Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus) - 1.9.2. lyrics

If was well after nine when we reached Vesta's temple, The hour, as it happened, when he was due to answer A charge: on pain of losing his case if he didn't appear. ‘Give me some help for a while, as you love me,' he says. ‘Slay me if I've the strength for it, and I don't know the law: And I've got to go, you know where.' ‘I'm not sure,' says he, Whether to abandon you or my case.' ‘Me , please.' ‘No, no,' Says he, and forges ahead. I follow, it's hard to fight When you're beaten. ‘How do you get on with Maecenas?' He starts in again; ‘a man of good judgement, few friends. No one's used opportunity better. You'd gain A helper, a good number two, if you'd introduce Yours truly to him: blow me, if you couldn't have blown Away all the rest!' ‘The life up there's not what you think: No house is freer from taint or intrigue than that one: It never troubles me, I can tell you, if someone Is richer than me or more learned: everyone has His own place.' ‘What a tale, I can hardly believe that!' ‘Well, it's true.' ‘You inflame my desire to get closer To him.' ‘Only wish: with your virtues you'll carry The day: he's a person who can be won, and that's why He makes the first entrance so hard.' I'll not fail: I'll bribe his servants with gifts: if I'm excluded Today, I'll persist: I'll search out a suitable time, Encounter him in the street, escort him home. Life grants Nothing to mortals without a great effort.' While he Rabbits on, we meet Aristius Fuscus, a dear friend Who knows the man well. We stop. ‘Where've you been, Where are you going?' He asks, he answers. I start to Tug at his cloak, and press on his irresponsive arms, Nodding and winking at him to save me, the joker Cruelly laughing in non-comprehension: I grew Heated with anger. ‘Wasn't there something you needed To say in private.' Yes I remember, I'll tell you At some more convenient time: it's the thirtieth, Sabbath: do you want to offend the circumcised Jews?' ‘Nothing's sacred to me.' ‘It is to me: I'm one Of the many, somewhat weaker. Pardon: another day.' That so black a sun had risen for me! The rascal flees Leaving me under the knife. Suddenly we're faced By the plaintiff. ‘Where are you off to, you scoundrel?' A great voice shouts, then to me: ‘Will you be a witness?' I offer my ear. He hurries him off: clamour ensures People come running. And that's how Apollo saved me.