Book VIII, Epigram 44 (Ker)

TiTULLus, I warn you, live your life: ever this comes late; though you begin under a pedagogue, 'tis late. But you, wretched Titullus, do not live even in old age, but wear out every threshold at levees, and sweat at daybreak beslavered with the kisses of the town; and in the three Forums, mud-bespattered in front of all the Equestrian statues, and the Temple of Mars, and the Colossus of Augustus, you hurry ever from the third to the fifth hours. Plunder, hoard, rob, possess: you must resign it all. Let your proud money-chest be yellow with crowded coins, an hundred })ages of debts due on the Kalends be opened, your heir will swear you have left nothing. And even when you are laid out on bier or stone, while, stuffed with papyrus, your pyre is growing high, he will in insolence kiss the weeping eunuchs; and your mourning son, whether you wish it or not, will tlie first night sleep with your favourite.