Part 18

Hourly we see some raw pin-feathered thing Attempt to mount, and fights and heroes sing; Who for false quantities was whipt at school But t'other day, and breaking grammar-rule; Whose trivial art was never tried above The bare description of a native grove; Who knows not how to praise the country store, } The feasts, the baskets, nor the fatted boar, } Nor paint the flowery fields that paint themselves before; } Where Romulus was bred, and Quintius born,[184] Whose shining plough-share was in furrows worn, Met by his trembling wife returning home, And rustically joyed, as chief of Rome: She wiped the sweat from the Dictator's brow, } And o'er his back his robe did rudely throw; } The lictors bore in state their lord's triumphant plough. } Some love to hear the fustian poet roar, And some on antiquated authors pore; Rummage for sense, and think those only good Who labour most, and least are understood. When thou shalt see the blear-eyed fathers teach Their sons this harsh and mouldy sort of speech, Or others new affected ways to try, Of wanton smoothness, female poetry; One would enquire from whence this motley style Did first our Roman purity defile. For our old dotards cannot keep their seat, But leap and catch at all that's obsolete. Others, by foolish ostentation led, When called before the bar, to save their head, Bring trifling tropes, instead of solid sense, And mind their figures more than their defence; Are pleased to hear their thick-skulled judges cry, Well moved, oh finely said, and decently! Theft (says the accuser) to thy charge I lay, O Pedius: what does gentle Pedius say? Studious to please the genius of the times, With periods, points, and tropes,[185] he slurs his crimes: "He robbed not, but he borrowed from the poor, And took but with intention to restore." He lards with flourishes his long harangue; 'Tis fine, say'st thou;--what, to be praised, and hang? Effeminate Roman, shall such stuff prevail To tickle thee, and make thee wag thy tail? Say, should a shipwrecked sailor sing his woe, Wouldst thou be moved to pity, or bestow An alms? What's more preposterous than to see A merry beggar? Mirth in misery?

PERSIUS.

He seems a trap for charity to lay, And cons, by night, his lesson for the day.

FRIEND.

But to raw numbers, and unfinished verse, Sweet sound is added now, to make it terse: "'Tis tagged with rhyme, like Berecynthian Atys, The mid-part chimes with art, which never flat is.[186] The dolphin brave, that cuts the liquid wave, Or he who in his line can chine the long-ribbed Appennine."

PERSIUS.

All this is doggrel stuff.

FRIEND.

What if I bring A nobler verse? "Arms and the man I sing."

PERSIUS.

Why name you Virgil with such fops as these? He's truly great, and must for ever please: Not fierce, but aweful, is his manly page; Bold is his strength, but sober is his rage.

FRIEND.

What poems think you soft, and to be read With languishing regards, and bending head?

PERSIUS.

"Their crooked horns the Mimallonian crew With blasts inspired;[187] and Bassaris, who slew The scornful calf, with sword advanced on high, Made from his neck his haughty head to fly: And Mænas, when with ivy bridles bound, } She led the spotted lynx, then Evion rung around; } Evion from woods and floods repairing echo's sound." } Could such rude lines a Roman mouth become, Were any manly greatness left in Rome? Mænas and Atys[188] in the mouth were bred, And never hatched within the labouring head; No blood from bitten nails those poems drew, But churned, like spittle, from the lips they flew.

FRIEND.

'Tis fustian all; 'tis execrably bad; But if they will be fools, must you be mad? Your satires, let me tell you, are too fierce; The great will never bear so blunt a verse. Their doors are barred against a bitter flout; Snarl, if you please, but you shall snarl without. Expect such pay as railing rhymes deserve; You're in a very hopeful way to starve.

PERSIUS.

Rather than so, uncensured let them be; All, all is admirably well, for me. My harmless rhyme shall 'scape the dire disgrace Of common-shoars, and every pissing-place. Two painted serpents[189] shall on high appear; 'Tis holy ground; you must not urine here. This shall be writ, to fright the fry away, Who draw their little baubles when they play. Yet old Lucilius[190] never feared the times, But lashed the city, and dissected crimes. Mutius and Lupus both by name he brought; He mouthed them, and betwixt his grinders caught. Unlike in method, with concealed design, Did crafty Horace his low numbers join; And, with a sly insinuating grace, Laughed at his friend, and looked him in the face; Would raise a blush where secret vice he found, And tickle while he gently probed the wound; With seeming innocence the crowd beguiled, But made the desperate passes when he smiled. Could he do this, and is my muse controuled By servile awe? Born free, and not be bold? At least, I'll dig a hole within the ground, And to the trusty earth commit the sound; The reeds shall tell you what the poet fears, "King Midas has a snout, and asses ears."[191] This mean conceit, this darling mystery, Which thou think'st nothing, friend, thou shalt not buy; Nor will I change for all the flashy wit, That flattering Labeo in his Iliads writ. Thou, if there be a thou in this base town, Who dares, with angry Eupolis, to frown; He who, with bold Cratinus, is inspired With zeal,[192] and equal indignation fired; Who at enormous villainy turns pale, And steers against it with a full-blown sail, Like Aristophanes, let him but smile On this my honest work, though writ in homely style; And if two lines or three in all the vein Appear less drossy, read those lines again. May they perform their author's just intent, Glow in thy ears, and in thy breast ferment! But from the reading of my book and me, Be far, ye foes of virtuous poverty; Who fortune's fault upon the poor can throw,[193] Point at the tattered coat, and ragged shoe; Lay nature's failings to their charge, and jeer The dim weak eye-sight when the mind is clear; When thou thyself, thus insolent in state, Art but, perhaps, some country magistrate, Whose power extends no farther than to speak Big on the bench, and scanty weights to break. Him also for my censor I disdain, Who thinks all science, as all virtue, vain; Who counts geometry, and numbers toys, And with his foot the sacred dust destroys;[194] Whose pleasure is to see a strumpet tear A cynick's beard, and lug him by the hair. Such all the morning to the pleadings run; } But when the business of the day is done, } On dice, and drink, and drabs, they spend their afternoon. }

FOOTNOTES:

[174] Parnassus and Helicon were hills consecrated to the Muses, and the supposed place of their abode. Parnassus was forked on the top; and from Helicon ran a stream, the spring of which was called the Muses' well.

[175] Pyrene, a fountain in Corinth, consecrated also to the Muses.

[176] The statues of the poets were crowned with ivy about their brows.

[177] Before the shrine; that is, before the shrine of Apollo, in his temple at Rome, called the Palatine.

[178] Note I.

[179] Note II.

[180] Note III.

[181] Note IV.

[182] Note V.

[183] Note VI.

[184] Note VII.

[185] Note VIII.

[186] Note IX.

[187] Note X.

[188] Note XI.

[189] Note XII.

[190] Note XIII.

[191] Note XIV.

[192] Note XV.

[193] Note XVI.

[194] Note XVII.

NOTES

ON

TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS.

SATIRE I.

Note I.

_Should cry up Labeo's stuff, and cry me down._--P. 208.

Nothing is remaining of Atticus Labeo (so he is called by the learned Casaubon); nor is he mentioned by any other poet, besides Persius. Casaubon, from an old commentator on Persius, says, that he made a very foolish translation of Homer's Iliads.

Note II.

_They comb, and then they order every hair; A gown, or white, or scoured to whiteness, wear; A birth-day jewel bobbing at their ear._--P. 209.

He describes a poet, preparing himself to rehearse his works in public, which was commonly performed in August. A room was hired, or lent, by some friend; a scaffold was raised, and a pulpit placed for him who was to hold forth; who borrowed a new gown, or scoured his old one, and adorned his ears with jewels, &c.

Note III.

_Know, my wild fig-tree, which in rocks is bred, Will split the quarry, and shoot out the head._--P. 209.

Trees of that kind grow wild in many parts of Italy, and make their way through rocks, sometimes splitting the tomb-stones.

Note IV.

_In cedar tablets worthy to appear._--P. 210.

The Romans wrote on cedar and cypress tables, in regard of the duration of the wood. Ill verses might justly be afraid of frankincense; for the papers in which they were written, were fit for nothing but to wrap it up.

Note V.

_Products of citron beds._--P. 210.

Writings of noblemen, whose bedsteads were of the wood of citron.

Note VI.

_Hadst thou but, Janus-like, a face behind._--P. 211.

Janus was the first king of Italy, who refuged Saturn when he was expelled, by his son Jupiter, from Crete (or, as we now call it, Candia). From his name the first month of the year is called January. He was pictured with two faces, one before and one behind; as regarding the past time and the future. Some of the mythologists think he was Noah, for the reason given above.

Note VII.

_Where Romulus was bred, and Quintius born._--P. 212.

He speaks of the country in the foregoing verses; the praises of which are the most easy theme for poets, but which a bad poet cannot naturally describe: then he makes a digression to Romulus, the first king of Rome, who had a rustical education; and enlarges upon Quintius Cincinnatus, a Roman senator, who was called from the plough to be dictator of Rome.

Note VIII.

_With periods, points, and tropes, he slurs his crimes._ P. 213.

Persius here names antitheses, or seeming contradictions; which, in this place, are meant for rhetorical flourishes, as I think, with Casaubon.

Note IX.

_'Tis tagged with rhyme, like Berecynthian Atys, The mid-part chimes with art, which never flat is._ P. 213.

Foolish verses of Nero, which the poet repeats; and which cannot be translated, properly, into English.

Note X.

_Their crooked horns the Mimallonian crew With blasts inspired._--P. 214.

Other verses of Nero, that were mere bombast. I only note, that the repetition of these and the former verses of Nero, might justly give the poet a caution to conceal his name.

Note XI.

_Mænas and Atys._--P. 214.

Poems on the Mænades, who were priestesses of Bacchus; and of Atys, who made himself an eunuch to attend on the sacrifices of Cybele, called Berecynthia by the poets. She was mother of the gods.

Note XII.

_Two painted serpents shall on high appear._--P. 215.

Two snakes, twined with each other, were painted on the walls, by the ancients, to show the place was holy.

Note XIII.

_Old Lucilius._--P. 215.

Lucilius wrote long before Horace, who imitates his manner of satire, but far excels him in the design.

Note XIV.

_King Midas has a snout, and asses ears._--P. 215.

The story is vulgar, that Midas, king of Phrygia, was made judge betwixt Apollo and Pan, who was the best musician: he gave the prize to Pan; and Apollo, in revenge, gave him asses ears. He wore his hair long to hide them; but his barber discovering them, and not daring to divulge the secret, dug a hole in the ground, and whispered into it: the place was marshy; and, when the reeds grew up, they repeated the words which were spoken by the barber. By Midas, the poet meant Nero.

Note XV.

_Who dares, with angry Eupolis, to frown; He who, with bold Cratinus, is inspired With zeal._--P. 215.

Eupolis and Cratinus, as also Aristophanes, mentioned afterwards, were all Athenian poets; who wrote that sort of comedy which was called the Old Comedy, where the people were named who were satirized by those authors.

Note XVI.

_Who fortune's fault upon the poor can throw._--P. 216.

The people of Rome, in the time of Persius, were apt to scorn the Grecian philosophers, particularly the Cynics and Stoics, who were the poorest of them.

Note XVII.

_Who counts geometry, and numbers toys, And with his foot the sacred dust destroys._--P. 216.

Arithmetic and geometry were taught on floors, which were strewed with dust, or sand; in which the numbers and diagrams were made and drawn, which they might strike out at pleasure.

THE

SECOND SATIRE

OF

PERSIUS.

DEDICATED TO HIS FRIEND

PLOTIUS MACRINUS,

ON HIS BIRTH-DAY.

THE ARGUMENT.

_This Satire contains a most grave and philosophical argument, concerning prayers and wishes. Undoubtedly it gave occasion to Juvenal's tenth satire; and both of them had their original from one of Plato's dialogues, called the "Second Alcibiades." Our author has induced it with great mystery of art, by taking his rise from the birth-day of his friend; on which occasions, prayers were made, and sacrifices offered by the native. Persius, commending, first, the purity of his friend's vows, descends to the impious and immoral requests of others. The satire is divided into three parts. The first is the exordium to Macrinus, which the poet confines within the compass of four verses: the second relates to the matter of the prayers and vows, and an enumeration of those things, wherein men commonly sinned against right reason, and offended in their requests: the third part consists in showing the repugnances of those prayers and wishes, to those of other men, and inconsistencies with themselves. He shows the original of these vows, and sharply inveighs against them; and, lastly, not only corrects the false opinion of mankind concerning them, but gives the true doctrine of all addresses made to heaven, and how they may be made acceptable to the powers above, in excellent precepts, and more worthy of a Christian than a Heathen._

Let this auspicious morning be exprest With a white stone,[195] distinguished from the rest, White as thy fame, and as thy honour clear, And let new joys attend on thy new added year. Indulge thy genius, and o'erflow thy soul, Till thy wit sparkle, like the cheerful bowl. Pray; for thy prayers the test of heaven will bear, Nor need'st thou take the gods aside to hear; While others, even the mighty men of Rome, Big swelled with mischief, to the temples come, And in low murmurs, and with costly smoke, Heaven's help to prosper their black vows, invoke: So boldly to the gods mankind reveal What from each other they, for shame, conceal. Give me good fame, ye powers, and make me just; Thus much the rogue to public ears will trust: In private then,--When wilt thou, mighty Jove; My wealthy uncle from this world remove? Or, O thou Thunderer's son, great Hercules, That once thy bounteous deity would please To guide my rake upon the chinking sound Of some vast treasure, hidden under ground![196] O were my pupil fairly knocked o' the head, I should possess the estate if he were dead! He's so far gone with rickets, and with the evil, That one small dose would send him to the devil. This is my neighbour Nerius his third spouse, Of whom in happy time he rids his house; But my eternal wife!--Grant, heaven, I may Survive to see the fellow of this day! Thus, that thou may'st the better bring about Thy wishes, thou art wickedly devout; In Tyber ducking thrice, by break of day, To wash the obscenities of night away.[197] But, pr'ythee, tell me, ('tis a small request,) With what ill thoughts of Jove art thou possest? Wouldst thou prefer him to some man? Suppose I dipped among the worst, and Staius chose? Which of the two would thy wise head declare The trustier tutor to an orphan heir? Or, put it thus:--Unfold to Staius, straight, What to Jove's ear thou didst impart of late: He'll stare, and O, good Jupiter! will cry, Canst thou indulge him in this villainy? And think'st thou Jove himself with patience then Can hear a prayer condemned by wicked men? That, void of care, he lolls supine in state, And leaves his business to be done by fate, Because his thunder splits some burly tree, And is not darted at thy house and thee; Or that his vengeance falls not at the time, Just at the perpetration of thy crime, And makes thee a sad object of our eyes, Fit for Ergenna's prayer and sacrifice?[198] What well-fed offering to appease the God, What powerful present to procure a nod, Hast thou in store? What bribe hast thou prepared, To pull him, thus unpunished, by the beard? Our superstitions with our life begin;[199] The obscene old grandam, or the next of kin, The new-born infant from the cradle takes, And, first, of spittle a lustration makes; Then in the spawl her middle-finger dips, Anoints the temples, forehead, and the lips, Pretending force of magic to prevent, By virtue of her nasty excrement; Then dandles him with many a muttered prayer, That heaven would make him some rich miser's heir, Lucky to ladies, and in time a king; Which to ensure, she adds a length of navel-string. But no fond nurse is fit to make a prayer, And Jove, if Jove be wise, will never hear; Not though she prays in white, with lifted hands. A body made of brass the crone demands For her loved nursling, strung with nerves of wire, Tough to the last, and with no toil to tire; Unconscionable vows, which, when we use, We teach the gods, in reason, to refuse. Suppose they were indulgent to thy wish, Yet the fat entrails in the spacious dish Would stop the grant; the very over-care And nauseous pomp, would hinder half the prayer. Thou hop'st with sacrifice of oxen slain To compass wealth, and bribe the god of gain To give thee flocks and herds, with large increase; Fool! to expect them from a bullock's grease! And think'st that when the fattened flames aspire, Thou see'st the accomplishment of thy desire! Now, now, my bearded harvest gilds the plain, } The scanty folds can scarce my sheep contain, } And showers of gold come pouring in amain! } Thus dreams the wretch, and vainly thus dreams on, Till his lank purse declares his money gone. Should I present them with rare figured plate, Or gold as rich in workmanship as weight; O how thy rising heart would throb and beat, And thy left side, with trembling pleasure, sweat! Thou measur'st by thyself the powers divine; Thy gods are burnished gold, and silver is their shrine. The puny godlings of inferior race, Whose humble statues are content with brass, Should some of these, in visions purged from phlegm, Foretel events, or in a morning dream;[200] Even those thou would'st in veneration hold, And, if not faces, give them beards of gold. The priests in temples now no longer care For Saturn's brass,[201] or Numa's earthen ware;[202] Or vestal urns, in each religious rite; This wicked gold has put them all to flight. O souls, in whom no heavenly fire is found, Fat minds, and ever grovelling on the ground! We bring our manners to the blest abodes, And think what pleases us must please the gods. Of oil and cassia one the ingredients takes, And, of the mixture, a rich ointment makes; Another finds the way to dye in grain, And makes Calabrian wool[203] receive the Tyrian stain; Or from the shells their orient treasure takes, Or for their golden ore in rivers rakes, Then melts the mass. All these are vanities, Yet still some profit from their pains may rise: But tell me, priest, if I may be so bold, What are the gods the better for this gold? The wretch, that offers from his wealthy store These presents, bribes the powers to give him more; As maids to Venus offer baby-toys,[204] To bless the marriage-bed with girls and boys. But let us for the gods a gift prepare, Which the great man's great chargers cannot bear; A soul, where laws, both human and divine, In practice more than speculation shine; A genuine virtue, of a vigorous kind, Pure in the last recesses of the mind: When with such offerings to the gods I come, A cake, thus given, is worth a hecatomb.[205]

FOOTNOTES:

[195] Note I.

[196] Note II.

[197] Note III.

[198] Note IV.

[199] Note V.

[200] Note VI.

[201] Note VII.

[202] Note VIII.

[203] Note IX.

[204] Note X.

[205] Note XI.

NOTES

ON

TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS.

SATIRE II.

Note I.

_Let this auspicious morning be exprest With a white stone._----P. 222.

The Romans were used to mark their fortunate days, or any thing that luckily befel them, with a white stone, which they had from the island Creta, and their unfortunate with a coal.

Note II.

----_Great Hercules, That once thy bounteous deity would please To guide my rake upon the chinking sound Of some vast treasure, hidden under ground._--P. 222.

Hercules was thought to have the key and power of bestowing all hidden treasure.

Note III.

_In Tyber ducking thrice, by break of day, To wash the obscenities of night away._--P. 223.

The ancients thought themselves tainted and polluted by night itself, as well as bad dreams in the night; and therefore purified themselves by washing their heads and hands every morning, which custom the Turks observe to this day.

Note IV.

_Fit for Ergenna's prayer and sacrifice_.--P. 223.

When any one was thunderstruck, the soothsayer (who is here called Ergenna) immediately repaired to the place, to expiate the displeasure of the gods, by sacrificing two sheep.

Note V.

_Our superstitions with our life begin_.--P. 223.

The poet laughs at the superstitious ceremonies which the old women made use of in their lustration, or purification days, when they named their children, which was done on the eighth day to females, and on the ninth to males.

Note VI.

_Should some of these, in visions purged from phlegm, Foretel events, or in a morning dream._--P. 225.