By chance I was strolling the Sacred Way, ^[1] and musing,
As I do, on some piece of nonsense, wholly absorbed,
When up runs a man I know only by name, who grabs
Me by the hand, crying: ‘How do you do, dear old thing?’
‘Fine, as it happens,’ I answer, ‘and best wishes to you.’
As he follows me, I add: ‘You’re after something?
He: ‘You should get to know me better, I’m learned.
I: ‘I congratulate you on that.’ Desperately trying
To flee, now I walk fast, now halt, and whisper a word
In the ear of my boy, as the sweat’s drenching me
Head to foot. While the fellow rattles on, praising
Street after street, the whole city, I silently whisper,
‘Oh Bolanus,^[2] to have your quick temper! Since I’m not
Replying, he says: ‘You’re dreadfully eager to go:
I’ve seen that a while: but it’s no use: I’ll hold you fast:
I’ll follow you wherever you’re going.’ ‘No need
For you to be dragged around: I’m off to see someone
You don’t know: he’s ill on the far side of Tiber,
Near Caesar’s ^[3] Garden.’ ‘I’ve nothing to do, I’m a walker:
I’ll follow.’ Down go my ears like a sulky donkey,
When the load’s too much for his back. Then he starts:
‘’If I know anything, you’d not find a superior friend
In Viscus or Varius: who can write more, who can write
Faster than me? Who can dance more delicately?
Even Hermogenes would envy me when I sing.’
Here was my chance to break in: ‘Haven’t you a mother,
Relations who need you at home?’ ‘No, no one: they’re all
At rest.’ Fortunate people! Only I’m left. Despatch me:
Now the sad fate approaches an old Sabine woman
Uttered when I was a child, rattling her diviner’s urn:
‘No deadly poison shall slay him, no enemy blade shall destroy him,
No pleurisy carry him off, no lingering gout or cough:
Garrulous the man who’ll consume him at last: the talkers
He’ll take good care to avoid if he’s wise, as he grows older.’
If was well after nine when we reached Vesta’s temple,^[4]
The hour, as it happened, when he was due to answer
A charge: on pain of losing his case if he didn’t appear.
‘Give me some help for a while, as you love me,’ he says.
‘Slay me if I’ve the strength for it, and I don’t know the law:
And I’ve got to go, you know where.’ ‘I’m not sure,’ says he,
Whether to abandon you or my case.’ ‘Me , please.’ ‘No, no,’
Says he, and forges ahead. I follow, it’s hard to fight
When you’re beaten. ‘How do you get on with Maecenas?’
He starts in again; ‘a man of good judgement, few friends.
No one’s used opportunity better. You’d gain
A helper, a good number two, if you’d introduce
Yours truly to him: blow me, if you couldn’t have blown
Away all the rest!’ ‘The life up there’s not what you think:
No house is freer from taint or intrigue than that one:
It never troubles me, I can tell you, if someone
Is richer than me or more learned: everyone has
His own place.’ ‘What a tale, I can hardly believe that!’
‘Well, it’s true.’ ‘You inflame my desire to get closer
To him.’ ‘Only wish: with your virtues you’ll carry
The day: he’s a person who can be won, and that’s why
He makes the first entrance so hard.’ I’ll not fail:
I’ll bribe his servants with gifts: if I’m excluded
Today, I’ll persist: I’ll search out a suitable time,
Encounter him in the street, escort him home. Life grants
Nothing to mortals without a great effort.’ While he
Rabbits on, we meet Aristius Fuscus, a dear friend
Who knows the man well. We stop. ‘Where’ve you been,
Where are you going?’ He asks, he answers. I start to
Tug at his cloak, and press on his irresponsive arms,
Nodding and winking at him to save me, the joker
Cruelly laughing in non-comprehension: I grew
Heated with anger. ‘Wasn’t there something you needed
To say in private.’ Yes I remember, I’ll tell you
At some more convenient time: it’s the thirtieth,
Sabbath: do you want to offend the circumcised Jews?’
‘Nothing’s sacred to me.’ ‘It is to me: I’m one
Of the many, somewhat weaker. Pardon: another day.’
That so black a sun had risen for me! The rascal flees
Leaving me under the knife. Suddenly we’re faced
By the plaintiff. ‘Where are you off to, you scoundrel?’
A great voice shouts, then to me: ‘Will you be a witness?’
I offer my ear. He hurries him off: clamour ensures
People come running. And that’s how Apollo ^[5]saved me.