However, of all kinds of epigram that kind is generally thought to be most properly epigrammatic which is distinguished by a witty and ingenious turn that deeply penetrates the soul. Martial excels in this kind, as in this one:
You serve the best wines always, my dear sir,
And yet they say your wines are not so good.
They say you are four times a widower.
They say ... A drink? I don't believe I would.[46]
and in this:
Though you send presents to old men and widows
Why should I call you, sir, munificent?
There's nothing lower, dirtier than you only
Who can denominate enticements gifts.
These are the sly hooks for the greedy fish,
These are the clever baits for the wild beasts.
I will instruct you what it is to give
If you are ignorant: give, sir, to me. [47]
Some are lower in style but witty and pleasant, and have a glowing simplicity, as can be illustrated by another of Martial's:
"An epic epigram," I heard you say.
Others have written them, and so I may.
"But this one is too long." Others are too.
You want them short? I'll write two lines for you:
As for long epigrams let us agree
They may be skipped by you, written by me.[48]
And, indeed, of all the special capabilities of the epigram none is more difficult to realise or more rarely achieved than the adroit handling, the suitable and easy unfolding, of the subject so that nothing is redundant, nothing wanting, nothing out of order, obscure, or tangled up in verbiage, and yet at the same time nothing too unexpected, nothing not adequately prepared for. Martial is pre-eminent in this; he develops his subjects so aptly, clearly, and perceptively that he obtains for ideas of no special note otherwise a good deal of distinction by the charm of the handling. For example, what could be more resourcefully developed than this epigram?
Believe me, sir, I'd like to spend whole days,
Yes, and whole evenings in your company,
But the two miles between your house and mine
Are four miles when I go there to come back.
You're seldom home, and when you are deny it,
Engrossed with business or with yourself.
Now, I don't mind the two mile trip to see you;
What I do mind is going four to not to.[49]
And what would the following epigram be if it had not been perfected and prepared for by the handling?
That no one meets you willingly,
That where you come they go, that vast
Areas of silence circle you—
Why so? you ask. Too much the bard.
This makes it terribly, terribly hard.
Who would put up with what I do?
You read verse if I stand or sit;
You read it if I run or sing;
And in the baths you read me verse;
I try the pool, and swim in verse;
I haste to dine, you go my way;
I order, and you read me out;
Worn out, I take my rest with verse.
You want to know what harm you do?
Just, upright, harmless, you're a pest.[50]