XXXIX.

1.

Egnatius, spruce owner of superb white teeth, Smiles sweetly, smiles for ever: is the bench in view Where stands a pleader just prepar'd to rouse our tears,

Egnatius smiles sweetly; near the pyre they mourn Where weeps a mother o'er the lost, the kind one son, 5 Egnatius smiles sweetly; what the time or place

Or thing soe'er, smiles sweetly; such a rare complaint Is his, not handsome, scarce to please the town, say I.

2.

So take a warning for the nonce, my friend; town-bred Were you, a Sabine hale, a pearly Tiburtine, 10 A frugal Umbrian body, Tuscan huge of paunch,

A grim Lanuvian black of hue, prodigious-tooth'd, A Transpadane, my country not to pass untax'd, In short whoever cleanly cares to rinse foul teeth,

Yet sweetly smiling ever I would have you not, 15 For silly laughter, it's a silly thing indeed.

3.

Well: you're a Celtiberian; in the parts thereby What pass'd the night in water, every man, come dawn, Scours clean the foul teeth with it and the gums rose-red;

So those Iberian snowy teeth, the more they shine, 20 So much the deeper they proclaim the draught impure.