The first winner of the Spectator Classics prize

Chosen by Peter Jones

P. and B. Johnson were your favourite choices of author to translate, with P. Wyatt pressing them hard. The verse offerings were of a uniformly superb standard and one of them wins this time. Of the prose offerings, Jessop C., Kaye E. and King G. were all excellent, and Lyons S. the best of the lot, reading so smoothly and with such graceful Latinitas that consulting the original was quite unnecessary.

The winner is Shaw-Smith R. with a piece of Ovidian brilliance translated from PetroneIla Wyatt's column of 17 April; he beat Leach C. (Virgilian ditto) by a whisker:

lpsa ex-perta loquor: iuvenis mihi cognitus ohm pulcher et ingenio candidiore fuit.

Me petit et nullam potuit perferre repulsam: sed post sex cenas me tetigisse nego.

Esse verecundum aut generosa stirpe putavi ortum ilium; et potuit verus obesse pudor. Sed post I tal icas puroque sub aethe re cenas permutor, nec mens quae fuit ante manet. Hoc mihi persuasi Venerem minuisse favorem nec me damnatam posse placere viro.

Ecce tamen Baias comitem me duxit, ct inde spes redit inque meo pectore crescit amor. Hospitium petimus; venicntcs excipit hospes; et nos par firmum coniugiale putat.

have absolutely nothing to do. It is also said that Bush gave Blair no warning of his decision, which makes it worse. In fact, that was why we wrote the letter. That was really the tipping point.'

Sc) what do you think motivates George Bush to behave this way about Israel?

You can never underestimate the importance of the Jewish vote.' Sir Crispin clasps his hands and looks shrewd. 'It is also said that Sharon would not have gone to Washington if he hadn't had some assurance that his view would prevail. But the result is that we, Britain, all look jellykneed in the middle of it. Look,' he says, 'the last time I felt this strongly about a field of foreign policy was Suez. I very nearly resigned from the foreign service in 1956, but I was reassured and persuaded that it would be all right on the day by my ambassador at the time. In fact he was wrong and I was right, but it took a long time for this to emerge. At the present time we all have a duty as citizens to make what we think clear. And to see all those blunders taking place again is humiliating.' I nod vigorously. Sir Crispin looks at his watch and makes as if to get up, then stops and says, 'I was in Hong Kong recently when an Indian friend of mine made a remark that I keep returning to. I think it's important. He turned to me and said with great feeling, "Many people say that we should resent President Bush, but I feel more than that. I feel that he has declared war on me."

Quo magis id minim quod sunt disiuncta cubicla; file cubat solus, sola puella cubat.

Vesper adest, iturque foras cenaque peracta Hospitii nobis tecta subire lihet.

Ascensum est, librumque tenens in limine dixit, 'ad lectum fessus jam cubiturus co.

Heu, mecum reputo quam sint crudelia fata. Deque viro dubio sola relicta queror.

Here is the original: I speak from experience, alas. A good many years ago I met a charming, handsome young man who kept on asking me out. After roughly six dinners nothing had happened. At first I suspected he was just terribly well brought up or cripplingly shy. But after a few months and a couple of meals under the seductive Italian skies, I began to think something else. That I totally and completely lacked sex appeal.

Then hope resprung when he suggested we go on holiday to a place that might be described as 'exotic'. We arrived at the hotel, where the manager naturally assumed that we were somewhat friendly. He was surprised, therefore, when he discovered that two rooms had been booked, albeit next to each other.

The first night, we had dinner in a restaurant full of mooning couples. Afterwards we returned to the hotel and took the lift upstairs. At the door of his bedroom, my friend turned to me and said, 'I'm rather tired. I think I'm going to go to bed and read.'

`Oh,' I replied rather despondently, and shuffled into my own room to brood.

New rules for the Spectator Classics Cup 1. The monthly competition will be for a translation of any 200-word passage from The Spectator into Latin or Greek prose or verse. The prize is a bottle of champagne. At the end of this year, the Spectator Classics Cup will be awarded to the best entry.

2. All entries will be typed, doublespaced, 14-point (tough on Greeks, I know, but the problems of setting handwritten Greek will be ferocious).

3. The English is to be included with your version.

4. One entry only per person.

5. It is not compulsory to email your copy to editor@spectator.co.uk; but if you do and you win, your text is virtually guaranteed error-free publication. In general, an electronic version is preferred.

The closing date for next month's competition will be 19 June.