Horace -- Translations into English; Latin poetry -- Translations into English
The next day arises, by much the most agreeable to all: for Plotius, and
Varius, and Virgil met us at Sinuessa; souls more candid ones than
which the world never produced, nor is there a person in the world more
bound to them than myself. Oh what embraces, and what transports were
there! While I am in my senses, nothing can I prefer to a pleasant
friend. The village, which is next adjoining to the bridge of Campania,
accommodated us with lodging [at night]; and the public officers with
such a quantity of fuel and salt as they are obliged to [by law]. From
this place the mules deposited their pack-saddles at Capua betimes [in
the morning]. Maecenas goes to play [at tennis]; but I and Virgil to our
repose: for to play at tennis is hurtful to weak eyes and feeble
constitutions.
From this place the villa of Cocceius, situated above the Caudian inns,
which abounds with plenty, receives us. Now, my muse, I beg of you
briefly to relate the engagement between the buffoon Sarmentus and
Messius Cicirrus; and from what ancestry descended each began the
contest. The illustrious race of Messius-Oscan: Sarmentus's mistress is
still alive. Sprung from such families as these, they came to the
combat. First, Sarmentus: "I pronounce thee to have the look of a mad
horse." We laugh; and Messius himself [says], "I accept your challenge:"
and wags his head. "O!" cries he, "if the horn were not cut off your
forehead, what would you not do; since, maimed as you are, you bully at
such a rate?" For a foul scar has disgraced the left part of Messius's
bristly forehead. Cutting many jokes upon his Campanian disease, and
upon his face, he desired him to exhibit Polyphemus's dance: that he had
no occasion for a mask, or the tragic buskins. Cicirrus [retorted]
largely to these: he asked, whether he had consecrated his chain to the
household gods according to his vow; though he was a scribe, [he told
him] his mistress's property in him was not the less. Lastly, he asked,
how he ever came to run away; such a lank meager fellow, for whom a
pound of corn [a-day] would be ample. We were so diverted, that we
continued that supper to an unusual length.
Hence we proceed straight on for Beneventum; where the bustling landlord
almost burned himself, in roasting some lean thrushes: for, the fire
falling through the old kitchen [floor], the spreading flame made a
great progress toward the highest part of the roof. Then you might have
seen the hungry guests and frightened slaves snatching their supper out
[of the flames], and everybody endeavoring to extinguish the fire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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