Epodes 3 (Martin): Parentis Olim

If his old father's throat any impious sinner
Has cut with unnatural hand to the bone,
Give him garlic, more noxious than hemlock, at dinner;
Ye gods! The strong stomachs that reapers must own!

With what poison is this, that my vitals are heated?
By viper's blood — certes, it cannot be less —
Stew'd into the potherbs, can I have been cheated?
Or Canidia, did she cook the damnable mess?

When Medea was smit by the handsome sea-rover,
Who in beauty outshone all his Argonaut band,
This mixture she took to lard Jason all over,
And so tamed the fire-breathing bulls to his hand.

With this her fell presents she died and infected.
On his innocent leman avenging the slight
Of her terrible beauty, forsaken, neglected,
And then on her car, dragon-wafted, took flight.

Never star on Apulia, the thirsty and arid.
Exhaled a more baleful or pestilent dew,
And the gift which invincible Hercules carried,
Burn'd not to his bones more remorselessly through.

Should you e'er long again for such relish as this is,
Devoutly I'll pray, friend Maecenas, I vow,
With her hand that your mistress arrest all your kisses,
And lie as far off as the couch will allow.