Egnatius's teeth are very white,
And therefore is he ever grinning:
Let pleaders in the court excite
All hearts to weep--from the beginning
E'en to the end he laughs. The while
The mother on the funeral bier,
Sheds o'er her only son the tear,
Alone Egnatius seems to smile,
Then opes his mouth from ear to ear:
Where'er he is, whatever doing,
He laughs and grins. The thing in fact is
A tasteless, foolish, silly practice,
Egnatius, and well worth eschewing.
Spare all this risible exertion,
And were you Roman or Tiburtian,
Sabine, Lanuvian, fat Etruscan,
Or porcine Umbrian with rare show
Of tusks--columnar--order Tuscan:
Or born the other side the Po,}
(And my compatriot, therefore know,)}
Where folk are civilised I trow,}
And wash their teeth with water cleanly--
Pure water such as folk might quaff--
I would entreat you still--don't laugh.
You look so sillily, so meanly,
As if you were but witted half.
Yet being but a Celtiberian,
Holding the custom of your nation,
Using that lotion called Hesperian;
The more you grin, folk say, forsooth,
What pity 'tis the whitest tooth
Should have the foulest application!
CURATE.--I did not translate--and our host will think one translation
quite enough.
GRATIAN.--Go on then to the next. What are we to have?
CURATE.--His address to his farm. Authors were happy in those days to
have their landed estate. Horace always speaks of his with delight; so
does Catullus, as we have seen, of his Sirmio. This farm was, it should
seem, like Horace's, among the Sabine hills.