Page:Satires, Epistles, Art of Poetry of Horace - Coningsby (1874).djvu/192

 I'm quite indifferent if you buy or no: Though I'm but poor, there's nothing that I owe. No dealer'd use you thus; nay, truth to tell, I don't treat all my customers so well. He loitered once, and fearing whipping, did As boys will do, sneaked to the stairs and hid. So, if this running off be not a vice Too bad to pardon, let me have my price." The man would get his money, I should say, Without a risk of having to repay. You make the bargain knowing of the flaw; 'Twere mere vexatiousness to take the law.
 * 'Tis so with me; before you left, I said

That correspondence was my rock ahead, Lest, when you found that ne'er an answer came To all your letters, you should call it shame. But where's my vantage if you won't agree To go by law, because the law's with me? Nay more, you say I'm faithless to my vow In sending you no verses. Listen now:
 * A soldier of Lucullus's, they say,

Worn out at night by marching all the day, Lay down to sleep, and, while at ease he snored, Lost to a farthing all his little hoard. This woke the wolf in him;—'tis strange how keen The teeth will grow with but the tongue between;— Mad with the foe and with himself, off-hand He stormed a treasure-city, walled and manned, Destroys the garrison, becomes renowned, Gets decorations and two hundred pound.