Satires of Juvenal and Persius

A new and not sad story goes through all the dinners,
and the funeral must be applauded by the angry friends.
There will be nothing further that posterity can add
to our customs; the descendants will desire and do the same.
Every vice has stood at its peak. Use your sails,
spread all your canvas. You might say here: "Whence
the talent equal to the subject matter? Whence that simplicity of the ancients,
writing whatever the burning mind pleased, the name of which I dare not speak?"
What does it matter if Mutius forgives the words or not?
Set down Tigellinus, and you will shine in that torch
by which those stand burning, who smoke with a fixed throat,
and cut a wide furrow in the middle of the sand.
He who gave aconite poison to three uncles, should he be carried
on hanging feathers a litter with soft cushions and look down on us from there?
When he comes toward you, restrain your lip with your finger;
there will be an accuser, whoever says the word "here he is."
You may safely engage Aeneas and the fierce Rutulian
in combat; no one is bothered by the struck Achilles,
or the much-sought Hylas, who followed his water jar.
As often as the burning Lucilius raged with a drawn sword,
the listener blushes, whose mind is cold
with crimes; his heart sweats with silent guilt;
hence anger and tears. Therefore, revolve these things
with yourself before the trumpets. It is too late for the armored man
to repent of the duel. I shall test what is permitted against those
whose ashes are covered by the Flaminian and Latin ways.