Horace Satire 1.9 lines 1-34 translation

I travel by fate the Sacred Way, just as is my custom, contemplating I don't know what sort of trifles, totally in it. A certain man know by name only to me ran up to me, and with my hand having been snatched says: "How are you, sweetest one of things?" I say: "Pleasently as it is now, and I desire all things which you wish." When he follows closely, "Surely you do not want?" I forestall, but that one said, "You did not know us, we are learned". Here I say, "because of this you will be of more value to me." Miserably seeking to depart, I went just now more quickly, at times I stopped, I spoke I do not know what to the boy into his ear, when sweat was flowing to the bottom of my ankles. "O you, Bolanus, happy with respect to your brain" silent I was saying, when that one was chattering whatever he pleased, he was praising the villages and the city. As I was responding nothing to him, he said: "Miserable, you desire to depart; for a long time I see. But it's no use; I will persist continuously. I will persue you to this place, with whom now you have the journey." "It is not necessary for you to be lead around: I wish to see a certain man not known to you; he lies across the Tiber far off near the gardens of Caesar." "I have nothing, which I shall lead, and I am not lazy: I shall follow you continously." I let down my ears, as a young ass of a uneven mind, when more heavily he underwent the burden on my back. That one began: "If I knew myself well, you will not regard Viscus as a friend of more value, you will not regard Varius as a friend of more value: for who is able to write me more verses, or is able to write verses more quckly? Who is able to more limbs more softly? May Hermogenes even envy what I sing." Here was the place of interrupting: "Not anyone for me; I composed everyone" "O happy ones! Now I remain. Finish me! For a sad fate threatens for me, which a Sabine old woman sang to the boy with the divine urn having been moved: Neither terrible poisin poison would kill him, nor would an enemy sword kill him, nor would the pain of his sides or a cough  kill him, nor would slow gout kill him: he talkative at some time or other would kill him. If he should be wise, he would avoid talkative people, and at the same time age will have reached its peak."