Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus) - 2.2.3. lyrics

Ofellus judges that a mean life is different From a plain one: so it's foolish for you to avoid One fault and steer towards another. Avidienus To whom the nickname of ‘the Dog' rightly clings, Eats olives five-years old and cornels from the woods, And won't decant his wine till it's soured, you'd detest The smell of his olive oil, yet even on birthdays Or weddings, or other occasions, in a clean toga, He drips it on the salad from a two-pint horn, With his own hands, though he's free with his old vinegar. What mode should the wise man adopt, which of these two Should he copy? One side the wolf, as they say, the other The dog. Well he'll be worldly enough not to offend us By meanness, and cultured enough not to be wretched In either way. He'll neither be cruel to his slaves Like old Albucius, when apportioning their duties, Nor like Naevius thoughtless in offering his guests Greasy water: that's also a serious mistake.