When the dire quinsy choked his guiltless breath, And o'er his face the blackening venom stole, Festus disdained to wait a lingering death, Cheered his sad friends and freed his dauntless soul. No meagre famine's slowly-wasting force, Nor hemlock's gradual chillness he endured, But like a Roman chose the nobler course, And by one blow his liberty secured. His death was nobler far than Cato's end, For Caesar to the last was Festus' friend. HODGSON (slightly altered).
The unctuous dexterity of Statius never achieved such a master-stroke.
So, too, in laments for the dead, the superior brevity and simplicity of Martial bear the palm away. Both poets bewailed the death of Glaucias, the child favourite of Atedius Melior. Statius has already been quoted in this connexion; Martial's poems on the subject,[668] though not quite among his best, yet ring truer than the verse of Statius. And Martial's epitaphs and epicedia at their best have in their slight way an almost unique charm. We must go to the best work of the Greek Anthology to surpass the epitaph on Erotion (v. 34):
hanc tibi, Fronto pater, genetrix Flaccilla, puellam oscula commendo deliciasque meas, parvola ne nigras horrescat Erotion umbras oraque Tartarei prodigiosa canis. inpletura fuit sextae modo frigora brumae, vixisset totidem ni minus illa dies. inter tam veteres ludat lasciva patronos et nomen blaeso garriat ore meum. mollia non rigidus caespes tegat ossa nec illi, terra, gravis fueris: non fuit illa tibi.
Fronto, and you, Flaccilla, to you, my father and mother, Here I commend this child, once my delight and my pet, So may the darkling shades and deep-mouthed baying of hellhound Touch not with horror of dread little Erotion dear. Now was her sixth year ending, and melting the snows of the winter, Only a brief six days lacked to the tale of the years. Young, amid dull old age, let her wanton and frolic and gambol, Babble of me that was, tenderly lisping my name. Soft were her tiny bones, then soft be the sod that enshrouds her, Gentle thy touch, mother Earth, gently she rested on thee! A. E. STREET.
Another poem on a like theme shows a different and more fantastic, but scarcely less pleasing vein (v. 37):
puella senibus dulcior mihi cycnis, agna Galaesi mollior Phalantini, concha Lucrini delicatior stagni, cui nec lapillos praeferas Erythraeos nec modo politum pecudis Indicae dentem nivesque primas liliumque non tactum; quae crine vicit Baetici gregis vellus Rhenique nodos aureamque nitellam; fragravit ore quod rosarium Paesti, quod Atticarum prima mella cerarum, quod sucinorum rapta de manu gleba; cui conparatus indecens erat pavo, inamabilis sciurus et frequens phoenix, adhuc recenti tepet Erotion busto, quam pessimorum lex amara fatorum sexta peregit hieme, nec tamen tota, nostros amores gaudiumque lususque.