Book V, Epigram 16 (Ker)

That I, who could write what is serious, prefer to write what is entertaining, you, friendly reader, are the cause, who read and hum my poems all over Rome; but you do not know what such love costs me. For, were I willing to appear for the Temple of the scythe-bearing Thunderer or to sell my speech to anxious men accused, many a sailor will send me firkins of oil from Spain, and my purse become soiled with odd moneys. But, as it is, my book is but a guest and boon-companion, and only when 'tis unpaid for does my page charm. But our ancestors were not as we, content \vith praise; then an Alexis was the smallest offering to a bard. "You have written nicely," you say; "we enjoy, and will to the end praise you." Do you pretend not to understand? You will make me, I think, a lawyer.