A man may soner beare awaye and rather kepe in mynde
The thinge deryded, then that is prayse worthie in his kynde.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

For Readers so malicious now are growne,
What's bad they'll con, what's good they let alone.
[tr. W. P.; ed. Brome (1666)]

For what's derided by the Censuring Crowd,
Is thought on more than what is just and Good.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

For quickly we discern,
With ease remember, and with pleasure learn,
Whate'er may ridicule and laughter move,
Not what deserves our best esteem and love.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

For sooner caught and steadier to abide
On memory's tablet that which we deride,
Than what revere.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

For one learns sooner, and more willingly remembers, that which a man derides, than that which he approves and venerates.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

For easier 'tis to learn and recollect
What moves derision than what claims respect.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

For we learn quicker, gladlier recollect
What makes us laugh, than what commands respect.
[tr. Martin (1881)]

The subject of our zeal sooner hears of, and is more inclined to remember, that which any one laughs at in the production than what he approves of and eulogizes.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

For a man learns more quickly and remembers more easily that which he laughs at, than that which he approves and reveres.
[E.g. (1907)]

For one sooner learns
And easier remembers such concerns
As men deride that those men favor lend
And venerate.
[tr. A. F. Murison (1931); ed. Kramer, Jr. (1936)]

For we all more quickly learn and easily remember
the poems we scorn than those we approve of and respect.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

And writers of foolish poems often find
They're vividly and scornfully remembered.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

For a thing that causes merriment is always sooner learnt
and longer remembered than what commands respect and approval.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

Men remember more quickly, with greater readiness,
Things they deride, than those they approve and respect.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

[...] that none woulde worke me wo.
But worke they doo, but who so does, though he be divelyshe fell,
I blason farre and nere his armes, and wanton touches tell.
He may go howle, and pule for wo, the citizens will scorn hym,
And cause him wyshe full many a tyme, his damme had never borne hym.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

And none bereave
The peace I seek. But if there do, believe
Me they will rew't, when with my keen Stile stung,
Through the whole town they shall in pomp be sung.
[tr. Fanshawe; ed. Brome (1666)]

Let none hurt Peaceful Me with envious Tongue,
For if he does, He shall repent the wrong:
The warning's fair, his Vices shall be shown,
And Life expos'd to all the Cens'ring Town.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

But who provokes me, or attacks my fame,
"Better not touch me, friend," I loud exclaim,
His eyes shall weep the folly of his tongue.
By laughing crowds in rueful ballad sung.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

But that man who shall provoke me (I give notice, that it is better not to touch me) shall weep [his folly], and as a notorious character shall be sung through all the streets of Rome.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

But he who shall have once provoked me -- 'twill be better that he touch me not, I cry -- shall rue it, and, become notorious, shall be the theme of jest, through all the town.
[tr. Millington (1870)]

But should one seek
To quarrel with me, you shall hear him shriek:
Don't say I gave no warning: up and down
He shall be trolled and chorused through the town.
[tr. Conington (1874)]

But if one stir me up ("Better not touch me!" I shout), he shall smart for it and have his name sung up and down the town.
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

But the man who provokes me will weep (HANDS OFF! I WARN YOU)
and his name will be widely rehearsed all over town.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

But any guy
who gives me any trouble (my motto is “Hands off!”)
will become a tearful celebrity, sung about all over town.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

But attack -- it’s better not to, believe me -- and live
To regret it, your name paraded all over Rome!
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

But he who attacks me (O I warn you!
keep your hands to yourself!)
will have cause enough for weeping.
He will be pointed out and ridiculed
by everyone in Rome.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

"Hands off" is my motto:
anybody who gives me any trouble, he'll be
swiftly famous for his pain and snuffling.
[tr. Matthews (2002)]

But whoever stirs me up (better keep your distance, I’m telling you!)
will be sorry; he’ll become a thing of derision throughout the city.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

But he
Who provokes me (better not touch, I cry!) will suffer,
And his blemishes will be sung throughout the City.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

For your race, in its poverty, has unquestionably one really effective weapon -- laughter. Power, Money, Persuasion, Supplication, Persecution -- these can lift at a colossal humbug, -- push it a little -- crowd it a little -- weaken it a little, century by century: but only Laughter can blow it to rags and atoms at a blast. Against the assault of Laughter nothing can stand. You are always fussing and fighting with your other weapons: do you ever use that one? No, you leave it lying rusting. As a race, do you ever use it at all? No -- you lack sense and the courage.