t’alla), “then they cut up the rest of the meat.”
“These were the hills Bacchus loved more than Nysae”: Martial on the Aftermath of Vesuvius
Today is, according to many, the anniversary of the eruption of Vesuvius in the Bay of Naples in 79 CE. Pliny’s account is the most famous, but Martial had his say too:
“Here is Vesuvius, recently verdant with shading vines–
here the noble grape weighed made filled deep pools:
these were the hills Bacchus loved more than Nysae–
On this mountain the Satyrs not so long ago led their dance.
Here was the home Venus considered more pleasing than Sparta.
This place was famous because of its Herculean name.
All of this lies covered in flames and sorrowful ash.
Not even the gods wished for this to be their right.”
Hic est pampineis uiridis modo Vesbius umbris,
presserat hic madidos nobilis uua lacus:
haec iuga quam Nysae colles plus Bacchus amauit;
hoc nuper Satyri monte dedere choros;
haec Veneris sedes, Lacedaemone gratior illi; 5
hic locus Herculeo nomine clarus erat.
Cuncta iacent flammis et tristi mersa fauilla:
nec superi uellent hoc licuisse sibi.
Did You Come Just to Leave? Martial, Epigrams Book 1, Prologue
“Let not Cato enter my theater, but if he does, let him look on! I think that I will be well within my rights if I close this letter with some verses:
Since you knew the sweet rite of Flora,
the festal games and the wantonness of the mob,
why, censorious Cato, did you come into the theater?
Or did you just come so that you could have the pleasure of leaving?”
“Non intret Cato theatrum meum, aut, si intraverit, spectet. Videor mihi meo iure facturus si epistolam uersibus clusero:
Nosses iocosae dulce cum sacrum Florae
festosque lusus et licentiam uolgi,
cur in theatrum, Cato seuere, uenisti?
an ideo tantum ueneras, ut exires?
Take That, Catullus!
“Stella’s dove, his fond delight – go ahead and let Verona hear this! – is better than Catullus’ sparrow. That dove is better than the sparrow by as much as my friend Stella is better than Catullus.”
Stellae delicium mei columba,
Verona licet audiente dicam,
uicit, Maxime, passerem Catulli.
Tanto Stella meus tuo Catullo
quanto passere maior est columba.
Note: Verona = Catullus’ birthplace.
Martial, 3.78
“Paulinus, you urinated off the side of the ship as it drove fast – do you have to take a piss again? Then you’ll be Palinurus!”
Minxisti currente semel, Pauline, carina.
Meiere uis iterum? Iam Palinurus eris.
The joke here is not easy to catch in translation, as it depends on an interplay of Greek pun and mythic allusion. Palinurus was the helmsman of Aeneas’ ship who, after being lulled to sleep at the helm, fell to his death in the ocean. The Greek pun is on πάλιν (palin = again) and ὸυρέω (oureo = urinate).
I Love it When They Hate Me (Martial, 6.60)
“My Rome praises, loves, and sings my little books—
Every pocket, every hand holds me.
Look: someone turns red, yellow, is dumbstruck, looks again, and hates!
This is what I long for: now my songs have pleased even me.”
Laudat, amat, cantat nostros mea Roma libellos,
meque sinus omnes, me manus omnis habet.
Ecce rubet quidam, pallet, stupet, oscitat, odit.
Hoc uolo: nunc nobis carmina nostra placent.
Yes, but can you publish hate?
Everyone Should Read Sulpicia (Martial, 10.35)
“All girls who desire to please one man
Should read Sulpicia.
All husbands who desire to please one wife
Should read Sulpicia.
She doesn’t write the rage of the Colchian woman
Or repeat the dinners of dire Thyestes.
She doesn’t believe there ever was a Scylla, or Byblis
But she teaches chaste and honest love,
And games, both sweet and a little naughty.
Anyone who judges her poems well
Will say that there never was a cleverer girl,
There never was a girl more reverent!
I think that the jokes of Egeria
In Numa’s dark cave were something like this.
You would have been more humble and learned
With Sulpicia as a teacher or a peer, Sappho:
But if he had seen her by your side,
Harsh Phaon would have loved Sulpicia.
Uselessly: for she would not be wife of the Thunderer
Nor girlfriend to Bacchus or Apollo
Should she live after her Calenus was taken away.”
Omnes Sulpiciam legant puellae,
Uni quae cupiunt viro placere;
Omnes Sulpiciam legant mariti,
Uni qui cupiunt placere nuptae.
Non haec Colchidos adserit furorem 5
Diri prandia nec refert Thyestae;
Scyllam, Byblida nec fuisse credit:
Sed castos docet et probos amores,
Lusus, delicias facetiasque.
Cuius carmina qui bene aestimarit, 10
Nullam dixerit esse nequiorem,
Nullam dixerit esse sanctiorem.
Tales Egeriae iocos fuisse
Udo crediderim Numae sub antro.
Hac condiscipula vel hac magistra 15
Esses doctior et pudica, Sappho:
Sed tecum pariter simulque visam
Durus Sulpiciam Phaon amaret.
Frustra: namque ea nec Tonantis uxor
Nec Bacchi nec Apollinis puella 20
Erepto sibi viveret Caleno.
(there is no way to get Latin hendecasyllables easily into English. I bet Sulpicia could have done it.)
Martial is not referring to the first Sulpicia (whose poetry is recorded with that of Tibullus, book 3) but a second Sulpicia from the time of Domitian. Hmmm. Ten plus books, only one Martial?
Martial, Epigram 9.35: You Know the Secret to a Free Meal, Now Forget It
“You will always earn a dinner with these skills, Philomusus:
Fabricate many tales, but relay them as if they are true.
You know what Pacorus is considering in his Arsacian abode;
You count the number of Rhenish and Sarmatian men,
You reveal the words consigned to paper by the Dacian chef,
And you see the victor’s crown before it arrives.
You know how many times Pharian rain dampens dark Syene
And the number of ships departing from Lybian shores
For whose head Julian olives are harvested,
And for whom the heavenly father has promised his wreaths.
Forget your skill! You will dine with me today
Under one rule: Philomusus, tell me nothing of the news.”
Artibus his semper cenam, Philomuse, mereris,
plurima dum fingis, sed quasi vera refers.
scis quid in Arsacia Pacorus deliberet aula,
Rhenanam numeras Sarmaticamque manum,
verba ducis Daci chartis mandata resignas, 5
victricem laurum quam venit ante vides,
scis quotiens Phario madeat Iove fusca Syene,
scis quota de Libyco litore puppis eat,
cuius Iuleae capiti nascantur olivae,
destinet aetherius cui sua serta pater. 10
Tolle tuas artes; hodie cenabis apud me
hac lege, ut narres nil, Philomuse, novi.
Martial, 6.12 and 6.57: A Woman and A Man with Counterfeit Hair
“Fabulla claims as her own the hair she buys!
Hey Paul—wouldn’t you say that she lies?
Iurat capillos esse, quos emit, suos
Fabulla: numquid illa, Paule, peierat
57
“You make fake hair with gel, Pheobus—
Your filthy scalp is covered with drawn-in hair
You don’t need to summon a barber for that head:
A sponge can give you a better shave, Phoebus.”
Mentiris fictos unguento, Phoebe, capillos
et tegitur pictis sordida calua comis.
Tonsorem capiti non est adhibere necesse:
radere te melius spongea, Phoebe, potest.