Epigram 11.119

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ἰητρὸς τὴν γραῦν εἴτ᾽ ἔκλυσεν, εἴτ᾽ ἀπέπνιξεν,
οὐδεὶς γινώσκει: δαιμόνιον τὸ τάχος.
ὁ ψόφος ἦν κλυστῆρος ἐν οὔασι, καὶ στεφανοῦτο
ἡ σορός, οἱ δ᾽ ἄλλοι τὸν φακὸν ηὐτρέπισαν.

— Paton edition

Whether the doctor purged or strangled the old woman no one knows, but it was terribly sudden. The noise of the clyster was in our ears and her bier was being crowned and the rest prepared the pease-pudding.

— Paton edition

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