Who gets this little, witty book
just sanded smooth with pumice stone?
You, Cornelius, since you
put a premium on nonsense—
like way back when you tried to cram,
bold man, all time into three volumes:
a tricky and exhausting art.
So take this little jest, it’s yours;
and pray the Muse will help this babe
outlive its father by an age.
Cui dono lepidum novum libellum
arida modo pumice expolitum?
Corneli, tibi: namque tu solebas
meas esse aliquid putare nugas.
Iam tum, cum ausus es unus Italorum
omne aevum tribus explicare cartis—
doctis, Iuppiter, et laboriosis!
Quare habe tibi quidquid hoc libelli—
qualecumque, quod, o patrona virgo,
plus uno maneat perenne saeclo!
