Who but a shameless, grasping gambler
Could look on, who could endure it,
As Mamurra acquires the riches Long-Haired Gaul
Once had, and remotest Britain, too?
Penetrated Romulus, will you look at this and put up with it?
And will he, all puffed up now and spilling over with self-love
Go swaggering through everyone’s bedchambers
Like a white-flecked dove or Adonis?
Penetrated Romulus, will you look at this and put up with it?
You are a shameless, grasping gambler.
Was it on his account, unparalleled commander,
That you were on the remotest island in the west,
So that your overindulged Cock, Mentula,
Might absorb twenty or thirty million sesterces?
What is this, but ill-advised liberality?
Has he not pissed on or gormandised enough?
First his family inheritance was squandered,
Then the booty from Pontus, then thirdly
That of Spain, as the gold-bearing River Tagus knows:
Now we fear for Gaul and Britain.
Why nurture this disgrace? What are his strengths,
Other than devouring inherited wealth?
Was it on his account, most dedicated men of the city,
Father- and son-in-law, that you lost everything?