Part 20

Whoe'er thou art, whose forward years are bent On state affairs, to guide the government; Hear first what Socrates[220] of old has said To the loved youth, whom he at Athens bred. Tell me, thou pupil to great Pericles, Our second hope, my Alcibiades,[221] What are the grounds from whence thou dost prepare To undertake, so young, so vast a care? Perhaps thy wit; (a chance not often heard, That parts and prudence should prevent the beard;) 'Tis seldom seen, that senators so young Know when to speak, and when to hold their tongue. Sure thou art born to some peculiar fate, When the mad people rise against the state, To look them into duty, and command An awful silence with thy lifted hand; Then to bespeak them thus:--Athenians, know Against right reason all your counsels go; This is not fair, nor profitable that, Nor t'other question proper for debate.-- But thou, no doubt, can'st set the business right, And give each argument its proper weight; Know'st, with an equal hand, to hold the scale; } Seest where the reasons pinch, and where they fail, } And where exceptions o'er the general rule prevail; } And, taught by inspiration, in a trice, Can'st punish crimes,[222] and brand offending vice. Leave, leave to fathom such high points as these, Nor be ambitious, e'er thy time, to please, Unseasonably wise; till age and cares Have formed thy soul to manage great affairs. Thy face, thy shape, thy outside, are but vain; } Thou hast not strength such labours to sustain; } Drink hellebore,[223] my boy; drink deep, and purge thy brain. } What aim'st thou at, and whither tends thy care, } In what thy utmost good? Delicious fare; } And then, to sun thyself in open air. } Hold, hold; are all thy empty wishes such? A good old woman would have said as much. But thou art nobly born: 'tis true; go boast Thy pedigree, the thing thou valuest most: Besides, thou art a beau; what's that, my child? A fop, well drest, extravagant, and wild: She that cries herbs, has less impertinence, And in her calling more of common sense. None, none descends into himself, to find The secret imperfections of his mind; But every one is eagle-eyed, to see Another's faults, and his deformity. Say, dost thou know Vectidius?[224]--Who? the wretch Whose lands beyond the Sabines largely stretch; Cover the country, that a sailing kite Can scarce o'er fly them in a day and night; Him dost thou mean, who, spite of all his store, Is ever craving, and will still be poor? Who cheats for half-pence, and who doffs his coat, To save a farthing in a ferry-boat? Ever a glutton at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost? Who eats and drinks with his domestic slaves, A verier hind than any of his knaves? Born with the curse and anger of the gods, And that indulgent genius he defrauds? At harvest-home, and on the shearing-day, When he should thanks to Pan and Pales pay, And better Ceres,[225] trembling to approach The little barrel, which he fears to broach; He 'says the wimble, often draws it back, And deals to thirsty servants but a smack. To a short meal he makes a tedious grace, Before the barley-pudding comes in place: Then bids fall on; himself, for saving charges, A peeled sliced onion eats, and tipples verjuice.-- Thus fares the drudge: but thou, whose life's a dream Of lazy pleasures, takest a worse extreme. 'Tis all thy business, business how to shun; To bask thy naked body in the sun; Suppling thy stiffened joints with fragrant oil: Then, in thy spacious garden walk a while, To suck the moisture up, and soak it in; And this, thou think'st, but vainly think'st, unseen. But know, thou art observed; and there are those, Who, if they durst, would all thy secret sins expose; The depilation of thy modest part; } Thy catamite, the darling of thy heart, } His engine-hand, and every lewder art, } When, prone to bear, and patient to receive, Thou tak'st the pleasure which thou canst not give. With odorous oil thy head and hair are sleek, And then thou kemb'st the tuzzes on thy cheek; Of these thy barbers take a costly care, While thy salt tail is overgrown with hair. Not all thy pincers, nor unmanly arts, Can smooth the roughness of thy shameful parts. Not five, the strongest that the Circus breeds,[226] From the rank soil can root those wicked weeds, Though suppled first with soap, to ease thy pain; The stubborn fern springs up, and sprouts again. Thus others we with defamations wound, While they stab us, and so the jest goes round. Vain are thy hopes, to 'scape censorious eyes; Truth will appear through all the thin disguise: Thou hast an ulcer which no leach can heal, Though thy broad shoulder-belt the wound conceal. Say thou art sound and hale in every part, We know, we know thee rotten at thy heart. We know thee sullen, impotent, and proud: Nor canst thou cheat thy nerve, who cheat'st the crowd.-- But when they praise me in the neighbourhood, When the pleased people take me for a god, Shall I refuse their incense? Not receive The loud applauses which the vulgar give?-- If thou dost wealth with longing eyes behold, And greedily art gaping after gold; If some alluring girl, in gliding by, } Shall tip the wink, with a lascivious eye, } And thou, with a consenting glance, reply; } If thou thy own solicitor become, And bidst arise the lumpish pendulum; If thy lewd lust provokes an empty storm, And prompts to more than nature can perform; If, with thy guards, thou scour'st the streets by night, And dost in murders, rapes, and spoils delight;[227] Please not thyself, the flattering crowd to hear, 'Tis fulsome stuff to feed thy itching ear. Reject the nauseous praises of the times; Give thy base poets back their cobled rhimes: Survey thy soul, not what thou dost appear, But what thou art, and find the beggar there.[228]

FOOTNOTES:

[219] The compliment, at the opening of the Pharsalia, has been thought sarcastic. It certainly sounds so in modern ears: if Nero could only attain empire by civil war, as the gods by that of the giants, then says the poet,

----_Scelera ipsa nefasque Hac mercede placent_.----

[220] Note I.

[221] Note II.

[222] Note III.

[223] Note IV.

[224] Note V.

[225] Note VI.

[226] Note VII.

[227] Note VIII.

[228] Note IX.

NOTES

ON

TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS.

SATIRE IV.

Note I.

_Socrates._--P. 243.

Socrates, whom the oracle of Delphos praised as the wisest man of his age, lived in the time of the Peloponnesian war. He, finding the uncertainty of natural philosophy, applied himself wholly to the moral. He was master to Xenophon and Plato, and to many of the Athenian young noblemen; amongst the rest to Alcibiades, the most lovely youth then living; afterwards a famous captain, whose life is written by Plutarch.

Note II.

_Tell me, thou pupil to great Pericles, Our second hope, my Alcibiades._--P. 243.

Pericles was tutor, or rather overseer, of the will of Clinias, father to Alcibiades. While Pericles lived, who was a wise man, and an excellent orator, as well as a great general, the Athenians had the better of the war.

Note III.

_Can'st punish crimes._--P. 244.

That is, by death. When the judges would condemn a malefactor, they cast their votes into an urn; as, according to the modern custom, a balloting-box. If the suffrages were marked with #Theta#, they signified the sentence of death to the offender; as being the first letter of #Thanatos#, which, in English, is death.

Note IV.

_Drink hellebore._--P. 244.

The poet would say, that such an ignorant young man, as he here describes, is fitter to be governed himself than to govern others. He therefore advises him to drink hellebore, which purges the brain.

Note V.

_Say, dost thou know Vectidius?_--P. 245.

The name of Vectidius is here used appellatively, to signify any rich covetous man, though perhaps there might be a man of that name then living. I have translated this passage paraphrastically, and loosely; and leave it for those to look on, who are not unlike the picture.

Note VI.

_When he should thanks to Pan and Pales pay, And better Ceres._--P. 245.

Pan, the god of shepherds, and Pales, the goddess presiding over rural affairs; whom Virgil invocates in the beginning of his second Georgic. I give the epithet of _better_ to Ceres, because she first taught the use of corn for bread, as the poets tell us; men, in the first rude ages, feeding only on acorns, or mast, instead of bread.

Note VII.

_Not five, the strongest that the Circus breeds._--P. 246.

The learned Holyday (who has made us amends for his bad poetry in this and the rest of these satires, with his excellent illustrations), here tells us, from good authority, that the number five does not allude to the five fingers of one man, but to five strong men, such as were skilful in the five robust exercises then in practice at Rome, and were performed in the circus, or public place ordained for them. These five he reckons up in this manner: 1. The Cæstus, or Whirlbatts, described by Virgil in his fifth Æneid; and this was the most dangerous of all the rest. The 2d was the foot-race. The 3d, the discus; like the throwing a weighty ball; a sport now used in Cornwall, and other parts of England; we may see it daily practised in Red-Lyon Fields. The 4th, was the Saltus, or Leaping; and the 5th, wrestling naked, and besmeared with oil. They who practised in these five manly exercises were called #Pentathloi#.

Note VIII.

_If, with thy guards, thou scour'st the streets by night, And dost in murders, rapes, and spoils, delight._--P. 247.

Persius durst not have been so bold with Nero as I dare now; and therefore there is only an intimation of that in him which I publicly speak: I mean, of Nero's walking the streets by night in disguise, and committing all sorts of outrages, for which he was sometimes well beaten.

Note IX.

_Not what thou dost appear, But what thou art, and find the beggar there._--P. 247.

Look into thyself, and examine thy own conscience; there thou shalt find, that, how wealthy soever thou appearest to the world, yet thou art but a beggar; because thou art destitute of all virtues, which are the riches of the soul. This also was a paradox of the Stoic school.

THE

FIFTH SATIRE

OF

PERSIUS.

INSCRIBED TO

THE REV. DR BUSBY.

THE SPEAKERS

PERSIUS AND CORNUTUS.

THE ARGUMENT.

_The judicious Casaubon, in his proem to this Satire, tells us, that Aristophanes, the grammarian, being asked, what poem of Archilochus' Iambics he preferred before the rest; answered, the longest. His answer may justly be applied to this Fifth Satire; which, being of a greater length than any of the rest, is also by far the most instructive. For this reason I have selected it from all the others, and inscribed it to my learned master, Dr Busby; to whom I am not only obliged myself for the best part of my own education, and that of my two sons; but have also received from him the first and truest taste of Persius. May he be pleased to find, in this translation, the gratitude, or at least some small acknowledgment, of his unworthy scholar, at the distance of forty-two years from the time when I departed from under his tuition. This Satire consists of two distinct parts: The first contains the praises of the stoic philosopher, Cornutus, master and tutor to our Persius; it also declares the love and piety of Persius to his well-deserving master; and the mutual friendship which continued betwixt them, after Persius was now grown a man; as also his exhortation to young noblemen, that they would enter themselves into his institution. From hence he makes an artful transition into the second part of his subject; wherein he first complains of the sloth of scholars, and afterwards persuades them to the pursuit of their true liberty. Here our author excellently treats that paradox of the Stoics, which affirms, that the wise or virtuous man is only free, and that all vicious men are naturally slaves; and, in the illustration of this dogma, he takes up the remaining part of this inimitable Satire._

PERSIUS.

Of ancient use to poets it belongs, To wish themselves an hundred mouths and tongues: Whether to the well-lunged tragedian's rage They recommend their labours of the stage, Or sing the Parthian, when transfixed he lies, Wrenching the Roman javelin from his thighs.

CORNUTUS.

And why would'st thou these mighty morsels chuse, Of words unchewed, and fit to choke the muse? Let fustian poets with their stuff begone, And suck the mists that hang o'er Helicon; When Progne,[229] or Thyestes'[230] feast they write; And, for the mouthing actor, verse indite. Thou neither like a bellows swell'st thy face, As if thou wert to blow the burning mass Of melting ore; nor canst thou strain thy throat, Or murmur in an undistinguished note, Like rolling thunder, till it breaks the cloud, And rattling nonsense is discharged aloud. Soft elocution does thy style renown, And the sweet accents of the peaceful gown: Gentle or sharp, according to thy choice, To laugh at follies, or to lash at vice. Hence draw thy theme, and to the stage permit Raw-head and bloody-bones, and hands and feet, Ragouts for Tereus or Thyestes drest; 'Tis task enough for thee t' expose a Roman feast.

PERSIUS.

'Tis not, indeed, my talent to engage In lofty trifles, or to swell my page With wind and noise; but freely to impart, As to a friend, the secrets of my heart, And, in familiar speech, to let thee know How much I love thee, and how much I owe. Knock on my heart; for thou hast skill to find } If it sound solid, or be filled with wind; } And, through the veil of words, thou view'st the naked mind. } For this a hundred voices I desire, To tell thee what an hundred tongues would tire, Yet never could be worthily exprest,-- How deeply thou art seated in my breast. When first my childish robe[231] resigned the charge, And left me, unconfined, to live at large; When now my golden bulla (hung on high } To household gods) declared me past a boy, } And my white shield proclaimed my liberty;[232] } When, with my wild companions, I could roll From street to street, and sin without controul; Just at that age, when manhood set me free, I then deposed myself, and left the reins to thee; On thy wise bosom I reposed my head, And by my better Socrates was bred.[233] Then thy straight rule set virtue in my sight, The crooked line reforming by the right. My reason took the bent of thy command, Was formed and polished by thy skilful hand; Long summer-days thy precepts I rehearse, And winter-nights were short in our converse; One was our labour, one was our repose, One frugal supper did our studies close. Sure on our birth some friendly planet shone; And, as our souls, our horoscope[234] was one: Whether the mounting Twins[235] did heaven adorn, Or with the rising Balance[236] we were born; Both have the same impressions from above. And both have Saturn's rage, repelled by Jove.[237] What star I know not, but some star, I find, Has given thee an ascendant o'er my mind.

CORNUTUS.

Nature is ever various in her frame; Each has a different will, and few the same. The greedy merchants, led by lucre, run To the parched Indies, and the rising sun; From thence hot pepper and rich drugs they bear, Bartering for spices their Italian ware; The lazy glutton, safe at home, will keep, Indulge his sloth, and batten with his sleep: One bribes for high preferments in the state; A second shakes the box, and sits up late; Another shakes the bed, dissolving there, Till knots upon his gouty joints appear, And chalk is in his crippled fingers found; Rots, like a doddered oak, and piecemeal falls to ground; Then his lewd follies he would late repent, And his past years, that in a mist were spent.

PERSIUS.

But thou art pale in nightly studies grown, To make the Stoic institutes thy own:[238] Thou long, with studious care, hast tilled our youth, And sown our well-purged ears with wholesome truth. From thee both old and young with profit learn } The bounds of good and evil to discern. }

CORNUTUS.

Unhappy he who does this work adjourn, } And to to-morrow would the search delay; His lazy morrow will be like to-day.

PERSIUS.

But is one day of ease too much to borrow?

CORNUTUS.

Yes, sure; for yesterday was once to-morrow. That yesterday is gone, and nothing gained, And all thy fruitless days will thus be drained; For thou hast more to-morrows yet to ask, And wilt be ever to begin thy task; Who, like the hindmost chariot-wheels, art curst, Still to be near, but ne'er to reach the first. O freedom, first delight of human kind! Not that which bondmen from their masters find, The privilege of doles;[239] nor yet to inscribe Their names in this or t'other Roman tribe;[240] That false enfranchisement with ease is found, Slaves are made citizens by turning round.[241] How, replies one, can any be more free? Here's Dama, once a groom of low degree, Not worth a farthing, and a sot beside, So true a rogue, for lying's sake he lied; But, with a turn, a freeman he became, Now Marcus Dama is his worship's name.[242] Good gods! who would refuse to lend a sum, If wealthy Marcus surety will become! Marcus is made a judge, and for a proof Of certain truth, "He said it," is enough. A will is to be proved;--put in your claim;-- 'Tis clear, if Marcus has subscribed his name.[243] This is true liberty, as I believe; } What farther can we from our caps receive, } Than as we please without controul to live?[244] } Not more to noble Brutus[245] could belong. Hold, says the Stoic, your assumption's wrong: I grant true freedom you have well defined: } But, living as you list, and to your mind, } Are loosely tacked, and must be left behind.-- } What! since the prætor did my fetters loose, And left me freely at my own dispose, May I not live without controul or awe, Excepting still the letter of the law?--[246] Hear me with patience, while thy mind I free From those fond notions of false liberty: 'Tis not the prætor's province to bestow } True freedom; nor to teach mankind to know } What to ourselves, or to our friends, we owe. } He could not set thee free from cares and strife, Nor give the reins to a lewd vicious life: As well he for an ass a harp might string, Which is against the reason of the thing; For reason still is whispering in your ear, Where you are sure to fail, the attempt forbear. No need of public sanctions this to bind, } Which nature has implanted in the mind,-- } Not to pursue the work, to which we're not designed. } Unskilled in hellebore, if thou should'st try } To mix it, and mistake the quantity, } The rules of physic would against thee cry. } The high-shoe'd ploughman, should he quit the land, } To take the pilot's rudder in his hand, } Artless of stars, and of the moving sand, } No need of public sanctions this to bind, } Which nature has implanted in the mind,-- } Not to pursue the work, to which we're not designed. } Unskilled in hellebore, if thou should'st try } To mix it, and mistake the quantity, } The rules of physic would against thee cry. } The high-shoe'd ploughman, should he quit the land, } To take the pilot's rudder in his hand, } Artless of stars, and of the moving sand, } The gods would leave him to the waves and wind, And think all shame was lost in human kind. Tell me, my friend, from whence had'st thou the skill, So nicely to distinguish good from ill? Or by the sound to judge of gold and brass, What piece is tinkers' metal, what will pass? And what thou art to follow, what to fly, This to condemn, and that to ratify? When to be bountiful, and when to spare, But never craving, or oppressed with care? The baits of gifts, and money to despise, And look on wealth with undesiring eyes? When thou canst truly call these virtues thine, Be wise and free, by heaven's consent and mine. But thou, who lately of the common strain Wert one of us, if still thou dost retain The same ill habits, the same follies too, Glossed over only with a saint-like show, Then I resume the freedom which I gave; Still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave. Thou canst not wag thy finger, or begin "The least light motion, but it tends to sin." How's this? Not wag my finger, he replies? } No, friend; nor fuming gums, nor sacrifice, } Can ever make a madman free, or wise. } "Virtue and vice are never in one soul; A man is wholly wise, or wholly is a fool."[247] A heavy bumpkin, taught with daily care, Can never dance three steps with a becoming air.

PERSIUS.

In spite of this, my freedom still remains.

CORNUTUS.