Pass J ?/l 6396 , Book_ AzMx -. THE s SATIRES OF HORACE FOR THE STUDENT. WITH ILLUSTRATED ARTICLES EASED ON THOSE IN RICH'S "ANTIQUITIES" ROMAN HOUSE, AMPHITHEATRE, THE PRINCIPAL ARTICLES OF DRESS, THE FORUM, THE BATHS, AND THE LOOM. AND NOTES TRANSLATED FROM THOSE IN ORELLFS EDITION. By R. M. MILLINGTON, M.A. LONDON : LONGMANS, GREEN, READER, & DYER, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1870. oO> «g«* LONDON : J. AND W. RIDER, PRINTERS, BARTHOLOMEW CLOSE* INTRODUCTION. The special object of this translation is to offer to the student an accurate and readable version of this portion of the works of Horace. The iambic rhythm has been adopted with the idea that prose with a rhythm is smoother and more harmonious than prose without it, and consequently is, to a certain extent, nearer the original. It is believed that the illustrated articles will be found very useful to the student. Orelli's text and notes have been consulted throughout. It may be as well to say a few words on the distinctive features of the satire and philosophy of Horace, as it is very possible that some may conclude that the one is merely a denunciation against men's vices and defects, and that the other is either vague and dreamy, or Utopian and im- possible. The chief characteristic of Horatian satire is, that instead of lashing vice and human weakness with the uncompromising IV INTRODUCTION. severity and indignant sarcasm of a Juvenal, it rather, with a pleasant vein of irony and playful personality, gently reproves and remonstrates than summarily condemns. And while entirely allowing that it was quite desirable that there should arise a Juvenal to brand with infamy such reigns of terror and excess as that of Domitian, the author unhesitatingly claims for Horace immunity from the charge of sympathizing with vice. If the real end and purpose of satire be to check, not merely to inveigh against vice, Horace's method of handling the subject seems the best calculated to attain that end. And that he deliberately chose that method, not from a secret leaning to the vices and follies he satirized, but with the true instinct of a master of his art, and from the teaching of his own philo- sophy, those who attentively read this portion of his works can have no reasonable doubt. Men are not so likely to listen to or profit by the fierce strictures of a satirist who in his writings apparently exhibits not only the utmost disdain and abhorrence of vice, but seems to arrogate to himself exemption from most of the weaknesses poor humanity has ever been subject to. The feeling created in the minds of the satirized is much more likely to be one of antagonism, or even more likely of indifference, on the ground that such a satirist really cannot fully understand human nature. Horace, on the contrary, knew human nature thoroughly; and the consummate address with which, while holding vice up to ridicule, he carefully avoids giving any impression that he is himself exempt from it, combined with the genial kindliness of INTRODUCTION. V a nature that satire cannot conceal, must have at once given him the advantage of being fully intelligible to his readers as a satirist, and, from his relations with Maecenas his patron, and through him with the Emperor Augustus, must have secured for his writings the attention of most of the influential men of his day. No one had more real friends than Horace, no poet was more really liked by the powerful, although the aristocracy of Rome were as exclusive and haughty as the old Bourbons themselves. The bearing, at once liberal and independent, and yet modest and unassuming, that he ever preserved, in spite of the suddenness of his rise and the consequent difficulty of the role he had to play in a city where adroit flattery was far more acceptable than real and unpretending merit, deserves the warmest commendation. Shall we assign as reasons for this popularity (as a satirist) that he tacitly approved of, at all events, the milder vices, and that, with the spirit of a courtier, he merely modified his tone to suit the times, or that he recognised the absurdity of attempting to preach to an audience in a language which, if they heard, they would not understand ; and which, if they understood, they would probably pretend not to hear? Let those who read him judge. The author is quite content to believe as much good as possible of a writer who, beyond dispute, was not only a great satirist, but who was a genial companion, a thorough gentleman, a firm friend, and singularly free from prejudice. With regard to his philosophy it is enough to say that, while carefully and critically culling the good from the various VI INTRODUCTION. systems that then engrossed men's minds and attention, he never absolutely adhered to the tenets of any one, but seems to have had firmer faith in the wisdom to be derived from that maxim, "the golden mean," which more or less tinctures his writing. LIFE OF HORACE. In December of the year 65 B.C., in the consulship of Lucius Aurelius Cotta and Lucius Manlius Torquatus, was born the great Roman poet and satirist of the Augustan age, Quintus Horatius Flaccus. His birthplace was a small town then called Venusia or Venusium, and now Venosa, situated in Apulia, and only separated from Lucania by a chain of moun- tains about one mile to the south of the town, which formed the natural boundary between the two countries. His father, whose condition was that of a freedman, while exercising the humble calling of collector of the salt fish revenues, had ac- quired means enough to purchase a small farm near Venusia, on the banks of the river Aufidus, now called the Ofanto. The first ten or eleven years of the poet's life were passed in this small town, when the father, dissatisfied with the advan- tages afforded by the tenth-rate academy of Flavius at Venusia, and probably even then perceiving some indications of the genius his son afterwards manifested, removed to Rome, and placed him under the care of a celebrated schoolmaster named Orbilius Pupillus of Beneventum, now Benevento ; under whose tuition he became acquainted with the more ancient poets of Rome, such as Livius, Ennius, and Lucilius, whose satiric writing Horace has himself told us that he imitated. He next learned the Greek language, and read some of the literature of Greece ; and so, while the father was plying his" humble calling of broker's clerk, or tax-gatherer, the son was Vlll LIFE OF HORACE. receiving instruction and advantages suited even to the sons of the oldest aristocracy of Rome. The poet himself pays a grace- ful tribute of acknowledgment to this self-denial on the part of the father, and to his careful training, in the Sixth Satire of the First Book, where, alluding to the former, he says, — " But if my character be sullied by more venial defects, and those but few, and be good in the main \ if none shall fairly charge me with the fault of avarice, or meanness, or bad com- pany ; if I be pure and guiltless ; if, to praise myself, I live dear to my friends, — my father was the cause of this ; for he, though poor, sent me to Rome to learn accomplishments which any gentleman of property, or any member of the House, might get his children taught.'' And to the latter, — "In fine, he kept me chastely free from all immoral deeds; nor that alone, but e'en from slander's slur, and purity like this is youthful virtue's brightest crown." When about twenty or one-and-twenty years of age, Horace went to Athens to complete his education; and here, while " learning philosophic truth 'mid Academus' groves," he found for his fellow-students, the son of Cicero, Varus, and Messalla. Meantime the crash of civil war had burst in Rome : the Dic- tator Caesar had fallen by the assassin's dagger :— Antony was bending all his energies to raise from the embers of his power a tyranny more to be dreaded, while Brutus and Cassius were at Athens endeavouring to enrol under their banner the young Romans who were there quietly pursuing their studies, as yet uninfluenced by the tide of anarchy and the fierce rivalry of faction. Horace joined the republican army, and finished an uneventful campaign of nearly two years in Macedonia by serving as a general officer at the battle of Philippi, now Filibah, against Mark Antony and Octavianus, as Augustus then was called, in which Brutus and Cassius were totally LIFE OF HORACE. IX defeated : and the poet fled from the battle-field, and repaired to Rome, after saving his life (but not his small property at Venusia, which was confiscated), intending to maintain himself by his pen. His father was now dead, and it was no bright opening for the young Venusian to appear as a political rene- gade, without fame and without patronage, in a town like Rome, where the courtier and the informer too often found the way to honour and distinction more easily than the man of genius or merit. However, as he says himself, " my poverty compelled me to write verses," and although it was satire that he wrote (for from his satires alone he gained his early and most lasting fame), we find him soon attracting the notice of Virgil and Varius, and, through their recommendation, securing the patronage of Caius Cilnius Maecenas, the intimate friend and chief counsellor, together with Agrippa, of the Emperor Au- gustus. He was now twenty-seven years of age ; had won for himself a name among the most celebrated literary men of the day, such as Virgil, Ovid, and Tibullus ; enjoying the friend- ship of the Emperor, of Maecenas, and of such men as Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, Caius Asinius Pollio, and Quintus ^Elius Lamia. He was now secured from want, and received, as marks of his patron's favour and esteem, a romantic villa at Tibur, now Tivoli, on the banks of the Anio, now the Teverone, and a retired farm in the eastern extremity of the country of the Sabines, in one or other of which he spent a great part of his time, and ever preferred the simple country life to the pomp and bustle of Rome. And there is no need to suppose that this love of retirement was due to anything but the teaching of his own philosophy, for he had offers of positions of emolu- ment ; and, indeed, the Emperor Augustus, when the weight of supreme rule began to be felt and his health to suffer, desired that Horace would accept the office of private secretary, and X LIFE OF HORACE. this Augustus more especially wished so that the poet might conduct the correspondence between himself and his private friends, — an office for which Horace must have been singu- larly qualified. The poet, however, declined the offer; and still enjoyed the imperial friendship. Maecenas gave a signal proof of the affection with which he regarded him, for in his last communication to the Emperor he said, " Remember Horatius Flaccus even as you remember me." We learn from his own writings that Horace was fond of warmth and sunny weather ; that his hair was grey early in life ; that he was short and corpulent, and suffered from weak digestion and sore eyes, — a bodily defect very common among the Romans. His manner of living was abstemious, and he was moderate and temperate in his pleasures; and his convivial hours were ever marked by social wit and philosophical wisdom. He died in November of the year 8 B.C., or the early part of December, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, having survived his patron by a few weeks only, was buried near him on the Esquiline hill, and left his property to the Emperor. The dates and order of his publications are as follow : — I. The First Book of the Satires, b.c 35. II. The Second Book of the Satires, between 35 and 30 B.C. III. The Epodes, b.c 29 or 30. IV. The First Three Books of the Odes, between 30 and 24 B.C. V. The First Book of the Epistles, between 24 and 20 b.c. VI. The Carmen Seculare, 17 b.c VII. The Fourth Book of the Odes, between 17 and 13 b.c. VIII. The Second Book of the Epistles, after the Carmen Seculare, but the year is uncertain. IX. Art of Poetry, — quite uncertain. The reader will find his philosophy alluded to in the follow- ing parts of the Satires and Epistles : — LIFE OF HORACE. XI Satires. Bk. I. , Satire i. JJ Bk. II. , Satire 2. First paragraph. JJ JJ Satire 4- Apology for Epicurus. JJ jj Satire 6. JJ JJ Satire 7. By the mouth of Davus, in the last long paragraph. Epistles. Bk. I. , Epistle 1. In the first part. Jj JJ Epistle 4- In the latter part. JJ JJ Epistle 6. In the first part. JJ JJ Epistle 18. In the latter part. JJ JJ Epistle 20. In the latter part. JJ Bk. II., Epistle 2. In the latter part. By the same Author. THE BUCOLICS, or ECLOGUES OF VIRGIL, with Notes based on those in Conington's Edition, a Life of Virgil, more than 100 Vv'oodcuts from Rich's "Antiquities," and an Illustrated Article on the Ancient Musical Instruments, translated into English Heroic Verse. Fcap. 8vo., cloth boards, illuminated, gilt edges, 5s. THE BUCOLICS, translated into Rhythmic Prose, with Notes for the Student. Fcap. 8vo., cloth boards, 2s. 6d. LONGMANS & CO. DOMU S, OR ROMAN PRIVATE HOUSE. The Roman houses were generally built upon the same plan, differing from one another only in the size, number, and arrangement of the apartments they contained, or the extent and character of the ground on which they stood. They were divided into two principal members, as shown by the ground plan annexed. The several apartments mentioned made the nucleus of the house on its ground plan, and are always found ][ j JL C 1 T T E I T tormnHn Ground plan of private house. in every Roman house of any size. The relative situations were always fixed, and they were constructed according to a received model, as shown in the above plan, a a a represents the protliy) um * or entrance passage from the street (for which sec illustration on next page representing the prothyrum), and at its further end the ostium, a door half closed, which was used DOMUS. xni to shut off the atrium (see woodcuts to Atrium on page xiv) from the entrance passage. The pavement was generally mosaic, and the usual word of salutation (salve) was inlaid in coloured stone at the entrance (see illustrations to Pavimentum on pages xix and xx). Janua^ was the street door, as distinguished from the ostium, as shown by the annexed illustration. b b b, in the ground plan, refer to the atrium, or principal apartment in a Roman house, with its appropriate dependences * Frothy rum, or entrance passage from the street. t Janua, front or street door. all round it. as shown by the illustrations on page xiv, and also by the one termed cavcedium (cavum a>,dium\ which shows the atrium from the outside. c c c, in the ground plan, refers to the peristylium, with its appurtenances beyond. The parts of the house belonging to the peristylium were connected by an intermediate room called XIV DOMUS. the tablinum, or one or two corridors termed fauces, and occa- sionally by both. The letters d d d, in the ground plan, refer to the tablinum* as shown by the illustration on page xv. The part immediately in front of the drawing is the floor of the atrium, with a portion * Atrium Tuscanicum, or principal Atrium Tetrastylum, or principal apartment, in the Tuscan style. apartment, supported by four columns. of its * impluvium ; the dark open recess occupying the left half of the middle ground is the tablinum, with the colonnade of the peristylium f showing through, and the small door at the right of it is the faux, or corridor, which also opens upon the peristylium at its further extremity. The apartment is entirely open at both ends, so as to permit a continuous view Cavccdium (cavum czdium), or outside view of the atrium. through both divisions of the house ; but those ends were closed when desired by moveable screens or partitions of wood called tabula, which is evident, from there being a separate passage at the side to afford communication between the atriwn DOMUS. XV and fieristylium, which would not be required if the tablinum * permitted a thoroughfare always through it. The name tablinum is probably derived from these tabulce, or screens. \ Per isty litem, or second and inner divi- * Tablinum, one of the principal pri- sion of a Roman house, generally vate apartments in a Roman house, the domestic apartments occupied adjoining the atrium and fauces ', by the proprietor and family. or corridors, and showing the ara, Compluvium, a large square opening in the centre of the roof which covered the four sides of the atrium, and towards Latrina, showing the washing-places, w.c, &c, and offices near kitchen, in a private house. XVI DOMUS. which three sides converged for the purpose of carrying down the rain into a reservoir {impluviuni) . See woodcut to Atrium Tuscanicum on page xiv. Lairina (lavatrina), (see cut on page xv,) the wash-places and offices contiguous to the kitchens. The two small arches on the right form the kitchen stove. Four steps lead down to the room, and have a hand rail by their side to aid the ascent or descent, the mark of which is shown on the wall. The recess to the left is the latrina^ originally closed by a wooden door, which has left the marks of its hinges and bolt on the edge of the door-frame ; and the mouth of the pipe through which the place was supplied with water is observable in the right-hand corner. Ara, or altar, placed close by the impluvium of a private house, on which the family sacrifice was made. The ara is on the margin of the reservoir, or impluviiwi^ in the right-hand woodcut on page xv, which shows both. Alee were large recesses in, Roman houses of any pretensions to magnificence, generally one on each side of the atrium, furnished with seats, and closed in front with curtains, intended * Cellce, or dormitories for slaves of the house. for the master of the house to receive his visitors in and to enjoy the conversation of his acquaintance* The entrance to the alee is formed by the two large doorways with the curtains drawn aside at the further angle of the chamber on the right and left. (See illustration to Atrium Tuscaiiicwn on p. xiv). * Cellez were dormitories for household slaves, as the annexed DOMUS. XVI 1 illustration represents. They were often found in Roman villas, and the fronts were originally bricked in with only an entrance door. Chalcidicum. — This was a large, low, deep porch, covered with its own roof, supported on pilasters, and appended to the entrance front of a building, and forming a grand entrance to the whole edifice. It was added to private as well as public buildings, not merely as an ornament, but also to give shelter to persons waiting outside to be admitted, or to transact public business in. Chalcidicum, or large entrance porch to a private or public building. Fenestra. — The illustration on p.xviii represents three ancient windows of different designs : the one on the left hand being from a Greek bas-relief in the British Museum ; that on the right from the Vatican Virgil, and the centre one from a marble sarcophagus of a later period found in the Vatican cemetery. In later times the walls of dwelling-houses and rooms were sometimes decorated with imaginary views of country scenery, B XVlll DOMUS. ports, and temples, termed topia, as shown by the annexed illustration. Pavimentum. — A flooring composed of small pieces of brick, tile, stone, and shells, set in a bed of cement, and consolidated by beating with a rammer (pavicula\ which gave rise to the name : afterwards applied to any kind of artificial flooring, even of the most elaborate workmanship, like those shown by the illustrations on next page. Fen est re windows Topici) or landscape paintings. Pavimentum sectile, — This was a flooring composed of pieces of different coloured marbles, cut (secta) into sets of regular form or size, so that when joined together the whole constituted an ornamental design or pattern, as exhibited by the annexed specimen. The objects at the top show the different forms of the pieces with which it is composed : the triangular ones, a and b, consist of serpe?iti?ie and palombino respectively; the hex- agonal, c, of pavonazzetto ; and the square, d, of red porphyry. Pavime?itu7n tesselatiwi, or tesseris structum. — This is a flooring belonging to the class of sectilia, and also of an orna- mental character, composed of coloured marbles. The pieces composing it were cut into regular dies without the admixture of other forms, as in the annexed example, showing part of a pavement in the Thermae of Caracalla at Rome. Square dies (tessclla, tessera) were likewise employed in making other kinds DOMUS. XIX of mosaic pavements, as in the following specimen ; but in that case they were of smaller dimensions and less precise in their angles. Pavimentum vermiculatum. — A mosaic flooring or pavement representing natural objects, both animate and inanimate, in Pavimentum sectile, or flooring composed of pieces of different coloured marble. their real forms and colours, as in a picture. It was composed with small pieces of different coloured marbles, inlaid in a bed of very strong cement, the colours and arrangement of the E'T] L ' : "-"L |i! ■■■! 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 ■ II 1 1 i 1 1 : ' L . !:i:; 1 i , .i : HI '■[■■II : i-.it r^ L ' 1 i_L " L 1.. i'l :H If : ' M 1 l I I 1 N. 1 I I'l \ i- .!:,:,! i ! Illil hi Ml* 'l 1 L . • : ' 1 L l l 1 ! U l i r [ " i:L ! i "f — '— 1 4- -^ u 1 - — Pavimentum tesselatum, flooring with pieces of marble cut in regular dies. pieces being selected and disposed so as to imitate the object designed with a good deal of pictorial effect. The dies were not exactly square, nor laid in parallel lines; but they fol- lowed the sweep and undulations in the contours and colours of the objects reproduced, which, when viewed at a little dis- XX DOMUS. tance, presented a resemblance to the wreathing and twisting of a cluster of worms (vermes), and thus suggested the name. Pavimentum scalpturatum. — An ornamental flooring or pave- ment on which the design is produced by engraving (scalpturd), and perhaps inlaying, but, as the name implies, by a different process or in a different manner from the kinds already de- l iJMj^kM?M Pavimentum vermiculatum, a mosaic flooring representing natural ob- jects, animate or inanimate. Pavimentum scalpturatum, orna- mental flooring on which the design is engraved or inlaid, but by a different process from any of the others. scribed. Though this kind of pavement was simple at first, this style of decorative art was sometimes carried to great perfec- !*! S ! W i- Alexandrinum opus, mosaic flooring for rooms. tion, and in such a way that the effect of a finished cartoon was produced on the pavement by inserting pieces of grey marble DOMUS. XXI for the half-tints into white; then hatching across both with the chisel, and filling in the incisions with black mastic for the shade, so that the whole looks like a finished chalk drawing. The illustration is a fac-simile of one of the groups designed by the artist Beccafiume. Alexandrinum opus. — A particular kind of mosaic work, especially used for the flooring of rooms, and belonging to the class of pavements termed sectilia; the distinctive character of which consisted in this* that the frets or patterns forming the designs were composed of the conjunction of only two colours — red and black, for instance— on a white ground, as in the example, which represents a portion of a pavement in a house at Pompeii. AMPHITHEATRUM. i. Amphitheatrum, a building constructed for the exhibi- tion of gladiatorial combats, and sometimes used for other spectacles. The illustration shows the exterior view. Exterior view of amphitheatrum still standing at Pola in Istria, showing the oval wall divided into stories of arcades, decorated with columns and pilasters. 2. The next illustration shows the interior view of the amphitheatre at Pompeii ; but as the drawing is on a very reduced scale, and indistinct through the dilapidations of the building, it should be compared w r ith the woodcut, No. 3, that follows this, in which full particulars are given. Interior view of amphitheatre, forming an elliptical cup (cavea), set round with seats, containing arena, and other parts enumerated in the next woodcut AMPHITHEATRUM. XX111 3. This woodcut shows a restored section and elevation of a portion of the amphitheatre at Pola. The company entered through the arches on the ground-floor at the left-hand side of the engraving, a is the podium, which is approached by a short staircase springing from the third or inner cor- ridor in the centre of the woodcut. It is raised above the arena by a blank wall, surmounted by a balustrade, under which is seen one of the doorways through which the Restored section and elevation of amphitheatre at Pola, with detailed account of the parts. wild beasts or combatants emerged upon the arena. The staircase, which commences immediately from the ground entrance, leads directly to the first mcenianum (1), or flight, into several of which flights the gradus or circles of seats occu- pied by the public were divided, when the building was lofty, by broad landing-places {prcecinctiones) and raised walls (battel), and' vertically into compartments in the form of an inverted triangle (cunei) by a number of staircases (scalce) which com- municated with the avenues of ingress and egress (vomitorid) within the shell of the building. The spectator entered the XXIV AMPHITHEATRUM. mcenianum i, referred to above, through the doorways (vomi- toria) b, and descended the flights of stairs which divide the rows of seats between them into a wedge-shaped compartment {cuneus), until he came to the particular row where his seat was reserved. The high blank wall into which the entrance (b) opens is the battens, and its object was to separate the various mcmiana and prevent the classes who were only entitled to a seat in the upper mcmiana from descending into the lower ones. A branch staircase diverging to the left leads up to the corridor formed by the arcades of the outer wall, from whence it turns to the right and conducts to the second manianum (2), which is entered and distributed in the same way as the lower one, and separated from the one above by another balteus (c). Other staircases, though they cannot be shown on one section, conduct in like manner to the third mcenianum (3), and to the covered gallery for the women above (d). The three solid arches in the centre of the engraving, constructed in the main brickwork of the building, form a succession of corridors encircling the whole edifice, from which the different staircases spring, while at the same time they support the seats of the cavea and the flights of stairs by which the company entered or left the amphitheatre. M(cnianu?n, showing ranges of seats with compartments (cuna) t from the theatre at Pompeii. 4. This illustration gives a separate view of mamia?ia y or entire ranges of seats rising in concentric circles between one AMPHITHEATRUM. XXV landing-place (prcecinctio) and another, but divided perpen- dicularly into a number of compartments (cimei) by the flights of steps {scalce) which the spectators descended or ascended to and from their places. The engraving shows a portion of two mceniafia containing three cimci. Each maniamim comprised an entire circuit. THEATRUM. (Orchestra^ Pulpitum, Proscenium.) The Roman theatre was originally a temporary wooden scaffolding, erected for the occasion, and when no longer needed, pulled down. It was afterwards constructed of brick or stone, with considerable architectural beauty and magnificence of decoration. It was usually built upon a level space within the town, and consisted externally of a semicircular elevation at one end, comprising one or more stories of arcades, through which the spectators entered and Circular end of the theatre oi Marcellus. passed by staircases constructed within them to a number of semicircular tiers of seats in the interior of the building, which were enclosed by the external wall described, and exhibited by the illustration showing the circular end of THEATRUM. XXV11 the theatre of Marcellus as it now exists in partial ruins at Rome. Two stories only remain — the lower one, of the Doric order, partly embedded in the soil : over this the Ionic is more perfect. But there was originally a third story, of the Corinthian order, which has entirely disappeared. The circular line of the plan is distinctly apparent in the drawing, as well as the columns which decorated each story and the stonework of the arches between them, which formed so many open arcades, now filled up by the wall and windows of modern houses, into a ^m I CJ C=^J (_. CJ Mir m ^ m Ground plan of Pompey's theatre at Rome. which the edifice has been transformed. The opposite ex- tremity of the building, which contained the stage, apartments for the use of the actors, and conveniences for storing property, was flat, forming as it were a chord or base to the semicircle, and was decorated externally by a portico (porticus), (see article on Amphitheati'um, the exterior view,) sometimes of consider- able extent, containing numerous colonnades, open or covered walks, and corridors, and forming a favourite resort for the idle and fashionable loungers of the city. A portion of these appurtenances, sufficient to give an accurate notion of the entire structure, is exhibited by the lowest part of the annexed illustration, which represents the ground plan of Pompey's XXV111 THEATRUM. theatre at Rome, showing the portico at the bottom marked in black lines, then the walls of the scene and stage, and beyond them the circular seats for the spectators, which were enclosed externally by a wall similar to that exhibited in the first illus- tration. The interior was open to the sky, having no roof, and consisted of the following essential parts, distributed in the manner shown by the annexed engraving representing the • ooo o 9 © O O O O & o & © © O O • • • • Ground plan of theatre at Herculaneum. ground plan of the theatre at Herculaneum, which is con- structed upon the Roman model. The body of the house (cavea), where the spectators sat, consists of a number of semi- circular rows of seats formed by deep steps (gradus) rising in concentric lines one above the other, which were sub- divided horizontally into tiers (mceniand) y (see Amphithea- trum for the terms,) comprising several rows each by broad THEATRUM. XXIX landing-places (prcecinctiones, a a, a a), and vertically into cuneiform compartments (cunti, b b b b b) by a number of staircases (scalce, a a a a a), down which the spectators de- scended to the row where their respective places were situated, upon entering the house through the open doorways (vomitoria, Orchestra of Greek or Roman theatre. b b b b b) at the head of each staircase, which were reached by means of passages and covered lobbies constructed in the shell of the building, precisely in the same manner as explained and illustrated by the text and woodcut to restored section of amphitheatrum. At the bottom of the cavea was the orchestra (c), an exact half-circle, and answering in use and locality to Proscenium, stage of theatre, bounded by the permanent wall of scena at the back and orchestra in front. our pzf, for it contained the seats appropriated to the magis- trates and persons of distinction, and was not used like the Greek orchestra for a chorus and musicians. A little in XXX THEATRUM. advance of this was a low wall (pulpit um or proscenii pulpiium, c), forming the front of the stage (proscenium, d d) towards the spectators, and separating it from the orchestra. At the back of the stage there was a lofty wall of brick or masonry (scena, e e e), which formed the permanent scene of the theatre, with three grand entrances for the chief actors ; and behind this the apartments for the actors and property (postscenium, e e), or what w r e call the part " behind the scenes." (See illustration to proscenium for postscenium, boundary wall of which is shown in a half-tint at the back.) The two divisions in advance of the stage on each side of it, like our stage boxes (//), are supposed to have been reserved as places of honour for the chief magistrates of Herculaneum, for they have each a private entrance from the portico at the back of the house by a separate staircase (g g), but they do not appear to have been usual in every theatre. CIRCUS. The annexed illustration shows a ground plan of a Roman racecourse called Circus. It was laid out in an oblong form, terminating in a semicircle at one extremity, and enclosed at the opposite end by a pile of buildings called the town (oppi- dum), under which the stalls (carceres) for the horses and chariots were distributed, marked a a in the engraving. b represents along low wall called spina, built lengthwise down the course, so as to divide it like a barrier into two distinct parts, and at each of its ends was placed a goal (meta), round which the chariots turned ; the one nearest to the stables (c) being termed meta prima, the farther one (d) meta secunda, d represents the goal at the bottom. The stalls (a a) are arranged in the segment of a circle, of which the centre falls ^ ■=— ^ g s, ^ Ground plan of ci?rus or Roman racecourse. exactly in the middle point (e) between the first meta and the side of the building at which the race commenced, e repre- sents a chalked rope {alba lined) fastened across from two small marble pillars (hermulce), and loosened away from one side as soon as all the horses were brought up fairly abreast fcf it, and the signal for the start had been given. The out-building f is the Emperor's box (pulvinar). and the one on the opposite side (g) is supposed to have been intended for the magistrate xxxn CIRCUS. called editor spectaculorum, at whose charge the games were exhibited. In the centre of the end occupied by the stalls was a grand entrance (h), called porta pompce, through which the Circensian procession entered the ground before the races commenced. Another one was constructed at the circular extremity (i), called porta triwnphalis, through which the victors left the ground in a sort of triumph. A third is situated on the right side (k), called porta libit ine?is is, through which Ancient racecourse at Constantinople. the killed or wounded drivers were conveyed away ; and two others (l l) were left close by the carceres through which the chariots were driven into the ground. The external and internal elevation of a circus was much like that of an amphitheatre (see Amphitheatrum), though the annexed engraving will afford a fair idea, as, though a ruin, it shows distinctly the arcades and outer shell of the building ; some fragments of the rows of seats for the spec- tators ; the spina, with its obelisks and columns nearly perfect ; the vieta p7'ima on the right hand of it ; the oppidimi and carceres arranged on a curved line, as in the first example ; and^one of the gates through which the chariots entered the ground, like those marked l l on the ground-plan. FORUM. i. The original meaning of the word forum was the un- covered space of ground left in front of a tomb, in which the same right of property existed as in the sepulchre itself. 2. A market-place, consisting of a large open area in the centre, where the country people exhibited their produce for sale, surrounded by outbuildings and colonnades, under which the different trades erected stalls and displayed their wares or merchandise. In small towns a single forum would suffice for different markets; but in large cities, like Rome, almost The cattle and vegetable markets at Rome. every class of provision dealers had a market of their own distinguished by the name of the produce sold in it — z.% forum boarium, the cattle-market ; forum oliiorium, the cabbage or vegetable market ; both of which are represented in the annexed illustration, which also distinctly shows the manner in which an ancient market-place was laid out and enclosed. 3. The Forum, i. e., a large open area of a nature somewhat similar to the last one described, but laid out upon a much more magnificent scale (see woodcut on page xxxvi), and intended as c XXXIV FORUM. a place for holding public meetings in the open air, and for the transaction of judicial and commercial business, rather than a fc^r^m;ClC A reus ox fornix, triumphal Career, or gaol, showing the career inferior, arch. or dark underground dungeon, having access to the career interior, or middle gaol, by an aperture in the roof, which also opened into the place for custodia communis, or lighter imprisonment, through an aperture in the roof. mere provision-market. It was surrounded by the principal public buildings and offices of state, courts of justice, basilicce* * Ground plan of a basilica, consisting of central nave and two side aisles divided from it by a row of columns on either side. At the further extremity of the principal nave a portion was railed off, as shown at the right hand of the cut, like the chancel of a church, to form a more private recess from the noise and activity of traffickers, in which the judges sat and the counsel pleaded. places of worship, and spacious colonnades of one or more stories, in which the merchants, bankers, and money-dealers FORUM XXXV had their counting-houses and transacted their business. The famous Roman Forum is nothing but a mass of ruins. The illustration on page xxxvi gives a plan of the Forum afforded by the excavations at Pompeii. The central area is paved with large square flags, on which the bases for many statues still remain, and surrounded by a Doric colonnade of two stories, backed by a range of spacious and lofty buildi ngs all round. The principal entrance is through an archway (fornix, a, see page xxxiv), towards the left-hand corner of the plan, and by the side of a temple of the Corinthian order (b), supposed to have been dedicated to Jupiter. On the opposite flank of this temple is another entrance into the Forum, and by its side the public 11 r ii ; r * The whole of the interior of a basilica was surrounded by an upper gallery raised upon the columns which divided the aisles below, as in this engraving, which shows a longitudinal section and elevation down the centre of the ancient Basilica at Verona. These upper galleries were intended for spectators and loungers. At the end is shown a tribune, thrown out instead of the chancel in the woodcut on page xxxiv to answer the same purpose as the recess there spoken of. prison {career, c — see the illustration to Career on page xxxiv), in which the bones of two men with fetters on their legs were found. Adjacent to this is a long, shallow building (d), with several entrances from the colonnade, which was probably a public granary (horreum). The next building is another temple of the Corinthian order (e) dedicated to Venus. It stands in an area enclosed by a flank wall and peristyle, to which the XXXVI FORUM. principal entrance is in a side street, abutting on the Forum, and flanking the basilica (f — see illustration to Basilica on page xxxv), beyond which there are three private houses out of the precincts of the Forum. n 6aL * — lli— — i hi 1 Plan of the Forum excavated at Pompeii, and answering in its arrangements to the one at Rome. The further or southern side of the square is occupied by three public edifices (g, h, i), nearly similar to one another in their plans and dimensions. All these have been decorated with columns and statues, fragments of which still remain on FORUM. XXXV11 the floor ; but there are no sufficient grounds for deciding the uses for which they were destined. The first is merely con- jectured to have been a council-chamber (curia) ; the second, the treasury (cerarium) ; and the last, another curia. Beyond this is another street opening on the Forum, and turning the angle are the remains of a square building (k) for which no satisfactory use can be suggested. The space behind is occu- pied by the sites of three private houses. The next object is CVS UCTAtfl* E ET HE ■' AEUIS IVNOHI S ° ? T" r^L.U ?--: r Porticus, ground plan of portico of Octavia, with the temples of Ju- piter and Juno within its pre- cincts. The double row of six columns on the right marks the principal entrance. Chalcidicutn, or large, low, and deep porch, covered with its own roof, supported on pilasters, and appended to the entrance front of many public buildings. a large plot of ground (l) surrounded by a colonnade (porticus) and a cloister (crypto), and decorated in front where it faces the Forum by a spacious entrance-porch or vestibule (chalci- dicum), all of which were constructed at the expense of a female named Eumachia. (See the illustrations above to porticus and chalcidicum, and to chalcidicum * on page xxxviii.) XXXV111 FORUM. Beyond this is a small temple (m), upon a raised basement, attributed by some to Mercury, by others to Quirinus, and adjoining to it an edifice (n) with a large semicircular tribune or absis at its further extremity, supposed to have been a Ground plan of public edifice, consisting of A A A, three corridors or crypta, surrounded on three sides by a blank wall decorated with fresco paintings. On the inside are windows opening on a colon- nade (po?-ticus) i marked bbbb, which surrounds a large central area (c). meeting-hall for the Augustals or a town-hall (senacuhim) for the Pompeian senate. The rear of both these structures is covered by the premises belonging to a fuller's establishment (fullonica * — see the illustration on page xxxix). The last structure (o) is a magnificent building commonly called the Pantheon, with various appurtenances behind it, so called from twelve pedestals placed in a circle round an altar in their centre, supposed to have supported the statues of the Dii Magni, or twelve principal divinities, but the style of the decorations and the subject of the numerous paintings which ornamented its walls make it probable that it was a banqueting- hall for the Augustals. FORUM. XXXIX Fuller in his tub. Ground plan of fuller's washhouse and premises at Pompeii. A, the principal entrance from the main street. B, the porter's lodge. c, the impluvium. D, a fountain with jet of water. E, a spacious apartment opening on the courtyard for drying clothes. F, a tablinum, with a room on each side where customers were received. G, closet for clothes already scoured. H, adjoining rooms where active trade operations were carried on. I, wash-house with tank for simple washing and rinsing. K, the place where dirt and grease were got out by rubbing and treading with the feet. LLLLLL, six niches on the sides of the room, separated from one another by low walls about the height of a man's armpits, in each of which was placed a tub where the fuller stood and trod out the impurities of the clothes with bare feet, raising himself on his arms to do so, which rested, as shown by the engraving, on the side walls. M M M, three smaller tanks for soaking clothes before washing. N, fountain or well for workmen, o, back gate opening on a small street contiguous to that portion of the premises in which the active part of the trade was performed, r P, spare rooms. Q, the furnace. R, apartment contiguous. S, stairs ascending to an upper story. T T T, apartments opening on the courtyard, painted in fresco, appropriated for the use of the master and mistress of the establish- ment. The rooms at the bottom of the plan without references are shops facing the street, and belonging to other tradesmen. TELA. Tela, a weaver's loom. The earliest looms, and those common among the Romans, were upright ones, such as are still used at the Gobelin's manufactory in India, for making tapestry, and in Iceland. The illustration,* though taken from an Egyptian model and slightly restored on one of its sides, exhibits distinctly all the different parts enumerated by the Latin writers, viz., the cross-piece or yoke (jugum), connecting * Tela, a weaver's loom. f Liciatorium, leash-rods shown upon a primitive Icelandic loom. the two uprights at the top ; the cloth beam (insubuliwi) imme- diately under it, round which the cloth was rolled as the work progressed ; the pair of treadles or leash-rods (/materia), which are also shown by the engraving annexed (Liciatorium) ft and are used to decussate the threads of the warp so as to open a shed for the passage of the shuttle {alveolus) , % or for X Alveolus, weaver's shuttle, the needle (radius), which conveys the weft across it. Below these is the reed (arundo), which is passed alternately over TELA. xli and under every thread of the warp, in order to separate the whole of them into two parcels for receiving the leashes (licia), and finally the yarn-beam (scapus), to which the threads or yarns forming the length of the cloth are fastened. In this loom the web is driven from below upwards ; in the next specimen {tela jugalis) it is driven downwards from above ; but in both of them the weaver stood at his work instead of sitting. 2. Tela jugalis* This is the commonest and simplest kind J IPL * Tela jugalis ; weaver's loom with no cloth beam [insubuhim). Subtemen, the weft or woof, i.e., the cross thread passed alternately under and over the warp [stamen). (See engraving to stamen.) of loom that was used by the Romans, as shown by the annexed illustration, and so called because it had no cloth beam {insubulum) , the yarns being merely attached to a yoke (jugum) on its top. The word tela is also used for the warp (as in Virgil's Georgics, i., 285), i.e., the series of strongly xlii TELA. twisted threads or yarns extended on a loom, into which the finer ones of the weft (subtemen — see engraving for subte?nen on page xli) are woven to make a piece of cloth. In this sense the word is commonly accompanied by such epithets as starts, recta, pendula — all of which imply that the warp was fixed in a vertical position, and consequently upon an upright loom, such as is exhibited by both the illustrations, viz., tela and tela jugalis. The annexed illustrations show the stamen or spun thread, consisting of several fibres drawn down from the top of the distaff {colus) and twisted together by the thumb, and the rotary motion of the spindle {fusus) as it hung in a perpen- dicular line from the distaff, the upright portion suggesting the name. All these particulars are shown by the left-hand wood- cut representing a female spinning, while the other woodcuts show two spindles with thread round them and one empty. Neo, to spin or twist a number of separate fibres of wool or flax into a single thread. The annexed illustration, repre- senting Hercules with the distaff and spindle of Omphale, will elucidate the manner in which the process of spinning is conducted and explain the terms employed to describe the different steps in the operation. The loaded distaff {colus cornpta or lana amictd) was fixed to the left side of the spinner by running the end of the stick through the girdle TELA. xliii (cingiduni), instead of which the modern women use their apron strings. A number of fibres (stamina) are then drawn down from the top with the left hand {ducere lanam) and fastened to the spindle (fztsus), which is then set twirling with the thumb and finger, as boys spin a teetotum {stamina ne?-e), (pollice versare), (versare pollice fusum). The rotary motion of Coins, or distaff, as shown by the right-hand Hercules, with the figure, made of a cane stick about a yard distaffand spindle long, slit at the top so as to form a sort ot of Omphale. basket to contain the wool or flax for spin- ning. The ring is a sort of cap to keep the mass together. The figure on the left shows a woman with a distaff filled {coins ple7ia or lana amictd) in her left hand, the drawn thread (stamen) depending from it, and twisting the spindle (fnstis) with the fingers of her right hand. the spindle as it hangs suspended (see the left-hand woodcut above) twists these fibres into a thread (filum), which is con- stantly fed from above by drawing out more fibres from the distaff as the twist tightens {dncere stamina versato fnso). When the length of thread has grown so long that the spindle nearly touches the ground, the portion made is taken up and wound round the spindle, and the same process is again resumed, until other lengths are twisted and the spindle is entirely covered with thread so that it can contain no more, when the thread is broken from the distaff (rumpere supremas colos)> and the whole rolled up into a ball (glomus) ready for use. BALNEA. The illustration below on the left shows a plan of a complete set of public baths, including conveniences for warm and cold bathing, as well as sudorific or vapour baths, and provided with a double set of apartments for the male and female sexes. These baths had six distinct entrances (i, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6) from the street, of which the first three were for visitors, 4 and 5 for the slaves and purposes connected with the business of the establishment, and the last gave access to the women's baths, which had no communication with the larger set. Balinea or balnea, ground plan of the double set of baths at Pompeii. Commencing the circuit of the plan by the first door (1). at the bottom of the plan on the left hand, we have: — /£ Stela, the female robe corresponding to the toga of the men. indumentuni over the chemise (tunica intima), and fastened with a double girdle (succincta), one under the breast and the other over the hips, so as to produce an ample display of small irregular folds (rugce) when compressed by and drawn through its ligatures. Thus far die sto/a does not materially differ from the outer tunic usually worn by the Roman ladies. But what constituted its distinguishing feature was an appendage TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. Ixi termed instita, sewed on under the girdle (subsuta), Hor., Sat. L, 2, io 5 and trailing behind so as to cover the back half of the feet {inedios pedes) from the ankle bones {talos). The figure on page lx. is supposed to be Veturia, the mother of Coriolanus. The instita was not a circular flounce added all round to the tunic, but a long breadth or scarf, hanging behind and conceal- ing the heels or half the feet. Tunica. — The ordinary and principal under garment of the Greeks and Romans of both sexes, corresponding very nearly in its general form, use, and character with the shirty the chemise, the frock, or the blouse of modern times. i. (Xt-uv antyitiavyciKog, colobium.) The ordinary tunic of the male Greek and Roman consisted of a plain woollen shirt girded round the loins, and reaching to the knees or thereabouts, with two short sleeves which just covered the del- toid muscle, or upper portion of the arms as far as the armpit (jua<7x«X?j) . The working population wore it in their daily Ordinary plain woollen tunic. pursuits, as the above woodcut shows ; but the upper classes, and, indeed, most others on festivals and holidays, when they were dressed in full attire, had either the toga or some garment over it if Roman, and the pallium, or some other Greek gar- lxii TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. ment if Greek, which of course in the annexed figures hides most of the under vest or tunic. The figure on the left is supposed to be Aristides with the pallium over his tunic, and on the right a Roman with his toga outside his. These two articles Figures representing Aristides on the left, with his pallium over his tunic, and a Roman on the right with his toga over it. constitute the complete attire usually worn by the great mass of the free population in ancient Greece and Italy, and are as intimately connected as the shirt and coat of modern times. Tunica, or ^irwv, with only one short sleeve. 2. A tunic (Xitoju krepufiaaXaXoc) made with only one short TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. lxiii sleeve covering the deltoid muscle of the left arm as far as the armpit, as shown by the figure at the bottom of page lxii, which represents a young slave going to market with a purse in one hand and a basket in the other. 3. ('E&.jju/c, exomis.)* A tunic which only covered the left shoulder (w^oc), leaving the right one entirely exposed, as shown by the figure on the left below. It was often made of fur, and commonly worn on the stage, by the labouring population, slaves, artists, and even females addicted to the chase or war, as by Diana and the Amazons. * Tunic called exomis, f Tunic called iirwixig. J The slit tunic. 4. ('E7rw/i/c )f A tunic worn by the females of Greece, so called because fastened with brooches on the top of each shoulder at the point where it joins the collar bone. It was of wool, and fastened by a girdle worn low upon the hips. See the middle woodcut. 5. (2x tr/ ™£ X lT <*»'-)% The slit tunic, which was only sewed close up from the bottom on the left side, leaving a long slit on the right for the purpose of allowing free action to the limbs, and through which the greater part of the thigh would be seen in active exercise. It was usually fastened by brooches on the lxiv TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. shoulder, as in the middle figure, one of which maybe supposed to have come undone in the right-hand figure. 6. Tunica manicata, or manuleata (x LT ^ y x f 'P^ w ™c> or Ka P~ 7tw-oc). A tunic with long sleeves reaching down to the hands or wrists, like the French blouse. In the early age long sleeves were not worn by the male population either of Greece or Italy, nor generally by females, but they were afterwards adopted as a luxury from the foreigner, and became very common. Tunic with long sleeves down to the hands or wrists. The figure is supposed to represent the pcedagogus^ or children's attendant, in the celebrated group of Niobe; and he was of r J y ;mica talaris. f Hercules as a tragic actor. TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. lxv course a slave and foreigner, who taught the Roman children Greek, as a French bonne might teach English children French. 7. * Tunica talaris {x lT ^ v ™$nPwY A tunic with long skirts reaching down to the ankle joints, commonly worn in early times by both sexes of the Ionian colonies, and in use at Athens until the time of Pericles. It was sometimes very full and loose over the arms, as in the case of the figure of a female on the left, and sometimes reaching down to the wrists, as shown by the example on the right of a tragic actor f in the character of Hercules (see page lxiv). The Romans considered this tunic as extremely unmanly, and never adopted it as part of their male national costume. 8. Timica muliebris. A woman's tunic, generally longer and closer than those worn by men, and fastened by a girdle imme- Tunica muliebris, or woman's tunic. diately under the bosom, instead of round the loins. The middle figure on page lxiii shows the tunic of the Dorian women, which is an exception to the usual style ; that of the Ionian women is shown by the left-hand fgire of the two on page lxiv, and the example above shows the same article with a half-sleeve reaching nearly to the elbow, and having a long slit Ixvi TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. on the outside, the edges of which are connected at intervals by a set of studs or brooches, so as to leave a series of open loops between them. The article on stela shows the principal tunic of the Roman lady. 9. Tunica interior and intima. The under and undermost tunic. Both sexes were in the habit of wearing two tunics, and persons of delicate constitutions sometimes would put on as The under and undermost tunic. many as four, in which case the outer one is the tunic (tunica), and the under one tunica interior, or intima. The above illustration shows a figure in two tunics very distinctly clad in the tunica interior. Figure of a Greek female taking off the tunica interior. TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. lxvii marked, the under one with long sleeves and a skirt which reaches halfway between the knee and the ankle ; the outer one with short sleeves and a skirt which terminates at the middle of the thigh, and a girdle round the waist, which compresses both. But the ordinary kind of tunic worn next the skin by women was made with short sleeves, and rather loose round the neck; very much like a modern chemise, as shown by the examples at bottom of page lxvi, the one on the left from a Roman bas- relief, and the one on the right representing a Greek female taking off her chemise. Another sort of tunic, called recta* (opQooTaliao) was some- times worn, w%ven in one piece all round like our stocking, which filled in to the waist, and took the form of the figure without requiring any girdle to keep it adjusted to the person, * Recta, or tunic woven in one piece. as was necessary with the common tunic, which was made of equal width from top to bottom. It consequently hung down in straight {redd) folds from the neck to the feet, as the annexed figure of Ceres shows. The expression tunieatus corresponds often with our phrase "in his shirt," as opposed to togatus, "in his coat;" so the phrase tunicata qiries means either the ease and independence of country life, as in dishabille, or the reverse, indicating lxviii TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. that a person is obliged to lay aside his toga to work in his tunic. So in Horace, Ep. i., 7, 65, of the lower classes, whose daily occupations compelled them to wear a tunic, only without the toga. SATIRE L ERRATA TO BOOK I. OF THE SATIRES. Page 5, two lines from bottom, after " Ro??ie" read "to answer to his hail" Page 7, Note 3, for "bushels" read "pecks" and " six thousand" for "25,000" in text. Three lines lower, for " nie" read "71" Page 8, eight lines from the bottom, after "heart" read " and when at home." Page 9, omit the word " Horace " to the paragraph. Page 17, line 12, omit the word "at" Page 57, line 9, for "jame" read "fane." Page 64, line 2, omit the word "up." cockcrow knock at his door, says, " Happy husbandmen ! " Another, dragged from coun- try seat to Rome, declares that those alone are blest who live at Rome. The lxviii TOGA, STOLA, TUNICA, AND PALLA. that a person is obliged to lay aside his toga to work in his tunic. So in Horace, Ep. i., 7, 65, of the lower classes, whose daily occupations compelled them to wear a tunic, only without the toga. SATIRE I. This Satire is directed against the habit of finding fault with fate, and the envy of others' condition, that was then so prevalent among men, and declares the cause of this habit and envy to be the practice of amassing money without spending it ; and of deluding one's self with the idea of enjoying old age and wealthy ease at some future time, that never really comes. The Augustan age was one of foppery rather than crime. Horace. How is't, dear Patron, that no man lives happy in that lot which or fixed choice has given him, or chance thrown in his way, but praises those who follow opposite pur- suits to his ? " Blest are ye merchants,*' says the soldier, now worn out in limb by hard campaigns. And yet the trader, when the ^erce winds ^S *SZ? toss his bark, says, " Warfare is to be pre- ferred to this."- 2 Well, pray why not?^^**^- They meet in battle's shock, and in brief and answers 1U space comes speedy death, or gladdening victory. Again, the man who's skilled in precedents of equity and written law, when clients at cockcrow knock at his door, says, " Happy husbandmen ! " Another, dragged from coun- try seat to Rome, declares that those alone are blest who live at Rome. The 6 SATIRE I. other cases of this kind — so numerous are i Literally, are able to t h ev — ! would stop the most persistent argu- tire out r abius, who was J r i o a Roman knight, remark- ftient. able for pertinacity in philosophical argument. To save my taking up your time, just hear the issue of all this. If any god were but to say, " Well, here : I'll see your wishes carried out ; for you, who were just now a soldier, shall turn merchant ; you, just now a barrister, shall take up farming life ; come, change your places, pass away; you from 2 Eia is a particle this side, and you from that. 2 Come, come, expressing impatience. - I say, why do you linger there ? I hey would not care to change ; and yet they may be happy, if they will. What reason is there to prevent the king of heaven from swelling 3 implying the strength out 3 both cheeks with rage, and vowing that of his anger. ° ° henceforth he'll lend no kindly ear to prayers they make ? But that I may not treat this lightly, just as one who treats of sportive themes, — although what does prevent one telling truth in playful mood, as often tutors give their pupils cakes caressingly, to make them care to learn their ABC ? — yet still I say, to drop all jest, let me search out the graver truth. The man who works the heavy earth with his hard plough : the cheating innkeepers of'the wo C r^ is -o k n e e°se r e U s Sf ' 4 ° ne sees : the soldier and the merchant too, or "you have." w j 10 rec ki ess speed o'er every sea, say that they bear their toil with this intent, that when they're old, they may retire to ease and safety, when they've gained security from want ; — just as the tiny ant, so diligent, — for SATIRE I. 7 it's a case in point, say they — drags with its mouth whate'er it can, and adds it to the heap it's piling up, for it knows well what times may come, and guards against them well. And yet this ant when — as some poet sa^s, — *" Aquarius makes dull the ended 1 a parody of some . . epic poet's line. year, — both stays withm its hole, and care- Literally, creeps forth fully enjoys what it acquired before; while t0 nQ place ' you nor summer's blazing heat, nor winter's cold, nor fire, nor sea, nor sword, would move from keen pursuit of gain ; nay, nought would stay you, could you but prevent your class outstripping you in wealth. And pray, why love you so with fear to hide in stealthily dug hole enormous mass of silver or of gold ? The Miser. Because, were one to spend it, it would dwindle to a 2 paltry sum. 3 The "as" was about tt Tr - .- . , , . a penny in value. Horace. Yes, true \ but if you don t buy what you really want, what honourable use is there in mere accumulation ? E'en suppose the pro- duce of your threshing-floor comes up to 3 five- * Centum miiia mo- J ° x diorum, sc , 100,000 and-twenty thousand sacks of corn, yet still, bushels. through this, you'll not be capable of eating more than me ; as, if you were to carry, as perhaps you might, upon your laden back, surrounded by your slaves, a net-bag full of bread, you still would get but just as much as one who carried nought. Or, tell me, what 't would matter to the man who lived on just so much as nature could not do without, if he owned i sixty or six hundred than hf ff-acTef ; "aTeT" ^ means ploughs by means a\,i ca r of his servants, i.e., owns. 8 SATIRE I. The Miser. I can't tell ; but still 'tis joy to take from a large store. Horace. And yet, if you let us take just the same from smaller store, why should you praise your barns more than our lesser bins ? Tis Inon e s rall and rna lthu? J ust M tnou g n vou wanted but a *cask, per- ^ of a pint. ' haps, or wine-glass full of water, and still were 2 De impii^ easiness, to say, "I'd rather take 2 with ease from and ex difficulty. J some large stream than at some pains get just the same from this small spring that ^t^^^%^^ close by; and so it is that the 3 rough its current. fl 00( j bears off and hurries on together with the bank all whom too great abundance gratifies. Yet he who only wants the little that one cannot do without, nor drinks from stream disturbed by mud, nor loses life in Horace here antici- the rough flood. But some one argues : — pates, and answers an ° ° objection the miser might many men, misled by wrong desire of fame, say no sum is enough, because we all are rated by the money we possess. What would you do with them ? Why, bid them live a wretched life, since they act thus of their free will; as wretched as, at Athens, some rich miser was, who (as they say) was wont to thus despise what people said of him: — An epic line slightly " Aha ! the Public hiss, but in my heart altered. _ ...... T , I say I m right, directly that I gaze upon the coins in my strong-box." As says some poet, 4 Horace was going to this is thirsty Tantalus who tries to catch Tan'taiJs/' buJ 1 b Inter, the water as it rolls off from his lips. Well, ^Jterisirc lmieTat his why that laugh ? but change the name, and 2??!L n t^m^d S bSthen the story's told of you: you sleepless & £ e y . philosophers of gloat o'er bags of money gained from every SATIRE I. Very unsubstantial 1 Ironical, source, and yet you're forced to touch them not as though tabooed, or else you feel but such delight in them as painting gives the sense. Pray don't you know the good of money to you, or the use it is ? You may buy bread and herbs, your pint of wine, and more, all else, which if our nature lacked, it would feel pain. Or, pray, is this your joy ? To dread thieves' villany, the firing of your house, or lest your slaves should steal your stores and run away ? I'd ever pray to be extremely poor in blessings such as these. Horace. But if your frame be seized with chill, and then get racked with pain, or if some other accident confine you to your bed, then have you friends to sit close by the couch, to get the poultices, to beg the doctor to restore your strength, and give you back to loving child or relative ? Not so : your wife don't want you to be well and strong, nor yet your son; your neighbours and acquaintances, aye, all the world detests you heartily. And, pray, are you surprised that since you value money more than all besides, none give the love you don't deserve ? Nay, should you think to bind your kindred to you, and keep them your friends without expense, you'd miserably waste your toil, as all those would who tried to teach a 2 wretched ass to trot (like horse) a Aseiius: thediminu- - , . . . . . _ _ _ tive, among its several obedient to reins upon the plain of Mars, meanings, expresses con- In fine, be there some limit to your search emp for gain, and since you have more than you Horace replies to his own supposition. 10 SATIRE I. had, why, feel less dread of poverty, and now begin to stay your toil, since you have gained what you once wished to gain, lest you should do as several have done before, i Ummidius was no- 'Ummidius for instance (and the story is not body in particular. J long) ; he was so rich, he had to count his sacks of gold, and yet so mean, he never dressed aught better than a slave, and used to dread until his latest day, lest want of life's bare necessaries should o'erwhelm 2 Like ciytemnestra, him. 2 But a freedwoman, the bravest of all wh^kiikd her husband Tyndarus' line, cleft him in twain with her Agamemnon. ^^ ^ The Miser. Pray, then, what do you bid me 8 Mamius was a great do ? Live like to worthless 3 profligates, or profligate ; Cassius No- # A ° mentanus spent ^56,000 like the glutton and the rake ? in gluttony and de- . bauchery. Horace. Ah ! now you hesitate not to com- pare two cases diametrically opposite. I do not, when I say, " Don't be a miser," bid you turn out an abandoned scamp and worthless wretch. Tanaiswasafreedman There surely is some difference between of Maecenas: nothing ,-, i i ,i j t further was known of the the eunuch and the ruptured man. I now at er-m- aw o ise ms. ^ q b ac k unto the point from whence I first 4 "Nemo ut avarus'* set out, 4 I mean that no one miser is himself for " neminem avarum.' This construction is found content with what he does, but rather praises rarely even in Cicero and . . . Nepos, and again in those who follow opposite pursuits, and pines Satire iii. line 115, of this .... , . ... , book. with jealousy because his neighbours goat has teats more filled with milk than his, and does not (as he ought) contrast his own lot with the lot of all those poorer men, but ever tries to pass now this, now that man in the race for gold. So, as he hurries on, a richer SATIRE 1. IT man is always in his way, just as the poet Virgil says, — "When now the hoofed horse a parody of Virgil's swiftly drags along the car from barriers let loose;" — just so, I say, the charioteer drives close upon the heels of steeds that now outstrip his own, nought caring for the 'man once passed, who's riding in the ruck. . 1 'Auriga,' not 'equus' * ° is understood. And so it is that seldom can we find a man to say he has lived happily, and to quit life 2 Horace was himself as sated guests can quit the feast, well pleased slightly blear-eyed but ° x ' x forgot his own small de= with all the time he spent in it. feet in satirizing the giar- x # ing one of Cnspmus. But stay, I've said enough, nor will I write Cnspinus was a garrulous J ° Stoic philosopher. To another word, lest you should think I'd robbed rob his shelves of books . would mean to imitate blear-eyed Cnspmus shelves of books. his garrulity. SATIRE II, A satire written against every kind of excess, and to show the general inconsistency of men. The main argument is contained in line 24. 1 The term "collegia" And so the 1 guilds forsooth of female flute- is used ironically. players, the vagrant quacks, the ragamuffins, 2 As spots of mud clung ballet-girls, and 2 toadies too, — yes, they and to the boots, so they clung ° ' to the rich. all like them are sad and terribly distressed sMarcusTigeiiiusHer- because 3 Tigellius the singer and the music- mogenes was a singer and , , , . , ••11 1 musicmaster,— a friend master s dead. And certainly he patronised of Julius Csesar. ,1 -,-> them well. 4 Quotes quite an op- 4 Yet here's a man, who, through a fear the posite case. . world should say he is extravagant, would never give a needy friend enough to keep cold hunger from the door. Yet if you ask 5«'Stringat" implies a third the reason why he wickedly 5 spends bougns aP o°f r trees, the all that splendid property his grandfather and fE5S£ 1 2!?£ te£ father left, by buying all the dainties that he eft bare * can with borrowed means, he answers, Tis be- 6 The recta narratio. cause 6 I do not care to be thought mean and pusillanimous. And so the spendthrifts praise him, while the misers blame. Fufidius the banker, rich in land, rich too in money placed at interest, fears lest he should be 7 The Romans reck- called both an abandoned scamp and worth. oned interest by the , , . ftl . month; so 5 per cent, less wretch. ' Sixty per cent, he wrings out per month becomes 60 r 1 • • • i 1 • 1 per cent, per annum. from his principal, and just as men are reck- SATIRE II. 13 less in their course, so he more fiercely grinds them down. He hunts up all the bonds of young men ruled by angry sires, who, now . ° , - / , , , , The Laetorian law sixteen years old, have donned the manly forbade any one younger -.-,-., cc r\ than twenty-five years of garb. Who does not cry out, U great age from concluding a king of heaven," on the instant he hears po s^ e 6bits. ransactlOE this? Well, true ; yet surely on himself he spends _ ^ u £ ^ sed a P° 1 °s ist a sum commensurate with what he gains ? Not so. You'd scarcely credit how un- kindly he will treat himself,— indeed, so much so, that the father whom the l comedy J The Seif-Tormemor 7 J was a comedy of lerence, of Terence represents as living wretchedly, the W fither h MenTdemus when he had scared his son away, did not drove the son ciinia into ■* Asia to be a soldier, and torment himself aught worse. Suppose a where the father was wretched in consequence. man were now to ask, " What means all this?" I then should answer thus, "In trying to avoid one vice, fools run into its Opposite." 2 MalthinUS Struts along with 2 An effeminate cha- .-,. , 1 racter - garments trailing on the ground, yet there are men who walk with dress raised even to irfdecent height, Supposing it good 3 taste. t » Facetus means rather Rufillus smells of aromatic lozenges ; Gar- c ubus!" s gonius as strong as any goat. There is no happy mean. Some men would ne'er go near a girl unless the border of her neat-hemmed gown hid foot and ankle too ; yet others only look at those who practise lowest prostitution. As once a noble left a house of evil fame, the Censor Cato's splendid words ran thus : — 4 "Go on in virtue's course, for right it is that , xt . . , .. .. ' ° 4 Minima de malis eh- when foul lust has once inflamed the blood, our senda sunt, youth should go to such resorts, and so keep 14 SATIRE II. 1 Cupiennius was a clear of all adultery." Yet l Cupiennius, that great rake and friend of . x Augustus. lover of the white-robed matron, says, " I 2 a parody of Ennius' would not care to be praised thus." 2, Tis lines — "Andire estoperae ,, , ... .. , n pretium procedere recte really worth your while, all ye who- do not Qui rem Romanam Lati- . •, , 1jL . . , , umque augescere voitis." wish adulterers to thrive, to learn how ut- terly they are distressed, and how their pleasure's marred by many pangs, — how seldom, too, it comes, and often is sur- rounded by rough risks. One man has thrown himself from some housetop \ an- other has been flogged to death with scourge ; a third has met with a fierce band of thieves, as he runs hurriedly away; a fourth has had to pay a good round sum to stay the mutilating knife ; a fifth has been debauched by vilest slaves. Indeed, e'en this occurred : — some man deprived th* adulterer of power to err again. The town 3 a clever lawyer, not said, "Legally;" but 3 Galba said, "Not so (it should have been a fine)." And yet how much more free from risk the intercourse with those 4 servius Tuiiius divi- of 4 lower rank, — I mean the freedwomen ; ded the people into five r . - , . . . classes. He wittily ap- for whom a Salustms shows quite as mad a plies this division to the , . i -, ,, r -, -, freedwomen, who repre- love as the adulterer for married dames. sented, to a great extent. -*r,-ri ij-u ii'j j the demi-monde of our Yet if he would be merely kind and generous, da 5 y saiustius was a ne- so far as means and reason would suggest, gafusttthisUlr ° f and as he can discreetly be, he might give quite enough to them, and yet not bring disgrace and ruin on himself. But, no ; he soothes his conscience by this fact alone, delights in this, and lauds himself for it, and 6 origo and Arbuscuia says, "I touch no neighbour's wife." As ::^t h rTof^t7:r once Marsaeus, he who loved 6 Origo so, the SATIRE II. 15 man who squandered land and personalty too upon an actress, said, " I ne'er intrigued with others' wives." If not, you do intrigue with actresses and courtesans, and from them your good name gets greater ill than does your property. Or is it quite enough for you to shun the class or rank, instead of what in each case does the harm? To lose one's fair repute, to waste the means one's father left, are ills where'er they be. What matters it if you go wrong with Carried lady or with 2 ordinary girl ? 1 « obiimare," as •* u- In Fausta's case, one 3 Villius, jocosely called dbSs unproductive for a a " " Dictator's son-in-law," misled, poor wretch, S^id his property- 1 ^ by that one sobriquet, paid penalty enough, ^S™^SStS -aye, more too than enough-mauled as S&3JZSSL& he was with fist, attacked with sword, and *S£ j£^*£* e'en shut out of doors while 4 a more favoured ^siS^ vmius An- swain was in the house. Well, now, suppose ^sta^he dSter^oi his mind made passion's organ see these ills, Sulla ?° °. fte ,V* that „ h f . . . was ironically called and speak to him like this — "What want Sulla's son-in-law. 4 Longarenus was a you, pray? Do I e'er ask you for a woman more favoured lover, and he set some highwaymen sprung from mighty consul, nearly hid in her upon viiiius. long robes, when I am stung by lust ? " What answer would he make ? He'd say, " The girl is born of noble sire." Yet how much better, how opposed to this your trifling, the advice that nature gives, so rich in her own stores, if but you cared to regu- late them rightly, and to ceas^ from thus confusing good with ill. Or think you that it matters not should you go wrong through your own fault, or through the force of cir- 1 6 SATIRE II. cumstance ? So, then, lest you should rue it, give up this pursuit of married dames ; for thence you will derive more toil and woe than you will reap enjoyment from success. Nor are the dainty married lady's limbs, though pearls and emeralds adorn them, i Cerimhus was an ex- though they equal thine, 'Cerinthus, aught T!^ s . celebrated by more delicate or straighter built,— nay, oft the ordinary woman's are to be preferred. 2 The ordinary woman. Besides, 2 she wears her beauty set off by no adventitious aid, shows openly her charms, boasts not of good points she may have, nor makes them prominent, nor tries to hide her blemishes. See what our nobles do when buying horses : they examine them when covered with a cloth, lest (as will happen), if a generally comely form should rest on weakly legs or Literally, the fact of faulty hoofs the shapely flanks, the head so fo™£ nks ' beins weU " neatly turned, the arching neck, should whet the buyer's wish to buy ; and this they rightly do. So don't you gaze on beauties of a woman's form with eyes as keen as Lynceus had, while her deformities you look upon with vision blinder than notorious Hypsaea's was. You say, " Oh, what a splendid leg ! what graceful arms ! And yet she has too lean a back, too long a nose, thin flanks, splay feet. You could see nothing but a married woman's face, for she, unless she be 3 catia was notoriously most 3 shameless of her sex, conceals all else. And should you try to gain forbidden views of charms thus fenced about with dress (that SATIRE II. 17 dress it is that fires your mind), then many hindrances you'll meet, — her eunuch retinue, the chair she rides in, those who dress her hair, the whole dependent crowd, the robe that flows down to the ankles, and the close- embracing cloak, and much besides that would not let you have clear view of all her form. J As for the freedwoman, there is no . 1 Al * eT * is * a no t mIli a- ' tive absolute for quod hindrance here ; for you may see her in her ad alteram attinet." gauze-like dress, as though she were quite nude, and find that she has no misshapen leg, nor ugly foot ; then with a glance at her side's dimensions you could gauge. Or would you wish a trick played off on you before I've shown my wares ? 2 Here the adulterer 2 The adulterer, instead . * of answering, quotes from Will hum these lines, "lllOUgh Oft the an epigram of Callima- , .l-i i ,i i .i -1 chus, then often sung. hunter course the hare through the deep snow, and yet cares not to take it up when shot or killed." And will then say, as appo- site, " My wish is like to his ; for it speeds by what all may have alike, and tries to catch what cheats pursuit." But, pray, do you expect that all your griefs, your passions' ebb and flow, your grave anxieties, can be scared from your breast by paltry lines like these ? And is it not far better worth your while to search out what the limits are that nature gives to our desires, what 'twould reck not though it lacked, and what it could not bear to have withheld from it • far better too to separate the true coin from the dross ? Pray, when your throat is parched with thirst, do you B 1 8 SATIRE II. seek cups of gold ? or, when you're hungry. 1 The rarest delicacies, do you spurn all but the turbot or the pea- cock's flesh? or, when your lustful passions rise, though plenty are close by at once to rid you of love's stings, would you prefer to be 2 The particle " num " distraught by lecherous desire ? 2 Not you : requires a negative an- . . swer in English. not I ; — indeed, I love an easy yielding Pavo, the peacock, and . rhombus, the turbot, were name. And Philodemus says that she who both great delicacies. . Philodemus was an cries, Well soon ; but give me more, i es, if my husband leave the house," is fit but for the worn-out priest of Cybele ; while she who wants no heavy price, nor lingers when she's bid to come, is fit for him. Let her look bright, be straight in limb, be so far elegant as not to care to look more tall or pale than her own form and face allow. When such a woman I embrace, I call her 3 ilia and Egeria were by the 3 noblest ladies' names, or any name I the names of noble ladies. . like; nor do I fear, whilst I am there, her husband should come hurriedly from country seat, the door be broken in, the dog bark loud, the shaken house re-echo with the din, the woman, deadly pale with fright, jump from the bed, her maid and confidante say, 4 Faithless slaves were " Woe is me !" and fear lest her poor 4 legs be -o punished sometimes. • ° broke ; the wife detected, fear lest she should 5 The woman could ie- 5 lose her dowry; and I dread lest I be killed dowry if taken in adui- outright. One has to run away half dressed and with bare feet, to save one's purse, one's body, or one's name. Tis fearful to be caught, and that I'll prove, though stupid F.ibius was an absurd . . stoic philosopher. v abius himself be judge. SATIRE III. A Satire written against those who see their neighbours' vices far clearer than they do their own, and also against the Stoics' theory that all crimes are equal. All singers have this fault, that, in a party of their friends, when asked to sing, they never are inclined ; while if they wish, and are not asked, they never will leave off. ^igellius, 2 0f WOrld-wide fame, 3 wh0 WOuld l The singer of the day. . Ille is ironical. do most things for a price, had this defect; 3 "Sardi venaies" was -, , . A .. a proverbial expression. and him Augustus could not move when- a Sardinian would do e'er he asked him thus, — 4 " Tigellius, I pray mon/y. , r , ■, , . -, , . 4 The actual words you, by my fathers patronage and by mine Augustus used, instead „ ,-, i *r i v j of the oblique narration. own, to sing ; — though it he were inclined himself, he'd keep on giving 5 drinking songs 6 5 "ioBacche." Words x ° ° <_» o occurring in drinking all through the dinner-time, now in the lowest songs. ° , 6 The Roman dinner key, and now in that which shrillest sounds began with eggs and ... ended with dessert. upon the lute s four strings. Consistency in him one could not see; he'd often run like one who fled away from foe, and then, again, he'd often slowly walk as Juno's 7 sacred basket- 1 1. e., with slow and bearers do. He often kept two hundred slaves, and often only ten : at one time boasting of his friend the noble or the prince, and all that's great, and then, again, he'd 2 SATIRE III. i tc Mensa tripes "— say, " Give me a ' table plain in form, a shell made after the fashion . . >f the Delphic tripod, of to hold clean salt, a dress, though coarse it be, which may keep off the cold." Yet had you given to this thrifty man, so satisfied = Dedes centena miiiia with humble means, 2 ten thousand pounds, a HS, or sestertiorum, is the full phrase, and means few days after that he would not have a ten times a hundred . . . . thousand sesterces, or penny in his purse; he d keep awake at night rwopences. ... . . r . . . , till break of morn, and snore out all the day. He outdid all in inconsistency. Now, if some one should say to me, " Well, how about yourself? Have you no faults ? " I i" immo" implies a should reply, 3 "I don't mean that; for I have polite dissent from what ' _ , ,, has been said, and gene- others, and I dare say not so bad as yours. rally introduces an 4 . ..-.., .... emendation. As once a spendthrift slandered in his ■* Maenius was a noto- , - . . . , Hous profligate, men- absence °Novius the miser, some man cried, tioned in Sat. i.. line 104. ,, TT ,-, , -, -, .-, « r 5 Novius may be the Ho there ! do you know nothing of your- Su? vi., hne i^!" 26 m self: or do you think to cheat us all as though we knew you not?" "Not I," re- plied the profligate, " I find excuse for what I do myself" A foolish and excessive self-love this, and worthy of a stern rebuke ! But since, like blear-eyed men with eyes smeared over with the salve, you see your faults so dimly, why this keen perception of your friend's defects, as keen as eagle's sight, or Epidaurus' snake's ? Yet, on the other side, it happens that they too in turn search out your faults. * Horace probably 6 Suppose a man be rather passionate, and means himself. . . not quite suited to the nice taste men of modern times evince. He might be ridi- culed because his hair is badly cut, his coat hangs slovenly, while the loose shoe can SATIRE III. 2 1 scarcely keep upon his heel ; yet still he's a good citizen — indeed, he cannot be sur- passed in this — still he's your friend, still wondrous power of mind lurks 'neath this rough outside, — in fine, just ! test yourself, * A metaphor fr ° m G # ' . shaking a thief, and see if nature, or bad practices, perhaps, have e'er implanted any vice in you ; for, as you know, the weeds do grow apace in fields not duly worked, and must be burned to stay the harm. But let us hasten to dis- cuss this first, — that ugly blemishes the girl he loves may have are all unnoticed by the lover, or that their mere presence gives him joy, as 2 Hagna's wen delights her 3 swain. 2 Hagna is a name de- ..... r . . . . . rived like our Agnes. And oh that in our friendships too we made 3 Nothing further is , . . , . known of Balbinus. the same mistake, and that a generous justice stamped the foible with a term approved by all ! Indeed, as fathers do not feel disgust at any bodily defects their children have, so we should feel none at our friends'. To put a case, some father says his squinting son has but a pretty cast ; again, all those who have a child absurdly small, like Sisyphus, that offspring of untimely birth, call him " dear little chick ■ " another, with those inward- turning toes, they term a "Varus," or in lisping tones call 4 "Scaurus" one who scarce 4 Varus and Scaures were names of noble can stand on ankles out of shape. So, then, families, suppose a man lives rather niggardly, let him be called but careful of his means ; suppose another shows bad taste, and talks in boastful strain too much, he (doubtless) only wants to show a genial wit to friends, 2 2 SATIRE III. i An objector says this. i Ye s, but his bearing is too insolent, and he is much too plain in speech. Then let him be supposed to be an open and a truth- ful character. Yes, but he is too passionate. Well, then, let him be classed with men of spirit ; and, methinks, 'tis this that makes us friends, and keeps us friends when made. But we change what is really virtue into vice, and fain would sully the unblemished casket 2 The indicative is often of morality. 2 Suppose a man of honesty used by Horace to ex- J r . J press a supposed case, dwells in our set, he's far too spiritless for us, we call him " dull," or " dense ; " perhaps s Literally , presents his another shuns all snares, and rives 3 a chance side exposed to no evil ' ° plotter understood). f or no malignant hand to deal a blow, be- cause he lives with men among whom revels envy's tooth, and the false charge is rife ; yet him we call a double-dealing, cunning rogue, instead of a shrewd, careful man. Again, suppose some one speaks what he thinks too openly, or acts (as oft, dear Patron, 4 Libenter. Freely— I have 4 freely shown myself to you) so as to because he knew that . J , J Maecenas would not mis- interrupt annoyingly with the first words that take frankness, even if . gauche, for deliberate come into his mouth one who may possibly annoyance. be reading, or wrapt m deep thought, we say, "Tis clear the man lacks common sense." Ah me, how rashly do we ratify an unjust law that tells against ourselves ! For no one in the world lacks faults, and he's the best who's influenced by the most trifling ones. A dear friend, as is fair, would weigh my good points 'gainst my bad, and turn the scale to the more numerous good qualities, suppose there be more good ; if he should SATIRE III. 23 care to be beloved himself, and on these terms, he shall be placed in the same scale. *Let him who fain would not offend by his 1The fu ^ ure is el f; J gantly used as a mild gross faults, look over his friend's 2 slighter imperative. ... 2 Literally, by large weaknesses ; for right it is that one who boils and small warts, claims excuse for his mistakes should give the same in turn. In fine, since nor the fault of rage, nor those defects besides that cling to us poor foolish men can be completely rooted out, why does not philosophic reason use the weights and measures suitable, and, as the several cases need, so check the wrong with punishment? If any one should crucify a slave for feasting on the partly eaten fish, or on the soup now nearly cold, when bade 3 to 3 Literally, to take clear away, he would by men of sense be awaya called more mad than 4 Labeo. And yet 4Labeo punished a 1 t j -1 1 slave very severely for a how much more mad, how much more wrong, trifling fault. to act like this ! — Suppose your friend has made some slight mistake, which should you not forgive, you would be thought morose and stern, yet you both hate and shun him as a debtor hates and shuns 5 exacting 5. Ruso was a usurer, and writer of wretched usurers ; for he, poor wretch, when the sad biographies. 6 settling day has come, unless he can fish e The first day of the out from some or other source the interest or m principal, just like a captive has to hear, 7 with neck stretched out as if to bear the 7 /• *•» for the victor to . slay him- blow, 8 the wearisome description of the man's . 8 /. *., The man's auto- own life. Suppose a friend in wine has slightly outraged decency, or has thrown down a 9 Horace laughs at the ,, ill- -liar-. 1 > i i excessive reverence then plate once held in old y Evanders hands, — displayed for antiquity. 24 SATIRE III. should he for this be less endeared to me ? or if, in hunger, he has seized a fowl served up in front of me in my part of the dish ? If so, what should I do, suppose he has turned out a thief, or has betrayed some 1 Fide is the old dative 1 trust, or failed to keep his word ? The for fidei. . x Stoics, who think crimes are all well-nigh alike, are quite perplexed in testing this their theory ; for common sense, morality, and even interest, that is so nearly the prime source of justice and of equity, is quite opposed to it. 2 "Animaiia." This 2 When savage men crawled forth upon the word is used to show ° x that man did not much scarce-formed earth, like brutes, unsightly, differ from the brute. ' ' b J9 not possessed of speech, they fought for 3 Acoms. 3 mast and lairs with nails and fists, and then with clubs, and so, as time went on, they used the weapons that experience had later forged, until they found out words and terms with which t'express cries showing each sen- sation \ then they soon began to give up war, build towns, and lay down laws to check the thief, the highway robber, and adulterer. For woman was the foulest cause of war long previous to Helen's time, but that race perished with their deeds unsung. For them, as brute-like, they indulged in lawless love, the stronger ever slew, as in the herd the bull. You must admit, if you but care to read the world's first history and calendar, 4 The stoics held that 4 that right was introduced through dread of justice was a natural vir- . _ _ tue, not a necessary in- wrong. Nor can (as Stoics say) unaided sitution. _ . Nature separate the unjust from the just, as SATIRE III. 25 she removes the bad from good, what we should shun from what we ought to seek ; nor will their theory prove this — * that one \" Tantandum ut P ec- J r cat is for " Eum tan- who has but trampled down young cabbages tumdempeccare." that grow on neighbours' garden-ground, does wrong as great and quite the same as one who has sacked temples of the gods by night. Let there be some fixed rule t'inflict due punishment on crimes, so that one need not chase with scourge armed with dread iron points one who needs but the 2 milder lash. 2 a leathern strap with which slaves were pun- For since you say that each case is alike, ished for smaller offences. and threaten (would but men make you their 3 king) to check with just the same restraint "ironical; the stoics 0/ t J said that the philosopher theft, highway robbery, great crimes and was everything great and small, I have no fear lest you should chasten with the lighter rod one worthy of severer punishment. Since, as you say, philosophers alone are rich, good cobblers handsome, — ay, and kings, — why want to gain what you already have ? Here 4 he replies, — " You do 4 some stoic. not know what says °Chrysippus, founder of 5 Although Zeno was ,__... . .. the real founder of the our sect. Tis this, — ' Philosophers ne er make stoic system, yet Chry- . sippus was often called themselves or Greek or Latin shoes, yet still so. philosophers are cobblers.' " Tell me how. Horace - "Why, just as, though 6 Hermogenes sing The stoic. J ' J ' . to ? ° 6 Not the same Tigel- not a note, he is a first-rate singer and lius as mentioned in musician \ or as shrewd Alfenius, although Aifenms Varus was a ,,, -I'-i-ii iii • i- cobbler at Cremona, who he d parted With all tOOls belonging tO hlS came to Rome, and ob- j . . . . tained eminence as a trade, and shut up shop, was the best artisan barrister and consul. in ev'ry kind of work, and so a king." And yet, O mightiest of mighty kings, Horace. 26 SATIRE III. the wanton street-boys pull you by the beard, and if you do not check them with your stick, you're jostled by the crowd that hems you in, and, wretched man, you have to break a bloodvessel with shouting and with scolding them. In short, while you, though king you i ibis and sectabitur be, x go to the - farthing baths to bathe, and are really futures. 2 Quadrans was about not a soul attend you there except the absurd a farthing, or less in . value. Cnspmus. my dear friends will pardon any s stoic is sapiens; ergo, wrong that I, no 3 Stoic, may have done, while I, in turn, shall gladly bear their failings, and, although a nobody, shall live more blest than vou a king. SATIRE IV. Horace wrote this Satire to defend himself from the detraction of those who tried to take away his reputation as a poet, on the ground that he ignored the artificial style of writing then so much in vogue, and used too much freedom in satirizing others. He quotes the best writers of comedy in former times as having used the same licence without reproof. The poets Eupolis, Cratinus, Aristophanes, and l other comic writers of old times, would i Such as Pherecrate? with great freedom satirize all those whose and E P icharmus - character deserved to be so accurately drawn, since they were villains, thieves, adulterers, cut-throats, or otherwise notorious. Now, on the writers I have named, Lucilius, so full of wit, with keen perception, though rough in the structure of his lines, entirely depends ; has imitated them, with but the metre changed or rhythm. Yet, surely, he was wrong in this, that he would often, as though quite a feat, read to his slave 2 to copy down two hundred lines 2 Puero,amanu. Poet? had a slave as amanu- an hour with sportive easiness. As he rolled ensis. incoherently along, there were some lines one fain would take away ; besides, he was verbose, and 3 shirked the toil composing 3 Literally, was slow to gives, — that is, composing as one should, for I care nought for quantity. 28 SATIRE IV. i Crispinus was a gar- Behold, the prating * Stoic dares me now rulous Stoic philosopher. ....... . . r The words— "For the to try my skill with his, and that, too, for least sum I like to stake," - ,. T ,.. , TT impiy that Crispinus felt the smallest sum I like to stake. He says, so sure of victory, that he ,, m i «r -n , -i i , i, i would stake much more Take, if you will, your tablets, — let a place, necessary. a versary l and time, and umpires be assigned us, — let us see which of the two can write the more." Thus I reply : — The gods have blessed me 2 The mind gives us much in making me possess a 2 mind of poor the ideas to express in . words. and trifling powers, that but seldom clothes its thoughts in words ; while you, as you prefer, use speech that sounds like wind shut up in goatskin bellows, ever struggling to get s a garrulous poet who f ortri . £'en 3 Faxinius thinks he is blest, be- was jealous of Horace. cause a bookcase, with his precious works 4 By his admirers. an d portrait of himself, is 4 offered him un- asked • while no one reads the lines I write, who shrink from indiscriminate recital, for the reason that, as most men merit blame, so there are some who hate this style of mine. Just pick me any one you will from out the general class of men. He is afflicted (you will find) with avarice or hapless thirst for power. Another is distressed with mad desire for married women's love ; a third with love for boys ; a fourth the sheen of plate at- 5 Aibius was not re- tracts : 5 a fifth beholds with rapt amaze markable for anything ' t else. bronze statues ; and a sixth goes trading 6 Literally, from the from the G east e'en to the west, — nay, more, rising sun to that with which the western dime speeds headlong through disastrous hin- grows warm. . . . drances, like dust by whirlwind gathered up, in terror lest he lose some portion of his ^Metuens is used, like property, 7 or fail to make it more. And all vereor, with ne and ut. . ,, .. ,.. . , . , such men fear lines like mine, and hate the SATIRE IV. 29 Satirist. 2 "He's dangerous," say they, "flee iThey assumed that every one who wrote at far from him. Can he but raise a laugh at ail wrote satires. 2 Oxen given to toss- What he SayS, tO Stilt himself, he Will not ing had hay bound round spare his dearest friend ; and will be glad that each child, and old woman too, as they come back from bakehouse or from public fount, should know whate'er he may have 3 carelesslv scrawled on his manuscript." , 3 Semei. Shows that J he did not revise. Come, now, just hear a few words on the other side. And, first, I will withdraw my name from out the ranks of those to whom I'd give the term of " bard; " — and really one ought not to say, " It is enough to give a line six feet," or think all those true poets who, like me, write what is more like prose. Give him the proud distinction of this name, who has real genius, whose thoughts are more inspired, whose mouth will, no doubt, utter noble sentiments. And 'tis for reasons such as these that some have questioned whether comedy be poetry or not ; because in comedy the language and the subject-matter both lack fire and force, — indeed, it is mere prose, but for the metre's law. 4 But PlautUS Says, 4 Horace here supposes the father, hot with passion, storms because this, 6 an^Tefutes hin? his spendthrift son, through mad love for a w^hafe hiltance^ever^ harlot mistress, will not wed a richly dowered &*^fiSKS wife; storms, too, because he's drunk, and S^"ifi& a £ (what's a dreadful stain upon his character) make comedy poetry * goes revelling with torches lit before nightfall. 5 And would 6 Pomponius, were but his 5 Answer to the sup- father now alive, hear words aught gentler in po 6 s a ISute' and ex- their tone than those (you say the father used)? trava s ant y° uth - 30 SATIRE IV. • imaginary opponent. 1 He certainly would not. 2 So, then, 'tis not enough to end a line in words devoid of style, if, when one took away the metre, any one you please would storm with rage, just like the father in the comedy. Were you to take away from these lines I now write, and 5 Literally, the fixed those Lucilius once wrote, the 3 pauses, limits, pauses and the rhythm. and ^ rhythm . then make the WQrd thafg first in order last, and place the last before the first, you would not find the bard's true ele- ments when sundered thus, as you would find them if you so deranged 4 such poetry as this, 4 Lines of Ennius. J ° . — "When fell dissension brake the iron doors and gates of war." Enough of this. At some time hence I will discuss the question whether satire be true poetry or not; but now I'll only talk of this, — I mean the justice or in- justice of the hatred felt to this my style of writing. Sulcius and Caprius, those fierce informers, stalk about, both very hoarse with pleading, bearing accusations in their hands, both a great source of dread to highwaymen ; but all who live as they should live need care nought for them both. Though you be like to Ccelius and Birrius, the highwaymen, I am not like to Caprius or Sulcius, why should you dread me then ? And may no printer's shop nor column for advertisement have book of mine, for common people's 5 Not the same as Ti- dirty hands or 5 music masters' to defile. Nor do I read my works to any but my friends, and only that Avhen forced, — not in whatever place you will, or to whatever audience you SATIRE IV. 31 please. Yet many men read out their works e'en in the open market-place, and many at the bath. No doubt, the place, arched in, suits well the reader's voice. And this is joy to those vain men who never care to learn if they do this with utter want of taste, or at untoward times. l But some one says, » Some imaginary op- . . ponent. " You love to injure men s repute; malicious, as you are, you do this purposely." 2 Whence 2 Horace. got you this reproach to cast on me? In fine, are any of those men with whom I've lived the author of this taunt ? He who disparages an absent friend, who fails to speak in his defence when others blame, who tries to make men loudly laugh, who aims at being thought a wit, who can frame tales of what he never saw, who cannot keep a secret trust, is a malignant character ; beware of him, ye honest citizens. One oft may see four guests at dinner seated on the Roman 3 couch, among whom one will make jests 3The triclinium was " ■* composed of three both refined and coarse, on all except the couches, called lectus imus, medius, summus, host, and him as well, when drunk, — when on each of which never ... . . . . more than four sat in Bacchus, who brings out the truth, unlocks a good society. man's real thoughts. Yet you, who hate malignant rascals so, think this man cour- teous and witty, and but free in speech. And do you think it virulence and spite in me, if I have laughed because Rufillus smells absurdly of the aromatic lozenge, and Gargo- 4 stole a crown beiong- -,.-. ~ A , , ingtoJupiterCapitolinus, mus like any goat ? And yet suppose, when when he was governor of 1 ,«ii i the Capitol, but was ac- you are by, some mention has been made quitted out of regard for about 4 Petillius Capitolinus' theft, no doubt £S°* wh ° se fnend 32 SATIRE IV. you would defend him, as you're wont, in words like these, — " Capitolinus, certainly, has often dined with me, and been my friend e'er since I was a boy, and has done much for me at my request, and I am glad that he lives safe at Rome ; yet, still, I wonder how he did escape that trial talked about so much." Horace replies. This is the virus of malignant hate, — sheer malice this. And that my works^and heart be free from such defect, I promise, first, as I do promise, too, whate'er I can with truth, about myself, if in my satires I have made The future is eie- remarks too free, or possibly made too severe gantly used as an impe- , . rathe. a jest, grant me the licence, and excuse it ; for my dear good father trained me to do this through showing me each several vice, by quoting cases of indulgence in the vice, that I might shun the same. When he encou- raged me to live with thrifty care, and be content with what he had amassed for me, he'd say, lu Of course, you see what a bad iNonne. Expects as- y fe youri or 2 AlbiuS lives : llOW pOOr BamiS sent to the question. ** J » - ; r 2 Nothing further was j s ? G 00 d reason there to stay a man's known of Albius, or J Barms. desire to spend his father's property." And when he checked my wish for some disgrace- ful harlot's love, he'd say, " Don't you be like Scetanus." Then, again, to save me from adultery, when I could well indulge a love less criminal, he'd say, " Tre- bonius, caught in the act, enjoys no good repute. Philosophers will give you reasons showing what is better to be shunned, SATIRE IV. 33 what better to be sought ; but 'tis enough for me, if I can but observe the good old rules the ancients gave ; and while you need a guardian, keep your life and reputation free from harm, and then, directly that your time of life has given you more strength of limb, and firmer mind, you'll float (in life's wide sea) without a swim- ming-belt." So, by his words he trained Literally you will me when a boy; and if he bade me choose ^J*£*£ s c e ° e £; some course of action, he would bring before fdealTn 7 10 express the my notice one of the grand jurymen, and^^J^^^ say, " You have a precedent for acting the Aurefcm law from J ' F ° among the senators, thus." Or was there aught he told me knights, and tribunes, to ° try criminal cases. not to do, he'd ask me this, — " What ? Would you doubt if this be shameful or against your interest to do, when more than one man is notorious for it?" A funeral next door dispirits the intemperate and sick, and makes them less indulgent through a fear of death. And so another's ill repute will oft deter young minds from vice. For through the training I spoke of, I'm free from vices that bring ruin on a man, and only influenced by small defects that one may well excuse, and e'en from them, perhaps, long life, th' advice of candid friends, my own reflection, will take much away ; and I do not neglect my duty when I go into my study or walk in the colonnade, for then I muse like this, — " Yes, that is better. I shall lead a purer life if I do so. Again, if I do that, 2 my friends will 2 Literally, i shall meet ° 7 J my friends dear to them, gladly meet me. Ah! a certain man was c 34 SATIRE IV. very wrong in what he did ; I wonder if I e'er shall, unacknowledged to myself, do aught like that." Such are th' unuttered thoughts I have, which in some leisure hour I spor- tively jot down on manuscript. And that is one of those defects one may excuse, — which, if you will not overlook, the numerous i Such as Virgil, Va- clubs of bards will come to aid 1 me (for we far outnumber you), and as the Jews compel their proselytes, so we will make you join this wide-spread set of ours. SATIRE V. In this Satire Horace imitates Lucilius, who made a journey from Rome to Capua, and then to Sicily. The time taken in travelling was fifteen days, and the distance travelled about 390 miles. Maecenas, Virgil, Plotius, and Varius accompanied the poet, but not on the first part of the way. Although a state mission, it rather resembled an excursion. It refers to the treaty of Tarentum, made between Octavianus and Antony. Modern names are used for two reasons : — First, because they will be more familiar to the non-classical reader, and probably to the classical not much less than the ancient ones ; second, because they are more manage- able and euphonious. THE JOURNEY FROM ROME TO BRINDISI. First day's jour- La RlCCIA first gave me Shel- The Roman mile was ney, from Rome . . . _. . , T ,, 142 yards less than ours. to Aricia, now ter in its humble inn, when Id LaRiccia, a town , r , . . -r, in Latium. 16 left mighty Rome. £S ' l A rhetorician, far the best. 1 Longe doctissimus Second dav ^ i i * s tne language of com- From La Riccia the Greeks then had, Went pliment, as Heliodorus to Forum Appii, . was almost unknown. now Borgo Lun- LOO. f: rmi!e? P0 36 Then B0T S° Lun S° t0 ° k US from Rome. ^ _ a place t0Q full of sailors ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ and of cheating innkeepers. Bo^oLunT R ° me to We idly made two journeys 2 of the road 3 The A PP ian road, by J J J , which they came, led from Rome to Borgo Lungo, though it is from Rome to Capua, . and was continued from but one for active travellers ; 3 nor is this thence by Trajan to Brindisi. Journey by night TOad of ApDlUS SO bad for thOSe 4 /. e., one feels the fa- and un to 10 , , . . a tx x tigue less than those who o"clock a.m. next who take their time. 4 Here I travel fast. 3 6 SATIRE V. refuse all nourishment to save day, down a canal 17 miles long, my drinking water of the vilest t0 the temple of , . the goddess Fe- • ! E ve n n £ w the water 1 kind, and Wait in nO COn- ™nia. Traces of is so bad at Borgo Lungo, the canal still re- that travellers will not tented mood till all who, like main, and of a stay longer than they can m tower near Terra- help, myself, were going by boat, had cina, called now . . Torre otto Fac- dined. da. 2 a parody of a line of 2 But soon, as says the bard, 'gan night Ennius. 1 J ° ° spread o er the earth its pall of shade, and then the slaves and bargemen heaped abuse 3 Some slave guarding like this on one another's heads. 3 A slave his master's luggage re- quests the boatman to says, Here, land where I am. But soon land where he is. The . . boatman complies ; but the boatman cries, " Ho there, you re pack- such a crowd rushes on . .. . 111111 the boat that he cries out, ing crowds on board \ hold hard, we want no Trecentos, &c. ,, . , , ,. , ., more. And so an hour slips away, while fares are taken and the mule yoked to the towing-rope. The tiresome gnats and frogs that love the marsh drive sleep away ; while now, well drunk with bad, flat wine, the bargeman and a passenger sing of " the girl they left behind them." At last the passen- ger is wearied, and begins to sleep \ and then the bargeman idly lets the mule go out to graze, and ties the rope fast to a stone, and snores reclining on his back. And now day just began to break, when we saw that the barge made no headway, until an angry passenger leaped out upon the shore and beat the head and loins of mule and barge- man too, with willow club. We scarcely oned from sb^T.nT^o" 4 disembarked at last by ten o'clock. 5 We "i The" language is ra- wash our hands and faces in thy fount, Fe- ;!:;;;; bombastic on pur - ronia ; then, after lunch, we slowly travel SATIRE V. 37 Third t day. three more miles, and come to a.m. Distance Terracina's walls, reared high on Terracina 3 n imies° cliffs that gleam afar. Maecenas 20 miles from , i^ BorgoLungo. 56 Was tO meet US here; 'COCCeiUS, iCocceius Nerva, the from Rome. , , -1 . , , r -u ax. a. great-grandfather of tOO, that best Of men, DOth Sent Nerva, afterwards Em- „ -j , • . . r r peror, helped to recon- as deputies to treat of matters of grave mo- die Antony and Au- ment, both well qualified to reconcile friends gustus ° once estranged. Here, as my eyes were sore, I dressed them with black salve. Mean- time, arrives my patron, and with him Coc- ceius and Fonteius Capito, a perfect gentle- man, as dear a friend as Antony then had. Fourth day. We gladly passed through Fondi ^ Latb Fondi, where AufidiuS, 2 "the 2 Of course, "Luscus" town, 13 miles uv -, „ «.,, is really a cognomen, but from Terracina purblind, Was the mayor, and there maybe a jest meant 60 from Rome' 11 • j- i j ^1 ^ in its application here, on to Formic' we ^ we ndlCUled the honours Even Maecenas was con- now Mola di i. ^t. j ct j j> tent with the au g usti_ Gaeta. 12 miles WOn "V tnat ma( ^ qU On dam " clave, a less richly from Rome 1 ' ^ C ^ er ^ > mS wn l te r °t> e edged madTthe bustTi'ng'pom- • , , , . , j posity of Aufidius more with purple, senator s rich dress, ridiculous. and pan of burning coals. Then, wearied out, tius varro BtoenL Sf»- we stayed all night in the Mamurrae's town, ce A n s ^fcti^aiiSSn where Varro gave us beds, and Capito found S2SS! 81 He %% fr.r.A Roman knight, engineer 1UUU * to Julius Caesar in Gaul, fhrou h Sinn' ^^ m ° ming ^^ """^ *c5SA1£l£ essa^now Bag- more agreeably, for PlotiuS and ury, and called "decoctor noli, a town in .. rormianus. Latium, 18 miles Vanus and Virgil met us at Gaeta, 99 from Bagnoli, and than them the Rome, on to the , , , j j little villa near earth has ne er produced more pons, now"Pome frank and honest men, nor men fromBagnoifio^ to whom another was more milesfromRome. dear than me> q^ ^^ k[nd greetings then there were ! what heartfelt joy ! I never could while of sound mind compare 3 8 SATIRE V. aught to a pleasant friend. The little country 1 "Parochus" was an house that stands near the Ceppani Bridge officer whose duty was to , , i , r j furnish to government gave us a bed, A the state purveyors tound us bid^Si^ibkiSSariS fire and salt. From this place, in good time, as fire and salt. ^ ^^ j^ ^^ ^^ pack§ ^ ^ ^ at Capua. Maecenas goes to foffi P ** t Ja£ play at tennis, I and Virgil go ^ a o ™> e J2 * o £°™ to sleep ; for tennis does not suit " ear r ' the Inns of Cau- sore eyes and weak digestion. i iur P or Caudine J ° < rorks; near what Then Cocceius' well-appointed is no ^ called rr Monte Sarchio, home, that stands just past the 21 miles from Capua, and 145 Caudine Taverns, shelters us. from Rome. Account of the ..&.Vf*™7 « Homers And nOW.my Muse, fain WOUld quarrel between Iliad, bk. 11., line 484. ..... . . Sarmentus and I that you give a brief description Messius, down to of the wordy war between Sar- 2 Theterm''dcirrhus" mentus the Buffoon and Messius the 2 Cock, is the same as the Ger- in ■>• man Gackhahn. and tell us too the lineage of both these men, who then began the fray. Well, then, 3 ironical. The Os- the Oscans formed the 3 noble line of Messius. cans, a Campanian tribe, were notorious for their Sarmentus is e'en now a slave. Sprung from vices. . such ancestry, they met in strife. Sarmentus first says, " Why, I vow you're like an un- tamed horse." We laugh, and e'en "the Cock " himself says, " Well, I take the chal- lenge," and then gives his head a toss. Again Sarmentus cries, " Had that wart not 4 Literally, what would ]3 een cu t from out your brow 4 how terrible you do ! J you'd be ! since though so sadly maimed, you threaten thus." For a foul scar had marred the hairy temple on the left side of his face. 5 Elephantiasis; a dis- Then he made many jests upon his strange "r;Vfr e om ampanianssuf " 5 disease, and on his face; he begged that JAvcryungainlymove- he would ^ by dancmg 6 Polyphemus' SATIRE V. 39 wooing, for he would not need a ? mask or 1 /. *., the scar was stately tragic buskin with that scar. The better than any mask * Cock made many smart replies to this. He said, 2 " Pray have you, as you vowed you 2 Giving the man's ac- . , , 11111 tua l words, instead of the WOUld, nOW Consecrated tO the household indirect narration. gods your chains ? 3 although you are a clerk, 3 a parody of the cus- . , , • 1 , c 1 • •. torn of youthful nobles at your mistress right of ownership is quite as Rome, who offered their _ j • r 1 i'i (bullae) ornaments to the good ; m fine, why did you ever run away, household gods at the when but a 4 single pound of meal was quite ^of sixteen and a half enough for you, so lean a manikin **J£T&&£Z'' With such amusement, we quite pleasantly ofmealaday ' prolonged that meal. Straight from the Seventh day. inns of Caudium, we bend our l rom Cocceius villa to Beneven- steps to Benevento, where the turn, now Bene- vento, 12 miles host, as with officious zeal he from the Inns of Caudium, and turns some thrushes most ab- r 57 fiom Rome. 111 ^1 surdly lean upon the spit, was nearly burnt himself ! for, as the poet says, *« Out fell the fire,and soon the flames strayed rf'^H^SS o'er the crumbling kitchen floor, and onward KSLShS^! 4 " sped to play around the roof." And then you might have seen the eager 6 diners, and r ^he jjg^J^jffijP the slaves who feared the scourge, snatch at dinner, and the slaves ' eager to save themselves their dinner in the fire, while all tried hard from a beating. to quench the flames. Eighth day. And, next, Apulia began tO Velle. Means here From Benevento ..... . .. rather the attempt to ex- to Trivicum, now shOW ltS hills We knew SO Well, ecute the wish. Trivico. Distance . ... , ... 1 •11 • ■, • r™ »i • notmentioned.lt hills the AltiriO chills With IHD- The , Al . tl ™ was an was a town on the . , , , . , , , easterly wind. borders of Cam- Ping COld, which We had never Torret refers to the pania. j u J t T" • ■ » - nipping effect of the cold passed had not TriVICO S inn upon the herbage. From Benevento' close by afforded shelter for the Trivico".^ near night, though plagued with smoke that brings the tears into 40 SATIRE V. one's eyes, because the fire is fed with damp boughs that still have their leaves left on. Here I, fool that I was, sit up till midnight waiting for a girl who fails to come ; but sleep surprises me thus bent on love, and dreams portray th' embraces I had meant to give and take. From this place we ride quickly on for four-and-twenty miles in Tenth day. jaunting-cars, intending to re- n^ T ri4o^ main at a small town that I can noTc\stIi U Fran' scarcely name in verse, but ^ UI £ wn Z which one easily may indicate ^nto/^ B from by telling features of the place. Rome - Here water, cheapest of all things there are, is actually sold ; the bread, however, is extremely good, so that a travel- Eleventh da ler who knows what he's about E rom £ astel .branco to Canu- will carry on his back a basket sium > now Can °- ' m sa. 84 from Be- of the same still further on the nevento, 261 from 1 «' Qui locus - refer to road> rp or at Canosa bread is full canosa. of grit, and it's a place that is not better off for water by a single jug than Castel Francois, and it was founded by brave Diomede. Canosa. Then Varius in sorrow quits the 2 place and quits his weeping friends. And Twdfth day next we came to Ruvo, wearied From Canosa to Rubi, now Ruvo. out, like men who've traversed 24 miles from Ca- nosa, 285 from a long way made softer than R°me. it OUght tO be by rain. Thirteenth day. From Ruvo to The next day gave us finer Barium, now Ba- ri. 22 miles from weather, but the roads were Ruvo, 307 from ^ ., Rome. worse quite up to Bans town, so full of fish and fishermen. SATIRE V. 41 From ee Bari d To And then Fa sano, built be- Gnatia, now Fa- ne ath the ban of fountain sano. 37 miles from Ruvo, 345 1 nymphs, gave food for laughter 1 I.e., it had no pure from Rome. J r ' ° m # ° water. and for jest, by its mad wish to make us think that 2 frankincense without ? pii ny , in his Natural the aid of flame will melt upon the threshold tain stJne^was shown e at r r Gnatia, which had the OI SOme lane. m power of setting fire to Let any superstitious Jew w< Fifteenth day. . . . _ . . r From Fasano to think SO, but I COUld not, for I Brindisi. 44 miles . r . from Fasano, 893 know now from Epicurus that from Rome. - , , . c the gods pass their time free from care, and that it is no threatening rage of theirs that sends down from the heaven's lofty dome whatever natural phenomenon we see. Brindisi was the end of my long story and our journey too. SATIRE VI. Horace wrote this Satire to defend his reputation from the jealousy of those who asserted that he had stolen into favour by a lucky chance, and for the purpose of gaining wealth and power. Dear Patron, you do not, as most men do, sneer at, with cold disdain, all of ignoble birth like me, from freed man father sprung, because of all the Lydians that ever dwelt in Tuscan realms, not one is nobler born than you ; nor yet because upon the mother's and the father's side you've ancestors who once led mighty armies to the field. Now when you say it makes no difference from what i Slaves were not ad- parentage one be sprung, provided that 1 one Stizens; Horace was the be no slave, you then hold this correct son of a freedman, and . . , , r ,, , • , -, «^ J so escaped any bar of opinion that, before th' ignoble sway and SU 2 h The d inother of Ser- reign of 2 Tullius, full often many men, sprung vms TulUus was a cap- from ^ ^^ j^ ^^ j^ honestly and been raised to the highest offices of state. (Probe nosti) you well know is understood out And then, quite contrary to of the words, "persuades . , T . The argument hoc tibi vere." Publius thlS, yOU Well knOW that J^SeVl- is that Laevinus Valerius Lsevinus was so c . ^ T * , the noble must abandoned and dissolute nUS, SOn 01 that ValeriUS Dy indeed be worth- that he never got higher , i rp _ _ rn „ less if the people than a quaestor in rank, whom prOUQ 1 arqum Once WaS w ho generally SATIRE VI. 43 feel an ignorant driven from his realms and excess of rever- ence for high fled, was never thought a whit birth and title, . found such fault more of for his high birth ; for with him. e'en our public, whom you know so well, who foolishly so oft give high distinc- tions to unworthy men, who so absurdly are the slaves of mere repute, who stare with blank amaze at monuments inscribed, or statues and wax pictures hung in halls ; e'en they, I say, placed the bar sinister against his name. 1 Well, what should I and those who think 1 Nos implies, land all - . _ . . who think like me. like me do, men whose thoughts are so opposed to vulgar views ? For e'en suppose the public should prefer to give distinction to Laevinus (of that proud descent) 2 than to 2 Decius Mus was of ,1 j , ,i o plebeian origin, and is the parvenu; and e en suppose the 6 rating quo ted to represent a officer were to degrade me from the House C s S The duty of a censor were I not found to be of free-born parentage, KorSf^d ra^tt he would do what I well deserved ; since cltlzens * 1 should then have higher aims than nature meant I should. 4 And yet, to tell the truth, as sings the * An epic line from an epic bard, — " In glittering car alike enslaved, un nown poet ' the low-born and the noble glory draws." And Tillius, what good to you to wear again Tiiiius is quoted as the senator's rich dress you had to lay aside versrun^lblurVdesh-e and be elected a commanding officer ? g r Idfd° r from^e W ^nat e e" You're envied more than when you held no Sd^^ffiSK office under government; indeed, the moment death " that each foolish man has bound around his leg the shoe-tie made of soft black leather, and let flow down from his chest the senator's 44 SATIRE VI. broad stripe, he hears at once such questions as — Who is the man ? and what's his origin ? Just as all those who are afflicted by the mental error Barrus is (that exquisite), I mean the wish to be thought handsome, and to make the girls, where'er he goes, quite anxious to learn each particular, what sort ,c Sura" strictly means of face, for instance, legs, and teeth, and the calf, but by synec- , ' ° ? . doche may be put for the hair he has. So one who vows, if he but Like members' pro- be returned, that he will guard his country- mkes before elections. men5 his ^ empire, country, and the temples of the gods, makes all men try to learn, and ask what is his origin, and ask if (as may be) he be disgraced by mother of low birth. i Some one of the peo- : "And do you dare, you son of some base this to S an P officer "f g2 slave, to hurl down the Tarpeian rock, or X? perhaps a hand to public executioner your countrymen?" 2 The tribune replies. 2 Well, but my colleague Novius is one — Horace may mean 7 . himself secretly. Novius degree below myself in rank : for he is what ■was a freedman, Horace " ' the son of a freedman, my father Was. therefore of better blood. » One of the people 3 And pray, on this account,, do you think Pauiius and Messaiia you are one of our great noblemen ? Besides were great nobles. The . . funerals at Rome were thlS, xSOVTUS Will sllOUt SO loud that he Will always attended by trum- .. , ... .. , - , is, cornet players, drown the clarions and trumpets sound, e en if two hundred wains and three large funerals met in the open market-place. No doubt * Horace speaks here, this power of voice attracts us. 4 Now I talk once more about myself, sprung from a freed- man father (as men ever say), whom all carp at as sprung from freedman father ; now because I dine so oft with thee, dear Patron, but in days gone by, because, as a command- SATIRE VI. 45 ing officer, I once led a brigade into the field. This is unlike the former case, for with no justice could whoe'er you please, as they might possibly the honour of command, grudge me your friendship too, when you're so careful in selecting those who merit it, and who are far removed from that bad habit of place-hunting. I can't say I'm lucky in this point, that I gained you as friend by accident, for 'twas no chance that threw me in your way, for Virgil, best of men, some time ago, then Varius told you my character. When first I saw you, after speaking a few words in broken tones, — (for diffidence that checks the speech prevented me from saying more), — I did not tell you I was sprung from noble sire, nor that I rode around some country-seat on horse of purest breed, but Saturium was near , , ... , . . r Tarentum, and was famed told you who I really was; you made brief f or its breed of horses. answer, as you're wont, and more than eight months after that, you asked me once again to see you, and then bid me rank among your friends. I greatly valued this, my pleasing you, who sift true virtue from what's base, through no high birth, but through my purity of life and heart. But if my character be sullied by more venial defects and those but few, and be in other points upright, — as though, to put a case, one should find fault with trifling blemishes occurring here and there upon a handsome person, — if no man shall fairly charge me with the fault of avarice or meanness or bad company, if I be 46 SATIRE VI. pure and guiltless, and to praise myself, live dear unto my friends, my father was the cause of this, who, though but poor with small estate, cared not to send me to the 1 Flavins was the vil- village l school, to which boys, though the lage schoolmaster. sons of doughty captains, used to go with 2 out of the several book-bag 2 and with writing tablet hung on interpretations this seems ° 00 the most satisfactory, their left arm ; and on the 13th or 15th of iEra, the small sum every month paid their school bills, — but had paid for tuition ; octonis J r is used because the ides the spirit to take me to learn accomplish- fell on the 8th day after r l the nones. ments which any gentleman of property, or member of the House might get his children taught. All those who'd seen my well- appointed dress and slaves attending me, 3 Literally, among a as custom is in 3 a great town like ours, would great nation or people, butthe wealth of the na- think that means for such expense came tion was at Rome. ^ instead of the usual from some fine ancestral property. Then he himself, a guardian of the highest charac- ter, attended me as I went round to the Professors' lectures. And, in fine, he kept Qui honos means pudi- me chastely free from all immoral deeds, nor that alone, but even slander's slur; and purity like this is virtue's greatest ornament. Nor did he fear lest any one should blame him, if at any time I were to choose some humble calling as a crier's, or that of col- lector of the salt-fish revenues, which he himself once plied ; nor should I have com- plained, but now, through that the greater praise is due to him, and gratitude from me. Were I not mad, I ne'er should feel regret for having such a father, and on that account shall not defend myself like very many men SATIRE VI. 47 who vow that 'tis no fault of theirs they have no sires of noble birth and wide-spread fame. My words and inward thoughts are much at variance with theirs ; for just suppose that nature bade men live their lives again from some fixed year, and bade them choose, according to caprice, whatever parents they might severally wish to have, still satisfied with mine, I would not care to choose the highest officers of state for mine, mad, doubtless, as most men would think, but sensible perhaps in your view of the case, because I cared not to endure without expe- rience, the burden of such tedious distinc- tion. For, at once, more ample means would have to be acquired by me, more compliments be paid ; nay, I must then take one or two companions with me to prevent my going alone into the country or abroad, more common slaves and hacks be kept, and carriages be drawn along. While I may ride, if I but care, e'en to Tarentum, on my humble mule, the loins of which my wallet, and the sides the rider galls. Yet none (Eneid, vi., 88 2 , armus will charge me with the meanness they will f r e s " e bu^dy!V s h hert charge you, Tillius, with, when upon the sides " road to Tibur; five slaves only follow you (though high state officer you be), and carry with them cooking-pots, and basket for the wine. And yet, distinguished member of the House, I live with greater comfort than you do in this and countless other ways. I take a meditative stroll where'er I please ; 4$ SATIRE VI. I ask the price of vegetables and of corn ; I often saunter through the public market- place and cheating-circus at the close of day. I watch the prophesying dream expounders ; then I go off home to eat my meal of leek and chick-pea, and meal cakes ; my dinner's served up by three slaves, a slab of plain white marble holds two glasses and a ladle ; a cheap saltcellar stands by, a cruet and wine-bowl of common earthenware. And then I go to sleep, nor think with anxious care that I must rise betimes, or visit the 1 There was a statue law courts where Marsyas (though ugly and of Marsyas in front of J >,,,,, the Rostra where plead- of stone) snows by the upraised hand that he ers used to meet, and . . . bail be given, and usurers detests th expression of the younger Novius also carried on their busi- r _ ... _ .. ness here. Marsyas was iaCC 1 Stay Wlthm my Study Until ten a statue of the satyr of , , , - , T - ,, that name, and the jest o clock ; then at eleven I go for a walk, (i a satyrf was^ug^y or when I've read or written something that SSd g tiie usurious ch?ca- ma y please me as I meditate, I dress myself N^us°by hold^ufa with oil > but n0t with that mean filth 7 Natta dfsgustf'and s g eS Novius f does ? when he has r obbed the lamps. But must have been hideous. w ] ien ^ sun ' s nQW k eener ra y S have bid me weary go to bathe, I shun the Campus Martius, and game of ball. Then after a slight lunch, yet quite enough to save my passing through the day with empty stomach until' dinner-time, I take my ease at home. Such is the life of those who are not bound in sad ambition's grievous thrall. With such a system, I console myself that I shall live more pleasantly than if I were 2 The quscstor was the grandson, son, or nephew of some 2 petty such officer. officer of state. SATIRE VII. An account of a noisy piece of litigation that took place in the Court of Marcus Brutus, the deputy -governor of Asia, between Publius Rupilius, who enjoyed the sobriquet of " Rex," and a certain Persius, * of Clazomenae, a city in Ionia. NO doubt 'tis quite Well known in every Apothecaries and bar- i . ,, , , , , •. t> * b ers ' shops were the chemist s, every barber s shop, how Persius, places for gossip. half Roman and half Greek, repaid the thing^uffeHTromK malice and the spite of one Rupilius, an di/woJd go tothe che°- outlaw, surnamed « King." This Persius mist ' s ' and gossip there - was rich, and lent large sums of money at Clazomenae, and had a vexing lawsuit with " the King ; " a stubborn fellow was this Persius, and one who could surpass " the King" in rancour; boastful too, and pas- sionate, and of such virulence of speech as to Entirely outstrip our cleverest buffoons in x White steeds were proverbially the fastest. loud abuse. I now say more about "the King." When they could make no compro- mise — and you must know that all between whom falls out bitter strife, contend with fierceness in proportion to their bravery ; * Persius was descended from an Asiatic father and Roman mother, and was a banker and general agent. D 50 SATIRE VII. indeed, between the brave Achilles and great Hector, Priam's son, so deadly was the feud, that nought but death's last stroke could sunder them ; and all because consum- mate valour was possessed by both ; while, if two cowards quarrel, or a strife spring up between two men who are no match, as once i iiiad, vi., 234. with J Diomede the Lycian Glaucus fought, the duller of the two retires, and sends a 2 The repetition seems voluntary gift : 2 I say, since they could necessary to remove the . . effect of the long inter- make no compromise, — these two, Rupilius polation. . and Persius, when Brutus was the governor of fertile Asia, fought, a pair so aptly pitted 'gainst each other, that no gladiators e'er 5 ironical. were better matched. ( 3 Like soldiers to a battle-plain) they fiercely rush into the court, a fine sight both. Then Persius begins the case ; the bench of judges laugh; he loudly praises Brutus and his friends in court ; styles Brutus, "Asia's sun," and styles his retinue, " health-giving stars," " the King " alone excepted, for he said that he had come like 4 Because it parched that dog-star so 4 hated by the husbandmen; in fine, he poured along his torrent of abuse 5 Literally, whither just like some wintry flood, 5 where few trees seldom is brought the . , , -p, , ^ axe. grow on its steep banks. But then Prae- He was a native of . , • i 1 j , -r> • i Prseneste. neste s son m answer hurled at Persius, as he vineyard ai ?o^fsponded rolled on with fluent bitter jest, coarse gibes t0 7°Rex l mgsgate * from 6 vineyard picked, a rough vine-dresser 7 thL^ineranddid'Xr be whom none could beat, to whom full oft SS^SKSf^?^ a P asser b 7> thou S h he should cry in angry ^^Mironi who tones, -"Cuckoo! Aha! you're late," had ^^ZZ™*^ been obliged to yield. SATIRE VII. 51 1 Literally, Here Persius, now smarting ^drenched with 7 ° La o ti ^ ine ^ ar * , with x this caustic Latin wit, cries 2 The Greeks we much more ut with all a Greek's quick polished and wit- ty than the Ro- 2 repartee, O Brutus, as you're mans ; to suppose ' Graecus a mere WOnt tO kill OUr KmgS, I ask repetition of the ... idea conveyed by you here in heaven s name, why brida" would be don't you kill this King? For p °Marcus Brutus surely 'tis a task that well be- was supposed to - • be descended longS tO yOU. from L. Junius Brutus, who re- moved Tarquin. SATIRE VIII. In this Satire Priapus, a rustic deity once worshipped by the people of Lampsacus, and by the Romans after, as a guardian-god of gardens, complains that the Esquiline hill was infested by the magic rites of sorceresses, and scares them away. Pnapus speaks. I once was but a fig-tree log, a useless block, when he who carved me, doubtful whether he should make a stool or garden-god, pre- ferred that I should be the god. So, then, I was the god, great source of terror both to thieves and birds ; for my right hand together with the symbol of productiveness I show, keeps thieves in check, while on my head a reed stuck up scares off the birds so mis- chievous, and will not let them settle on the pleasure-grounds Maecenas laid out but the other day. (Ere that,) the slaves would place the corpses of their fellow-slaves thrown out from narrow cells beneath the earth in com- mon coffins to be carried to this place. This used to be the usual place of burial for all the lowest classes in the town ; and would Pantoiabus and No- have been for Gripeall, the buffoon, and for mentanus were then . alive the spendthrift too. SATIRE VIII. 53 This pillar here marked out 1,000 feet 300,000 square feet, towards the public road, 300 more towards the fields, and on it were 1 these words : — g 1 That is, it was given " This ground for burial does not pass to the ™ u biic erpetmty * • . „ I-. , 11 The oratio recta is heirs as property. But now, one may well g i ven here. live upon the Esquiline quite free from pest, and take a walk upon a sunny terrace, where but a few days ago the melancholy passers by beheld the fields disfigured by men's whiten- ing bones; although the thief, the fox, and vulture that are wont t' infest this place, do not distress or trouble me so much as do those hags who, with their incantations and their drugs, distract men's minds, for by no means can I destroy them or prevent their picking bones up from the ground, and bale- ful herbs; directly that the moon, as she 2 rolls on her course, has shown her lovely 2"VagaLuna." Soin Virgil JEn. i. 742. " Er- Orb. rans Luna." Why, I myself beheld Canidia, as with her sable robe tucked up, with feet all bare and hair unkempt she stalked on shrieking with the 3 elder Sagana; and pallor had made s Saganahad a younger both revolting to behold. They then began sister * to 4 scratch the earth with nails, and rend in 4 To mke a hole for pieces a black lamb, by biting it ; the gore the blood - was poured into the hole, so that from thence they might draw forth the shades, — the spirits meant to answer them. There was an image, canidia was the wooi- too, of wool, and one of wax ; the greater wlstiSwLL Int, ° ver one of wool to hold the lesser one in check by punishment. The waxen one stood like a suppliant, as though 'twas doomed to die 54 SATIRE VIII. By burning, torture, (like slaves) a miserable death. The woollen image called the witches' goddess to its aid, the waxen called the Fury that avenges blood, and then you might see snakes crawl forth, and hell-hounds stray about, and e'en the moon herself blush and conceal her face behind the huge gravestones. And if I do not tell the truth, may birds heap insults on i a Roman knight so my head, and may that l debauchee called by effeminate that his name ... . . was changed from Pedi- a woman s name, and Julius his paramour, atius to Pediatia. Julius TT . , . r . was a lover of his. Voranus, too, the thief, annoy me m the way man°of n Quintus LufcSus God's images detest. But why tell each par- ticular? how, speaking in alternate strains with Sagana, the spirits wailed in sad, shrill tones, and how by stealth they hid within the earth wolfs beard with tooth of spotted snake, and how from waxen image fiercer blazed the flame, and how, no unavenged spectator, I showed detestation of the cries and deeds of these two hags. For, fig tree 2 The fig-tree wood though 2 I was, I made a noise so natural and Tnd split with thTheat, loud, as sounds a bladder when 'tis burst, ^red g thehags U away. at that they ran off to Rome. Then with loud laughter and with merriment you might behold Canidia's false teeth drop out, and Sagana's high tete of hair and magic plants, s Threads of different and their charmed lovers' knots 3 upon their colours to chain the - ,. . , affections with. arms, fall to the ground. SATIRE IX. A Satire showing how Horace was annoyed by men of bad taste, who thought themselves poets and critics, and tried to gain Maecenas' favour. Horace. It happened that I took a walk upon the Sacred Road, and, as I'm wont to be, l a favourite walk. was wrapped up in some speculative trifling thought, when some one, whom I know by name alone, ran up, and shaking hands, said, " Best of men, how do you do ? " I answered, 2 " Tolerably well just now, and „ 2 The phrase wish you J * * all success is a mere frigid wish you all success." Then, as he followed form of politeness. me, I took him up with this remark, — 3 " Can 3 a usual form of leave-taking. I do aught for you before I go ? " But he replied, " You know me well, I am a man of letters." " Oh ! then I shall think the more of you," said I. Then trying very hard to get away, at one time I would walk on faster, at another stop, or whisper something to my page, 4 when 4 Literally (by hu- beads of perspiration stood upon my terror- AowSfcW §d!fch& stricken brow. Then muttered I, as he kept tom of my ankles ' prating of whatever came into his head, such 56 SATIRE IX. i Boianus was a mad, a s the rows of streets, the town, — l Bolanus, passionate fellow, who 7 soon told those he did not blest indeed were you in having that quick like what he thought of . them, and so rid himself temper. But when I persistently made no of them. Bolanus was a surname of the Veiiii, reply, he said, " You sadly want to get away : fromBola, a town of the _, J * ' , ... / * _ _/„ CEqui. I ve seen it long, but tis no use, for I shall stay on to the end ; I'll follow you where'er you go from here." Here I rejoin, " There's no use in my taking you out of your way, I want to go and call on some one you know 2 Julius c^sar gave it nothing of, he's ill in bed across the 2 Tiber, to the people. . . , . „ _ . near to the late Caesars park. But he replies, " I've nothing much to do, and I'm an active man, I'll go with you as far as that." Then like a miserable ass, in stubborn mood, when a too heavy burden has been put upon his back, I drop my wretched ears, (and say no more). Here he begins again : " Unless I'm much mistaken, you'll not value your friend Viscus more, or Varius, than me. For who can write more lines, or who more quickly, than myself, and who can dance with more lithe grace. And then I sing in such a style that 3 Hermogeneswasthe e'en our 3 greatest singer may feel envious." son of Sardus Tigel- TT . _ . . . , Hus mentioned in Satire Here was a chance of interrupting him, and iii., line ^, and the Sims T . , ,, TT iT Reeves of the day. so I said, " Have you a mother or some relative to whom your safety's dear? " "Not one," said he, " I've laid them all to rest." How blest are they ! I answer, now I'm * i suppose you'll 4 left (for you to lay to rest). Pray kill me taikmg, me a s t0 you' did now : for o'er my head impends 5 a miserable lh ^iock heroic fate which erst when she had shaken her SATIRE 1^. 57 prophetic urn, a Sabine fortune-teller pro- phesied to me. This boy, said she, no bale- ful drug, no sword in war, no pleurisy, con- sumption, no, nor crippling gout shall kill, but him a prater shall destroy sometime ; so then, if he be wise, let him flee far from those who talk too much directly that he has reached man's estate. We now had come to testa's fame, and it was nine o'clock, and * Between the Capitol then he was obliged to answer to the plain- tiff's call, or lose his caution money. Here he said, 2 Now do, dear sir, stay here awhile. 2 Like our judgment But I replied, 3 Nay, by my life, I cannot play \ d Lkemii y> may i the advocate, nor know I aught of common pens lf do ' law; besides, I am in haste to reach, you si me amas, if you . . . _ T _ ... ... love me, was a usual know what place. Well, let me see, said he, formula of polite re- what shall I do, give you up or my case? Oh, give up me I beg, cried I. But he replied, Oh no, I won't, and once more led the way; I followed, as 'tis hard to strive when overmatched. He here resumed the conversation thus : — " How stand you with your Patron now ? 4 he « Like yourself and is accessible to but few men, and has a shrewd discrimination ; none have shown more tact in their high station. You would have a powerful aid, a man who could play second to your first, if you but cared to recommend myself; why, by my life, you'd soon supplant them all." Here I replied, We do not live there in the way you think, there is no family more free from, more opposed to ills like these ; it never does me 58 SATIRE IX. any harm because some man is wealthier or better read than I, for each has there his proper place. Indeed, said he, you tell me something strange, in fact, what's scarcely credible. Yet so it is, said I. Then, he replied, you make me all the more desirous to be on closer terms with him. To this I answered, Just conceive the wish, your merit is so great you'll take the citadel by storm, and he is easy to persuade, and there- fore he makes difficult the first approach to him. Said he, Oh, I shall do my duty, I will bribe his slaves, I won't give up. If on the day on which I call, he says he's not at home, I'll choose my times, I'll meet him at the crossings of the streets, nay, I'll escort him home ; you know life gives man nought without some toil. As he kept trifling thus, a dever grammarian, quite unexpectedly my friend ^ristius met us, a man I loved, and one who knew the fellow well ; we stopped. He asked me whence I came, and whither I was bound, and answers the same questions put by me. I then began to pull and pinch his arms, which seemed without all feeling, and to hint by nod or wink that he should rescue me. But, with malicious wit and smile, he feigned Literally, anger be- not to perceive my drift ; then anger rose gan to inflame my heart .-,• -, 1T ■> • t ,, tr or liver; the # ancients within my heart, and I exclaimed, "You the U s ?at of prions more certainly said more than once that you would talk with me of something privately." But he said, " Oh, yes, I remember, but I'll tell you at a time more suitable than this, to- SATIRE IX. 59 day's A a most important Jewish feast, would 1 a holiday or feast you deride the circumcision rite?" Here hips on\L%o& dayof I replied, "I have no scruples on that the month ' score." "Ah ! but I have," said he, " I don't possess your strength of mind, I think as most men do ; 2 excuse me, pray, I'll tell you 2 The future is used at another time." Here muttered I, To tiv| am y M an impera ~ think that this day should have dawned, "Surrexe"forsurrex- so black upon my head ! The rogue ran off, and left me like a victim ready for the sacri- Literally, under the flee. At last, by chance, the plaintiff met him, and in a loud voice cried, " You villain, s The witness turned whither are you bound ? and then to me he the tip of his ear to be touched by the sum- said, " Here, do you ^witness the arrest ? moner. ▼ in i it «i/- a 4 Vero, literally in- I gladly Went through the required form, deed, has more meaning _. T .' - - . . i i • i here, and shows the He dragged him into court ; on both sides readiness with which r -n •, , -, . Horace complied. followed noisy crowds \ and so my patron- Apoiio was the guard- god preserved me from this "bore." P a n et s and defender ° f SATIRE X. This Satire is a defence of opinions expressed in Satire IV., which opinions had been unjustly found fault with by some antiquaries who over- estimated the merit of Lucilius. It also shows with great taste and wit how unable men are to form a right judgment, who praise an ancient poet to excess merely from an aversion to a contemporary. It also contains several rules for poetry. The first eight lines are not found in most MSS., or translations, and though they bear the stamp of antiquity to a certain extent, were probably written by some grammarian or commentator. Lucilius, I'll prove by evidence that Cato iA grammarian and the 'philologist Can give, who SO SUDDOrtS poet in the time of Sylla. r ° ° 7 rr your style, who tries so to correct rough 2 "Facit" is the eiiip- lines, how full of faults you are ; 2 and this he sis. "Hoc"— "quo" — * are for the more usual— does more gently in proportion as he is eo— quo. ° J x superior, and is a better critic far than he is, who, the best grammarian of all our knights, s Exhortatus is used in boyhood was 3 severely warned by whip passively, no other in- stance is found. and wet rope s end, that there might be a * Literally, our dis- man to play the champion for ancient bards ^niuc mav refer to against these 4 modern sneers. But to return. book 4th Satire .° f this Well, yes, I did say that the lines Lucilius feet Literally, ran in rough CQmp0Sed were often r0U ghly made, for WHO SATIRE X. 6 1 defends Lucilius so foolishly as not to admit this ? and yet this very bard is praised by me in the same work for having satirized the town most wittily; yet though I grant him this, I would not grant him all that's excel- lent besides ; for if I did, I should admire as perfect poetry the farces of ^aberius. 1 a Roman knight who u . . was compelled to act his It is not then enough to make your audi- own farces. ence laugh loud, — although there is some merit in this point as well, — you must be terse besides, to make your clauses rhythmical, and save their being hampered with long words that but oppress the weary ear. Again, you must employ a style, at one time grave that shows the character of orator or poet, as the case may be, and then, at other times, a sportive vein that well describes a polished wit who keeps his power in reserve, and weakens it on purpose ; and the satire's jest will generally solve all matters of great moment with more spirit and success than declamation's gravity. 2 Those authors 2 Eupoiis, Cratinus, of old comedy were popular through this ; an lstop anes ' in this 3 are models for our use ; whose works 3 Through the merits . . mentioned from lines 9 to Hermogenes the exquisite has never read, *5- nor has that 4 miserable wretch who apes his 4 "iste" implies con- . tempt. The man's name style, who has been trained to sing nought is n °t known. else but 5 Calvus' or Catullus' lines. 5 Amatory poets. 6 Well, true : yet he achieved a great success 6 An apologist for Lu- cilius says this. in using Greek as well as Latin words. O ye so late to learn, how can ye think Horace - aught hard, or worth your admiration, that 7 Pitholeon of Rhodes could do ? satirist. very fathe 62 SATIRE X. Apologist. Yet still, a Latin style agreeably mixed with Greek words is pleasanter, as if the rough Falernian be blended with the softer 1 "Nota "corresponds /^i_* „i '^^ to our "brand" and <- nian wm C. ^Horace. * as ^ vou ^ y ou niean this only when you write light lines, or also when you have to speak in some defendant's almost - Satire iv., line 94. hopeless 2 case. Although our greatest orators were pleading hard in their own tongue, 3 Canusium was an would you, forsooth, like some 3 half-Greek, Apuhan town, its inhabit- J ? 7 ants spoke Greek and half-Oscan from Canusium, forgetful of your Literally, country and fatherland, prefer to mingle phrases borrowed from abroad with your own tongue ? Why, 4Marecitra-«.*.,bom when 1, 4 Roman though I am, began to write 5 Serio-comic. Greek lines, the shade 5 of Romulus appeared when midnight's hour had struck, when dreams come true, and with such words forbade ; " you would not more absurdly carry coals to Newcastle, than you would act, • Marcus Furius Biba- if y° u Preferred to overfill Greek authors' cuius °£ Cremona was crowded ranks." While that bombastic 6 Alpine called Alpinus from a r line in his description of b ar d (as he is called) describes the death the waging of the Gallic v ' war by Caesar • he wrote of Memnon in his wretched lines, or tells a tragedy called yEthio- pedes, in which Achiiies laboriously of the source the Rhine flows plays Memnon, a myth- ical king of /Ethiopia, from, I treat of lighter themes, not meant who went to aid the Tro- • «■ 1 « • • •■ »*■ jans; Bibacuius also to be recited loudly in the Muses temple, wrote a bombastic ac- . . count of the Rhine in subject to our critic Tarpa s praise or blame, his history of the Gallic , , war. nor meant to have a run upon the stage. 7 A comic writer after _, , . , r 11 i Menander's style. Fundanius, you best of all men in the name V for a a siave. usl a world, can with good taste tell sportively He and Chremes are , -, i_ • i characters in the Andria your cpmic tales in which a cunning ° 8 SusAsinius Poiiio courtesan and slave cheat some old man, as Tacte* 8 ^ Uterary cha " Terence tells us in the Andria; while 8 Pollio SATIRE X. 63 describes kings' deeds in the Iambic Tri- meter; again, the fervid l Varius, far better 1 Varius was a tragic than all others, builds the bold heroic lines ; act0 and last, the Muse that joys so in the fields, has given gentle elegance to 2 Virgil's pen. 2 xh e Bucolics and 'Twas this satiric verse that I, when 3 Varro iish°ecf "nThe 1 was P en- Atacinus tried and failed, could write with ga 3 g v a £o was' a satirist, more success though still inferior to *Mm'^«^^^' fi E who introduced the style, nor should I dare J^gjf a <^f *■" to try to rob him of the crown that sits fif£X , £»2; so gracefully upon his brow. ™* a satirist of Sulla ' s Still I did say that what he wrote rolled th * Jgg™ introduced" turbidly 5 along, just like some torrent stream 5 Literally, that he . . . . flowed on muddily, that often bears with it more that requires (bearing) presenting to . . . . . . . a i our notice more that taking out than keeping there. And come ought to be taken away, j r j r l, • than that which ought to now, cntic as you are, do you find no fault m be left. great Homer's works ? And does Lucilius, with all his taste, make no change in the style of tragic Accius ? And does he not decry the lines of Ennius, which are not dignified enough, when he speaks of himself as one no better than the bards he blames ? And what prevents me, too, when I read what Lucilius once wrote, from asking whether his rough genius, or the rough nature of the subject-matter, would not let him pen more polished lines, or lines that ran more smoothly on (than those a man would pen) if satisfied with this alone, I mean the writing something in hexameters, he were accustomed to strike off two hundred lines before his breakfast, and c Cassius was a satirist two hundred more when he had dined, like to hVwS S and U shelves the genius of Tuscan 6 Cassius, more wild than STfuneraf pyre. ° rm 64 SATIRE X. some swift flood, for he, they say, was burnt on pyre built up with his shelves and books. Suppose, I say, Lucilius has both good taste and wit, suppose besides he is more polished than most authors are who write an inartistic style of verse, untried by Greeks ; more i More ancient poets, polished, too, than ^ndronicus, Novius, Pacuvius, or Plautus ; still suppose Lucilius had been reserved by fate for our own times, he would erase much from his works ; would cut out ail that might seem needlessly spun out, and as he formed his lines, would often scratch his head in angry thought, and bite 2 The upper end of the his nails down to the quick. 2 Ofttimes erase, stilus " was broad, and used for erasing its marks if you intend to write what may prove worth on the waxen tablet; the . lower end was sharp, and a second reading, and don't try to gam the used for writing. ... . . . . . . . admiration of the mob, but be content with a choice few to read your works. Or would you madly wish that poetry of yours should form heart lessons in some third-rate schools ? Well, I would not ; for " 'tis enough that gentlemen should give me their applause," 3 a fashionable actress, as once 3 Arbuscula, despising others in the theatre, said boldly, when hissed off the * a (( wretched poet stage, — What ? should the wretched slander his satire was 'as coarse of 4 Pantilius touch me ; should it distress me and biting as the insect , e-r-^ , , « • i of that name. that 5 Demetnus backbites me when away, or g eiii?s emetrius aped Ti ~ that some silly 6 Fannius, the singer's parasite, o™l u s wasatoady should try to injure me? May Plotius 7 and critic? e of b ?ne P d°a e ^ and Varius my patron, Virgil, Valgius, Octavius, hl FuTufXristius was a approve of what I write ; and fain I would ^TeVi^TwTknightsthat Fuscus, best of men, and both the of senatorial rank. y^j gaye the J r p ra i se • an d with nO thought SATIRE X. 65 of courting favour, I may mention you too, Pollio, and you, Messalla, and your brother, Pubiicoia Messaiia , -r^-1 i j n j i Corvinus, and Quintus and you, Bibulus and Servms, and also you, Pedius Pubiicoia. impartial Furnius, and many more ; but them, with th^e. 1S ' toget er though men of letters, and my friends, I pur- a tragic poe^historian; posely omit, and trust that these my lines, ^se^u^a philosopher] whate'er their merit be, will suit them all ; ^ c lf s X ius Sulpicius: for I shall feel chagrin if they don't please as b^'SS&T' an well as I expect they will. But you, Deme- trius, and you, Tigellius, I bid go sing your JSSEs? in t^w sentimental trash among the seated ladies !' plorare v which T ans o to sing effeminately, or whom you teach. t0 s° t0 perdition. Go, slave, and quickly write this next in order in my book now done. SATIRE I.— BOOK II. Horace pretends to ask Caius Trebatius Testa, an eminent barrister, what he ought to do, as some one had threatened him with an action for libel. Trebatius advises him either to give up writing, or describe the exploits of Augustus. The poet disclaims ability for such undertaking, and avows his intention of satirizing none but those who have assailed him unprovoked. Horace. Some think that in my satires I am too severe, and nearly libellous ; the rest consider all my writings spiritless, and that a thousand lines a day like mine could be composed as easily as yarn is spun. Treba- tius, advise me legally what now to do. Trebatius. Don't write. Ho?-ace. What ! not compose, say you, a single line ? Trebatius. I do. Horace. Well, 'pon my life, it would be best : Compare the same use 7 r J of "poteras in line 16 but I can't sleep. for " posses." Trebatius. Let those who want sound sleep do as l 1 do, dress well with oil, and thrice i Trebatius was fond of swimming and good swim o'er the Tiber's stream, and have a wine. . . . , , Such forms as " trans- skin full of good wine at night s approach : or, nanto" and "habento" _ . , ' were common in legal since so eager a desire to write impels you language, 'gainst your will, dare to describe the ex 68 SATIRE I. — BOOK II. ploits of Augustus the indomitable, for doubt- less you will gain rich guerdon for your toil. Horace. Respected sir, my powers are not a match for my desire : indeed, not any one you please can well portray a Roman army on the march, all bristling with the The "pilum" was the javelin, or Gauls' death-agony upon the spear- national weapon. J ° J r *■ point broken in the wound or wounds the An allusion to the con- Parthian inflicts while gliding off his horse. tnvance of Marius, who substituted for one of the Trebatms. And yet as erst the wise Luci- two iron pins with which the shaft of the javelin lius portrayed the younger Africanus, so you was fastened to the head, . a wooden one, so that might have drawn Augustus, just, high-souled, when the javelin struck on the shield of the ene- and brave. my it should break in- __. / ~ 1 . . . . stead of being able to be Horace. Oh, I shall do my duty when a used for hurling back, or . _ . even Dulled out from the proper time shall come, and r laccus words will fail to gain Augustus' ears unless the time be suitable ; for if you pay him awkward 2 Metaphor, from horses flattery * he spurns you, safe from all attacks. kicking back upon awk- . ward grooms. Trebatms. And how much better this than to assail in biting lines Pantolabus the rake, and spendthrift Nomentanus, when men each fear for themselves and hate the satirist, though unattacked ! is quoted nil to represent Horace. What should I do ? The 2 buffoons Confer. Persius, Sat. dance directly that the fumes of wine have Sedsum petuiantTspkne 3 mounted to their brains, and all the lamps seem cachmno.^ u ^ under . doubled. 4 Yet Castor takes delight in steeds, St< ^t^;^nZn, while boxing Pollux loves; there are as many sion sa tT th? : myth all of different pursuits as men alive ; and so, as Leda and the swan once Lucilius, 5 superior to both of us, wrote, I Argument: — li bro- 7 l ' ' thers differ how much too j ove to wr it e hexameters. Lucilius, in more should those who 7 are no relations ! times gone by, used to entrust the secrets of s /. e., in property and ° J birth; he was Pompey's his heart to books as though to trusty friends, great-uncle. ° * * SATIRE I. — BOOK II. 69 and ne'er would go to any other aid if J good or bad luck had befallen him; and . 2 The verb " contigit " ^ m implies good fortune j this is why the whole life of the ancient "acddit," reverse. bard is known as well as if portrayed in pictures such as shipwrecked sailors offer to some god. I imitate this poet, doubtful whether I am of Lucanian or of Apulian descent, for now Venusia's sons dwell close upon the confines of both countries, sent, as the old story runs, for this, when now the Sabines had been driven out, — to stay an enemy's incursion on the 2 Romans through the 2 " Romano " = " Ro- manis, ' a use common space untenanted, in case Apulia, or else Lu- enough in Livy and other writers. cania, should wage aggressive war with them. And yet this pen of mine shall make no unprovoked attack on anything that lives, and like a sword in scabbard cased shall guard Argument: — He , i 1 i 1 -r i strikes terror, as it were, me ; and pray why should I attempt to draw into the hearts of his ene- -,.-,-,-, r r -11 i i-i m ies by intimating that it while 1 m safe from all molesting highway- he is descended from -1 3 y^ t • it- , those brave Venusians men? J Jove, great Fire and king, grant who were sent to protect that this weapon may be laid aside and wear arms^if n'eceLary^nd away with rust, and that none may assail me, Savery^u^avows^hat eager as I am for peace. But he who shall ^' s m ° &5£&££ have once provoked me— 'twill be better that Tafp^dtS a line he touch me not, I cry-shall rue it, and, be- l^H-ch U s, showing come notorious, shall be the theme of jest as sober earnest. through all the town. Th' informer 4 Cervius, when he's provoked, 4 a petty advocate and , ill • 1 informer, is wont to threaten those he hates with prosecu- tion and the voting urn : Canidia will threaten all her foes with poison that Albutius once killed his wife with : 5 Turius, with signal loss 5 a corrupt judge of of any case tried when he's judge. How that time ' 70 SATIRE I. — BOOK II. men deter the foes they hate, each with the power he is most gifted with, and how the laws of nature order it, learn now by reasoning with me like this. The wolf with tooth attacks, the bull with horns : why so, unless by instinct bid? Entrust his long-lived 1 a prodigal who dab- mother to the spendthrift ^caevas care: bled in magic. 2 ironical. * affection's hand will work no deed of blood ; /. e., Scaeva is natu- and vet, no stranger this, than that the wolf rally a cunning poisoner . . . instead of an open mur- attacks none with his heels, nor ox with teeth : — for baleful hemlock will take the old lady off, when honey has been poisoned with its juice. To save all needless talk — if calm old age await me, or if death be hovering round with sable wings, — if rich, if poor, at Rome, or, an chance shall have willed it so, in banishment, what e'er the tenor of my life shall be, I still will write. Trebatius. My dear young friend, I fear you'll not live long, and I'm afraid lest some Argument: — if such one f your influential patrons should with- men as Lsehus and Afn- J * canus continued to be d raw his patronage. the friends of Lucilius, to although he wrote sa- Horace. Howso? prav. when Lucilius once tires, why should I be ... afraid of losing my pa- dared to be the first in writing verses framed trons' favour? ■ Cicero's treatise on according to this style, and to drag on that friendship is named after . . . him. specious cloak m which men severally walked so * Quintus Cascihus ..... , . .. Meteiius was an enemy fair before their fellows eyes, though base at 5 Lucius Cornelius heart, — was 3 Laelius, — was Africanus, who de- Lentulus Lupus was con- ... , . _ . . ~ sui A.r.c. 598, and noted rived his well-earned name from crushing Car- fcjr wickedness and im- . . , . , , .... piety. Lucilius, in one thage by his arms,— annoyed by genius like an assenS^of rt^^is his, or felt they pain whene'er 4 Meteiius was aSiVs^and °discu"Sng attacked, or * Lupus thoroughly lampooned? TShiS!!*" SP " An d yet he took the leading public men to SATIRE I.-— BOOK II. 7 1 task, the public, too, l through every class alike ; i /. e . , through ail the and, sooth to say, he spared but virtue and pe riph~nSs foTthe'whoie its friends. But Scipio so brave in war, and peop e# Laelius so gently wise in state, were wont to trifle in his company, and sport with playful ease, until their humble meal was cooked, directly that they had withdrawn themselves from this life's busy stage into their own re- treats. Whate'er I be, though far below 2 Lu- a Luciiius was of eques- . . . trian origin, and grand- cilius in means and genius, yet Envy must per- uncle to Pompey the ° J J Great on the mother's force confess that I have ever lived among the side. 3 great, and when she tries to fix her tooth on /Such as Augustus, Maecenas, and Polho. some weak place, will strike against what's hard and firm, unless, most learned barrister, you do not quite agree with this. Trebatius. Oh yes, I quite approve. Yet Trebatius employs the ... , 11-11 legal word "diffindere," still, that you may be advised and on your not in the sense of mak- j . . - ing a matter stand over guard, lest, as may happen, ignorance of for f rther consideration, j ■, Till* 11 but in its ordinary sense sacred law should bring some trouble on your f rejecting or altering, head, I tell you that there is a 4 court and ver- 4 The lex Cornelia is diet too, in case a man shall have composed against another verses that are bad because they're libellous. Horace. Yes, true ; if any one have written Horace pretends to verses that are bad because they're weak ; ^u^use^of the word but how if any one shall have composed " mala - lines, good according to Augustus' view, and shall be praised by him for them, or if one have lampooned those worthy of reproof, deserving none 5 himself ? „ Integer ipse „ Ho _ Trebatius. The magistrates will smile, and ^frllfromTufaiits* give their votes with lenience, and you will be but 1J fr( ? m , such . as . he ° J would then be satirizing. set free and leave the court without a fine. SATIRE II.— BOOK II. Under the character of a Roman countryman, the poet recommends a more frugal style of living than that which prevailed among the luxurious inhabitants of Rome, and also cautions men against erring in the other extreme, as some did. Horace. Good friends, learn, not sur- rounded by bright gold and silver plate, or marble tables, when the gaze is dazzled by th' excessive glare, and when the heart, inclined to choose the false, rejects the better course, but here, ere tasting food, discuss with me the nature and extent of good there is in living in a humble way ; and these are not my words, but rules a countryman Ofella gives, who, though belonging to no sect, is a philosopher possessed of healthy common sense. A friend puts this ques- Why this ? Horace. I'll tell you if I can. All those whose sense of truth high living once has spoiled, but feebly search for right. When you i He contrasts the have coursed the hare, or when you're tired Roman hunting and *.% « , • • ■, »/• *_i l-n riding with the Greek with breaking in a horse, or if the 'Roman dicing and game of hoop, i • i 2 The construction is hunting weary you, accustomed as you are (agft'le), moliiter'auT- 2 to nve like Greeks effeminately, then, if the b^m(hide i0 pu^ C,,tela " swift tennis-ball attract you —while the inte- tion. SATIRE II. BOOK II. 73 rest you take makes you delightfully forget , The Romans every day took strong exercise the rough exertion of the game, — why, play before the undeviating P . . ° ' J7 r J custom of bathing. One at tennis; or if quoits be more your fancy, of the most favourite ex- . . 'iiiii • ercises was the game of cleave the yielding air with the hurled quoit, bail, which was then . ., , r •-, i , played by adults in I hen, when your toil has forcibly removed various ways, and is now ,. .-, i*i r . r in Italy. Horace here disgust, ere tasting food or drink, refuse, if refers to the "piia" or ^ ,-, r i i • i ,i • smaller ball, something then you can, all common food, drink nothing Hk e our tennis-baU, and but the primest * honey mixed with richest of football. ° 1S ' wine. Suppose your butler has gone out, or s J^ e , b™sV™\™n?t°d that the sea keeps safe its fish through louring |^^ &£ storm; no matter, bread and salt will well *£ t^nd Sd appease so good an appetite. And whence b Trh^ honey' of H y - gained this, think you, or how ? The greatest ^^Tf£S^^ pleasure is not found in food that's dear and the richest The allusion 1 is to the mulsum, or savoury, but all depends upon yourself. Get mead > which was taken ■* 7 * x J as a sort ol whet or ante- relish to your food by hard exertion, for nor P ast - oyster, no, nor rich red mullet, nor the Alpine grouse, will give delight to the pale glutton bloated with excess. Yet, were a peacock served upon the table, scarcely could I drag you from it, and suppress your wish to whet your appetite with it in place of common food, misled as you would be by specious show, because a bird that's rare is sold for a great price, and makes a splendid show with tail of varied hues: — as though that were aught to the point. Pray, do you eat that plumage that you praise so ? No. Pray, has the bird such beauty cooked ? No. Yet you'd , The construction is J J thus : — Patet te decep- rather eat its flesh than that of fowl, although tum imparibus formis (vescij or (vesci cupere) they are the same. 'Tis clear that you're came hac magis (quam came) ilia. misled by mere outside, that differs so. Well, granted : — but whence do you get 74 SATIRE II. — BOOK II. the nice taste to decide if this pike gasping * Pike were thought / on t h e shore) was ! caught in Tiber's stream better of when caught v / o after a storm or when or i n the sea, — if it swam through rou^h floods weaned with making 7 ° ° their way against an ad- betwixt the bridge of piles and of Fabricius, verse stream. . or nearer to the river's source in Tuscany. You praise a mullet, madman that you are, - i. e., an unusually that only weighs 2 three pounds, which you're fine one. Domitian's ce- . . . J lebrated mullet weighed obliged to cut into small bits to give each six pounds, and was . thought miraculous. guest a taste. I see, it is appearance that attracts \ and since that's so, what good is there in loathing those long pike ? No doubt you loathe them so, since nature has bestowed on them too large a bulk, and on the mullet but small weight. The appetite that's ever cloyed despises common food. Yes, but I could have wished to view a fish of wondrous size stretched out at length on some large dish, says Gluttony, that e'en 3 He refers to the 3 voracious monsters might well suit. Harpies, described bv -in r - Virgil, ^Eneid Hi. 210, O come with all your forces, ye south winds, and following lines, as _. . . 1 -1 • r-id-vT devouring and defiling and taint these gluttons dainty food. 4 Nay, the food of /Eneas and , , i r 1 -i i i i i his followers. there s no need : — for the wild boar and turbot dignatTon her?. 10 e ° m ~ too, although quite fresh, are stale enough to reflecJttoaUfo^i'aSe them, since such distressing plenty cloys the is flavourless to them. ^^ ^^^ SQ fl^ sated as ft is? [ t rat h er fancies radishes or elecampane dressed in vinegar. Although not yet is all plain food Eggs and olives were excluded from our nobles' boards, for even eaten at the commence- . j j i mem. of the dinner ; the now the common egg and dark preserving latter were supposed to . . , ,, • 1 5 XT ,_ -, be provocative of appe- olive have their place. Not very long ago, 11 The dark olives were the table of Gallonius the auctioneer was forTese d rvm g be the ^ quite notorious for having on it served a stur- 5 Eighty years before, i 1 , in the time of Lncilius. geon WllOle ! SATIRE II BOOK II. 75 What ! did the ocean not breed turbot then as now? 1 Yes, but the turbot then was safe, and safe 1 The argument is, that the stork in unmolested nest, until the ex- ^ ch thou^of^htn as mayor Rufus showed you how to cook them ^Vhatwgktt^o both. So now-a-days,if any one have solemnly vo |^ pronius Rufus . affirmed that sea-gulls roasted are good food, the 2 noble youth of Rome, so quick to learn 2 ironical. the wrong, will listen to his words. Eut, 3 as 3 That is, i am com- . mending a plain and rao- Ofella thinks, mean living Will not be the derate, not a mean style same as moderate, and surely useless will it be for men to shun one fault, 4 if they be 4 « si te alio ita detor- so turned by another from the right as to sens ' u pra ^ u become depraved. A certain miser, who e'en now is called " the Dog " because he really is so dirty, lives on olives spoilt by being kept five 5 times too long, and cherries 5 They would only keep that grow wild ; nor will he pour his wine from cask to bowl until it's flavourless, and 6 Lest the slave should put too much on. on his cabbage drops 6 himself with niggard "instiiiat cauiibus o- ° _ x °° _ leum cujusolei odortm. hand — though liberal enough with the spoilt vinegar — from cruet made of "horn that 7 /.*•• of the com- monest kind. holds two pints, such oil that one could never bear the smell ; and this, although in fresh- fulled toga clad he keep the after 8 marriage » The bridegroom gave r . . 1 a dinner on the dav after least, or birthday, or some other holiday, the marriage, and the , 171 , , . , r ^' • 1 -ii i i-i carousing was then re- What kind of living, then, will the philoso- newed. pher adopt, and which class will he imitate, — the gluttonous or miserly? 9 1 am between two 9 Literally, a wolf presses me on this side, nres, as the proverb says. a dog on that. Philosophers will so consult good taste, as never to disgust their guests by meanness, or unluckily go wrong in either style of life : — 76 SATIRE II. — BOOK II. will ne'er, as he assigns their work, be harsh to thrLtt^hi^siaves^vith s ^ aves as °^ ^lbutius once was ; nor will they, death if they did not do like good easy Naevius, rive greasy water to his commissions exactly. ° ' 7 ° ° J He would flog his slaves their guests to wash their feet in ; this is fla- before they had com- ° pitted any offence say- errant want of taste. Now learn the nature and ing that he feared he ° should not have time extent of good that plainer living brings with after they had done . b r & & wrong. He made a great it. And first you'd have good health: for show on a little. ... ... m 2 « u t » = quomodo ; you may well believe how 2 bad for man is rich credere." and varied food, when you think of the diet which, plain though it was, agreed so well with you in days gone by ; whereas, directly you have mixed boiled meat with roast, shell- fish with game, these dainties will turn into bile, and sluggish phlegm will cause derange- ment of the stomach. Do you see how pale 3 J er ^ e v? horm J°i ?» each guest gets up from 3 dinner, where one 2, 28 : "P. Ccena dubia . . apponimr. g. Quid istuc scarce can tell which dish to choose ? Nay, verbi est ? P. Ubi tu J dubites, quid sumas po- more : the body, burdened with th' excess of tissimum." yesterday, weighs down with it the soul as 4 He alludes to the we u anc [ ma kes that 4 emanation of the god- btoic doctrine, that our ' ° minds are emanations \fe e Essence grovel on the ground. The other from God s universal ° ° mind. Pythagoras held when he has laid down to sleep his limbs re- the same idea. # x freshed as quickly as may be with food, gets up quite vigorous for the day's rule of work. Yet he'll be able at due times to change to richer food, if the returning year have brought a holi- day, or if he shall wish to recruit his frame, now b "Ubique"=etubi. spare with living low, when, 5 too, he shall be growing old, and when the feeble stage of life shall need a gentler treatment ; but, pray what addition will be made for you to that luxurious indulgence which, while young and strong you now anticipate, in SATIRE II. — BOOK II. 77 case bad health or crippling age fall to your lot? The ancients praised a boar e'en if high- flavoured, not because they had no sense of smell, but, I believe, with this idea, that any guest who might come rather late should eat it, tainted as it was, more suitably than that the greedy host should swallow it when fresh. Oh that the earth in days gone by had brought me forth to dwell among such demigods as these ! No doubt you have regard for fame, for 1 * Quae =qui PP e quae, words of fame fall on the ear of man more pleasantly than song ; well, know 2 that these 2 " Scito" is understood * J o ; 7 .in thought. large turbots and expensive dishes bring with them both great disgrace and loss. Then, further, there's your 3 uncle's and your 3 , The A m -™ ture u of J J uncles and step-mothers neighbour's rage, yourself disgusted in your was proverbial, heart, and wishing death would come, but all in vain, since you'll not have a penny piece to buy a halter with. Yes, rightly, he replies, is Trausius the bank- rupt blamed in words like those of yours, but I have ample revenues, and wealth sufficient for three noblemen. Then is there nothing on which you can spend your surplus income better ? Why do any suffer want they don't deserve while you are rich ? Why do the gods' time-honoured fanes fall to decay? And why, insatiate wretch, don't you mete out from those large stores of wealth some portion for your fatherland which should be dear ? No doubt 4 on you alone will 4 ironical, fortune never cease to smile ! O you doomed 7S SATIRE II. — BOOK II. soon to be great source of laughter to your enemies when all your wealth is spent ! Now which of these two characters will have a surer self-reliance 'gainst reverse ? The one i *■ Superbus " applies w ho has Ions: used his haudity mind ' and both to "mens and ° . '• corpus." pampered frame to luxury, or he who, satisfied with humble life, and careful of his future lot, like a good general has well prepared for war in time of peace. And this I'll tell you, that you may more readily believe: — when quite a little boy, I knew Ofella did not spend his yet un straitened means more lavishly than he does now they are curtailed. You might have seen him, with his flocks and sons, as a stout tenant farmer in the land the public ■5 Umbrenus got officer assigned 2 Umbrenus, and his words Ofella's land in the divi- ' sion of conquered pro were these, — " But seldom upon working days pertv : because he had served at PhUippi against have I ate aught but greens and a smoked Brutus and Cassius. , . . . . _ r . " _ _ - leg of pork. And if some mend I had not seen for long, or neighbour called, and proved a welcome guest to me when disen- gaged through rain, we then enjoyed — no fish conveyed from town, but fowl and kid, and after that a bunch of grapes that had been hung to dry, while walnuts and split figs made our dessert. And then we played 3 The game was pro- a 3 game, and forfeits in it fixed the wine bablv one of dice, and . the one who made a mis- we had to drink or go without ; and Ceres take had either to drink .. i • i -i i , r> • • i a bumper or go without worshipped with the words, 'So rise with wine when he wanted it. . r , n , 4 , , . . . . 4 in the oratio recta the lofty stalk, smoothed out with wine the words would be "surge • a a r • i ?i T , c cuimoaito." wrinkles of our anxious brows. Let for- " vcnVraL^' aS con e fer S vir- tune frown, and stir fresh tumult up, how gil,<^neid,"m. >4 6c. ^^ ^^ wfl] ^ ^ &Qm ^^ ^^ SATIRE II. — BOOK II. 79 tages? — how much less fat and strong, my children, and my slaves, have you been since this new resident came here? And I say u resident," because nor him nor me nor any one has nature fixed to be the owner of the land in perpetuity. He turned me out, and him profuse expenditure, or ignorance of legal quirk, or certainly at last, his heir, who's longer lived, will oust. The farm now bears Umbrenus' name, and lately bore Ofella's ; 'twill belong in perpetuity to none, but pass into the tenancy now of myself, now of some other man. So, then, live bravely on, and bravely stem adversity's opposing stream. SATIRE III.— BOOK II. This Satire contains a conversation between Horace and Damasippus, a silly fellow, who, after losing all his property in trade, grew a long beard, and strutted about the forum in a philosopher's cloak, reciting the rules Stertinius, a garrulous philosopher, gave him. Horace represents Damasippus as intruding upon him in his Sabine villa on the festival called Saturnalia, which w T as held on the 17th of December and few following days, in memory of the good old times when men were all more equal, and lived an easy primitive life. Damasippus, You write so seldom now, that ^he writing on the you don't ask for parchment four times in wax tablets was tran- scribed on parchment, the year's whole length, emending all you have composed, and angry with yourself because, indulging as you do in wine and sleep, you tell in verse nought worth the 2 As Horace does not mentioning. What will be done ? 2 What, immediately reply, Da- . masippus answers his nothing ! Yet you fled to this retreat at the own question. . . ' commencement of old Saturn s noisy festival. So then, in earnest, tell us something suitable to your professions : come, begin. You utter not a word. 'Tis no use blaming pens, and striking unoffending walls built 'neath the gods' and poets' ire. And yet you had the SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 8 1 air of one who made us many splendid pro- mises, if but your little country house had sheltered you beneath its comfortable roof. What good was it to pile ^enander's works " a Greek comic on Plato's, and to take forth such distin- guished COmradeS On the road as 2 Eup0lis, Or 2 An ancient Greek comic writer. as 3 Archilochus ? Are you preparing to draw 3 The inventor of the envy's teeth by turning 4 idle now? If so, 4Vimis = industria you'll be most wretchedly despised : — that wicked Siren Sloth must be avoided, or what- ever praise you've gained by your more ener- getic life must be surrendered with content. Horace. 5 May heaven's powers combine 5 Horace here pre- . . tends not to know that to find a barber for you, Damasippus, in Damasippus had turned r . . , , . . . . philosopher, and there- return for this your good advice ; but by what fore had grown the , , "philosophic beard," and means came you to know my character so so he jestingly expresses 1 , p a w ^ sn tnat heaven would Well r confer the greatest bless- Damasippus. Why, after I lost all I had riddmg°hiim oThis' dirxy on 'Change, I turned philosopher, and saw to eard * other people's business, when ejected from my own by creditors : — for once, a virtuoso, I would hunt out some bronze bath in which that cunning 6 Sisyphus had washed his feet. 6 Sisyphus founded . -ii • Corinth, and was the I'd notice too what might be carved in mar- son of iEoius. tistic style, or cast in rather rough a mould. Then, as a connoisseur, I fixed the value of this statue at eight hundred pounds ; I, best of all men, could buy pleasure-grounds and houses at a profit, whence all those who thronged the streets at auctions called me » , , , . , r 7 There was a corpora - ' MerCUry himself. tion of traders at Rome Tr T t j .'ii^i. called Mercuriales. Horace. 1 know, and am astonished that s "Morbi purgatum" you're rid of that sad aberration 8 of the mind. foAm^rbo purgatum/' 1 F 82 SATIRE III. — BOOK II. Damasippus. Nay, but in wondrous wise, a new disease of mind has rid me of the former one, as happens when distressing pleurisy or headache changes to a stomach- l<< Cw"=os ventricals ache : l — as when the apoplectic men one sees "trajecto" is a medical term. turn boxers in a frenzy fit, and drive their doctors off. 2 Horace speaks ironic- Horace. 2 As long as VOU do IlOUght like allv. the Stoic seriouslv. , there is an ellipsis thlS tO me, do aS yOU Will, cf the words, " in me . . fcu;""esto" is the third Damasippus, My dear sir, dont deceive yourself, both you and nearly all besides are mad and fools, if aught of truth Stertinius can sThe verb "crepat" 3 din into one's ears, from whose dictation I jonvevs an idea of re- , j .-i i r teration and a loud attentively wrote down these rules of won- drous worth, what time, to solace me, he bade me grow a "philosophic beard," and 4 Built by Fabridus come back from the 4 bridge of suicides with Ine consul : used like our ° Waterloo might be for clear ed-up brow. For when I, through my ruined state, would fain have veiled my head and leapt into the stream, he luckily 5 " Cave faxis" = cave stood by and said, 5 " See that you do not any- ne facias ; faxis being the , . . - ....... old form for facias or thing unworthy of yourself; it is false shame that tortures you, for you're afraid to be thought mad when all the world is mad. And first, I'll try to find the nature of this madness out, and if it prove to be in you alone, I'll , utter not another word to stay your dying cchrysippiporticus" with stout heart. 6 Chrysippus' sect and was a colonnade at ., ,-. ,1 j 1 • • Athens, where Zeno and pupils say that all are mad whom VICIOUS folly or the ignorance of truth drives blindly on. This philosophic rule applies to nations and to mighty kings, and all but the philoso- pher. Now listen to the reason why all those aperorrags SATIRE III. — BOOK II. S3 who've called you ' madman ' are as mad as you. As in the woods, when some mistake drives from the beaten track men vaguely wandering, one goes off to the right, another to the left, — they make the same mistake, but in quite opposite directions ; — so think that you're mad, and that the man who mocks you is no saner than yourself, and a fit * laugh- taii^'^papSof 8 ! ingstock for boys." There is one kind f fixe ' doD ' b y^ s ' folly that dreads what there is no cause to dread, and so complains that fire and rock and flood oppose its way in th' unobstructed plain ; and there's a second sort quite oppo- site to this, and quite as mad, — I mean of him who rushes through the midst of flames and streams, though his dear mother, his chaste sister, his relations, father, wife, should cry a deep ditch here, a high, rock there, take care : he'd 2 hear no more than 2 in the play iiiona, . the actor Fufius fell Fufius some time ago when drunk, as he asleep through wine, and . ill Catienus, who acted the slept out the play Inona, although two part of the ghost, could , t t . , . n „, , not wake him with the hundred thousand voices cried out Catienus words, "Mater te ap- words, "I call thee, mother, mine." I'll audfenc/shouted out the prove that all men are afflicted with a mad- ness like to this. Here's Damasippus 3 mad po ^«°^ JSJ£ in buying antique statues, 4 while the man id f^ e supposes the who lends him money is of quite sound creditor to be sane, but J ^- only to prove him as mind. Well, yes, Suppose he is. Yet if I mad as Damasippus. say to you, Here, take a sum, which you can never pay me back again, shall you be mad if you accept the sum, or more dis- traught if you refuse the " find " that fav'ring 'Mercury so sends? Draw up ten bonds 84 SATIRE III. — BOOK II. » Nerius was one of framed by our greatest usurer; — 'tis not the chief money-lenders , ,, , , , -i i i -i • , • at Rome. enough : then add a hundred obligations "Cicuta" (hemlock) drawn up by Cicuta skilled in quibbles of was so called from his . . . , . . . . . . chilling, hard nature as a the law : then add a thousand legal ties besides; yet still this rascal, like a second 2 Proteus was a sea- 2 Proteus, will escape the chains. god who had the power . of changing himself into When, as he laughs excessively, you hurry ill kinds of* sn3.DCS * n.6 is described in the 4 th him into the court, he will become a boar, anon a bird or stone, and when he will, a tree. Since to mismanage one's affairs be- speaks the madman, and to manage well, the sane ; believe me, old Cicuta is more addle- headed than you when he tells his clerk to write a cheque for what you never can repay. I bid you list to me, and now prepare to carefully attend, all you whose cheeks are pale through that pernicious quest of rank or greed of gain ; all you whose passions are inflamed by luxury, or hearts distressed by gloomy superstition, or by any possible disease of mind ; approach in order nearer me, while I explain that all are mad. The miser needs by far the strongest cure ; I Anticyra was in the almost think philosophy intends Anticyra's Maliac gulf, and the . supposed cure for mad- whole produce for hlS USC ness — "hellebore" — ,-, i • » i • • -it i • ., i grew there. Staberms s heirs inscribed upon his tomb known of^Staberius. r a the sum he left, for had they not done so, they would have been obliged to give a hundred pairs of gladiators for the public show, a banquet suited to th' expensive tastes 3 Amus was a friend of of 3 Arrius, and all the corn that's reaped Cicero, and gave a , splendid funeral feast to in Africa. For said Staberms, " It was my his father. .,..-., . ... .. jit will if right, it was my will if wrong, don t be SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 85 severe with me." Methinks the foresight of Staberius anticipated this reluctance to adopt the clause. What was his meaning, then, in ordering his heirs to carve upon his tomb the sum he left? Why, while he lived, he thought that poverty was a great vice, and guarded against nothing with more care ; so that, if he had died, as possibly he might, less wealthy by a single farthing, he'd have thought himself less virtuous: — *for merit, fame,. ■ Stertinius says this and glory, all things human and divine bow low before fair Money's power, and he who has amassed this wealth will be distinguished, brave, and just. 2 Will he be a philosopher as well? Ay, 2 Stertinius asks him- , . . , , , . .„ self and answers. and a king, and whatsoe er he will. Staberius expected that th' inscription, as though earned by merit, would prove a great source of fame to him. How widely different the Greek sage 3 Aris- 3 see page 195, Epistle tippus acts ! who in the midst of Libyan deserts bade his slaves throw down the gold because they made but little way, grown lazy through the weight they bore. Which is the madder Of these 4 tWO ? . 4 Staberius or Aris- tippus. 5 We cannot tell. An instance that m 5 stertinius here re- . members that the theory trymg to solve doubt but causes fresh, brings of his sect was that one . __ .. ill 1 could not solve one no result. Yet, if a man should purchase doubtful matter by creat- Till m S another, and gives lutes, and having purchased, should at once U p the comparison be- . n i i iii tween the miser and the convey them all to the same place, although man who has no regard , , . , , ,, .. for money, and proves addicted not to playing on the lute or any the miser to be the other branch of the musician's art : — if one ^tances^o pLn^aVto Who Were no CObbler Should buy paring . -quire no illustration. 86 SATIRE III. — BOOK II. knives and lasts, one disinclined to trade, buy sails and gear for ships : why, men like these would justly be by all called mad and crazed. And, pray, what difference is there between such men and him who stores up gold and silver coin, and knows not how to use his gains, but fears to touch them just as if tabooed ? Suppose a man, long club in hand, should ever watch stretched out at length by a large heap of corn, and though the owner, and though hungry, should not dare to touch a single grain of it, but niggardly should rather feed on bitter leaves; if he should drink bad vinegar, although he keeps, stored up within, a thousand, nay, three hundred thou- sand casks of Chian wine and old Falernian : — nay, if a man, though eighty years of age, should lie on horse-rugs, while his richly broidered coverlets, the prey of moths and worms, were rotting in his chests, no doubt he would seem mad to very few, because most men are just as mad. Old man, detested by the gods, pray, do you guard this wealth so that your son, or possibly a freedman as your heir, may squander it ? or is it lest you come to want ? Nay ; for how small the sum each day's expense will take from your whole wealth, suppose you do begin to dress your cabbages, and head, defiled with un- combed scurf, with better oil ! When very little is enough, why falsely swear, and filch, and rob where'er you can ? Pray, are yoic SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 87 sane ? If you began to stone the public and the slaves you purchased, young and old would all alike cry out that you were mad : though as the common people think you're in your right mind when you kill x your wife ^varice often ends in Jo J •> murder and matricide. by strangling, and your mother by the poisoned bowl. Perhaps you'll say, 2 Why not ? or say, you 2 Stertinius ironically . J y . supposes the following do not tlllS at ArgOS, Or that yOU don't kill defence on the part of the man who kills wife your mother with a sword, as erst Orestes or mother :— i who have .... . ., ..... only committed a crime did when mad : — or do you think that he went of every-day occurrence mad when he had done the deed of blood, derers and prisoners t ,-,. ii-r<* 1 i i dwell, I who deliberately and was not driven mad by runes ere he had killed my mother, am imbrued the sharp sword in his mother's Orestes who m Sew his throat? Moreover, from the time Orestes ff*5«£? andTl was supposed to be of unsound mind, he ^ e J^ r ° a ^ here the certainly did nought that one could find fault with : he ne'er attempted to attack his friend or sister with a sword : he but reviled them both by calling her a Fury, him what- ever term his hypochondria suggested to his mind. 3 Opimius, who had so much, though 3 Nothing more was ., . iii-i i • i • known of Opimius. really poor in gold and silver, stored within his house ; who drank " vin 4 ordinaire " on 4 The Veientan wine i_ i-j i -i. j was a poor wine of the holidays, and mere spoilt wine and water c iaret kind. poured into the cup with 5 common ladle 5 The most ordinary upon working days, was seized once with pa^. was from Cara ~ a grievous fit of lethargy, so that his heir -in joy and triumph skipped about among his coffers with his keys. But him his faithful doctor with prompt energy raised up like this : — he ordered that a table should be placed close by : the bags of money emptied 88 SATIRE III. BOOK II. on it, and that several should come to count it out; so he restored the man, and said besides these words : — " If you don't guard your own, your greedy heir will soon make off with all this wealth." Not, surely, while I live ? Well, then, that you may live, rouse up, do this. What do you mean ? Your veins will make no blood to keep you up thus weak, unless some strong support should aid your failing appetite. What, do you hesitate ? Come now, take this rice gruel. At what cost ? Oh, very small ! Yes, but how much ? Well, sixpence. O what misery ! what matters whether I come to my grave through some disease, or through such theft and robbery ? i Stertinuis again puts ^Who then is sound in mind ? questions, and answers tfoem. himself. All those who are not fools. And what about the miser ? He's a madman and a fool. And if a man be not a miser, is he there- fore sound in mind ? Oh dear no, not at all. 2 He addresses himself 2 Why, Stoic, pray ? in' the vocative. I'll tell you. If one patient's stomach be all right, (suppose ' Cratems was a distin- that 3 Paget said so,) is he therefore strong,and ployed by P At£cui n ' " will he leave his bed of pain ? The doctor SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 89 will say No, because he is attacked by pleu- risy or Bright's disease. Suppose a man be nor forsworn nor mean : then let him slay a x pig in honour of his fav'ring household gods ; i The usual monthly yet still suppose he hunt for place and be un- S^tSunSSd to scrupulous : then let him sail off to 2 Anticyra oi ? To get hellebore to at once. For, pray, what matters it if you throw cure hls madness - all you have into some fathomless abyss, or ne'er enjoy your gains ? 'Tis said that 3 Ser- sserviusOppidiuswas vius Oppidius, a man of wealth and good old family, gave at 4 Canusium to each of his two 4Canusium, now Ca- r m 1 r i i_ J • j j • nosa, was in Daunia. sons one of the farms he had, and dying, called the youths to his bedside, and said these words : — When, Aulus, I had seen you carry care- lessly your dice and nuts, give them away and play with them, and you, Tiberius, count them with anxious brow and bury them in holes, I then was terribly afraid, lest mad- ness quite opposed in kind should influence you both : lest you, Tiberius, should imitate and you, Aulus, prove a prodigal. . 5 Nomentanus, Sat,i., ■ 102. So, then, entreated by your hearths and Cicuta, Sat, n., ih\, 69. homes, take care, you Aulus, lest you squander, you Tiberius, lest you increase too much the sum your father thinks enough, and nature fixes limits to. Nay, more, that long- ing for renown may not excite your minds, I'll bind you by an oath : whichever of you two shall e'er be e'en the 6 lowest officer of state, e The offices of ediie let him be infamous and be accursed. You'd avenueT^to ^"highest squander all your property in largesses of P referment - peas, and beans, and tares, so that with 90 SATIRE III. — BOOK II. flowing dress you might strut in the circus, and have statues made of bronze, stript of your land, you madman, and the person- alty too, your father left, so that, forsooth, you, like the cunning fox that aped the noble lion once, might gain th' applause *Agrippa, afterwards 1 a orirma train <5 consul, gave a most mag- A 5 n PP a g a * n S. toSM pTopie" Soldier. Great Atreus' son, why do you say of h edile C t0 ° k ^ 0f&Ce mei1 mUSt n0t WlS ^ t0 k UrV ' A J aX HOW? a supposed conversa- Ammemnon. I am a king. tion here takes place be- ° ° tween Agamemnon and Soldier. Then I, your humble subject ask one of his common sol- J J diers. who probably really r\Q more. represents the Stoic phi- losopher. Agamemnon. Besides, my order is quite 2 Ajax,sonofTelamon, was a Greek hero who fair, and if I seem to any man unjust, I let contended with Ulys- . . . . ses for the possession of him with impunity express his thoughts. the arms of Achilles, and 7 7 . .. _ . , . . . when Ulysses obtained Soldier. Most mighty king, may heaven them he went mad and , r . . killed himself. The Greek grant that after taking Troy you may lead atfagedy on die subject! home your fleet ! Shall I then be allowed to 3 He humorously com- ask and answer 3 questions as the lawyers pares the king to a bar- . rister. and their clients do ? Agamemnon. Oh yes ! ask on. Soldier. Pray, why does Ajax, son of Tela- mon, the bravest man next to Achilles, famed for having saved the Greeks so oft, through whose strong arm so many youthful warriors fell on a foreign field, unburied rot, that Priam's people and their sovereign may exult o'er him denied a tomb ? Agamemnon. When mad, he slew a thou- 4 Agamemnon offered sand sheep, declaring loudly that he killed in Auh^to^appLsTus renowned Ulysses, Menelaus, and myself. ^ l th: P !;na ed g ) ain D i an fair Soldier. And, godless man, pray, are you bound i°hi P s Ms weather * sound in mind, when 4 you in Aulis place your SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 9 1 child that should be dear, just like a calf before the altars, and then sprinkle sacrificial meal upon her head ? Agamemnon. What means all this ? Soldier. Why, how was Ajax mad when with his sword he killed the sheep ? He did no violence unto x his wife or child, and though ■ Tecmessa and Eury- 7 ° saces. he cursed the sons of Atreus much, he did no harm to Teucer, nay, nor e'en Ulysses. Agamemnon. True : but I appeased the gods with blood on purpose to set free the ships fast bound upon the hostile shore. Soldier. But surely with your own blood, madman. Agamemnon. With my own, but I'm not mad. 2 . 2 End of pretended He who shall form ideas that don't agree with truth, and are confused through the disturbance in men's minds that guilt will cause, shall be esteemed deranged, nor will it matter whether he go wrong through folly or through rage. When Ajax slays the un. offending sheep, as you say, he is mad : and when you perpetrate a crime to win an empty name are you right in your mind? and is your heart free from all fault when it's upheaved by passion's tide ? Suppose a man should take about a pretty lamb in a sedan, get ready clothes for it, and maids and gold, as for a daughter, call it Rufa or Pusilla, and intend that it should be the bride of some brave man, the magistrates 3 correspond 1 "^ very ^ich would take all legal rights away from him, S^SSL* our own 92 SATIRE III. — BOOK II. and the administration of his property would pass to his sane relatives. And- what of him who gives to death a daughter, like a brute and speechless lamb? Is he in his right mind ? Ne'er say he is. So, then, where there is vicious folly, there the greatest mad- ness dwells. The criminal will be distraught, and round the man whom specious fame has dazzled, the war-goddess who exults in blood will ring her thunders and send mad. Now come and join me in my censures upon luxury and prodigals, for well philosophy i vinco for evinco, to will l show that foolish spendthrifts are insane. prove, is rarely found in prose. The moment that some man received a ■ The talent was worth 2 quarter of a million pounds his father left, he issued orders by his slaves that fishmongers and fruiterers, that poulterers, perfumers, and that godless mob that dwell in street Turarius, that sausage-sellers and buffoons, * " Veiabro :"— there 3 cheesemongers, oilmen, and the AKS ~ was a marsh once at the ... 4 Omne macel- bottom of the Aventine dealers in both 4 fen and flesh, lum -" . The ab - hill, where commodities ' stract is put for were carried in barges ShOUlQ Oil the lllOrrOW all COllie the concrete, the (veho), and afterwards . shambles for the a street for cheese- tO lllS HOUSC dealers. What then took place ? They came in crowds. The pander was the spokesman, and said this : — " Whatever I or each of these men have at home, think that your own, and send for it at once or else another day." Just iHe turns first to one, ij sten to tne kind young man's replv : "You and then another trades- J & rv vy " sleep in hunting-leggings cased in the Luca- nian snow, that I may dine upon a boar ; and you catch in your drag-net from the stormy sea, the fish I eat. I am not worthy, SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 93 idle as I am, to have all this : away with it ! Here, take eight thousand pounds, you take the same, and you take thrice as much from whose house runs your wife so oft when called by me." The actor ^Esop's ! son drew from 2 Metella's i iEsopus was a ceie- ... - .... . brated tragic actor. ear a splendid pearl, and melted it m vinegar, 2 Meteiia was divorced . . . .. - 1 from Caecilius Lentulus SO that, forSOOth, he might gulp dOWn at Spinther, on account ... . . . . of her amours with once eight thousand pounds ; and how was Doiabeiia. he less mad than if he had thrown that same precious stone into a swiftly running stream, or the great sewer of the town? The sons of Quintus Arrius, those brothers of such 3 wondrous worth, true twins in trifling and 3 ironical. rascality, and love of all that's bad, were wont to buy up 4 nightingales at an enormous price. 4 The nightingale was And in which class should they be ranked? modern*" ortolan." Should they be marked with white, as sane, or black, as though insane? Again, all grown-up men, whom building baby-houses, yoking mice to go-carts, or the game of odd and even should delight, would be affected with insanity. If now philosophy shall prove that lawless love is still more childish e'en than this, and that it makes no difference if yOU Should 5 play at WOrkmp- in the dust 5 Pretending seriously J ° to build forts, and moats, as erst you played when three years old, or and castles. suffer anxious grief through fondness for a courtesan ; pray would you do what 6 Polemon 6 An effeminate and . luxurious Athenian reformed once did : would you give up those youth. implements of luxury, the shoe-socks, elbow cushions, comforters, as he is said, though drunk, to have by stealth torn off the 94 SATIRE III. BOOK II. i They wore them on * garlands from his neck, when he was repri- both the head and neck. 1 #• -i * i ••■ 2 Xenocrates. The manded bythe soberwords of the -philosopher? storv is that as he was _ . . . . . reeling drunk through When you reach fruit to children m a Athens, he heard Xeno- , .,. - ^ crates teaching phiio- pet, they will refuse. Suppose you say sophv close bv, and went . -*r a i f . -i XT t tom6ckhim,butwasuiti- to one, My 6 darling, take it: it says, No, I matelv convinced by his ,, ■ • -, r ', t ' '. arguments, and became WOn t, DUt Wishes for it, if yOU give it not J gjitea reformed cha- ^ ^ ^ ^^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ lover of a courtesan when shut S^SSSS? OUt from her house, Who asks re P r ? a ch and an- ger find noplace; himself if he shall go to or ™ hile that - of en " ° dearment is com- shall keep away from that place ™°* enough. . r With us the term whither he quite meant to go d °s is not used as an endearing again, though not sent for ; and one, even in such . & ' phrase as "Aha! clings close to the door that he youyoungdog!" _ . __„ although there is pretends to hate? What, shall I no anger in such not approach, says he, now she, unasked, invites? or should I rather think of ending all my pain? She shut me out, now calls me back ; what ? — should I go ? No, not if she implore me to. Hear now a slave much wiser than his lord : " My lord, a thing that knows no bounds or plan will not be treated by restraint and plan. In love there are these ills : war first, then peace; and if a man should try to fix upon some settled system for himself all this that is well-nigh as fickle as the weather, and rolls on as blind chance guides, he would effect no more than if he 4 Lovers used to place tried to act the madman with some plan and the moist seeds of fruit between the first fingers bounds, u hat ? — when you pluck the seeds of each hand, and jerk . . , _ . . . them out: if they hit the from 4 Picene apples, and feel joy if haply you ceiling, it was a lucky . .... « ••• -v ttt L , ^ omen. have hit the ceiling, are you sane ? What ? — SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 95 when you utter 1 lisping lovers' words with * t^ words are sup- J x o posed to be struck back aged mouth, how are you less mad than the by the roof of the mouth, 1 1 i_ 1 -, 9 * j j and the sound so weak - man who builds the baby-house? ''Add ened. bloodshed tO yOUr foolish love, and With a more heinous crimes as -. in -r» i i J i J i a wors t phase of mad- sword stir up the fire. Fray, when but lately ness. 3 Marius leapt off a rock, when he had struck ^f^^SS'^ down Hellas, was he frenzied, or will you f n e d n g[ le d hom he loved acquit the man of madness, and condemn him on the charge of crime, affixing, as men do, to things, 4 terms nearly similar? . 4 Called" ;w«:^" 07 J in the btoic teaching. There was a 5 freedman's son, an old man, 5 He now mentions the absurd superstition to who, though sober, — in the morning, — would which the lower orders ... were subject, and chooses with hands washed with religious care, run the freedman's son to _ . . . , fi ..... represent his class. up and down the streets, and pray like this : ■ Men who were going ,, _, - , , . to pray used to wash " Save me alone, and tis not much I ask, their hands. save me alone from death ; for surely it is easy for the gods." The man was sound enough in 7 ear and eye, although an owner ?/.*., in body. of a slave like him would, when he tried to used the words "sanus .. , . , . . , (est) corpore et animo " sell, not warrant him as sound m mind, he is sound in mind and unless he loved lawsuits. 8 Chrysippus classes s c'hrysippus, a great all these superstitious men as well among the t0ic p ° sop er * fruitful family of mad 9 Menenius. " O King 9 Menenius was a madman of the day, of heaven, who dost bring upon men and re- known to every one. move from them dread pain and sickness," cries the mother of a child that has been ill for full five months, " if but the ague leave my son, 10 upon the morning of the day on which jo a hint at the Jewish you may proclaim a fast, he shall stand naked bega/tob? Infetourat in the Tiber's stream." Suppose some chance J^ASKSSSSS or doctor's aid have raised the sick child in nvers ' from his deadly peril, then the crazy mother will stick him upon the chilly river's bank, 96 SATIRE III. — BOOK II. so bring the fever back, and prove his death, affected, pray, in mind with what disease ? Of course with superstition. This, then, the defence Stertinius, fit to 1 As wise as the ceie- be called the l eighth wise man, srave me, his brated seven wise men. ° . friend, so that I should not with impunity hereafter be attacked. The man who shall have called me mad shall be called so him- self as often, and shall learn to look at his 2 An allusion to ^Esop's own fault s that hang, as 2 ^Esop says, upon his fable, in which our .,.,., , neighbours' faults are in DaCK that he Can t See. a bag in front, our own ^ A c , • r , n •. in a bag behind. Horace. O Stoic, after all your loss, may you sell whatsoe'er you buy at more than 3 " Sic " implies this, what you gave, 3 but on condition that you tell me with what sort of folly you think I am mad, since there's more kind than one ? For I think I am sound in mind. 4 Argument : — One of Damasippus. What, when 4 Agave carried the chief characteristics . of madness is the igno- in her hands the head of her unlucky son, ranee of the fact of being _. _ , _ . mad. cut from the neck, did she herself think she Agave was the , ^ mother of Pentheus, king Was mad f that Bacchus W was a^od, Horace. Well, I admit that I'm a fool, let by hkmother^ho was m ^ allow the truth, and even mad; but only a Bacchanal. tell me clearly this : with what disease of mind you think me labouring. Damasippus. Then listen : — first you build ; 5 We use the phrase — I mean vou vie with 5 bi^er men, although " bigger men " for more J ' . wealthy. you are from top to toe scarce two feet high, He alludes to Horace's . Sabine villa, and, per- and yet you laugh at b I urbo s mien and gait haps, a portico he was . . building. when clad in arms, as too ambitious for so { '> Turbo was a dwarf .. _ . . . .it and gladiator. small a frame : though how are you the less ridiculous ? Pray, is it right that you as well should do whate'er your patron does, although SATIRE III. — BOOK II. 97 you are so different from him, XhaXyou, so low, should vie with him so high in rank ? The young ones of a frog, when by the old frog left, were trampled down by a calf s hoof, and when one had escaped, it told the dam how that a mighty beast had crushed its brother frogs. Then asked the dam, How great was it? and swelling out her skin, said, Surely it could not have been so great as this ? The young frog answered, Half as great again. Well, surely not so great ? then asked the dam. Then said the young one, You will never equal it, although you burst yourself. This simile is nearly suited to your case. Then add your scribbling verses, that is, feed the flames with oil : for if a single man be sane who writes, then you will be sane too. I mention not your 'dreadful temper. cartel * % ^ Horace. There now, stop. Damasippus. I speak not of your style of living that exceeds your means. Horace. Come, Damasippus, keep yourself to your affairs alone. Damasippus. Nor of your countless pas- sionate amours. Horace. O greater madman, prithee spare one who is not so mad as you. SATIRE IV.— BOOK II. This Satire is written with the purpose of separating men who made glut- tony their chief pleasure, from the true followers of Epicurus, one of which Horace himself professed to be to some extent. Catius Miltiades was a freedman of Catius Insuber, mentioned by Cicero, Ep. ad Famulos, 15, 16, I ; a writer on the art of cookery, and the laughing- stock of all Rome. He professes to have received, as if from an oracular shrine, some rules for gastronomy of paramount importance to life, and the satire is increased by the fact that most of Catius's rules run counter to received custom in eating and drinking. "Catius" is not the Horace. And whence comes Catius, and vocative, but implies — 7 "hie homo in quo Catium whither is he bound ? agnoscere nobis vide- mur." The ellipses are Catius. I cannot stay to talk : desirous as ' venit " and " tendit." 1 The mnemonic art was I am to fix connecting Memory links to some known to ancient orators and philosophers. new rules, so excellent that they surpass what Anytus, Meietus, and Socrates, Pythagoras, or learned Plato wrote. Lycon, were the accusers J ° of Socrates. Anytus was Horace. I know I'm wrong for interrupting a leather-dresser, who . . . had Long entertained a you at so inopportune a time, but prithee, personal enmity against . soc-ates, because he with your wonted kindness pardon me ; and blamed his avarice in . depriving his sons of the you 11 soon recollect the little you may now benefit of learning. _ . . , , . r . , forget, be that due to a natural or artificial As Catius sees that . ,_...-.... Horace does not want to power, for you are wonderfully gifted in both talk of anything else, he is glad to tell him the WayS. rules, and so to fix them ^ . . XT , on ins own memory. Latins. Nay, but my very purpose was to SATIRE IV. — BOOK II. 99 recollect them all as matters of a subtle sort, and told in subtle language too. Horace. Pray tell me the man's name ; and tell me too if he be Roman or a foreigner. Catius. The rules themselves I'll tell in philosophic style from memory ; their author's name shall be suppressed : — " Be sure and send to table l eggs of oval ? Eggs dways appeared 00 with the first course 01 a shape, for they have better flavour and are Roman dinner. whiter than the round, and oval ones are closer in consistence too, and keep unmixed the 2 male yolk they contain. The broccoli 2 Pliny/' Nat. Hist.," . • -m i • i r i i 10, 8 74, " Feminam that grows in well-drained fields is sweeter edunt, quse roumdiora than that is that 3 grows round Rome ; nought 55!" 1 Ur ' , 1 . 1 , 1 -, c j 3 Because of the many is more tasteless than the produce of a garden fishponds and streams. that's not drained enough. Suppose a guest has paid an unexpected visit at the close of day, to save the fowl from proving tough and disagreeable to taste, I will 4 instruct you 4"Doctuseris"=dbce- ., • -r, , • ,, • • bere or " docetor a me." now to souse it in .balerman: — this wine « Malum responsare " will make it tender. Truffles and mush- "piVfid e unwFdere/* wl or rooms from meadows are the best; one does " canere indoctum: " not well to trust in 5 other sorts. That man 5/.*, sl2 chas grow in will live a healthy life who after 6 lunch shall ^xi^piurar'prandia" eat ripe mulberries culled from the trees oTtheTabit of 'dofng so before the mid-day sun. 7 Aufidius did wrong d ^Aufidius was not to make the whet of honey mixed with ^SSto^Sk^S strong Falernian, since we should give the fattemn s peacocks, hungry stomach nought but what is mild; with milder mead one would far better whet the appetite. Suppose you want a pill, the mussel common shell-fish, and low-growing sorrel-plant, but mind, with some white Coan 100 SATIRE IV. — E00K II. wine, will set you right. The waxing moon fills out the slimy shell-fish with both juice and size, but few seas are productive of the richest kinds. The giant mussel from the Lucrine lake excels the Baian purple fish ; i circeii, a town of La- the oyster at ^irceii grows, sea-urchins near tium. Misenum, a town . ... in Campania. Misenum s cape ; Tarentum in wide-opening scallops prides itself. " And yet, not any one you please should rashly arrogate skill in the bon vivanfs art ere - Ji Rabo,"iphaosophi- he has tested well the subtle philosophic sys cal system, is purposely n , v • ,. ■ . r .» used because Catius tern flavours have, a or is t enough to be the thought gastronomy and r -\ rr r j r i i philosophy nearly syno- first to bear off from some dear fishmonger s nymous " shop the fish he has, although you do not know which fish sauce suits, and which, when fried, 3 The guests used to the sated 3 guest will soon begin again to eat. lean on the left elbow, . _ 111 and raise themselves The boar of L Ribna fed too upon the holm slightly as they dined, . . , . and when sated used oaks mast, Dends by its weight the large to recline on the cushion .... - . , , • • • j or pillow. round dishes of the man who shuns insipid meat ; for the Laurentine boar is bad to eat, coarse-fed on sedge and reeds. The vine 4 Because of the bitter- don't always give us 4 kids well fit for food. ness of its leayes : kids \ that feed in the lawns The connoisseur will try to find the shoulders and groyes are the best. ... „ of the hare that ever is with young. Ere my nice taste came in, none studied and found out the qualities of fish and fowl and season for their use. The skill of some produces nothing but new kinds of sweets. By no means is't enough to give one's whole atten- tion to one point, as though a man should carefully provide for this alone, I mean that his wine should be good, though careless with what sort of oil he dress his fish. If SATIRE IV. — BOOK II. IOI you shall place the l Massic wine beneath clear . \ The MassIc was » . . rich Campanian wine. skies, whatever thickness there may be, will be refined by the night breezes, and the bouquet that affects the head will leave the wine : but it is spoilt, and loses its full flavour if strained through a linen bag. The con- noisseur who mingles the 2 Surrentine wine 2 Surrentum, now Sor- rento, a maritime town with dregs of the Falernian, successfully col- of Campania. lects the sediment with pigeon's Qgg; for then the yolk sinks down, and rolls with it all foreign substances. Restore the sated zest for drink by fried prawns, and by Libyan snails, for 3 salad rises on the stomach that is „ 3 Really lettuce. The Romans used to eat salad bilious after wine: it rather needs to be with vinegar to diminish the power of the wine at refreshed and roused by ham or by smoked the end of their dinner ; J m but remember that the sausages ; nay, it would e'en prefer all highly satire often consists in , V,. , , \ , , J Catius's disregard of seasoned * dishes that are brought when acknowledged custom. , - -, . , ,,_„. 4 So Suetonius tells us steaming hot from filthy eating-house. Tis thatViteiiiususedtodo. well worth while to thoroughly find out the qualities of sauce, both simple and compound. The 5 simple kind is made up of sweet olive ■ The , sim P le sauce is 1 * olive oil, new wine, and oil, and 'twill be suitable to mingle this with tunny brine. The com- ° pound is the above with rich new wine and tunny brine; that same the additions mentioned. which the Byzantine salting-jars are strongly flavoured with. When this has been well blended with chopped herbs, and boiled, and stood to cool, and has been sprinkled with the saffron of Cilicia, 6 complete the compound 6 Literally, M add be- sides," the future being sauce with oil the berry of ' Venafran olives used imperatively. 7 Venafrum w as a city yields. in the extreme north of t —. T _. . . - . -. Campania. 14 The Picene apples are inferior to those of Tibur in their juice, and this I tell you, for they are superior in look. The grape 102 SATIRE IV. BOOK II. i Nothing is known of they call u Yenucula' will do for storing up the Venucula. The Alban ., - « , , , was a common in jars ; the Alban you would more correctly dry in smoke. 'Tis found that I first placed by every guest in clean small plates this Alban grape and apples, lees of wine and caviar, white pepper and black salt, well dusted o'er it with a sieve. It is a dreadful error to spend five-and-twenty pounds in the fish mart, and then to cramp the fish so used to room on much too small a dish. It causes great disgust, suppose a slave with hands made greasy as he licks the soup or sauce he stealthily secretes, has touched a cup; and so it does, suppose unpleasant sediment 2 Literally, how great? cling to the oft-used bowl for wine. 2 How understanding a replv denying the extent of the small the sum one has to spend on besoms, dinner-napkins, and sawdust ! and yet, if they be not provided, 'tis a flagrant instance of bad taste. Is't possible that you sweep tesse- • They had floors of late d floors 3 with dirty brooms, and cover p?e C ces of ° U whk°e rne and purple ottoman s with unwashed coverlets of mtsa^'anTatoofsmal! chintz? forgetting that, in such proportion as o^ua^Tof marble! theSe min0r thin S S C0St mUch leSS time and grooms wers. made monev t0 pr0 vide, their absence is more fairly censured than the lack of luxuries that nobles' boards alone can have the fortune to possess." Horace. Most learned Catius, appealed to by our friendship and the gods, remember that whithersoe'er you go. you take me to attend these lectures on good living ; for however accurately you may tell them all from memory, you will not as the oracle's SATIRE IV. — BOOK II. IO3 mouthpiece give such delight as the philo- sopher himself could give. Besides, there is the man's own look and mien, which, blest in having seen, you don't think much about, because you've had the lucky chance, but I feel 1 quite a strong desire to gain the power _ ia parody of Lucretius, of visiting those far-off sources of philosophy, accidie J fontes, nt 2q2e and getting golden rules for living happily. haurine.' SATIRE V.— BOOK II. This Satire contains, in a pretended dialogue between Ulysses and Teiresias, a blind soothsayer of Thebes, an invective against fortune- hunters, and a description of their various artifices. i That is, his sufferings Ulysses. Teiresias, besides what youVe *al- and safe return. _ ready told, at my request say by what arts * By shipwreck and and means I can regain the wealth 2 IVe lost ? Why do you laugh ? Teiresias. What ! is it possible that one so shrewd as you is not content with getting back to Ithaca, and seeing once again your hearth and home ? Ulysses. O thou who ever tellest truth to all, thou seest how stript and destitute I come back home according to thy prophecy, and by the suitors all my best wines have been plundered and my cattle killed ; and yet both birth and merit are more worthless than seaweed unless accompanied by means. Teiresias. Well, since, to speak plain truth, you shrink from poverty, just hear a brief description of the means by which you may grow rich. Suppose a thrush, or some espe- SATIRE V. — BOOK II. *°5 cial gift be made you, let it speedily be sent to that man's house, where gleams the splen- dour of a handsome fortune, if but owned by an old man. See that the rich man, who's more worthy of your worship than the household iFirstfruitsofthepro- . ,ii iiii i duce were offered to the gods, taste ere the household gods, your mel- household gods. low fruit, and all the produce of your well- tilled farm; and though the man shall be forsworn, ignoble, stained with brother's blood, a slave who ran away, 2 still don't refuse to 2 He might request the man to attend him when walk upon the left side as a guard if he he went out in public. The left side was con- Should ask yOU tO. sidered weaker, and more -it -i exposed to attack; hence UlySSeS. What! I Walk Side by Side tO the expression "tegere guard some dirty slave ! I ne'er demeaned myself like that at Troy, aye rivalling great Ajax or Achilles there. Teiresias. Then you'll be poor. Ulysses. 3 Well, I will bid my stout heart 3 a parody of line 18 in ' / J t Odyssey, u. bear this great disgrace, for erst I bore still greater ills. Now, prophet, tell at once whence I can quickly 4 gain this wealth, and 4 For the transitive use 1 r i 1 of "ruo" confer Plautus, heaps Of gold. « Rudens," 2, 6, 58, [' Ibi Teiresias. Indeed, I've told you, and now S^iuW^Vir^rGecTrgic tell again ; where'er you can, by cunning try Vuit^maie ' P mg^s°Te e - to get at old men's wills, and don't, if one or nse '" two shrewd fishes have escaped the cunning angler after nibbling off the bait, surrender hopes because thus tricked, or give up your profession. If a case of great or small importance shall at any time be tried in court \ whichever of the litigants shall be both rich and childless, though a rascal, though aggressive and unscrupulous he sum- 106 SATIRE V. BOOK II. mon into court a better man, go plead for him j despise the citizen who has a better reputation and more justice on his side, if he shall have a son or a prolific wife at home. Say, " Quintus," for example, or say, " Publius," — for ears refined do like a handle to the name, your merit has made me your friend. I know the law's uncertainty; I can plead cases; sooner shall whoe'er you please gouge out i Literally, "of a rotten my eyes than mock or cheat you of a ! penny nut," a proverbial ex- . ..... , . pression for a trifle. piece : — my object this, that you lose nought, nor be laughed at. Bid him go home, and take care of his precious self; become 2 The roughness of the his advocate yourself ; 2 persist and persevere, words, "Persta atque . . obdura," themselves im- though ^Alpine bards shall make the glowing ply the pertinacity. ., . . ... . ., 3 vide Sat., i., x., 3 6. dog-star cleave the lifeless statues, or well Marcus Furius Bibacu- ri , -, . - , . - . .. , .. ius. filled with greasy tripe, they shall describe absurd description of the wintry Alps bespattered o'er with hoary p^ whether l \x be mid- snow. Some one will with his elbow nudge summer or midwinter. ft bystanderj and say? Don ' t you observe his unremitting care, devotion to his friends, and active zeal ? Then shoals of tunnies will swim 4 Fathers who were in j your fishponds will increase. 4 Then, too, willing to support their . r . .. - . .. . , children used to take it any one shall have a weakly son whom he them up upon their knees, . 1.1 i 1 j j 1 • r • •• vhen lying on the has both acknowledged and is bringing up in ground; if not, they were ,-. « r i j*j i exposed. the possession of a splendid property; lest 9, 204, f< " Norfita me ge- a too plain attention to a man who has no S&>' ' sublatum5 wife should tell the world your views ; by pUes'^tem^eidS sedulous attention gently steal into the hope d^^rced h fromtr. orwas ° f bein g left a legacy \ so that your name may be insciibed as next heir in his will; and that, if any lucky accident have proved the young man's death, you then may step SATIRE V. — BOOK II. IO7 into his shoes. This venture seldom fails. Be sure that you refuse, and put away from you the documents of any man who shall have handed you his will to read ; but yet in such a way, that by a side look you may quickly catch the meaning of the second clause on the first page. With swift glance read and see if you alone be heir, or co-heir with some more. Ofttimes a man who has turned clerk instead of member of the * " Board of Five ' The quinqueviri were a board 01 five for any Commissioners," will cheat the 2 eager raven, official function of an or- ' ° 7 dinary nature. and the fortune-hunter, like Nasica, will be . ? As happened lately is implied. laughed at by 3 CoranUS. 3 A wealthy man at Ulysses. Are you mad, or do you mock me purposely, by prophesying riddles such as these ? Teiresias. Son of Laertes, whatsoever I shall say 4 will either happen or will not, just 4 Horace may pur- J • rr 7 J posely make the phrase as I say : for surely great Apollo grants me ambiguous to show a . . / J ° r ° disbelief m the art of divination's art. soothsaying. Ulysses. Yet still pray tell me, if you may, the meaning of your words. Teiresias. What time a 5 youthful warrior, , 5 r A "juvenis" might ' 7 be forty years of age, ana the dread of Parthians, a scion sprung from ha y e established a repu- A ° tation as a warrior. great ^Eneas' stock, shall be renowned by Augustus is meant. sea and land, the 6 stately daughter of Nasica, 6 The epithets "state- who so hates to pay his debts in 7 full, will b^th ironical. rave marry brave Coranus, who will act like this t i re sum hrh^boVrowTd" when son-in-law ; he'll to 8 Nasica give his will ^S u y s ; fat her-in- and say, " Pray read ;" but he will oft refuse, law ' and then at last will take it, and will find no legacy, but 9 ruin for himself and friends. 9 "Piorare/'theflW^ rr-M c , -j . _ . entendre, is to weep, and 1 his further rule I give. Suppose, as possibly to go and be hanged. 108 SATIRE V. BOOK II. may be, a mistress, or a freedman should be ruling some old dotard; join their partner- ship yourself, praise them, that when away you also may be praised; this, too, does good, 1 To take the old man although 'tis far the * best to storm the citadel by storm, as it were, .•.-•« . • through flattery. itself. -Suppose some man insanely write - The student should , , . ai r> observe the free use of bad verses \ praise them well. Suppose, too, tenses and moods for a y , r , r . . , , supposed case in Horace, he be fond of women \ see that he dont have to ask you; but unasked and readily give your chaste wife to him — so much to be preferred. Ulysses. Do you think that can be ? Will one so modest, so discreet a woman, whom the suitors could not turn from virtue's paths, be able to be thus seduced ? Teiresias. Yes, for the youthful band that courted her came, very sparing in rich gifts, bent not so much on love as on the cup- board's stores. Your wife is chaste thus far, but if she once have learnt an aged lover's ways, and shared the gain with you, she never will be kept from it, no more than dogs from a fat skin. In my old age this circumstance 3 A story probably taken OCCUITed, which I will tell VOU of. 3 At ThebeS from some farce or popu- . larjest. a shameless woman was thus carried to her grave according to her will ; her heir bore on his naked shoulders her dead body plen- tifully greased with oil, to see, no doubt, if 4 in which case the heir she could 4 slip away from him when dead; hentance? 6 "" and this, I think, because he had stuck too close to her while alive. Be wary in your first approach ; don't be remiss, nor yet attentive to excess. A prater will disgust a peevish SATIRE V. BOOK II. IO9 and morose old man. You should not even hold your peace unasked. Act like the l slave J^™^? general in comedy; stand with your head bent 2 stiffly ^WffiZJSSZ down, like one most terribly afraid. Approach block - him with complacent care ; advise him, if the air blow fresh, to cautiously wrap up his pre- cious head ; relieve him of the crowd by thrusting them aside ; lend an attentive ear whene'er he cares to talk. Suppose he loves incessant praise ; then ply him, till with hands upraised to heaven he cry, O stay ! enough ! and swell his rising pride with fulsome flattery. When he has freed you from 3 protracted slavery 3 That is, by his death, and care, and wide awake, you shall have heard this, — " Let Ulysses have a fourth of the estate ;" say now and then, " So ! is my com- rade Dama now no more? * Whence shall I * confer Sat. ii 7 7, r i r - i i -x » i -r II6 - There is an ellipsis find a friend so brave, so true? and if you of"petam"or"parabo." , . , - ,. , . , " Illacrimare" is the im- can a little, weep ; you may well hiae your perative of the deponent face, that will betray the joy you feel. ve s Est = licet. Erect his tomb, that's left to your decision, with no niggard 6 hand : the neighbours would 6 {•/•« let j tbe ma( Je of 00 , . marble, and carved in commend a splendidly appointed funeral, basso-reiieyo, and have an inscription. Suppose, as possibly may be, one of your fellow-heirs, now growing old, shall have a 7 "Nummus" and "nummus sestertius" nasty cough, then say to him, if he should were used to express . 1 t « trifling value. Confer care to buy a farm or house belonging to cic. pro Rab., Post., your share, " I sell it 7 you for anything you 7 p r oserpine is often de- 1-1 n -r% , • 1 , t-> • j scribed as sending and like. But mighty Proserpine drags me away, removing spirits. Confer Ivr r 11 Homer, "Odyss.," ii., ,ong life, farewell. a2 6, 6 3 i, et seg. SATIRE VI.— BOOK II. Horace had especially desired to be able to escape all business and care that prevented him from living as a philosopher should live, and, although he was partly able now to do so through his patron's gift, the Sabine villa and farm, yet he could not do so as often as he wished. This Satire, then, is written in praise of a country life, and against those who were either jealous of him, or incessantly importuned him to further their pretensions to poetic merit. One of my wishes once was this : a plot of land of ordinary size, and that there should be there a garden, and a stream of running water, and a little wood besides. The gods have been more generous and kind e'en than I wished. Tis well. I ask i Maia's son. Maia for nothing further, l Mercury, than that you was the mother of Mer- . . cury, and Jupiter the make these blessings mine for life. father. Mercury pre- . sided ov,-r <»pcn gains Since I have not increased my means by and business, Hercules . r ... . . .. , over secret treasures: perjury or forging wills, and am not likely to sec last line of the page. ,. . . , ,, , , . -,, , dimmish them by luxury, or idleness and want of care : since I don't utter foolish prayers like these : " O if that little nook would join my farm, which now so spoils its form ! O that some lucky chance would show to me a SATIRE VI. — BOOK II. Ill money-jar as erst to him who, with the trea- sure he had found, bought the same field he ploughed before as a day labourer, grown rich by Hercules' kind help !" — since what I have delights me grateful for the same, this is the prayer I now address to you : — - weigh down i The word "pmgue" . , r , 1 r ir i - means heavy with fat as with fat the cattle for myself, their owner, applied to the cattle, , ,, , T , . , , , , and heavy and coarse and all else I have with produce, but do as applied to the mind. . , , . , , Cetera = fields, mea- not weigh down my genius, and as you re dows, crops. wont, still be my strongest guard. Well, then, when I've withdrawn me from the city to my cottage on the hills, what 2 better theme could I then find for these my 2 /.*.-, than the country, satires and plain style ? There, nor the placeman's baneful race for pow'r, nor the dispiriting sirocco, nor the autumn's pestilence that brings the 3 cruel 3 An Italian goddess of j ,, , , . , funerals, called Libitina, death-goddess such gam, destroys my peace, in whose temple was O. T_ t_ • i T deposited for every fu- thOU Whom We invoke at morn, Or J anUS, neral a piece of money, if thou dost prefer the name, through whom bnged'to^the appoint- man regulates the day's first toils life's busi- kept! ° f Wrals was ness brings, for so the gods have willed, be thou my theme's exordium. At Rome you hurry me to bail some one. You say, Come, up, away, lest some one should oblige by some such courtesy before yourself. Although north , 4 J. h f sun , has mucl ? J J o less distance to go round winds blow fiercely o'er the earth, or winter {n the winte f' and th ? d *y J is supposed to be lnflu- 4 slowly drags along the snowy days upon en , c f d b y the sluggish J ° ° . cold and torpidity the their narrowed course, you still must go. season brings. ° 5 Some legal phrase, Then after that, when I have uttered such as the phrase from . - . Seneca, " Quocunque clearly and distinctly words that may bring audivi, certa ciaraque . . affero." He would lose me some harm, I have to struggle in the the bail if the defendant crowd, and roughly jostle loiterers. With be. not appear ' ^ mig t 112 SATIRE VI. — BOOK II. angry curses some one shamelessly assails me thus : — What want you, madman ? What are you about ? You'd knock down all that barred your way, if you were speeding back to see your patron, thinking of nought else but him. This is delightful, this is sweet as honey, I'll confess. But still the moment that I've reached the gloomy Esquiline, i Centum = sexcenta, then > endless business that does not be- ooo, the usual indefinite number with the Romans. i ng to me annoys and hems me in, and 2 He says this to him- thus I think : — 2 " You know that Roscius implored you to appear to give him evidence 3 The Puteai was so to-morrow at the 3 praetor's court ere seven bknce tothe mon^oTa o'clock. And, Quintus, the official clerks Scribonius'Lfbo. ul y prayed that you would remember to return Afte^the 155 battle *of to-day to see about a matter of unlooked-for pSe 1, sec?e ta a ry e to *a and great public interest." And, asks another, poS°to b h U ave he soid S "he tak e care that your patron stamp these 4 docu- ° ffi 4 C peX n ps a astate letter mentS with his 0Wn SeaL Suppose yOU Say, which Te mm Emp a er or; " r11 tr 7 I " " Y ° U Can >" he anSWCTS, " if yOU P ^(MScenas)^ned: ^ ^ ™ P OrtuneS yOU. It is nearly eight years now since first Maecenas looked on me as one of his own friends, but only thus far as to think me one whom he might care to take up in his carriage when he went upon a journey, and to whom he would entrust such trifles 5 As once the question, as, — " How goes the time?" or, — 5 "Can the "Will Heenan beat Tom ' & * . Bayers?" gladiator Syrus, think you, beat Gallma ? " or, The epithet Thrax or . . Threx means gladiator. — " The chill November morning air takes hold of those who do not wrap up well," — and such remarks as well may be committed to the ears of those who talk of all they SATIRE VI. — BOOK II. 113 hear. Through all this time, from day to day (to use the people's words), ' our friend was 1 Noster is humorously 11 y put for *' ego. Confer more exposed tO jealousy. If he, together German, unser Mann; J ° the common people with Maecenas, had gone to the theatre, or called him this. played at tennis with him on the plain of Mars, all cried alike, O fortune's favourite ! Suppose some sinister report spread from the 2 Rostra through the streets, all those who 2 The "Rostra" was a ... stage for speakers, and meet me question thus : — Dear sir, I ask the space around it, in r -i'-ii the Forum, was adorned you, for you must know, since you have the with the beaks of con- ear of government, — Have you heard aught quere s ipb ' about the 3 Dacians? Not I, indeed, say I. 3 War was going on with these allies of Mark Then they reply, Ah ! how satirical you Antony. always like to be ! When I rejoin : May heaven destroy me if I've heard a word; — another says, How now ? Pray does Augustus mean to give his army land he promised them in 4 Sicily or Italy ? Then if I vow that I don't 4 Sicily is called " th- quetra " from its trian- know at all, all wonder at me as a man of guiar shape. The divi- sion of land referred to quite unique reserve that none can penetrate, is that that took place in . . . . , i r tne middle of the winter And so unhappily I lose the day, and oft afterthebattieofActium. , ,, . -, ,, -^ . when the Emperor went repeat these longing words, — "Dear country, to Bnmdusium to quell when shall I see thee again?" When shall amutinyo I be allowed to drink in sweet forgetfulness all life's cares, sometimes by reading ancient lore, sometimes by the " siesta," by the u do Ice far niente" too? When 5 will that. 5 This is pleasantly ironical, intimating that common bean that old Pythagoras believed although people gene- . rally might despise such akin to him, and with it, cabbages well plain food, yet Pytha- . , .. . 1 , r goras, the great philoso- dressed with greasy bacon, be served up for P her, did not. There is _ . , . , . , , also an allusion to the me ? Ah me ! those evenings and those idea of Pythagoras j. r. r j i'i r * j 3 which supposed the vital dinners, fit for gods, at which my friends and principle of his father or I, • -i r i. 1.1 ? some other relative to be eat in the presence of my own hearth s i n a bean. 114 SATIRE VI. — BOOK II. gods, and feed my merry pert slaves born at home with dishes that we've feasted first upon. Each guest, just as he fancies, freed from foolish laws, drains glasses of unequal size, though one with stronger head takes potent draughts, another sooner feels the gladdening influence with weaker ones. And so it is that conversation is struck up, but not about our neighbours' country seats or houses, nor about the dancing of Rome's hJ*&Z2£3&&, 'ballet-masters, but we then discuss what m favour with the Em- muc ] 1 m0 re nearly interests ourselves, and peror. J ' what to know not brings us harm : we learn by argument if men be happy through their wealth or virtues, what attracts us to form friendships, — interest, or principle ; what is the nature of the abstract good, and what the greatest good ? Meantime my neighbour Cervius will tell us witty nursery tales, well suited to the point. For if one ignorantly kno^^oSor Trdiiul! P raise the ' miser's wealth that breeds anxiety, butthathewasanavari- he thus begins : — Now once upon a time 'tis cious neighDour. ° t said a country mouse did entertain a city mouse in its poor hole, a well-known guest a well-known friend ; industrious and thrifty of its stores, the country mouse : — but still in such a way as to sometimes relax its anxious mind for hospitality. In brief, it neither grudged the stored chick-pea, nor oat with its long husk ; it carried in its mouth a raisin and half-eaten bits of bacon, and then gave them to its guest because it wished, by varying the food, to conquer the disgust SATIRE VI. — BOOK II. 115 showed by the guest, who scarcely touched each tit-bit with its haughty teeth, although the host himself ate spelt and tares, and left his guest the richer food. At length the 1 city mouse spoke thus: said he, "Dear i The city mouse re- . . presents the Epicurean friend, what joy is it to live so hard a life philosopher. upon the mountain ridge with its rough grove of trees ? Can you prefer a town's society to the wild woods ? Come, start, take my ad- vice, and 2:0 with me, since creatures 2 earthly 2 Perhaps a parody o 07 J Euripides, Alcestis, 782, all possess by lot but transitory lives, and since and following few lines, there's no escape from death for great or small : — because of this, I say, dear friend, while you've the chance, live happy in a pleasant state, and well remember how short- lived you are." When words like these pre- vailed upon the country mouse, he nimbly leapt forth from his hole, and then they both began their purposed way, because they wished to steal beneath the city walls by night. And now, as 3 sin2rs the epic bard, ,. 3 A parody of an epic & . . lme > as in Sat., I., v., 9. " the veil of midnight hid the sky " — when both set foot in some rich noble's home, where fabrics dyed with scarlet threw a bril- liant lustre over ottomans of ivory, and many courses were left from a banquet held the day before, and were in baskets piled up near to them. Well, when the host had made the country mouse recline at length upon a purple rug, he ran about like girt- up slave, brought in the 4 courses one by one, 4 "Contiwuat" — im- . . plies that he took care as Servants WOUld and did the waiting Well, there should be no break r • i»ii-i 1 r™ m the service. first tasting every dish he brought. The Il6 SATIRE VI. — BOOK II. country mouse reclining there, exulted in his change of lot, and played the boon com- panion in his happy state ; Avhen suddenly a dreadful creaking of some folding-doors made both leap from their seats; in fear they rushed through all the chamber, and half dead with fright made more hot haste, di- rectly that the house with its high roofs rang with the mastiffs' barks. Of course the country Then said the country mouse, I want not mouse said this after they ..-.., ,. jr j n i had found shelter in the life like this, and fare thee well; my wood usual crevice into which j i i r ' ±. ■ r i the city mouse retired in and hole, sale as it is from treacnerous surprise, will solace me with humble tares for food. SATIRE VII.— BOOK II. In this Satire Horace, by the mouth of a slave taking advantage of the licence allowed at the Saturnalia — a feast of three days' duration, from the 17th to the 20th of December, to commemorate the good old times when all men were nearly equal — represents the foolish Stoic philosophy of Cris- pinus. He also wittily describes the character and disposition of slaves. He probably also aims a side-blow at the habit then so universal in Rome as almost to include slaves, of trying to get a smattering of philosophy. He also shows that men who are devoted to pleasure or luxury, carried away by excessive eagerness in any pursuit, misers or flatterers, are just as much slaves as those who are called so by name. Davits, ^'ve been long waiting for an oppor- ^SSK^SiSS tunity, and though I wish so much to say a few Horace, he hesitates to + ' ° J make free use at first of words to you, feel afraid because I am a slave. a *«* ^} so rarel y J 1 occurred in the perpetual Horace Is't DaVUS ? war between master and slave. Davits. Yes. 'tis Davus, and he is a ser- vant faithful to his master, honest, too, as far as is required, — that is, 2 he's not too good to 2 Like our proverbial phrase, "That child is live. too good to live." Horace. Come, then, since so our ancestors decided, take the licence that December gives, speak on. Davus. Some men do glory in their vices with consistency, and have a settled plan \ Il8 SATIRE VII. — BOOK II. 1 "Natat"=huc iiiuc but many more are changeable, adopting now what's right, now guilty of what's wrong. -Priscus, as the context One 2 Priscus, often seen to have three rings shows, was a man of sen- atorial rank, but nothing UpOIl his fingers, often none at all, lived so more is known. . irregularly that one moment he would wear 3 Senators wore a broad the 3 senator's broad stripe, another that the stripe on their tunics, .. . , knights a narrow one. knights all wear. He d leave some princely worn on 'thTieff hand. y mansion where he dwelt, and suddenly hide in some hut from which a freedman of the better class could scarcely come out decently. He'd choose to live now as a rake at Rome, anon as a philosopher at Athens, born sub- 4TheangerofVertum- jected to the ire of all the 4 gods of change nus was supposed to be manifested by the there are. changes he went through. . • - i i i • i -i i 5 Nothing further is Again, a certain ° dandy hired for daily wage, known of Volanerius. . . . . . . . . and kept a man to take the dice up from the board for him, and throw them in the box, when now the gout, he so deserved, struck all his finger-joints, and in proportion as he kept consistently to that same vice he was less wretched and less culpable than he, who, e That is, one who at 6 like a sailor, works with now too taut, and one time lives carelessly and loosely, at another nOW tOO slack a rope. over-strictly. _ . "Slaves were often pun- Horace. You 7 rascal, will you not at once khed by wearing a frame .. . . . r .. . . of wood round theimecks tell me the bearing of all this stale trash? like a V or Greek A. y-^. Tjl , . - T JJavus. It bears upon yourself, I say. Horace. How so, you scoundrel? Davus. Why, you praise the happiness and character the people of old times possessed, and yet, if any god were to compel you to adopt their life, you would persistently refuse, because you either do not really think that what you talk so loud about is better, or SATIRE VII. — BOOK II. II9 because you are but a weak champion of right, and are entangled in the wrong, and vainly wish to draw your feet out of the moral mire. At Rome you long for country life ; when in the country, fickle as you are, you praise up to the skies the town you've left. Suppose, as possibly may be, you are not asked to dine with any one, you laud your humble food so free from care, and just as though you went to see men, like a criminal to gaol, you vow you're fortunate, and gratify your self-love with the J thought 1 whereas he really , . ii-i gladly accepted all invi- that you have not to go and drink at some tations. friend's house. But if your patron have, quite as an after-thought, invited you to come and see him at nightfall, with loud shouts then you cry — " Is no one going to quickly bring the 2 lantern-oil? Does any one attend ?" — and 2 The Romans used , , - . n t r r mi small hand lanterns at rush about, as though you fled from foe. 1 he night. 3 parasites and Mulvius curse you in language J Thus cheated of the 1 j <-> \ii tat^m), together with the ne er could free from miserable fears? Add slave, appeared before the this besides, that bears upon the case no less struck ISJ^Jim witiTa than what I've said, (for whether he who 5$£ Sdp™: executes another slave's commands be called TSeckre^hat th!Tm£ an under slave, as you are wont to say, or £ f ~ e n %?%££ fellow-slave as we declare), pray what am I ^S^J^^SC^ to you? In truth you, who rule me, are 3£^u5? frSf'ilt hS but 4 another's wretched slave, and like the be fre ^, ?, nd s° whither 7 you will. wooden 5 puppet you are moved by strings *{/»afdiow-siave. r rr J J o 5 Modern "manon- another pulls. ettes." Horace. Who then is free ? Daims. Why, the philsopher who rules him- self, whom neither poverty, nor death, nor 6 Like Cicero's " hu- 1 J manarum rerum con- chains alarm, who can courageously check temptio," which should ° . not be translated " con- his desires, and G fairly estimate the world's dis- tempt for," as it means a proper or not undue ap- tinctions, one dependent on himself alone, as preciation of anything. 122 SATIRE VII. — BOOK II. i The ancients thought perfect as a ' sphere, so that no outward matter fecTshlpe! e m0:>t per " can rest on the polished surface, one whom fortune aye attacks with crippled might. Pray can you in all this find aught that suits your case? Again, some woman asks you - Really,^ i, 21S 15s. for 'twelve hundred pounds or more, annoys you, drives you from the door, and drenches you completely with cold water, then she calls you back again ; come, free your neck from this disgraceful yoke ; come, say, I'm free ! yes, free ! You cannot ; for a harsh taskmaster rules your mind, and plies you with the spur, though weary, and constrains you e'en against your will. Pray, how are you, you madman, when you gaze with 3 Pausias was a cele- rapt attention on a picture 3 Pausias once brated child's portrait- . . painter of Sicyon, b.c. painted, less in fault than I am when I gaze ° -iVuivus, Rutuba,and with admiration at the battles of our 4 gladia- Pacideianus, were gla- ..... . „ . . diators tors with their legs thrown well in front, de- •V.*., however roughly picted in red 5 chalk or even charcoal, when, done. though they actually fought, the combatants move to and fro their weapons, and give thrusts and parry them ? In such a case the slave is called a rascal and a loiterer; but you, a critic shrewd, — a connoisseur of ancient works of art. I'm thought a worth- less wretch when I'm attracted by a smoking sacrificial cake ; and does your wondrous virtue, your high soul resist the pleasures a rich banquet gives? Why does this fondness for good living work more harm to me than you ? Because I get a beating. And pray how do you deserve less punishment in SATIRE VII. — BOOK II. I 23 trying to obtain rich dainties that cannot be gained at little cost? And certainly the banquet's joys, indulged in to excess, pall on the taste ; and the unsteady foot will not bear the distempered frame. What? — does the slave do wrong who at nightfall exchanges for a bunch of grapes a l scraper from the i They used skin- scrapers in bathing, made baths? and does not he act like a slave who of hom or metal. sells estates to gratify his gluttony? Then, too, you cannot be consistent for a moment, or arrange your leisure as you should; you shun your thoughts, you're like a runaway and vagabond, now trying to remove your care by wine and now by sleep ; but all in vain, for close upon your heels the black companion presses, and pursues you as you flee. Horace. Whence can I get a stone? Davus. Where is the need ? Horace. Whence arrows? Davus. 2 Surely he is mad, or he writes 2 Davus humorously nnprrv suggests that there is r ucu ;* another fit of poetic Horace. If you don't take yourself away at £££ aSX! coT" once, you'll join the eight who work now in JESSC "efSp?" my Sabine farm. beating as before. SATIRE VIII.— BOOK II. Xasidienus, a rich parvenu, gave a banquet, at which Maecenas, and Fundanius, a celebrated comic poet, were present. Horace gives a humorous and satirical account of it by the mouth of Fundanius. He describes the ambitious attempts of Xasidienus to impress his guests, and Maecenas especially, with his great wealth, and also his good taste. The character of Xasidienus throughout is that of a man who shows meanness in his attempt to be lavish, pride in his humility ; he is absurd and wearisome in his vain efforts to affect the well-bred gentleman, and utterly devoid of refinement and sensibility. The Arrangement of the Dinner-Table. Iinus locus, or Co?is7cla?-is. Mediits. Bottom place. Middle place. Summits. Top place. Mjnckkas. II. Vibidius. III. Servilius Balatro. Medius lectus. — Middle couch. § : 5S ■ 2 < — z u; z 2 2 ■ _ 2 I < . ■ If S -^ III. P0*l IU8, Meusa. — Table. < > _^ C > (A K ^ »* X < •^ v> n 1 2 H cio j. G •o n o c 2 c __ 2 G QB E." t* The guests did not sit at table, but reclined on the couches. SATIRE VIII. BOOK II. 1 25 Horace. How did the wealthy \ Nasi- ] NasTdienjs is P ro- J nouncedasif JNasidjenus. dienus' banquet please you ? And I ask, H e was probably a far- x x J # ... mer °f the public reve- because when I was thinking of inviting nues, and wanted some aid from Maecenas. you, I was informed that yesterday you This use of "ut" (line . i)in direct narration be- had been drinking there since noon. longs more to colloquial Fundanius. So well, that I have ne'er it was bad taste to be- - , r , . ,. .. r gin before three o'clock, enjoyed myself so much in all my life. as the usual time for the -r-r -T-. , ,, 9 . r , . . Roman dinner was not at Horace. Pray tell nne,if you veno objection, a ii before that hour. i r 1 •. -v 2 So Cicero ad Atticum, what course first appeased your eager appetite? i 3 , 42) l, « si grave non Fundanius. First, a Lucanian wild boar cau^Y" 1 sare ' qui was served:— 3 'twas captured, as our host th f l^^bl^t t kept telling us, when gentle south winds ^ffS^of 1 ^ blew; around the table were placed turnips, ** f^h^arSar de- lettuces, and radishes, and all that stimulates ifF^f^lli^tZ^ 7? an instance 01 bad taste. the failing appetite, as 4 parsnios, fish-brine, , ™* hoar A was reall y oil r ■ sr 1 7 tainted, and was served lees of Coan wine. When this course had u p ^ the ™ mero , u . s vegetables and condi- been cleared away, and when one slave in m l nt T s t0 co »ceai the fact. J 7 4 It was bad taste to 5 shortest tunic clad had wiped the table, bring these on so early. x * 5 It was bad taste for though made but of 6 maple-wood, with purple the sla y es to have su ch # , unusually short dresses. woollen duster, with the nap still on, and 6 Not to have had a table of citron-wood, or when 7 another had collected all the useless one inlaid richly, showed Nasidienus' meanness. fragments left, and all that might disgust the J a slave called the guests, a 8 swarthy Indian comes slowly forth s There is great humour . . _, - . .... in the contrast between with Caecuban wine on a tray, and Alcon the haste and over -atten- . , . ^,., • • q i • •, tion shown by the slave with sweet Lhian wine y not mixed with who dusted the table and water from the sea, both slowly walking like sioVmovenfems^of the the Attic maids with Ceres' sacred baskets c Tt wafa token of on their heads. "Here," says the host, ^^"dUnX^ "Maecenas, if the w Alban wine or the Fa- J™7 r A£Zl lemian suit your taste better than those on S^^omted the table, we have both. ^r^JET- Horace. O wretched wealth ! But still, J °Na S Khenus shows his ' meanness by only putting Fundanius, I long to know the names f oneItalianandoneGreek 126 SATIRE VIII. — BOOK II. \vine on the table instead those who dined With VOU, when VOU Were of offering his guests Fa- lernian and Lesbian too ; treated SO * delightfully ? and he showed his osten- . . _ _ ration by mentioning his fUlldiVllUS. \\ ell, I was ID the first place Oil possession of what he . did not offer. the highest couch, and next to me * lhurmus i ironical. ^ Viscus was, and Varius by him. if I remember 2 Of Thuriae, a town . . .... . . in Calabria— he was not right ; then on the middle couch, the top the "Vkd" friends of seat was filled by Servilius Balatro ; Vibidius °™ ce ' c , T „ was in the next, and both of them Maecenas, Yarius, Sat., I., v., 40. » ' Pronounced Semh-us. who was in the bottom seat, had brought as Vibidius was unknown. T - a1 r ...i i extra guests. L pon the top seat of the lowest couch was Nomentanus, then the host him- a Porous was like Na- self; and on the bottom seat was ^Porcius, sidienus, a farmer of the , .. . public revenues, and who made himself absurd by gulping down very likely toadied him. . . , ' whole cakes at once. But .Nomentanus namld thu^— ^ "^ ^ Ut ^ WaS t0 P 0Ult W ^ tn n ^ S * ^ rSt mi g er t0 poiiex, thumb. whatever mi°;ht escape the notice of the index, 1 st tmger. *-" famosus, medius, infa- auests : for we, I mean the ordinary quests, mis, 2nd finger. to . ' 7 B i medicus, 3 rd, ring dined upon fish and game, and shell-fish finger. minimus, 4th finger. that contained in them a hidden flavour, far unlike the usual one ; indeed, his busi- ness was at once quite evident, directly he had handed me the entrails of a plaice and turbot, which I ne'er had tasted until then. He next informed me that the honey-apple i/.A, I cannot pre- was the ruddiest if gathered when the moon tend to his deep know- ^ ledge of natural truth. was on the wane. 5 What difference it makes, e Parody of -±.n., 11., 670- said he, the host himself will better tell vou. 7 Literally, the pale- ... . ness began to change the Hereupon Vibidius exclaimed to Balatro, If face of our state pur- . veyor. There may be we don t drink so that he feel the cost, " we some irony in the use of . . . this word "parochus." shall, as \ irgil says,"die b unavenged; and so 8 The real reason, his . .. . - . . _ parsimony, is ironically he called for larger glasses. ' Pale became our withheld by Fundanius, • , r rir i 1 ■ n who suggests the reasons entertainer s face, lor he feared nothing like rl^pieneLa^dfu^n"^ hard drinkers, 8 and no doubt because they SATIRE VIII. — BOOK II. I27 slander one too freely, or — because strong 1 ironical. wines quite deaden all nice sense of taste. Vibidius and Balatro pour into 2 glasses of 2 Cups made at a pot- . . tery in Allifse, a Samnite the largest size whole bottles at a time, and town. so did all the rest except the guests who were reclining on the lowest couch, 3 for they drank 3 Literally, did no harm ° ^ . to the flagons. sparingly enough. Next was brought in a Nomentanus and Porcius were parasites, lamprey sprawling on too small a dish, and and were afraid of 1 . . in i*i offending Nasidienus, served with prawns that floated m the sauce, who was himself afraid Then said the host, "'Twas caught when full ° of spawn, for had it spawned, 4 its flavour, 4 Literally, it would be likely to be worse would have been inferior. The sauce is after spawning in respect of its flesh. made of these ingredients : the oil that first was squeezed from the 5 Venafran press ; then . 5 i.e., from Venafrum, . . in Campania. The oil caviar made from the juices of the Spanish that ran first from the ' press would be the best. 6 mackerel; then wine that's five years old, 6 From Karthage in while it is boiling, but a wine of Italy • when it has boiled, the Chian wine suits better than all others ; then white pepper and the vinegar that has fermented 7 Lesbos' grape." 7 Methymna was a town in Lesbos. I first showed men the way to cook green colewort, and the pungent 8 elecampane, but s Elecampane was used ^ ... , r . by eastern nations as a Curtillus was an CurtlllUS Was the first tO teach cordial, and rarely in unknown gour- medicine as a stomachic. mand. us how to cook sea-urchms with the brine upon them, as the 9 liquor that 9 The construction is this Shell-fish Of the Sea itself Supplies is marina remWit^echfnus better than the pickle that is 10 sold. Mean- KStfeifttSS time the u curtains hung to catch the dirt, ^ijtSSSSr. down from the ceiling fell with dreadful crash CU "J>* ££££ | e n f r upon the 12 dish, and dragged with them more ^ ngs t0 catch the black dust than the north wind raises in . 12 Where the P^cious lamprey was. Campania. We gathered courage when we found there was no danger, though we had 128 SATIRE VIII. — BOOK II. expected that the house itself would fall. cane N d a Rufur s ™* *° Then l Rufiis, with his head cast down, began to weep, as if a son had come to an untimely death. What would have been the end, had not, with philosophic wisdom, Nomentanus thus restored his friend ? — u O Fortune, what divinity so cruel against us as thou ? What joy to thee 'tis ever to frustrate the plans of men ! " Here Varius could scarce suppress his laughter with a napkin stuffed well in his mouth. But Balatro, with cynical disdain 2 Addressed to Nasi- at everything, kept saying, 2u Such is life," and so you see it is that your repute will never 3 This is the infinitive t a lly w ith the toil you undergo. — 3 To think of indignation, as in ba- J . tire ix. of the ist book, that you should be distressed and tortured line 72, " Huncine solem J tam nigrum surrexe with all sorts of anxious cares, that I may be mihi ! " Under cover of th.s pretended consoia- magnificently entertained, that no burnt tion, there lurks an ironical enumeration of bread, or badly seasoned sauce may be served most of Nasidienus' mis- . .., . , . . takes. up ; to see that all the slaves are trim and neatly dressed to wait on us ! — Include, besides, the possible mischance of hangings falling down, as but just now; the chance, 4 So in "Mistakes of a too, that some 4 groom called in to wait Night" a groom waits at . table. Nasidienus tried should slip and break a dish, but yet mis- of servants by calling in fortune will bring forth to view the talents of even the groom, who, . r i -n i awkwardly attempting to a host as of a general, as will success conceal clear away the curtains, , T XT • i< ,, A r catches his foot in them, the same. In answer Nasidienus says, May maling^he'eviuvorse^' heaven grant you all the blessings you may ask ! You are so kind a man, so courteous 5 The guests put on a pr Ue st !" and then he for his 5 slippers calls their suppers when they ° L l left the " triclinium." anc [ r i ses to go out. Then on each couch .sasidienus meant to go ° and see if he could not y 0U might observe the whisper buzzing se- repair his disasters. . . cretly in this, and now in that guest's ear. SATIRE VIII. — BOOK II. 1 29 Horace. I'd rather see what you describe than any public games ; but tell me, prithee, what you next laughed at. Fundanius. Well, while Vibidius says to the slaves — " Are the decanters broken too, as wine is not brought when I ask ? " — and whilst we laughed 'at some pretended } Really at the actual • 1 t-» it oi mishaps. joke, with Balatro to help us, 'thou, great 2 The vocative is used -._.,. ,. , -ii m parody of the epic Nasidienus didst return, with brow quite style. changed, like one who meant to rectify mis- chances by his skill ; then followed slaves who bore in a large dish, in which our 3 pulse 3 The Romans' national id » t i iii f°°d was pulse or pottage is mostly served, a 4 crane s dismembered body anciently, and Nasidie- . tttt-tt , • i 1 t ii nus had been obliged to sprinkled thickly o er with salt and meal ; the use this dish, which was ,. r ■, • r . t 1 not the usual kind of one, liver of a white 5 goose, not a gander, mind, because he had no other. r j ' ^ r. 1 ?iijj. 4 Th e stork was prized fed on rich figs ; hares shoulders too, torn more than the crane. off as though much sweeter so, than if one fo f e gSX ,,hke ' pate de •ate them with the loins ; we then saw black- ^i^LSST^S birds served up with the breast absurdly wa 6 s t !^^. nt is he ^ e old burnt, and pigeons robbed of the best part ; £$3^7" C ° nfer all nice enough, had 7 but the host not kept 7 Bad taste again. on telling us the reason for their being thus prepared, and all their qualities, and him we fled away from, taking vengeance in this way, I mean by tasting nought at all, as though some witch, more venomous than Moorish , vide Sat., i., 3, for Canidia. snakes, had breathed upon the food. EPISTLE I.— BOOK I. Satire brands vices generally ; an epistle is addressed specially to one, and peculiarly tinged by the character of the one to whom it is addressed. This Epistle, addressed to Maecenas, contains the poet's excuse for having written nothing for three years, that is, since the publication of the Third Book of Odes. It advises calm philosophy, in preference to indis- criminate pursuit of honours, or attention to the great. Dear Patron, subject of my first attempts, fit subject for my last, you're trying to enlist me in my former training school, though I've already been before the public quite enough, and been presented with the wooden sword that sets me free. My time of life and incli- nations are now changed. l Veianius, you ' a celebrated giadia- tor. know, hung up his sword close by the temple gate of Hercules, and now lives in the coun- try quite secluded, to prevent his being forced SO Oft tO beg the public for release, 2 d0Se 2 Literally, at the edge , ,«_ , ! , , , - ' of the sand in the amphi- by the balcony where nobles view the games, theatre. And I too have a monitor that often rings into mine ears that hear him well such words as these : — If wise, in time set free the aged *3 2 EPISTLE I. BOOK I. steed, lest he should stumble at the last and 1 Mere iron y- break his wind. So now 1 1 give up writing verse, and all my other merry themes, and I am busily engaged in finding out what truth, what virtue is, and think of nothing else : — I'm storing and arranging rules to bring forth afterwards for action. And to save your possibly inquiring what the sect is, what the school I now attend, I tell you this : — I, bound to hold the dogmas of no one philosopher, go as a guest just where = The Stoics advocated occasion takes me. With the 2 Stoics, I take to npuKjiKov, a busy and 7 energetic life The Epi- p ar t i n state affairs, and plunge in politics' cureans to XaOeXv /3 E P- xvii - into the rules that 3 Aristippus held, and try to pass a philosophic life uninfluenced by circum- stance. Just as the night seems long to those whose mistress fails to come, the day to those who work for hire ; and as the year is tedious to minors, whom strict guardianship of mothers keeps in check, so all the time goes slowly and unpleasantly to me, that stays my hopes and plan of strenuously working out some philosophic truths that benefit the poor as well as rich, and will do harm to young and old alike unless attended to. It then remains for me to guide and to console myself with these plain truths. Sup- pose one cannot vie with others in keen sight, as Lynceus could, yet still, if sore- eyed, one would not for that reject the use of salve, nor, if one have no hope of gaining EPISTLE I. — BOOK I. I33 the unconquered ^lycon's strength, would 1 An athlete of the day. one refuse to guard one's body from the gout that swells the hands with nodes. One may make progress to a small extent, if one may not make more. Suppose one's breast be fevered with the miser's greed of gain, and with a wretched wish for more ; — well, there are words and charms by which one may assuage these perturbations, and may free one's self from most of the disease of mind. Suppose you be purled up with love of praise; then there's a well-known remedy that will be able to restore you, if you thrice read o'er a little work with guileless heart. Though jealous, passionate, or idle, fond of wine or women, still none are so savage that they can't be- come more civilized, if they but lend a ready ear to teaching. It is virtue to shun vice, and the first step to wisdom is to give up folly. You observe with what great toil of mind and body you avoid what you think the worst ills, — I mean small fortune, and want of success in hunting after place; just like an active trader you sail swiftly to remotest lands, in trying to shun poverty o'er sea, o'er rock, through flames, — and won't you learn and listen, and put faith in better men, to save your caring for that which you foolishly admire and long to gain? Pray, who that boxes in our villages and streets would not think much of being victor at the great Olympic games, if he had but the hope of gaining 134 EPISTLE I. BOOK I. without toil possession of the victors palm so dear ? Yet silver is not worth so much as gold ; so, then, gold is not worth so much The repetition of rives as virtue. Good citizens, attend ; first money serves to draw their ... attention. must be gamed, then virtue after wealth : the 1 = our Stock Ex- whole l Exchange from one end to the other change- . , ° rings with words like these ; both young and old, with satchel and with slate upon the left arm hung, recite these words by heart. Per- chance you've spirit and morality, — nay, elo- quence and credit too ; yet fifty, or say sixty 3 4o-,ooo sesterces = pounds are wanting to the 2 sum the knights must have; if so, no fourteen ranks for you. And yet the boys say in their sport, "You'll be a king if you shall play the game aright;" and so let moral right be your strong bulwark of defence : — I mean, to be not conscience- stricken, nor grow pale with any crime. Pray tell me which is better, Otho's law or this verse that the boys recite, which gives a kingdom to all those who play the game 3 Marcus Curius Den- aright, a verse sung by the 3 Curii and the tatus conquered the Sa- ,*..,-., , . . bines, and Pyrrhus, and Camilh e en when men ? Does he advise Marcus Furius Camillus . , „_ . . . . conquered the Gauls, you better who says, "Wealth, get wealth, Virtue, not wealth, was , . , , -r ' -r i i their aim. by right means if you can, if not get wealth by any means you can," that as a knight, forsooth, you may enjoy a nearer . . . By sitting in 4 A poor poet of the view of PupiUS affecting poetry; the fourteen day, J reserved rows. or he, who, ever by your side, exhorts and trains you to resist proud for- tune's frowns with fearless and undaunted mind? But if the Roman public possibly should ask me why I do not hold the EPISTLE I. — BOOK I. 135 same ideas as I lounge in the colonnades they do, or why I do not follow or avoid the objects of their choice or their aversion, I'll relate the answer that the wary fox once made to the sick lion, " 'Tis the footprints turning to your cave, and none away from it, that frighten me." 1 You people have as many • Another form of the . . . proverb, " quot homines, tastes as heads the hydra had. For what or tot sentential" whom, pray, shall I imitate ? Some men delight to farm the public revenues, while some hunt after greedy widows by presenting them with pastry or with fruit, or try to catch old men to shut up in preserves, like fish in ponds. Again, the property of many grows by secret usury. But granted that men follow different pursuits ; yet can the same men keep their fancy for a single moment ? No. Suppose a rich man shall have said, " No bay in all the world outshines delightful Baiae ;" then a watering-place in the lake and sea find out the eagerness shown ampania by the rich proprietor's unfinished plans; and if his inconsistent whim has prompted him with omens, as it were, he'll say, " To- morrow, workmen, 2 take your tools on to 2 The future is often -i-i P" 1 - ^ or f ^ e imperative. I eanum. Or suppose the marriage couch inland town of Cam- be spread within his halls ; he says that nought The inconsistency is excels, that nought is better than a single q^itdngTseLide p l"cI !•/• 1 . -r •, v it -1 * for an inland one without life; but if it be not spread, he swears that reason. married men alone are blest. With what chains can I hold fast bound this Proteus, a sea-god who had the power of changing ever changing, as he does, his form ? But his form. how do poor men act ? Oh, laugh at them; they change their garrets, Mining-rooms, their 3 Triclinia. 136 EPISTLE I. — BOOK I. baths and barbers, and are just as seasick in the boat they've hired as is the rich man whom a larger vessel with three banks of oars con- veys. You laugh at me suppose I meet you with unevenly cut hair, or if, as possibly may be, I wear a worn-out jersey 'neath a shirt quite new, or if my coat hang down more upon one side than the other, still you laugh ; and what, pray, do you do, when all my thoughts are inconsistent, when they spurn what once they tried to gain, then try to get again what just now they gave up, are tossed about, at variance with the whole rule of life ; pull down, build up, change square for round ? You only think me mad as most men are ; and do not laugh at me, nor think I need a doctor or a guardian chosen by the magis- trate, although you are protector of my in- terests, — and feel disgust at the most * trifling want of taste shown by a friend whose wel- fare is bound up with yours, who centres all his hopes in you. In tine, philosophers are but one step below the gods, they're rich and free, raised to high office, fair in mind 1 He was called' 'The (if not in form), Supreme as Persia's king, The word'"sanus"re- and gifted with especially good health of fers not only to bodily , , , . , , • j j i health, but to the stoics' body and mind too, unless, indeed, when pnnos f oph a er? P ^n e contra e - they're afflicted with bad colds. distinction to all others who were "insam." * Literally, on account of a badly pared nail. EPISTLE II.— BOOK I. Horace reads Homer again ; writes to Lollius, a friend, and gives him the opinions suggested by the perusal. While, Lollius, you, eldest of your father's sons, are learning rhetoric at Rome, I've read once more within Praeneste's walls ■ the a town in Latium, now author of the Trojan war, who tells in clearer i Homer. and in better terms than 2 Crantor or *Chry- a a follower of Plato. i . • • . j -i • •, 3 The great defender sippus what is virtue, and what vice, — what f the Stotc tenets, is expedience, and what its opposite. Now. if you've no engagement, listen to the reason for my thinking thus : — The 4 story in which ± Iliad. Greece is said because of Paris' love to have engaged in a protracted strife with Phrygia, contains a history of foolish kings' fierce pas- sions, and their nations' too. °Antenor votes . 5 one of the most pm- that they should rid themselves of the chief 6 cause of war. And what does Paris do? He 6 /.*j by restoring Helen. vows he can't submit to force, although it be to reign in safety, and live happily. Then Nestor hastens anxiously to calm the strife 'twixt Agamemnon and Achilles ; love in- flames the first, and anger both alike, and so 138 EPISTLE II. — BOOK I. the subjects suffer for the foolish errors of their kings. Then deeds of crime were done outside the walls of Troy, and inside too by mutiny, by treachery, by guilt, by lust, by rage. Next in the Odyssey he shows us in Ulysses a most excellent example of the power of virtue and philosophy, who, after taking Troy, much travelled as he was, exa- mined many nations' towns and character, and suffered many hardships in attempts to gain a safe return both for himself and crew, and could not be o'erwhelmed by rough mis- fortune's sea. You know the story of the 1 See Odyssey, k. 230. ' Sirens' strains and Circe's magic cups, which had he, with his crew by folly blinded and desire, once drunk, he would have been de- based and brutish 'neath a meretricious mis- tress' rule, and would have passed his life changed into filthy dog or sow that wallows in the mire. We then, as we do act, are but mere ciphers, born but to consume earth's fruits, like suitors of Penelope, true profli- 2 King of Phaeacia, or gates; like subjects of -Alcinoiis, who thought Corcyra, now Corfu. _ . ...... .. . too much about high living, and who deemed it a fine thing to sleep till noon each day that came, and lull their cares to rest by the melodious lute. When robbers rise at night to murder men, pray won't you wake up from this lethargy to save your life ? And yet, though you shall care not to take exer- cise in health, you'll have to take much more when dropsy has set in ; and should you not call for a book and light before daybreak, EPISTLE II. — BOOK I. 1 39 or fail to give your energies to creditable business and pursuits, you'll be distressed by envy or by love. For why, pray, do you hasten to remove what hurts the eyes, while, if aught gnaw the mind, you put off treating that for some long time ? The man who has 1 begun has finished half the work. Then 1 Weil begun is half it i • t-. done. have the courage to be wise. Begin at once. Men who defer the time for living a good life wait like the clown until the river rolls its floods away. But it rolls gliding on for aye, and will glide on. Yet possibly wealth is the object of their search, or else a wife prolific in childbearing, or wild woods are peace- fully reclaimed by tillage and the plough. Let those who have enough wish for nought more; no house, no farm, no stores of pre- cious metals, draw the fever from the sick possessor's frame, nor troubles from his heart. The owner must be well and strong if he mean to enjoy the wealth he has amassed. A mansion or estate gives but such pleasure to the man who longs for more, or dreads to lose what he has gained, as pictures give to blear-eyed men, hot fomentations to those suffering from gout; the strains of lutes to ears in pain from gathered filth. Unless the vessel should be clean, whate'er one may pour into it turns sour. Shun pleasure ; plea- sure bought by suffering is really pain. The miser ever is in want ; put some fixed limits to your wish. The envious grow lean with jealousy as they behold their neighbours' 14° EPISTLE II. BOOK I; Phaiaris, Agathocies, rich possessions : nay, Sicilian despots found and perhaps the Dio- . nysii. no greater torture than this envy. All who fail to check their rage will wish undone what sense of wrong and passion urged them on to do, while they try hurriedly to get revenge by force for their unsated hate. Rage is brief madness ; so, then, rule your mind, for it is or the slave or lord; restrain this mind with bridle and with chain. The trainers teach the horse while tractable with unformed neck to go the road the rider guides it on ; and so the hound hunts in the woods e'er since he barked at the stag's skin hung in the court. And so do you, while young, drink in with breast still pure instruc- tion's words : for long, you know, the cask will keep the flavour that it once, while fresh, was tainted with. But if you lag behind, or press on eagerly in front, I tell you this, — " I do not wait for loiterers, nor try to get before the rest." EPISTLE III.— BOOK I. This Epistle is addressed to Julius Florus, a friend, who had gone with Tiberius to Asia Minor. The poet asks him about Tiberius, about their mutual friends, and about Florus himself, encourages him to study philo- sophy, and to make friends with Munatius. Dear Florus, I should like to know in what tract of the earth Tiberius, Augustus' step-son, serves. Does Thrace or Hebrus' stream, hard bound with icy chain, or does the Hellespont that flows between the towers of Sestos and Abydos, or do Asia's fertile plains and hills detain you ? Pray, what composi- tion is that zealous band of youths engaged it was customary for a _ ™. . _ . ill i retinue of noble youths upon? I his, too, I lam would know: who to accompany state off- takes upon himself to tell in history the " exploits of Augustus ? Who is now trans- mitting to some distant age the story of the wars he waged, and peaces that he made ? What's l Titius composing, soon to be the i a consul who tried ,-■ r -n ~i i 1 i -n to translate Pindar into theme of Roman tongues ? — who boldly Latin, drank from the Pindaric spring, and dared to disregard the stores and sources all can use alike. How is he ? How does he I4 2 EPISTLE III. BOOK I. remember me ? With happy inspiration is he trying to adapt the measures of the i pindar - Theban *bard to Latin lyric verse, or does he storm and rave with turgid style in Cdsus Aibinovanus, tragedy ? And how is Celsus, who has been the secretary of Tiberius. . . advised by me, and still must be advised to seek resources of his own, and not to pla- giarize from all those works that once have i. e , been received passed the Palatine Apollo's temple doors, into the public library. x . lest like a miserable crow he should be ridiculed, and stripped of all his borrowed plumes, if possibly the flock of birds should come to claim their feathers once again? What style do you yourself attempt ? What kind of poetry do you now hover busily about like bees round thyme ? No mean, or rough, or wildly untrained genius is yours ; nay, whether you now whet your eloquence for pleading, or prepare to be a chamber barrister, or are composing charming songs in praise of love or wine, you'll gain the first prize that the victor's ivy crown can give. But Money and ambition, if you could abandon that which checks all generous thought, and feeds the care you feel, you then would go where heaven-born wisdom leads. Let us, both high and low, extend this work of wisdom in our acts and thoughts, if we desire to live both valued by our country, and approved of by ourselves. You also ought to tell me this in answer, — 2 Son of Lucius Muna- whether 2 Plancus' son be loved by you as tius Plancus, consul. ... , . , he deserves, or, like a wound th at s sewn unskilfully, does your new friendship try in EPISTLE III. BOOK I. 143 vain to form ? and is it being sundered now ? But if hot blood or misconstruction of the facts sets you at variance like wild steeds with unbroken necks, I tell you this : wher- ever in the world you be, unworthy of you as it is to sunder friendship's closest bond, a heifer, I have vowed to slay to honour your return, is feeding now for sacrifice. EPISTLE IV.— BOOK I. This Epistle is addressed to Albius Tibullus, the great elegiac poet, who was a dear friend of Horace, and a contemporary of Horace, Ovid, and Propertius. Dear Albius, fair critic of my Satires, what shall I suppose you're doing now near Pedum, now called Pedum's town ? That you're composing Zagarola, was a town in J v Latium. something to surpass the epigrams and son- nets Cassius of Parma wrote ; or that in meditative mood you roam 'mid healthful groves with thoughts on all that's worthy of the wise and good ? Your body ne'er has lacked the spirit's. stirring power. For heaven has bestowed on you good looks and wealth, and knowledge how to use that wealth. What greater blessing could a kind nurse wish for her dear charge who, like yourself, thinks what is right, and can express his i Influence and repute, thoughts, to whom the blessings of depute and influence, and health abundantly belong, together with a tasteful style of living, and no lack of means to keep it up ? 'Mid hopes of gain, and care of what you have already gained, 'mid fear of ills to EPISTLE IV. BOOK I. [ 45 come, and angry pain at present woe, still think each day that dawns to be your last. For pleasantly will come the time that . _. The Romans used yOU Shall not expect tO live. more forcible language „ n , ,, it. in their J ests against \\ hen you shall care to laugh at me, a themselves than we do. r -r-« • i i j r ,i For instance, Cicero, pig from Epicurus herd of swine, then come in a letter to Atticus, i - - c , ill 'iiT* calls himself a " down- and visit me, now fat and sleek with living right ass," and addresses 11 Piso as "Asine," you Well donkey. EPISTLE V.— BOOK I. This Epistle is addressed to Torquatus, a friend and orator, and contains an invitation to celebrate Augustus' approaching birthday, and advises his friend to enjoy life while he may. Archias was a cabinet- Torquatus, if you can endure to be my maker at Rome. . 1 , , '_ Literally, as a guest guest and sit down at a homely board, and to recline on couches , , • , r , . - * , . - . made by Archias. do not shrink from nothing but plain fooa, The use of the words , ,-, Tin "ciusomne" in the text, served up on common earthenware, I shall entire vegetable diet, to i , , -i intimate the plainness of expect you at my house at sunsets hour. lit f0 o°u d r' use'^fTh! You shall drink wine poured into cask «°(>me m a^ n taLe^wheD 'Taurus was made consul for the muuon with me to-mor- secQnd ^^ tfae g rowt h Q f y [ nts between i Titus statiiius Tau- Minturnae's marsh and Mount 2 Petrinus, in rus was consul a second ' time, a.u.c. 728. The 3 sinuessa's state. wine was six years old, and moderately good. if y 0U have any better, send your slave - Now Piedimonte. f J J 3 in Campania, now w hh it : if not, submit to me. Mondragone, and the ruins. My hearth and household gods have long been bright, my furniture long cleaned to honour you. Away with fruitless hopes, give 4 a Mysian rhetori- U p the race for gold, and rive up 4 Moschus' cian. who was accused x . . 01 being a wizard. case ; to-morrow is Augustus' birthday and a festival, and is to give us licence and more EPISTLE V. — BOOK I. 147 rest, and we shall be permitted, without fear of loss, to wile away the summer eve with many pleasant anecdotes. Why should I wish for fortune's gifts if I A " interrogative phrase of impatience. be not allowed to reap the fruits of them ? . "Quo" is the old da- . . ill tlve f° r " cin <" i n tne The man who is too sparing and too hard sense of "quorsum," and . .... . there is an ellipsis of upon himself m his heirs interest is very "optem." nearly mad. I will begin to drink, and J tear 1 The custom of scat- . , t r , j -,-, tering flowers about the garland from my brow, and will not during a carousal is not t . -, r 1 ,-, -i , -. .1 • , so much alluded to as shrink from being thought a rash enthusiast, the habit of tearing the What does not wine effect ? It shows one's ISd^ufiing'the flowers truest feelings, makes one's hopes seem £5?°? S^cET which realized, inspires the cowardly with ardour w h^ m ^thh d wfne. in for the fray, relieves the anxious mind of all its care, gives fresh accomplishments. And whom does not the flowing bowl make eloquent ? Whom does it not set free from care, though pressed by pinching poverty? I'm suited well to see to this, and suitably it's asked of me, and gladly will I see that all the coverlets be clean, and that no dirty dinner-napkin cause disgust, that both the goblet and the dish may be so bright as to reflect your face, that there be none to talk abroad of what true friends have said, to see that spirits quite congenial may meet and may sit side by side ; I will ask Butra and Septicius to meet you, and Sabinus, if an earlier engagement or a wish to dine with his own mistress keep him not ; and there is room for several extra guests, but overcrowded parties ne'er can be agreeable. Just send a line to say how many you I48 EPISTLE V. — BOOK I. would like to bring, then leave your legal business, get out by the private door, and so escape the client as he watches you within the entrance-room. EPISTLE VI.— BOOK I. This Epistle is addressed to a friend, Numicius, to whom the poet recommends a calm philosophy, freedom from superstition, and a proper estimate of riches. Numicius, a calm philosophy's about the one chief thing, — indeed, the only thing that can procure enduring happiness. Some men can view yon sun and stars, and seasons rolling by in changeless course, with hearts untouched by fear; and what think you of gold and silver, marble, pearls, and purple that enrich the sons of Araby and India : — what of the Circus with its shows, th' applause for the display, the digni- ties the people's favour brings : — pray, with what limits, with what feelings, looks, and eyes should they be viewed ? The man who fears reverse and poverty is quite as much bewildered as the one who longs for gain ; 'tis strong emotion that distresses both, directly that the sight of something quite unlooked for terrifies them both. What matters it if be feel joy or grief, desire or 15 EPISTLE VI. BOOK I. fear; if with dull stare he lose his powers of mind and body too, in stupid wonder at whatever he has seen that or exceeds or falls below what he expects to see ? Let, then, the wise man be called mad, the just unjust, if he pursue e'en virtue to excess. Go, then, gaze up at plate, old marble, and bronze statues, works of art ; admire the purple's hues set off by precious stones ; rejoice that countless eyes gaze on you as their orator ; industrious and early go to the law courts, and late go home Nothing was known of again, for fear some rival should get more from land his wife in dowry brought, than you from pleading, and — (what you could never brook,) sprung as he is from meaner origin than you — lest he should rather merit your esteem than you should his. Whate'er there be beneath the earth, time will bring forth to open day, and time will bury and conceal all that now seems so fair. Although The Appian road led Agrippa's colonnade and road of Appius to the villas of the rich , r ,, .,, in Campania. now know your lace so well, you still must The Roman gentlemen ^i L i L i i • i -r-> > frequented these resorts gO tO that last DOUme tO which Rome S as we do the Burlineton i 1 - i • i Tr i • and Rotten Row. noblest kings have gone. If pleurisy or •To'rned wilh^pic- Bright' s disease assail you, find some remedy ,r the Argonautic for the comp i a i nt f course, you wish to live a happy life; who don't ? Well, then, if virtue only can give this, drop luxury, and see to this with moral bravery. You think philosophy a form of words, just as a wood is made of trees ; see, then, that no one bring his vessel home to port before yourself, EPISTLE VI. — BOOK I. 15^ lest you should lose the profits from your trade with x Cibyra or with Bithynia. See 1 A large city of that a quarter of a million pounds be gained completely; add a second quarter, and a third, and, finally, a fourth to make the million up. No doubt this money that so ah this is ironical. rules the world gives one a dowered wife, gives credit, friends, and noble birth ; ay, handsome person, too; in fine, persuasion and a winning grace set off the moneyed man. The Cappadocian king, though rich in Ariobarzanes. slaves, wants money ; don't you be like him. Lucullus, as men say, when asked if he could a general who fought , , , i j j "i\i li against Mithridates, and lend the stage a hundred military cloaks, gained his wealth in the said, " How can I supply so many ? still, I'll look and send you all I have." Soon afterwards he wrote to say he had five thou- sand cloaks, and that the manager might The prsetor superin- tended the appointments take a part or all. of the public games. Poor is the house, where there's not more than is enough, that is not noticed by the owner's eye, and proves the perquisite of thievish slaves. Well, then, if wealth alone can give us ah irony. lasting happiness, why, be the first to take this work in hand, the last to give it up. If influence and splendour make men blest, then let us buy a slave to tell the names of those we a slave called the -.j '-l-ji j j "nomenclator," who sat meet and nudge us in the side he guards, and on t h e left side, and told make us shake hands over dirty counters with those^met.* ' their weights and scales, and say, " This man has influence among the Fabian, and that among the Veline tribe ; a third will 152 EPISTLE VI. — BOOK I. 1 The consulate. give the Victor's rods and chair of ivory to whomsoever he will, or will inexorably take the same away." Call such men " brother," or else " father," blandly greet them as rela- tions in the way that suits the age of each. If he who dines well, lives as men should live ; now day has dawned, why, let us go where fondness for good living calls ; yes, Gargiiius was a freed- let us go buy fish and meat, as once Gargilius, u^edtoagxee^eforehand who would give orders that his nets and hi ? ma S w outside Se hunting spears and slaves should in the back\^Lugh n idit n d g in morning be conveyed across the crowded hunting. market-place ; so that, forsooth, one mule from all the pack might bring back home a boar he — bought^ the public looking on meanwhile. Then let us bathe ere we have well digested food, forgetting what is right, what 2 The inhabitants of wrong, well 2 worthy of disfranchisement ; a Caere, in Etruria. gained . . , ., , t^-, • r the freedom of the city vicious crew, like that Ulysses, prince of wherfRo^ewas S 5rcke e d Ithaca, once had, who thought 3 forbidden wire e afterw^ids* dl pleasure better than their fatherland. ^Vhey^ killed 'Tome If, as Mimnermus thinks, nought is de- ^S^efegiac 1 poet 111 of ^ghtful without love and merriment, why, Colophon. spend your life in love and merriment. Farewell, long life be yours \ if you know aught more true than what you read from me, sincerely tell me it ; if not, join me in acting on these truths. EPISTLE VII.— BOOK I. This Epistle is addressed to Maecenas, and contains a most candid excuse for his absence. Although I promised to be at my country house but a ! few days, I broke my word, and i "Quinque" is not to you've expected me throughout the whole of iated. August. True. Yet if you wish me to live really well and strong, you will, dear patron, grant me, now that I'm afraid of falling ill, the same indulgence that you grant me when I'm actuallyill ; while earlyfigs and the "Sirocco" grace the undertaker with his sable train, while fathers and while loving mothers all are anxious for their children's health, while sedu- lous attendance on one's patron and the busi- ness of the courts bring fevers on, and open dead men's wills. But if midwinter should strew snow upon the Alban hills, your poet will go down then to the 2 sea, and take care 2 ToVeiia or Saiemum. of his health ; and well wrapped up, will read with limbs close drawn together ; you, dear friend, he'll visit with 3 spring's harbinger, and 3 Literally, with the . ir . r . , • , zephyrs and the first spring itself, if you permit him to do so. swallow. 154 EPISTLE VII. — BOOK I. You've not bestowed your favours upon The Caiabrians were me, as some hosts with rough kindness bid kind, but rough. . . their guests eat pears. Say they, " I pray you, eat : " you answer, " I have had enough." Well, take away all that you will. No, thank you. Yet you'll take them home as welcome presents to your little children. I am quite as much obliged as if I were sent off well laden with your gift. Well, as you will ; yet you will leave them here to be consumed to-day by pigs. The wasteful and the foolish man gives but what he disdains or loathes. This barren soil has ever and will ever for all time produce ungrateful men. But men who are both good and wise avow themselves quite ready to assist all who deserve their aid, and yet they know the difference between the counters that the actor and the gambler uses and the sterling coin. I'll show myself well worthy of your kindness, e'en commensurately with the high renown of you who so deserve my gratitude. But if you be unwilling that I quit yourself and Rome for any other place, then give me back my The infinitives in the once strong chest, ixiv dark hair growing text are used as accusa- . tives of substantives, as thicklv on my brow ; yes, give me back my in Persius and elsewhere. pleasant now of language ; give me back my graceful laugh, my fond lament for wanton Cinara's desertion over wine. i Natural history is It happened once that a lean ! fox had 111 crept through some small chink into a bin of corn, and after feeding, when its body was EPISTLE VII. — BOOK I. 155 now full of food, tried vainly to get out again. And to this fox, the weasel, not far off, said this : When lean go to that narrow hole which lean you first went through. If I should be convicted by this simile I give up all, for I don't praise the Simple country * Literally, the sleep life when filled with rich and dainty food, Fat birds," such as j T , .j , r ,, geese, turkeys, grouse. nor do I change my independent ease for all the wealth of Araby. You've often praised my modesty; you have been called by me when with you, " king " and " father," and the same although away ; test me and see if I can gladly part with all you gave. Telema- chus, the son of him who bore so much, said Ulysses. aptly, " Ithaca is not a place that suits the horse, for it lacks spacious champaigns, and does not grow grass abundantly ; " so, Mene- laus, I will leave your gifts to you, whom they suit better than they suit myself. The humble, humble fortune suits; no longer queenly Rome gives me delight, but Tibur with its quiet streets, or e'en Tarentum's tranquil town. As 2 Philip once, an energetic and a stout 2 Lucius Marcus Phi- antagonist, and famous too for pleading 698 P . US ' consu1, A,u,c * cases, came back from his business home at two o'clock, and, now in years, complained that 3 the law courts were too far from Carinas ; as they say, he spied some man fresh shaven 3As we might say in a banker's shop, and with a penknife far VromThe**ourts *at cleaning his nails quietly. Said Philip to carTn^was a fashion- his slave— a slave who would with smart ^thfte^^L^S despatch do what his master bade,—" Deme- Rome resided * trius, away, find out, and bring word from 156 EPISTLE VII. — BOOK I. what country he is come, what is his cha- racter and rank, and parentage and interest." He goes, comes back and tells his master that he is an auctioneer, by name Volteius Mena, of small property but blameless cha- racter, known by his class, fond of hard work in season, and then rest; of gaining money and then spending it ; fond of the company of a few friends in humble station like himself; of a fixed home and married life ; the public games and Plain of Mars when business was all done. I fain would ask the man himself about all this you tell me ; bid him come to dine with me. This, Mena really scarcely could believe, but mused in secret wonderment ; in short, his answer was, " I'm much obliged, but cannot come.' 7 Is't possible that he refuses me? He both refuses obstinately and or cares nought for or dreads your company. But in the morning Philip lights upon Volteius selling 1 Sans culottes ; the to the Y coatless common people broken stuff, poor class wore no toga. , . , - and is the first to say, " How do you do ? " He then begins to make his hard work, and the ties of trade, excuses for not having called at Philip's house next day, in short, for failing to perceive and greet him first. Consider that I pardon you (said Philip), on condition that you dine with me to-day. Well, as you will. Then come at half-past three ; now go, and zealously pursue your trade. EPISTLE VII. BOOK I. 157 When he had come to dinner, and had talked of anything that chanced to come into his head, he had at last to be informed that it was time to go off home to sleep. When, now a regular attendant on his patron in the morn- ing, and a constant guest, he had been often seen to hurry down to Philip's house as fish will dart at hook concealed by bait • he then was bid to go with him out to his Country seat near i in the Sabine tem- Rorae, because the Latin holidays had been The "Ferii Latinae" , . , ~ , . , , were a moveable festival proclaimed. Once seated in a mule-car, he proclaimed at the piea- t_ • . , i p, t • sure of the consul. bestows incessant praise upon the Sabine land and clime. This Philip sees and laughs, and as he tries to find rest and amusement from whatever source he can, and gives Volteius sixty pounds, and pro- mises to lend him sixty more, he strongly urges him to buy a small estate. He buys it, and to cut the story short, instead of a neat townsman turns rough countryman, and talks of nought but furrows and vine- yards ; prepares his elms for wedding with the vines, wears out his strength in business, and grows grey with his desire for gain. But when his sheep were lost by theft, his she- goats by the murrain \ when his crops deceived his hopes, his ox grew lean with ploughing the rough soil : — provoked by all this loss, ere morning broke, he seized his horse, and in a rage set off for Philip's house. And when he saw the man all dirty and unshorn, he said, I think, Volteius, you are too laborious, and keep too close at I58 EPISTLE VII. — BOOK I. work. Said he, I' faith, my patron, you would call me " wretched" if you cared to give me the right name. So, then, I pray you and implore you by your guardian-god, your friendship, and your hearth and home, restore me to my former life. Then let the man who once has seen how far superior is what he had to what he tried to gain, come back in time and take again the lot in life he left. 'Tis right that men should estimate themselves by standard and by rule that suits their state. EPISTLE VIII.— BOOK I. This Epistle informs a friend, Celsus Albinovanus, one of the retinue o. Tiberius engaged in Armenia, that Horace felt that he was not 1 iving as a philosopher should live, and as he had avowed that he would ; inquires after the health and prospects of his friend, and ends with a warning not to forget to bear his new honours without undue pride and elation of mind. Come now, my pen, invoked by me, compose a letter of felicitation in reply to Celsus, aide-de-camp and secretary to the Prince Tiberius. If Celsus ask what I'm about, say } The full name was Tiberius Claudius Nero. that although I make fair promises enough, I live not as I should, and so not as I like ; yet not because the hail has bruised my vines, or heat parched up my olives, nor be- cause my herds are struck by murrain in some distant fields, but all because, less /. 11 • 1 • j and adored after harvest hind Vacuna s crumbling shrine, contented fvaco^ 6 glver ° f rcst with all else except your absence from myself. EPISTLE XI.— BOOK I. This Epistle is addressed to Bullatius, a friend, otherwise not much known. He seems to have been a rich man, the victim of ennui; which, in common with many others, he tried to relieve by travelling, instead of engaging energetically in some praiseworthy pursuit. Horace encourages him to live more philosophically, exhorts him to come back, and hints that he himself is happy where'er he be, through a contented mind, not mere change of place. Bullatius, what do you think of 1 Chios and i islands in the ^Egean. famed Lesbos, what of Samos with neat buildings, what of 2 Sardis, Croesus' royal 2 Capital of Lydia. home, of Smyrna, and of Colophon ? Do Ionian cities. they surpass or fall below what rumour says of them, or do they all displease, contrasted with our Plain of Mars and Tiber's stream? Pray, does some one of the Attalic towns Called so after a , . , _ king of the Attali. Some suit your desires, or do you now approve of of them were Pergamus, Lebedus, through mere disgust caused by the bldut s 'was y an^ionian sea and roads ? You know the character of m Lebedus, it is a hamlet more untenanted than Gabii, or than Fidenae ; and yet there, Gabii, a town in La- forgetful of my friends, and by my friends "pldena, a small Sabine forgot, I'd gladly watch the raging sea a little town ' distance from the shore. And yet a man who goes from Capua to Rome will not, be- On the A PP ian road. l66 EPISTLE XL — BOOK I. spattered though he be with mud and rain, desire to spend his life in dirty inns ; nor does a man who has caught cold talk loud in praise of bakers' ovens and hot baths, as though they rendered life completely happy ; nor, suppose fierce winds have tossed you on the deep, would you for that cause sell your vessel ere you got back home again. Fair /.^., he feds no more Rhodes and Mitylene have the same effect desire for those beautiful , .... . . towns than he does for on one who is content and thinks aright, as great-coats in the dog days, as thin military training-drawers in storms of snow, as bathing in midwinter in the Tiber's stream, or as a fire in August's heat. But while you can, and fortune smiles, at Rome praise Samos, Chios, Rhodes, but do not go to them. Take with a grateful hand whatever time the gods have blessed, and don't put off your joy for future days ; so that in what- soever station you have been, you may say that you've gladly lived : for if philosophy and wisdom take away our cares, and not a place that has a wide view of the sea, why, those who haste to other lands but change their clime and not their thoughts. A busy "Nos" means Romans idleness distresses us i we £ro o'er sea and like Hullatius, among , . whom Horace lived land in search of happiness. Yet what you seek is here at Rome, or is town in Italy, There at (a small town like) Ulubrae, if you but find Augustus was brought up. content. EPISTLE XII.— BOOK I. This Epistle is addressed to Marcus Iccius, who was at c nee a soldier and philosopher, and exhorts him to cease his complaints, for which there is no real cause, and to make a friend of Pompeius Grosphus, who was himself the poet's friend. If, as you should, dear Iccius, you use the fixed per-centage that you get from your col- A ^ g " st ^ sg e a s ^ t el arCliS lection of Agrippa's revenues in Sicily, it is impossible for gods to grant you greater affluence. Cease your complaints; for he's not poor who has the power to use whate'er he wants. If you have good digestion, with sound lungs and Active feet, the wealth of kings 1/.*., free from gout, will fail to give you greater boons. If, (as perhaps you do,) surrounded by abundance, you still temperately live on vegetable food and nettles, so you will keep living on, al- The ordinary nettle, ,i j j i i • t not the sea-nettle. The though you suddenly became as rich as Italians, even now, in the Midas was; and this because wealth cannot amUender!' W leyoung change a nature like to yours, or else be- to ^ s ^f„ Pact" cause you philosophically think that virtue ^SSlS^StSi is superior to all besides. xt ' We are astonished that his neighbours' Democritus was from cattle ate the produce of Democritus's fields, tor of tiU atomic theory! 1 68 EPISTLE XII. BOOK I. Argument :~if Demo- whilst his great mind was deep w ^ e ^ n j' nS tu S pro P W ert° y n ?or e "he in abstract speculation: though SSJ-gflS d^ y o^ P fe^ y how (we need not feel surprise), for the body. oT § h h t weTo r feei S a U t^ur you, 'mid that infectious greed of £^i£&£& gain you see, have thoughts for nothing mean, imtd f Tyou7t d cessa e ry and even now Y ou stud Y natural philosophy; business transactions and an ^ j arn k at agencies restrain the sea, what dry accounts ! o regulates the seasons ; whether by some forces of their own, or influence of gods, ... , . . . Slightly iron- the stars roll in their orbits, or icaL stray from their spheres ; what makes themoon to wane, and then to wax again ; what purpose and what power this union without identity of all the world's great elements possesses ; and Empedocies was from whether Empedocles or shrewd Stertinius in Agrigentum, and a fol- lower of Pythagoras. terpret nature Wrong. But Whether Merely a hu- Stertinius, called iron- . morous wav of ically "sapientum octa- yOU be living On the SOUls, for- say i ng If you vus," is put to represent . ,• *' ve