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Hæc cinere ulteriore metuas! at tu, meus heres
Quisquis eris, paulum à turba seductior audi:
O bone num ignoras? missa est à Cæsare laurus
Insignem ob cladem Germanæ pubis, et aris
Frigidus excutitur cinis: ac jam postibus arma,
Jam chlamydes regum, jam lutea gausapa captis,
Essedaque, ingentesque locat Cæsonia Rhenos:
Diis igitur, genioque ducis centum paria, ob res
Egregie gestas, induco: quis vetat? aude.
Væ, nisi connives, Oleum, artocreasque popello
Largior: an prohibes? dic clare: Non adeo, inquis,
Exossatus ager juxta est. Age, si mihi nulla
Jam reliqua ex amitis, patruelis nulla, proneptis
Nulla manet patrui, sterilis matertera vixit,
Deque avia nihilum superest: accedo Bovillas,
Clivumque ad Virbi: præsto est mihi Manius heres.
Progenies terræ ? quære ex me, quis mihi quartus

Rome's warlike Genius, humbled in the dust,
His laurel soil'd, his armour stain'd with rust,
Walks in her train, assumes her spotted robe,
And sheathes that sword which had subdued the globe.
In silken cords his palsied hands are bound,

His reverend head with folly's cap is crown'd;
With him the sons of revelry advance,

And Bacchants sing, and Satyrs round him dance.
O thou, my heir, whoe'er thou art, attend;
Trust not to me, nor on my wealth depend.
Lo, Cæsar triumphs on Germania's plains,
And binds her hardy sons with Roman chains;
Casonia shows the trophies won in war,
The regal mantle, and the gilded car:
Exulting Rome bids all her altars blaze,

Through all her streets proclaims the victor's praise.

Shall I not then, to join the festive joy,
Unlock my coffers, and my wealth employ?
Two hundred gladiators straight I'll pay,
To grace the shows, and celebrate the day,
Who blames my conduct? Do you mutter still?
Another word, and I have changed my will.

Away, away, I soon shall find an heir,

Though my own stock no kindred plant should bear;

I'll seek Bovillæ, to Aricia go,

And on poor Manius all my wealth bestow. "What, on a peasant, born of humble birth,

"A wretch obscure, the progeny of earth?"

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Sit pater: haud prompte, dicam tamen, adde etiam unum,
Unum etiam, terræ est jam filius; et mihi ritu

Manius hic generis prope major avunculus exit...
Qui prior és, cur me in decursu lampada poscas? D
Sum tibi Mercurius: venio deus huc ego, ut ille
Pingitur: an renuis? vin' tu gaudere relictis ?..
Deest aliquid summæ: minui mihi: sed tibi totum est,
Quicquid id est. Ubi sit, fuge quærere, quod mihi
quondam akua m la

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Legarat Tadius: neu dicta repone paterna :

Fonoris accedat merces: hinc exime sumptus:

Quid reliquum est? reliquum? nunc nunc impensius

unge,

Unge puer caules. Mihi festa luce coquatur
Urtica, et fissa fumosum sinciput aure :

Ut tuus iste nepos olim satur anseris extis,
Cum morosa vago singultiet inguine vena,
Patricia immeiat vulvæ mihi trama figuræ
Sit reliqua; ast illi tremat omento popa venter ?
Vende animam lucro, mercare, atque excute solers
Omne latus mundi; ne sit præstantior alter,

'Tis even so; and thus I trace his line,

And find his origin the same with mine.

Ah! think, my friend, while you impatient wait,
And grieve that my last hour should come so late;
Think, after you in life's career I ran,

And last should finish, what I last began.
Your eyes no more their wonted fire disclose,
From your pale cheek is fled health's living rose :
Fled too the morn of life, its balmy dews,
Its purple light, and all its orient hues :
Can you then hope my funeral pile to raise,
To place the urn, or bid the torches blaze?
But if, by chance, you lay me in the grave,
Enjoy my stores, nor ask what Tadius gave.
Nor let me now those selfish precepts hear
Which misers whisper in a spendthrift's ear.
Shall I, in times when mirth and freedom reign,
The joyful voice of merriment restrain;
Check the gay spirits kindling with delight,
When social pleasures flow, and friends invite ;
On herbs, and cheek of hog, content to dine,
That you may own the wealth which now is mine?
Here, pour the oil, nor spare the spices, boy:
Time flies apace, we must the world enjoy;
Nor hoard for others, who shall spend our store,
When life and all its joys are ours no more.
Go, miser, go, in avarice grown old,

Raise heaps on heaps, increase the mass of gold:

Cappadocas rigida pingues plausissé catasta.

Rem duplica. Feci: jam triplex: jam mihi quartò, Jam decies redit in rugam. Depinge, ubi sistam. Inventus, Chrysippe, tui finitor acervi.

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