Who can wonder? in all is health, digestion,
Pure and vigorous, hours without a trouble.
Fires ye fear not, or house's heavy downfal,
10 Deeds unnatural, art in act to poison,
Dangers myriad accidents befalling.
Then your bodies? in every limb a shrivell'd
Horn, all dryness in all the world whatever,
Tann'd or frozen or icy-lean with ages.
15 Sure superlative happiness surrounds thee.
Thee sweat frets not, an o'er-saliva frets not,
Frets not snivel or oozy rheumy nostril.
Yet such purity lacks not e'en a purer.
White those haunches as any cleanly-silver'd
20 Salt, it takes you a month to barely dirt them.
Then like beans, or inert as e'er a pebble,
Those impeccable heavy loins, a finger's
Breadth from apathy ne'er seduced to riot.
Such prosperity, such superb profusion,
25 Slight not, Furius, idly nor reject not.
As for sesterces, all the would-be fortune,
Cease to wish it; enough, methinks, the present.
XXIV.
O thou blossom of all the race Juventian
Not now only, but all as yet arisen,
All to flower in after-years arising;
Midas' treasury better you presented
5 Him that owns not a slave nor any coffer,
Ere you suffer his alien arm's presuming.
What? you fancy him all refin'd perfection?
Perfect! truly, without a slave, a coffer.
Slight, reject it, away with it; for all that
10 He, he owns not a slave nor any coffer.