Part 21

Free! what, and fettered with so many chains? Canst thou no other master understand Than him that freed thee by the prætor's wand?[248] Should he, who was thy lord, command thee now, With a harsh voice, and supercilious brow, To servile duties, thou would'st fear no more; The gallows and the whip are out of door. But if thy passions lord it in thy breast, Art thou not still a slave, and still opprest? Whether alone, or in thy harlot's lap, When thou would'st take a lazy morning's nap, Up, up, says Avarice;--thou snor'st again, Stretchest thy limbs, and yawn'st, but all in vain; The tyrant Lucre no denial takes; At his command the unwilling sluggard wakes. What must I do? he cries:--What? says his lord; Why rise, make ready, and go straight aboard; With fish, from Euxine seas, thy vessel freight; Flax, castor, Coan wines, the precious weight Of pepper, and Sabæan incense, take, } With thy own hands, from the tired camel's back, } And with post haste thy running markets make. } Be sure to turn the penny; lie and swear, 'Tis wholesome sin:--but Jove, thou say'st, will hear:-- Swear, fool, or starve; for the dilemma's even: A tradesman thou, and hope to go to heaven! Resolved for sea, the slaves thy baggage pack, Each saddled with his burden on his back; Nothing retards thy voyage now, unless Thy other lord forbids, Voluptuousness: And he may ask this civil question,--Friend, What dost thou make a shipboard? to what end? Art thou of Bethlem's noble college free, Stark, staring mad, that thou would'st tempt the sea? Cubbed in a cabin, on a mattress laid, On a brown george, with lousy swobbers fed, Dead wine, that stinks of the borrachio, sup From a foul jack,[249] or greasy maple-cup? Say, would'st thou bear all this, to raise thy store From six i'the hundred, to six hundred more? Indulge, and to thy genius freely give; For, not to live at ease, is not to live; Death stalks behind thee, and each flying hour Does some loose remnant of thy life devour. Live, while thou liv'st; for death will make us all A name, a nothing but an old wife's tale. Speak; wilt thou Avarice, or Pleasure, chuse To be thy lord? Take one, and one refuse. But both by turns the rule of thee will have, And thou betwixt them both wilt be a slave. Nor think when once thou hast resisted one, That all thy marks of servitude are gone: The struggling grey-hound gnaws his leash in vain; If, when 'tis broken, still he drags the chain. Says Phædria to his man,[250] Believe me, friend, To this uneasy love I'll put an end: Shall I run out of all? My friends' disgrace, And be the first lewd unthrift of my race? Shall I the neighbours nightly rest invade At her deaf doors, with some vile serenade?-- Well hast thou freed thyself, his man replies, Go, thank the gods, and offer sacrifice.-- Ah, says the youth, if we unkindly part, Will not the poor fond creature break her heart?-- Weak soul! and blindly to destruction led! She break her heart! she'll sooner break your head. She knows her man, and when you rant and swear, Can draw you to her with a single hair.-- But shall I not return? Now, when she sues! Shall I my own and her desires refuse?-- Sir, take your course; but my advice is plain: Once freed, 'tis madness to resume your chain. Ay; there's the man, who, loosed from lust and pelf, Less to the prætor owes than to himself. But write him down a slave, who, humbly proud, With presents begs preferments from the crowd;[251] That early suppliant, who salutes the tribes, And sets the mob to scramble for his bribes, That some old dotard, sitting in the sun, On holidays may tell, that such a feat was done: In future times this will be counted rare. Thy superstition too may claim a share: When flowers are strewed, and lamps in order placed, And windows with illuminations graced, On Herod's day;[252] when sparkling bowls go round, And tunny's tails in savoury sauce are drowned, Thou mutter'st prayers obscene; nor dost refuse The fasts and sabbaths of the curtailed Jews. Then a cracked egg-shell thy sick fancy frights,[253] Besides the childish fear of walking sprites. Of o'ergrown gelding priests thou art afraid; The timbrel, and the squintifego maid Of Isis, awe thee; lest the gods for sin, Should with a swelling dropsy stuff thy skin: Unless three garlic heads the curse avert, Eaten each morn devoutly next thy heart. Preach this among the brawny guards, say'st thou, And see if they thy doctrine will allow: The dull, fat captain, with a hound's deep throat, Would bellow out a laugh in a bass note, And prize a hundred Zeno's just as much As a clipt sixpence, or a schilling Dutch.

FOOTNOTES:

[229] Note I.

[230] Note II.

[231] Note III.

[232] Note IV.

[233] Note V.

[234] Note VI.

[235] Gemini.

[236] Libra.

[237] Note VII.

[238] Note VIII.

[239] Note IX.

[240] Note X.

[241] Note XI.

[242] Note XII.

[243] Note XIII.

[244] Note XIV.

[245] Note XV.

[246] Note XVI.

[247] Note XVII.

[248] Note XVIII.

[249] A leathern pitcher, called a black jack, used by our homely ancestors for quaffing their ale. E.

[250] Note XIX.

[251] Note XX.

[252] Note XXI.

[253] Note XXII.

NOTES

ON

TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS.

SATIRE V.

Note I.

_Progne._--P. 252.

Progne was wife to Tereus, king of Thracia. Tereus fell in love with Philomela, sister to Progne, ravished her, and cut out her tongue; in revenge of which, Progne killed Itys, her own son by Tereus, and served him up at a feast, to be eaten by his father.

Note II.

_Thyestes._--P. 252.

Thyestes and Atreus were brothers, both kings. Atreus, to revenge himself of his unnatural brother, killed the sons of Thyestes, and invited him to eat them.

Note III.

_When first my childish robe resigned the charge._--P. 253.

By the childish robe, is meant the Proetexta, or first gowns which the Roman children of quality wore. These were welted with purple; and on those welts were fastened the bullæ, or little bells; which, when they came to the age of puberty, were hung up, and consecrated to the Lares, or Household Gods.

Note IV.

_And my white shield proclaimed my liberty._--P. 253.

The first shields which the Roman youths wore were white, and without any impress or device on them, to shew they had yet achieved nothing in the wars.

Note V.

_And by my better Socrates was bred._--P. 253.

Socrates, by the oracle, was declared to be the wisest of mankind: he instructed many of the Athenian young noblemen in morality, and amongst the rest Alcibiades.

Note VI.

_Sure on our birth some friendly planet shone; And, as our souls, our horoscope was one._--P. 254.

Astrologers divide the heaven into twelve parts, according to the number of the twelve signs of the zodiac. The sign, or constellation, which rises in the east at the birth of any man, is called the Ascendant: Persius therefore judges, that Cornutus and he had the same, or a like nativity.

Note VII.

_And both have Saturn's rage, repelled by Jove._--P. 254.

Astrologers have an axiom, that whatsoever Saturn ties is loosed by Jupiter. They account Saturn to be a planet of a malevolent nature, and Jupiter of a propitious influence.

Note VIII.

_The Stoic institutes._--P. 255.

Zeno was the great master of the Stoic philosophy; and Cleanthes was second to him in reputation. Cornutus, who was master or tutor to Persius, was of the same school.

Note IX.

_Not that which bondmen from their masters find, The privilege of doles._--P. 255.

When a slave was made free, he had the privilege of a Roman born, which was to have a share in the donatives, or doles of bread, &c. which were distributed by the magistrates among the people.

Note X.

----_Nor yet to inscribe Their names in this or t'other Roman tribe._--P. 255.

The Roman people was distributed into several tribes. He who was made free was enrolled into some one of them; and thereupon enjoyed the common privileges of a Roman citizen.

Note XI.

_Slaves are made citizens by turning round._--P. 255.

The master, who intended to enfranchize a slave, carried him before the city prætor, and turned him round, using these words, "I will that this man be free."

Note XII.

_Now Marcus Dama is his worship's name._--P. 256.

Slaves had only one name before their freedom; after it they were admitted to a prænomen, like our christened names: so Dama is now called Marcus Dama.

Note XIII.

_A will is to be proved;--put in your claim;-- 'Tis clear, if Marcus has subscribed his name._--P. 256.

At the proof of a testament, the magistrates were to subscribe their names, as allowing the legality of the will.

Note XIV.

_What farther can we from our caps receive, Than as we please without controul to live._--P. 256.

Slaves, when they were set free, had a cap given them, in sign of their liberty.

Note XV.

_Noble Brutus._--P. 256.

Brutus freed the Roman people from the tyranny of the Tarquins, and changed the form of the government into a glorious commonwealth.

Note XVI.

_Excepting still the letter of the law._--P. 256.

The text of the Roman laws was written in red letters, which was called the Rubric; translated here, in more general words, "The letter of the law."

Note XVII.

_Virtue and vice are never in one soul; A man is wholly wise, or wholly is a fool._--P. 257.

The Stoics held this paradox, that any one vice, or notorious folly, which they called madness, hindered a man from being virtuous; that a man was of a piece, without a mixture, either wholly vicious, or good; one virtue or vice, according to them, including all the rest.

Note XVIII.

----_Him that freed thee by the prætor's wand._--P. 258.

The prætor held a wand in his hand, with which he softly struck the slave on the head, when he declared him free.

Note XIX.

----_Says Phædria to his man._--P. 259.

This alludes to the play of Terence, called "The Eunuch;" which was excellently imitated of late in English, by Sir Charles Sedley.[254] In the first scene of that comedy, Phædria was introduced with his man, Pamphilus, discoursing, whether he should leave his mistress Thais, or return to her, now that she had invited him.

Note XX.

_But write him down a slave, who, humbly proud, With presents begs preferments from the crowd._--P. 260.

He who sued for any office amongst the Romans, was called a candidate, because he wore a white gown; and sometimes chalked it, to make it appear whiter. He rose early, and went to the levees of those who headed the people; saluted also the tribes severally, when they were gathered together to chuse their magistrates; and distributed a largess amongst them, to engage them for their voices; much resembling our elections of Parliamentmen.

Note XXI.

----_On Herod's day._--P. 260.

The commentators are divided what Herod this was, whom our author mentions; whether Herod the Great, whose birth-day might possibly be celebrated, after his death, by the Herodians, a sect amongst the Jews, who thought him their Messiah; or Herod Agrippa, living in the author's time, and after it. The latter seems the more probable opinion.

Note XXII.

_Then a cracked egg-shell thy sick fancy frights._--P. 260.

The ancients had a superstition, contrary to ours, concerning egg-shells: they thought, that if an egg-shell were cracked, or a hole bored in the bottom of it, they were subject to the power of sorcery. We as vainly break the bottom of an egg-shell, and cross it when we have eaten the egg, lest some hag should make use of it in bewitching us, or sailing over the sea in it, if it were whole. The rest of the priests of Isis, and her one-eyed or squinting priestess, is more largely treated in the sixth satire of Juvenal, where the superstitions of women are related.

FOOTNOTES:

[254] In the play called "Bellamira, or the Mistress."

THE

SIXTH SATIRE

OF

PERSIUS.

TO

CÆSIUS BASSUS,

A LYRIC POET.

THE ARGUMENT.

_This Sixth Satire treats an admirable common-place of moral philosophy, of the true use of riches. They are certainly intended by the Power who bestows them, as instruments and helps of living commodiously ourselves; and of administering to the wants of others, who are oppressed by fortune. There are two extremes in the opinions of men concerning them. One error, though on the right hand, yet a great one, is, that they are no helps to a virtuous life; the other places all our happiness in the acquisition and possession of them; and this is undoubtedly the worse extreme. The mean betwixt these, is the opinion of the Stoics, which is, that riches may be useful to the leading a virtuous life; in case we rightly understand how to give according to right reason, and how to receive what is given us by others. The virtue of giving well, is called liberality; and it is of this virtue that Persius writes in this satire, wherein he not only shows the lawful use of riches, but also sharply inveighs against the vices which are opposed to it; and especially of those, which consist in the defects of giving, or spending, or in the abuse of riches. He writes to Cæsius Bassus, his friend, and a poet also. Enquires first of his health and studies; and afterwards informs him of his own, and where he is now resident. He gives an account of himself, that he is endeavouring, by little and little, to wear off his vices; and, particularly, that he is combating ambition, and the desire of wealth. He dwells upon the latter vice; and being sensible, that few men either desire, or use, riches as they ought, he endeavours to convince them of their folly, which is the main design of the whole satire._

Has winter caused thee, friend, to change thy seat,[255] And seek in Sabine air a warm retreat? Say, dost thou yet the Roman harp command? Do the strings answer to thy noble hand? Great master of the muse, inspired to sing The beauties of the first created spring; The pedigree of nature to rehearse, And sound the Maker's work, in equal verse; Now sporting on thy lyre the loves of youth,[256] Now virtuous age, and venerable truth; Expressing justly Sappho's wanton art Of odes, and Pindar's more majestic part. For me, my warmer constitution wants More cold, than our Ligurian winter grants; And therefore to my native shores retired, I view the coast old Ennius once admired; Where clifts on either side their points display, } And, after opening in an ampler way, } Afford the pleasing prospect of the bay. } 'Tis worth your while, O Romans, to regard The port of Luna, says our learned bard; Who in a drunken dream beheld his soul The fifth within the transmigrating roll;[257] Which first a peacock, then Euphorbus was, } Then Homer next, and next Pythagoras; } And, last of all the line, did into Ennius pass. } Secure and free from business of the state, And more secure of what the vulgar prate, Here I enjoy my private thoughts, nor care What rots for sheep the southern winds prepare; Survey the neighbouring fields, and not repine, When I behold a larger crop than mine: To see a beggar's brat in riches flow, Adds not a wrinkle to my even brow; Nor, envious at the sight, will I forbear My plenteous bowl, nor bate my bounteous cheer; Nor yet unseal the dregs of wine that stink Of cask, nor in a nasty flaggon drink; Let others stuff their guts with homely fare, } For men of different inclinations are, } Though born perhaps beneath one common star. } In minds and manners twins opposed we see In the same sign, almost the same degree: One, frugal, on his birth-day fears to dine, } Does at a penny's cost in herbs repine, } And hardly dares to dip his fingers in the brine; } Prepared as priest of his own rites to stand, He sprinkles pepper with a sparing hand. His jolly brother, opposite in sense, } Laughs at his thrift; and, lavish of expence, } Quaffs, crams, and guttles, in his own defence. } For me, I'll use my own, and take my share, Yet will not turbots for my slaves prepare; Nor be so nice in taste myself to know If what I swallow be a thrush, or no. Live on thy annual income, spend thy store, } And freely grind from thy full threshing floor; } Next harvest promises as much, or more. } Thus I would live; but friendship's holy band, } And offices of kindness, hold my hand: } My friend is shipwrecked on the Brutian strand,[258] } His riches in the Ionian main are lost, And he himself stands shivering on the coast; Where, destitute of help, forlorn and bare, He wearies the deaf gods with fruitless prayer. Their images, the relics of the wreck, Torn from the naked poop, are tided back By the wild waves, and, rudely thrown ashore, Lie impotent, nor can themselves restore; The vessel sticks, and shews her opened side, And on her shattered mast the mews in triumph ride. From thy new hope, and from thy growing store, Now lend assistance, and relieve the poor;[259] Come, do a noble act of charity, A pittance of thy land will set him free. Let him not bear the badges of a wreck, Nor beg with a blue table on his back;[260] Nor tell me, that thy frowning heir will say, 'Tis mine that wealth thou squander'st thus away: What is't to thee, if he neglect thy urn? Or without spices lets thy body burn?[261] If odours to thy ashes he refuse, Or buys corrupted cassia from the Jews? All these, the wiser Bestius will reply, Are empty pomp, and dead-men's luxury: We never knew this vain expence before The effeminated Grecians brought it o'er: Now toys and trifles from their Athens come, And dates and pepper have unsinewed Rome. Our sweating hinds their sallads now defile, Infecting homely herbs with fragrant oil. But to thy fortune be not thou a slave; For what hast thou to fear beyond the grave? And thou, who gap'st for my estate, draw near; For I would whisper somewhat in thy ear. Hear'st thou the news, my friend? the express is come, With laurelled letters, from the camp to Rome: Cæsar salutes the queen and senate thus:-- My arms are on the Rhine victorious.[262] From mourning altars sweep the dust away, Cease fasting, and proclaim a fat thanksgiving-day. The goodly empress,[263] jollily inclined, Is to the welcome bearer wonderous kind; And, setting her good housewifery aside, Prepares for all the pageantry of pride. The captive Germans, of gigantic size,[264] Are ranked in order, and are clad in frize: The spoils of kings, and conquered camps we boast, Their arms in trophies hang on the triumphal post. Now for so many glorious actions done In foreign parts, and mighty battles won; For peace at home, and for the public wealth, I mean to crown a bowl to Cæsar's health. Besides, in gratitude for such high matters, Know I have vowed two hundred gladiators.[265] Say, would'st thou hinder me from this expence? I disinherit thee, if thou dar'st take offence. Yet more, a public largess I design Of oil and pies, to make the people dine; Controul me not, for fear I change my will. And yet methinks I hear thee grumbling still,-- You give as if you were the Persian king; Your land does not so large revenues bring. Well, on my terms thou wilt not be my heir? If thou car'st little, less shall be my care. Were none of all my father's sisters left; Nay, were I of my mother's kin bereft; None by an uncle's or a grandame's side, Yet I could some adopted heir provide. I need but take my journey half a day } From haughty Rome, and at Aricia stay, } Where fortune throws poor Manius in my way. } Him will I choose:--What him, of humble birth, Obscure, a foundling, and a son of earth-- Obscure! Why, pr'ythee, what am I? I know My father, grandsire, and great-grandsire too: If farther I derive my pedigree, I can but guess beyond the fourth degree. The rest of my forgotten ancestors Were sons of earth, like him, or sons of whores. Yet why should'st thou, old covetous wretch, aspire To be my heir, who might'st have been my sire? In nature's race, should'st thou demand of me My torch, when I in course run after thee?[266] Think I approach thee, like the god of gain, With wings on head and heels, as poets feign: Thy moderate fortune from my gift receive; Now fairly take it, or as fairly leave. But take it as it is, and ask no more-- What, when thou hast embezzled all thy store? Where's all thy father left?--'Tis true, I grant, Some I have mortgaged to supply my want: The legacies of Tadius too are flown, All spent, and on the self-same errand gone.-- How little then to my poor share will fall!-- Little indeed; but yet that little's all. Nor tell me, in a dying father's tone,-- Be careful still of the main chance, my son; Put out thy principal in trusty hands, Live on the use, and never dip thy lands: But yet what's left for me?--What's left, my friend! Ask that again, and all the rest I spend. Is not my fortune at my own command? Pour oil, and pour it with a plenteous hand Upon my sallads, boy: shall I be fed With sodden nettles, and a singed sow's head? 'Tis holiday, provide me better cheer; 'Tis holiday, and shall be round the year. Shall I my household gods and genius cheat, To make him rich, who grudges me my meat, That he may loll at ease, and, pampered high, When I am laid, may feed on giblet-pie, And, when his throbbing lust extends the vein, Have wherewithal his whores to entertain? Shall I in homespun cloth be clad, that he His paunch in triumph may before him see? Go, miser, go; for lucre sell thy soul; Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole, That men may say, when thou art dead and gone, See what a vast estate he left his son! How large a family of brawny knaves, Well fed, and fat as Cappadocian slaves![267] Increase thy wealth, and double all thy store; } 'Tis done; now double that, and swell the score; } To every thousand add ten thousand more. } Then say, Chrysippus,[268] thou who would'st confine Thy heap, where I shall put an end to mine.

FOOTNOTES:

[255] Note I.

[256] Note II.

[257] Note III.

[258] Note IV.

[259] Note V.

[260] Note VI.

[261] Note VII.

[262] Note VIII.

[263] Note IX.

[264] Note X.

[265] Note XI.

[266] Note XII.

[267] Note XIII.

[268] Note XIV.