A 16th-century writer named Lilius Gyraldus said that “an epigram has been compared to a scorpion because as the sting of the scorpion lieth in the tail, the force of the epigram is in the conclusion.”
What did he mean? The true power of an epigram lies in its final words, where a sharp, surprising “sting” suddenly alters or intensifies the meaning of what has gone before. An epigram is a short poem or saying that is memorable because it ends with an ingenious turn of thought, punchline, or satirical twist. In Greek and Roman practice, the last line often delivers a witty reversal, pointed criticism, or unexpected insight. The ending provides a concentrated shock or delight.
An example?
The pen gives drafts both sharp and neat—
But fear deletes the boldest line, and leaves the least
complete.
So if Gyraldus thinks the scorpion earns its terror by what comes last, the epigrammatist, no less deadly, must be judged not by the length of the body, but by the venom in the final line.