To Menander. (361)
What an injury you have done me, dear Menander — and right after delighting me! You came riding past on a fine, tall, smooth-gaited horse and gave me the impression you were merely exercising and would turn back shortly. But in fact you were setting out on a journey, and you did not even dare to greet me in the manner of those departing — instead you used the greeting of those who are staying, and rode on.
When I spotted a pair of mules following in haste, I said to the companion beside me, "Surely those are Menander's?" He asked one of the servants running past, and the boy confirmed it. That is how I learned I had been wronged by dear Menander.
I have now called Menander "dear" twice, so that his offense may appear all the greater — if a man so dear can inflict such pain. You did not hesitate to come to my house and climb my rough staircase, yet you begrudged a friend two words of farewell. Where was your heart in all this?
What an injury you have done me, dear Menander — and right after delighting me! You came riding past on a fine, tall, smooth-gaited horse and gave me the impression you were merely exercising and would turn back shortly. But in fact you were setting out on a journey, and you did not even dare to greet me in the manner of those departing — instead you used the greeting of those who are staying, and rode on.
When I spotted a pair of mules following in haste, I said to the companion beside me, "Surely those are Menander's?" He asked one of the servants running past, and the boy confirmed it. That is how I learned I had been wronged by dear Menander.
I have now called Menander "dear" twice, so that his offense may appear all the greater — if a man so dear can inflict such pain. You did not hesitate to come to my house and climb my rough staircase, yet you begrudged a friend two words of farewell. Where was your heart in all this?
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.