A medieval saying in verse runs:
Three quarrels rage when Mr Wealthy meets his fate:
Hell wants his soul; the relatives his rich estate;
while worms dispute which body parts to masticate!
That is my translation of three Latin hexameter lines:
π·π’π πππππ‘π’π πππ£ππ , πππ₯ ππππ ππ’ππ‘ π‘πππ πππ πππ‘ππ :
π·ππππ π£π’ππ‘ ππππππ, ππππ ππππ’ππππ ππ’πππ’π πππ§ππ;
π£ππππππ’π ππ π‘ππππ ππππ πππ‘ πππ πππππππ ππ’ππππ.
The composer has created internal rhymes with the endings: so πππ£ππ /πππ‘ππ , ππππππ/πππ§ππ, π‘ππππ/ππ’ππππ. One might compare Lear's line in The Owl and the Pussycat - "they took some honey and plenty of money / wrapped up in a five pound note". This kind of line was called 'Leonine verse'.
A Latin poet in Virgil's mold would frown on a verse ending consisting of two two-syllable words (πππ πππ‘ππ , ππ’πππ’π πππ§ππ). For reasons of euphony, classical poets of serious verse sought to end hexameters with a metrical phrase that has the rhythm and stress of βstrawberry jam-potβ. With two two-syllable words, that fluent rhythm would give way to a jerkier one with three stresses (as in βnow, never stumbleβ).
Classical Latin doesnβt know the words π·ππππ and ππ’ππππ either. A poet might have used ππππ’π , Hell, and πππππππ, battle, instead. So if one wants to classicize the aphorism, a reformed version without internal rhyme might run:
π·π’π πππππ‘π’π πππ£ππ , π‘πππ πππ‘ππ πππππ ππππ ππ’ππ‘: ππππ’π π£π’ππ‘ ππππππ, π‘π’π πππ πππ‘π’π ππ’π πππππ ππ’π; πππππππππ’π ππ π‘ππππ ππ’ππ’ππ‘ πππ πππππππ π£πππππ . Three quarrels rage when Mr Wealthy meets his fate: Hell wants his soul; his son and grandson his estate; while worms dispute which body parts to masticate!