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EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY

515
CLASSICAL

Everyman, I will go with thee, and be thy guide,
In thy most need to go by thy side

QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS, born
8th December 65 B.C. at Venusia, on the
borders of Apulia and Lucania. Studied at
Rome and Athens. Fought at the battle of
Philippi, 42 B.C. Became the protege of
Maecenas, who gave him a small property
in the Sabine Hills. Died in November,

8 B.C.

HORACE'S

COMPLETE WORKS

INTRODUCTION BY

DR JOHN MARSHALL

LONDON J. M. DENT & SONS LTD
NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON & CO INC

J. M. DENT & SONS LTD

Aldine House • Bedford Street • London

Made in Great Britain

The Aldine Press • Letchworth • Herts

First published in this edition 1911

Last reprinted 1953

K70I730

INTRODUCTION

IT is not proposed here to attempt an exhaustive life of
Horace; there are many details which are of no special
interest to an English reader. Rather it is desired to give
something of a picture of the man, and for that purpose to
draw almost exclusively on Horace himself. He has given
us various details of his own life in the Odes, but he gives a
much fuller picture of himself in his less elaborate and
ambitious works, his Satires (or Conversations, as he some-
times calls them) and his Letters, or Epistles as they are
officially called. These are written in a sort of verse, but
he does not pretend to rise much above conversational
prose in them; their merits are their perfect candour, their
shrewd common sense, their humour, their truth of view
concerning men and literature. Little more then will be
done here than to give, in the spirit rather than in the
letter, some extracts from these familiar works of Horace,
which will enable the reader to understand and, it is hoped,
to feel a kindly regard for Horace the man. It was part of
his design in these writings to let the world know all about
himself: in this, as he says (Sat. II. i. 27) he followed the
example of an older poet, whose works have not come
down to us, Lucilius. " There are many men in the world,"
he says, " ami just as many varieties of taste and ambition.
My own personal pleasure is to string words together in
verse, as Lucilius, a better man than you or I, did before
me. It was his way to tell all his secrets to his poems,
which he regarded as his trusty and faithful friends.
Whether things went well or ill with him, he always flew to
his own lines for sympathy. Thus it comes about that
the whole life of the old bard is there set down for all the
world to look at as in a picture."

We know from the Odes (III. xxi. i) that Horace was
born B.C. 65. From one of his Epistles, to be quoted later,
we know that the month was December, and an old bio-

vii

viii Horace

grapher states the day as the 8th. We know from various
references in his Satires and Epistles that his birthplace
was Venusia, an old Roman colony among the Apennine
Hills, which, standing as it did on the Appian Way, the
Great High Road from Rome to Brundisium and so to
Greece and the East, was regarded as a very important
stronghold ; and down to Horace's time it was a busy and
prosperous place. Through a gorge a few miles off, the
river Aufidus comes plunging down from the hills into a
broad plain, across which it slowly winds to the Adriatic
Sea, some fifteen miles distant. Horace frequently alludes
to the noisy rush of this river. Towering high a few miles
from the town is Mount Voltur, 4500 feet high, conical in
shape, and with an extinct crater, indicating its volcanic
origin. The hills behind the town are and were wild and
bare, save here and there where forests cover them; and
boars and other wild animals are still abundant.

His father, as we shall read further on, was a freedman,
i.e. he had been a slave, and therefore a foreigner, possibly
a Greek. Slaves were not infrequently manumitted by
their masters for good service; and what Horace tells of
his father makes such a reason for his liberation probable
enough. He must have been a man of some little educa-
tion, as he was a tax-collector by profession; he had at
least enough of education to make him wish for more, at
any rate for his son. He must have been a thrifty man,
for he managed to acquire a small farm, and to make such
savings as enabled him to do for his son what we shall hear
presently. Horace nowhere alludes specially to his mother ;
she probably died while he was an infant. We read of his
residing with a nurse, Pullia (if the reading is correct), in a
country place near Mount Voltur (Ode III. iv. 10), and of
his wandering off and falling asleep in the woods, where, to
the wonder of the country folks, he was found covered over
with laurel leaves, which the doves had dropped upon him.

If his father could not help young Horace in technical
learning, he early sought to train him by example and
precept to ways of prudence and virtue. As Horace says
(Sat. I. iv. 104): "If you find me rather free in my criti-
cisms of this one or that, if I am a little over-ready with my

Introduction ix

joke, you will have to thank my father for this. For it was
his way, if he wanted me to avoid any particular fault or
vice, to pick out this man or that whom, he knew to be
addicted to it, and show how it fared with them in conse-
quence. Or if he wanted to preach thrift or prudence to
me, or contentment with the little fortune he had managed
to put by for me, he would say: ' Look at Albius' son, what
a wretched life he leads: Just see Barrus, how poor he is
now. Let them be warnings to you not to throw away your
patrimony.' And so with other vices. ' The philosopher,'
he would say, ' will give you all sorts of theoretical
reasons why you should avoid this, or seek that. But I
shall be quite content, if I can keep the good old ways of
earlier times, and as long as you need some one to look
after you, if I can keep your life and honour stainless.
When time has hardened your muscles and your brain, you
will be free to swim without a cork.' Thus did he mould
my boyish mind with his wise words. . . . And so even
now, as I lie in bed, or stroll by myself, I am my own Mentor,
as I call to mind the ways and experiences of others, and
of myself."

In another place he tells us (Sat. I. vi. i ): " For whatever
of good there is in me, for whatever affection I have gained
from friends, my father alone must have the credit.
Though his little farm was poor enough, and his means but
scanty, he could not bear to send me to the provincial
school, to which the fine sons of our fine garrison officers
went, with their satchels and their note-books slung over
their arms, and their monthly fee in their pockets. But
while I was still a boy he had the courage to carry me to
Rome, so that I might get an education as good as any
knight or Senator could give his sons. If any one had
noticed my dress and my attendants, amidst the crowd of
a great city, he would have certainly imagined that some
old family estate must provide for such an outlay. But
my chief attendant was my own father, a guardian not to
be bribed or tricked by any one; and hfe trudged con-
tentedly along beside me as I went from one professor to
the next. And so he kept safe for me that first element of
goodness, a mind unstained not merely with deed of evil,
*5'5

x Horace

but with the very suspicion of it. Nor was he afraid lest
some day his extravagance might be cast up to him, if, after
all, I had to earn my living in some paltry office, or like
himself as a tax-collector. I at least should not have com-
plained, if that had been the end of it. But as things have
turned out, the more praise, the more gratitude I owe him.
I hope, as long as I keep my senses, I shall never blush for
such a father. Nor shall I seek to excuse my faults and
failings, as one hears many do, on the ground that I have
not had the advantages of birth. On the contrary, were the
choice given me to relive my life, and choose what parent-
age I pleased, I should still be content with my own, pre-
ferring it to any other, however illustrious in the world's
ranks and dignities."

Not content with such sacrifices as these, Horace's
father sent him to Athens, - - the intellectual centre, the
university of the world. There he studied at the fountain-
head Greek Science and Greek Philosophy: there, an
equal among equals, he mixed with other Roman youths
living a university life. While he was at Athens, Julius
Caesar was assassinated at Rome (B.C. 44), and the civil
wars broke out that were to end in the downfall of the
Republic, and the establishment of the Empire. The
cause of the Republic was popular with the young bloods
of the Athenian university, and when M. Junius Brutus,
the " Liberator " as he was called, visited Athens shortly
after the assassination, Horace among others was offered
and accepted a position as tribune in the army which
Brutus was collecting, to resist the party of Caesar's
avengers. Such a position (equal perhaps to our " colonel,"
if not to something higher) doubtless flattered Horace's
youthful vanity, but it suggests doubts as to Brutus's
prudence. For Horace was not only little, and some-
what of a weakling, but he tells us himself he was neither
fond of, nor fit for, fighting. At any rate he took his part
in marching and drilling in Thrace and elsewhere, till at
last the battle of Philippi (B.C. 42) crushed the hopes of the
Republicans, and ended the lives of Brutus and Cassius.
Horace himself tells us, humorously enough (Ode II. vii. 9),
of his own inglorious flight. He managed ere long to find

Introduction xi

his way back to Rome, as he himself puts it (Epist. II. ii.
49), " a miserable object with draggled wings, my father's
land and property all gone." His father had probably
died in the interval; and now that he was thrown on his
own resources, he was driven to write verses for a living.
There was a market then for literary wares; we know
from Horace himself that two brothers named Sosius were
his publishers, at least in later times. But as in our own
country in the early eighteenth century, the chief hope of
literary men was in the patronage of the great. Fortu-
nately for Horace, his poetry brought him the friendship
of the poet Virgil, and of the would-be poet Varius (see
Odes I. iii. and vi.), and through them he was introduced
to the great patron of letters, Maecenas, the chief political
adviser of Octavian, or as he came later to be called,
Augustus. Horace tells the story himself. In a Satire
addressed to Maecenas (I. vi. 45) he says: "Every one
carps at me ' the son of a freedman father.' Their present
reason for doing so is because you are kind to me, Maecenas ;
their former one, that I was given command of a Roman
legion. . . . For my friendship with you, I cannot give
the credit to luck. It was no mere chance that made
me known to you; it was my noble Virgil, and after him
Varius, who told you about me. When I came into your
presence, I managed to stammer out a word or two; a
dumb bashfulness would let me say no more. But at any
rate I did not talk to you of a high-born father, or of my
cantering round my estates on a Tarentine thoroughbred.
I told you just the plain facts. You answered, as you
usually do, very briefly, and I withdrew. Nine months
after you summoned me again, a^id bade me reckon myself
among your friends. And proud I am that I pleased a
man like yourself, one who measures the noble and the
ignoble, not by the rank of their father, but by their own
character and honesty of heart." This introduction took
place in B.C. 38. From that time Horace's position was
secure. Maecenas was wealthy and generous; and the
works written largely at his instigation, the Satires, the
Odes (i.-iii.), the first book of Epistles, all dedicated to
Maecenas, were, we mav be sure, liberally acknowledged.

xii Horace

With Maecenas he seems to have been a spectator of the
battle of Actium in B.C. 31 (Epod. i. and ix.), which finally
settled who should be the world's sovereign; and he had
already probably received from Maecenas the gift he most
valued, a little estate among the Sabine hills, not far from
Tibur.

In his Epistle I. xvi. he gives this description of the
place to a friend: " There is a range of hills, broken only
by a shady valley; not so shady however but that the
rising sun can shine on its right slope, and the setting sun
warm its left. The climate would delight you. Even the
sloes and ruddy cornels bear their fruits more abundantly
here than elsewhere; and the oaks and ilexes feed my
herds with their acorns, and rejoice me, the master, with
their shade. In fact you would imagine a slice of leafy
Tarentum had been transported hither. There is a spring
too, abundant enough to give name to a stream. Not
cooler or more clear the Hebrus winds through Thrace;
and its water is good for head troubles and stomach troubles
too. The pleasant, nay I can call them the quite delight-
ful nooks about it, keep me strong and well through the
September heats."

This little estate was within an ace of being the death of
him, when a tree suddenly fell and came near to crush its
owner (see Odes II. xiii. and xvii.). He has several semi-
humorous allusions to this escape which he classes with
his escape from Philippi, and another from shipwreck off
Palinurus (see III. iv. 28), as the three crowning mercies of
his life. If he was a poor soldier, he seems to have been a
worse sailor; he never has a good word to say of the sea,
except from the shore, and as viewed from a pleasant
watering-place, like Baiae or Tarentum. In fact, Horace
was in no way heroic as the world understands heroes; he
had bad eyes, and a poor stomach, and he, and Virgil too,
detested athletics and sport. When in the course of a
journey which they made with Maecenas and other great
folks, very humorously related in Sat. I. v., Maecenas and
the others went off to play tennis, Horace and Virgil went
off to bed.

Horace in short never pretended to be a fine gentleman,

Introduction xiii

and detested pomp and affectation. In Sat. I. vi., from
which we have already quoted, he gives as one reason why
he would decline, if the choice were offered him, to have a
grand family pedigree thrust upon him, the following :-
" For with this higher rank I should have to make more
money to keep it up. I should have to be civil to all
sorts of people. I should have to hire grooms and valets,
for fear I should ever be condemned to the dreadful fate
of a journey by myself. I should have to keep a stud of
horses, and carriages too. As it is, I am free to ride my
bob-tailed mule to Tarentum if I like all alone, with my
valise rubbing his crupper, and myself his shoulders. . . .
And at Rome I walk wherever I like ; I go into the market
and price my meal or my salad; I stroll round the Circus
to watch its quacks, or view the fun of the fair of an even-
ing in the Forum. Then after listening to the fortune-
tellers I dawdle home to my frugal meal of leeks and pulse
and pancakes. Finally I go to bed, with no thought to
worry me of early rising and an appointment at the courts.
I lie abed till ten; then take a walk, or read or scribble
some lines to please myself ; next, I brush myself up, and as
the day grows hot go off to my bath, but take very good
care to steer clear of the Campus Martius and its tennis-
courts. Then I have my little lunch, just enough to stay
the stomach, and for the rest of the afternoon take my
siesta in my own corner. That's the life of a man who
knows not the worries and the burdens of ambition; and
I'm well content with it; for I know that it will give me
more happiness than I could ever get out of the fact
(supposing it were a fact) that my father was a magistrate,
and my grandfather, and my uncle too for that matter."

His relations of friendship with Maecenas were not, how-
ever, without their drawbacks. As he says in Sat. II. vi.
40; " It is now some seven or nearer eight years since
Maecenas began to reckon me among his friends, at least
so far as to take me out with him when he was driving, and
to condescend to such trifling questions or remarks as
' What's o'clock! ' ' What are the odds on such and such a
boxer ? ' ' It's a chilly morning ' -the trifles in short which
a great man can entrust to a ' leaky ' listener. Meanwhile

xvi Horace

writer, one finds even in these earlier works many expres-
sions and illustrations of the better and more enjoyable
Horace: his humour, as in the postscript to Epode ii., in
Epode iii., in Satires iii., v., and ix. of the same book: his
patriotism, as in Epodes i., vii., and xvi. ; his love of country
life, as in Epode ii. ; and above all, his hope for Rome, and
for himself, through the rising greatness of Augustus, and,
with Augustus, of his own kind patron Maecenas, as in
Epodes i., ix., xiv., and in Satire vi.

The Epodes and this first book of Satires were published,
evidently under the patronage and personal sanction of
Maecenas, in B.C. 35, when Horace was thirty years of age.
The second book of Satires appeared some five years later.
In contains a set of somewhat lengthier and more elaborate
discourses on the luxury and insincerity of town-life, on
the charms of his own rural retreat, which had been given
him by Maecenas, on the qualities that constitute just
criticism in life or letters, with many a humorous touch,
throughout all his talk, of irony against himself, just as
readily as against anybody else.

Then in the peace and cheerfulness of an assured position,
with a home of his own in the country and a kindly winter-
nest in Rome, with powerful friends and a sufficient income,
Horace set himself to his magnum opus, his masterpiece,
the three books of Odes. They appeared together in B.C. 19,
and at some date not much later he published his Epistles.

Many of the Odes so-called are, in their primary purport,
poetical epistles, professedly written on the spur of the
moment in view of some pleasant or unpleasant event in
his own or a friend's life, just past or just about to be, and,
as a rule, Horace is at his best when he maintains this per-
sonal and impulsive note. It was of the essence of Horace's
temper to think, or at least to say, small things of himself,
his work, and all that concerned either as compared with
the grandiose performances and productions of more
ambitious doers and writers ; he was only a bee, he tells us
(Odes IV. ii. 27), flitting from flower to flower, to gather here
or there a little honey; but one bee-like quality he did
insist on, the most unwearied labour in the perfecting of his
little humble themes.

Introduction xvii

In B.C. 17, he wrote, to please the Emperor, a sort of
pageant poem called the " Saecular Hymn," to celebrate
officially the splendour of Rome's destiny under Augustus.
He was in fact the recognised poet-laureate of his time
and had now and then to write accordingly.

His closing works were a fourth book of Odes and three
Epistles, the last of which is named separately the " Art of
Poesy." This last was perhaps unfinished when Horace
died. In these final compositions he seems to gather up,
in somewhat sterner or at least more pensive mood, his
theories of life and the worth of life, of literature and what
is truly worth in literature, of friendship and love and
patriotism. Something of a farewell note echoes here and
there, as of one who had lived his life, and was quietly
waiting for the end.

Taking all these varied works as a whole, apart from the
accidents that suggested them individually, apart from
differences of method and metre and form, we shall recog-
nise in them the intrinsically real and sincere and personal
utterances of a true man's heart and conscience. They
are the expressions of an experience as varied as that of
most, showing vicissitudes of position and fortune from
almost the lowest to something not far from the highest.
They are uttered from a vantage-point at the very heart
and centre of a world's activities, and amidst the fierce
strain and stress of a revolution in the government of men
and in the social life of mankind, paralleled for its rapidity,
its thoroughness, and its results, only when we come down
to the days of Robespierre and Napoleon. The mightiest
republic of the world's history had just disappeared, the
mightiest empire, till our own, had just begun. Old re-
ligions had fallen, or were falling, to pieces in every land,
the first prophetic murmurings of a new one were already
faintly audible.

What wonder that the thoughts of the most genuine and
gifted and sensitive spirit of such a time, clothed as they
were in words of unequalled pregnancy and power, should
have interlaced themselves, as proverbs do, in the thought
and language of almost all the thoughtful men of later ages,

xviii Horace

so that Horace has become and remains one of the most
quoted men in literature ?

As a matter of fact, the circumstances of Horace's life and
experience were in many of their most important aspects
very largely an anticipation of the experiences, and the
consequent convictions and beliefs of our later ages.

In the course of her conquest of a world, very little indeed
of it savage or barbarous, much the greater part a chaos of
far-stretching civilisations, with religious and civic organisa-
tions more elaborate and pompous than her own, Rome,
or at least the more thoughtful of Rome's sons, very soon
lost faith in the old traditional religion, with its somewhat
scanty and arid ritual, its lack of scenic display, its poverty
of artistic adornment in legend and poesy and sculpture.
The poets and would-be poets of conquering Rome were
almost forced to borrow from the gorgeous and vivid
splendour of Greek religion, and to convey the apparatus
of the Greek Olympus and the Greek Hades into the duller
sphere of Roman mythology.

But it is doubtful whether this wholesale transfer of a
religion more alien in its spirit even than it was in outward
forms and ceremonies, ever came to signify more in the
actual life and convictions of Rome than an artistic make-
believe. The Greek myths were a perfect godsend to
Rome's official poets, and Horace himself makes as much
as he may of them in his most ambitious and least convinc-
ing odes. But one can hardly imagine that the sane and
plodding, the sensible and practical Roman folks, including
Horace himself, ever came to care much or believe much
in any religious mysteries or mummeries that Greece could
teach them.

Horace himself was always on much surer, and more
congenial ground, when he recalled the honoured names
and memories of Latin farmer-soldiers or soldier-farmers
as duty required, who by the old-world virtues of simplicity
and frugality and self-denial and courage, enriched their
country in time of peace or enlarged it in time of war. In
describing these heroes and patriots, he had to make much
of the rewards of honest and clean living which these men
had received in the honour and respect of their own and

Introduction xix

after ages, he could make little of the somewhat ghostly
rewards and punishments of an after-world, which the
unimaginative Romans but dimly pictured, and still more
dimly believed in.

Moreover, the Romans in their conquering advance
trampled through and trampled over, but could not trample
down, all sorts of strange and passionate and fiercely de-
fended, fiercely critical religions, which they could hardly
ignore and would certainly not believe in. It is interesting
in this connection to recall a gathering at the time of a
great religious festival in a comparatively obscure and un-
important provincial Roman capital, Jerusalem, which
occurred only a generation after the time of Horace. (Acts
of the Apostles, ii.) — " Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites,
and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judaea, and Cap-
padocia, in Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in
Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers
of Rome, Jews, and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians."
These, and others not there named, represented different
religions, and votaries of every one of these religions, not
content to carry on their cults at the obscure corners of
a conquered world, flocked across seas and lands to the
centre of things, and set up, in sincerity, or for purposes of
plunder, their little shrines of mystery in Rome itself.
Horace seems in his younger days to have been now at-
tracted, now repelled, by some of these mysterious folks
and their doings. Everybody in Rome knew about them,
most despised them, hated them, persecuted them, but
they not infrequently feared them in a vague way, they at
any rate had to recognise them as a fact and a force in
Rome, hard if not impossible to get rid of, difficult to refute
or silence.

In these later ages, and more particularly in the extraor-
dinary developments of our own Empire, the men who have
in successive centuries shared and aided in its development
have of course had the enormous moral and religious
anchorage, so to call it, of the Christian religion, though
even this had its hold slackened for many by the unhappy
divisions and dissensions that have torn its votaries asunder.
But alongside of this mighty force working for continuity

xx Horace

and stability of belief, the thinking men who were busy
conquering and organising a world-wide empire have had
to face and deal with a very similar clashing of multiform
beliefs and mythologies, so that what with Buddhism, and
Brahminism and Mahomedanism and countless other
" isms " from China to Peru outside the bounds of Chris-
tianity, and what with Crusades and Inquisitions and
Reformations, — Lutheran, Calvinistic, Methodistic, what
with Mormonism and Salvationism, and endless other
strange phantasmagoria of the modern seething-pot of
faiths, the average modern man has often found himself
much in the position of Horace, so that with Horace he is
apt to say, if not to others, at least to himself and for him-
self, " Credat Judaeus, non ego." Thus among at least
many of the ruling and thinking members of the modern
European community a certain silence, a certain tolerance,
a certain indifference has become the characteristic note,
the real essence of their mood about the unknown mystery
that seems to hedge about humanity. It is the mood al
the heart of Chaucer and Shakespeare and Pope and Gray
and Lamb and Scott and Emerson and Stevenson, to name
only a few of our own masters, and a like array could be
quoted from the other great modern literatures. The
holders of this tacit mood of doubt or silence are not active
proselytisers, their belief or temper feels no call for stated
creeds or accepted forms. But it is a profoundly influential
temper nevertheless, and churchmen of every creed have
to reckon with it, even when they do not share it. And
the high-priest of this mood of gentle doubt is Horace.

As with many other doubters on eternal things, Horace
retained and expressed a kind of religious fervour hi his
conviction of the inherent value of beauty in speech and in
the work of men's hands and brains. The latter, as the
Romans found it, expressed for them with perfectness in
the sculpture and architecture of Greece, they borrowed
or stole ready-made, to adorn the capital of a conquered
world. As Horace puts it (Epist. II. i., 158), " Captive
Greece captured her rude conqueror," and Greece taught
Rome all she ever knew or could imagine of visible beauty
hi temples and statues and the rest. Greece also handed

Introduction xxi

over to Rome an unapproachable splendour of literary
masterpieces in epics, in drama, in history, in philosophy,
such as Rome could never hope to rival or even very suc-
cessfully imitate. Only the smaller fields seemed left, the
familiar letter, or essay, or friendly personal ditty — the
Epistle, the Satire, the Ode.

To Horace's mind these small aftermaths of poesy could
only earn a place even on the outskirts of literature by
absolute and unwearied perfection of language and ex-
pression. Grandeur of subject, magnificence of scope
might conceivably earn pardon or even demand assent for
a certain wild irregularity at times, " Interdum dormitat
Homerus " (Homer sleeps at times). But to the poor and
petty labourers of a later and less vigorous day, what he
called the " labour of the file," must be applied relentlessly,
or the result was a mere nonentity. Hence his frequent
criticisms of earlier and more easy-going Latin writers (as
in Satires I. iv. xx. ; Satires II. i. ; Epistles I. xix. ; Epistles
II. i. ii. Ars Poetica}. Whatever their merits as men or
as moralists, these men, to Horace's mind, wrote themselves
outside literature altogether by the total neglect of style
and perfectness in the ordering of their thought and
language.

The war between form and matter thus so often and so
emphatically raised by Horace has remained a cause of
bitterness and division among the writers and the critics
of all succeeding ages. It would be out of place to discuss
it on the merits here. Suffice it to say that in his own case
Horace did succeed, at least in his Odes, in so combining
perfection of form with worthiness of substance that he has
more than justified his claim to live for ever on the tongues
of men, as the fashioner for all time of the fit word in its
fittest setting.

Another item of almost religious conviction Horace ex-
pressed with growing emphasis all through his works. This
was a faith in the greatness of the destiny of Rome, personi-
fied to him but by no means swallowed up in his allegiance
to Augustus and his love for Maecenas. Through Rome
and through Rome alone were Right and Order and Purity
and Peace to be built up and perfected and assured in all

Horace

time to come for the world that Rome had conquered.
There was a work that had never yet been done as Rome
could do it; in these there remained a career for the Im-
perial city, which no previous empire had ever dreamed of.
The whole training and development of earlier times, the
whole traditions of patriotism and self-devotion and
courage which Republican Rome bequeathed to the Empire,
the supremacy of Senate and people personified in a deified
Augustus, these were Rome's gifts to the world for which
she and she alone was now responsible.

The anticipations of an earthly paradise of order and good
government thus expressed had a rude awakening ere long
in the moral and intellectual collapse of the Caesarian
regime, as we find it exposed in the pages of the next great
Roman writer, Tacitus. In fact the Decline and Fall of the
Roman empire may be said to have dated from the very
hour in which it was proclaimed. Viewed at its centre, in
the palace of the Caesars, such Caesars as Tiberius and
Caligula and the rest, no worse government for any state
could possibly be imagined.

Yet in a deeper sense, and viewed over a larger area in
space and in duration, the political dreams of Horace have
had and still have ample and growing fulfilment. The
centuries during which the Imperial system of Rome,
viewed at the centre, might be regarded as slowly but surely
sinking in corruption and disgrace, were centuries not of
loss but of enormous and even incalculable gain to the
outer and greater world. Order, and the instruments of
order, in cities and harbours and roads, in courts of justice
and chambers of government, in a universal civilised speech,
a universally valid law of property and conduct, — these
things grew and developed and strengthened, so rooting
themselves in the minds and habits of the whole world as
it was then known, from India to Britain, that when the
deluge of invasion of Saxons and Goths and Vandals and
the rest poured over the weakened ramparts of the Empire,
devastating and devouring, as it seemed, the entire Roman
civilisation even to Rome itself, the real and permanent
effects were exactly the reverse. It was now a case of captive
Rome capturing her rude conquerors. Slowly but inevit-

Introduction xxiii

ably the invading hosts settled down to Roman speech and
Roman order and Roman laws. The whole civilisation
of the modern world is and must remain that Roman
civilisation whose imperial and eternal supremacy Horace
thus, with a truth greater than he conceived, prophesied
in the name of Augustus his patron, and Maecenas his
friend.

To the first book of his Epistles he appends an " Envoi "
addressed to the book itself, for which if it ventures out
into the world he predicts all sorts of dangers, and con-
cludes thus: — " Finally, my book, your destiny will be, in
stammering old age to teach boys their first elements in
schools remote. However, should the warm sun gather a
few gossips about you, you can tell them that I had a freed-
man for father, and but scanty fortune to begin with, yet
boldly spread my wings far from the parent nest. Thus
what you take from my birth, you will be adding to my
merits. Tell them I had the friendship of the world's
greatest men at home and abroad; was little of stature,
early grey, fond of the sunshine; quick-tempered, but
easily appeased. And should any one ask my age, tell him
I .had completed forty-four Decembers in the year when
Lollius got Lepidus for his Colleague."

We may conclude this short notice with a translation, in
rhyme by way of variety, of the last eighteen lines of
Horace's last epistle (II. ii. 199-216), in which he sums up
fairly well his matured philosophy of conduct. In this
passage Horace, after the manner he learned from his
father, is his own Mentor, as he converses with himself.

" Let but my house from sordid pinch be free,
Then small or big my bark, — all's one to me. 200

I may not (winds being fair) spread sail so wide, —
But, in a gale, less danger I abide;
In strength, brains, looks, in virtue, wealth and place,
Last of the leaders, not last in the race."
— " Well you're not greedy? Good! that's but one part;
Lurks then no other sin within your heart ?
Ambition, anger, fear of death, — are these
Unknown? Smile you at witchcraft's mysteries,
Ghosts, dreams, and portents? Count you with grateful heart
Your birthdays up, and take in kindly part 210

The faults of friends, each year the gentler growing?
If not — why pluck one thorn, so many showing?

xxiv Horace

Dolt in good deeds, make way for men of skill;
You've had of sport and food and drink your fill.
'Tis time you went, lest gorged beyond your worth,
Youths fitlier gay laugh you, or beat you, forth!"

JOHN MARSHALL.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

WORKS (Latin): Editio princeps, 1470 (?), followed by numerous
editions in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries. Later
editions of note are those of N. Heinsius, 1612; R. Bentley, 1711 (3rd
edition, 1869); O. Keller and A. Holder (text only), 1864-9 (Supple-
mentary Volume of textual criticism, Epiligomena Zu Horaz by O.
Keller, 1879-80), 2nd edition, 1899-1925 ; C. W. King, revised by H. A. J.
Munro, 1869; L. Miiller, 1874, 1900; Schiitz, 1880-3; F. W. Cornish,
1882; J. K. Orelli — Baiter — Mewes — Hirschfilder, 1886-92; A. Kiessling,
revised by R. Heinze, 1914-30; J. Vahlens, 1908; F. Vollmer (Teubner
edition), 1912; E. C. Wickham, revised by H. W. Garrod (Oxford
Classical Texts), 1912. There are separate editions of the Odes by T. E.
Page, 1895, and F. Plessis, 1924; of the Satires by A. Palmer, 1883, and
P. Lejan, 1911; and of the Epistles by A. S. Wilkins, 1892.

WITH ENGLISH NOTES AND COMMENTARIES: By J. E. Yonge, 1857,
1865-6, 1867; and with revised text by same, 1868; A. J. Macleane,
2nd edition, revised by G. Long (Bibl. Class.), 1869; J. M. Marshall
(Catena classicorum), 1874; E. C. Wickham, 2 vols., 1874-91.

LATIN AND ENGLISH: Verse by P. Francis, 4 vols., i743~6, 9th
edition, 1791; edited by W. H. D. Rouse, 2 vols. (Unit Library), 1902;
verse (with literal prose interpretations), C. Smart, 1756, 1762, and
later editions.

ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS: Variorum Ed., A. Browne, 1666, etc.;
T. Creech, 1684, etc.; J. Buncombe and others, I757~9; w- Boscowen,
1793; C. Smart (prose), 1756, with notes by T. A. Buckley (Bohn's
Classics), 1850, (Classical Library), 1906; Globe edition (prose), by
J. Lonsdale and S. Lee, 1873; Theodore Martin (verse), 2 vols., 1881;
Chandos Classics (by various hands), 1889; J. C. Elgood (prose), 1893;
A. H. Bryce (prose) (Bohn's Classics), 1897; E. C. Wickham (prose),
1903; J. Conington (verse), 1905).

ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS OF SEPARATE WORKS:

Odes: Dryden, A few Odes in Miscellany, pt. 2, 1685; Literal trans-
lation (with Latin text), H. G. Robinson, 1846-59; with Epodes and
Carmen Saeculare (verse), G. J. Whyte-Melville, 1850; literally and
rhythmically, W. Sewell, 1850; unrhymed metres, F. W. Newman,
1853, 1876; Th. Martin (with Epodes and Carmen Saeculare, verse),
with life, 1860, 1861; with addition of Satires, 1870; with Carmen
Saeculare (verse), J. Conington, 1863; Books I. and II. (verse), H. N.
Jones, 1865; C. S. Matthews (verse), 1867; with Epodes, Carmen
Saeculare, and Satires (with Latin text), C. Hughes, 1867; Selections
(verse), E. H. Brodie, 1868; with Epodes (with Latin text, metrical
translation), Lord Lytton, 1869, 1872, 1887 (Excelsior Series), 1894
(Lubbock's Hundred Best Books); E. Yardley (verse), 1869; with
Satires and Epistles (verse), J. B. Rose, 1869; T. C. Baring (verse)

Bibliography xxv

1870; (with Latin text), M. Harris, 1874; metrical paraphrase. R. M.
Hovenden, 1874; literal translation in metre, A. S. Way, 1876; W. E. H.
Forsyth (verse), 1876; literally versified (with Latin text), W. T.
Thornton, 1878; in rhyme and blank verse, H. H. Pierce, 1884; H.
Grant (verse), 1885; C. W. Duncan (verse), 1886; T. R. Clark (verse),
1887; J. L. S. Hatton (verse), 1890; T. A. Stewart, 1890; with Epodes
(with Latin text, verse), J. B. Hague, 1892; J. O. Sargent (verse),
1893; with Carmen Saeculare (verse), T. A. Walker, 1893; with Epodes,
S. de Vere, 1893; with Carmen Saeculare, W. E. Gladstone, 1894, 3rd
edition, 1895; Books III. and IV., with Epodes and Carmen Saeculare
(verse), J. H. Deazeley, 1895; A. S. Aglen (verse), 1896; in original
metres, P. E. Phelps, 1897; A. D. Godley (prose), 1898; W. C. Green
(verse), 1903; (with Latin text, verse), J. Conington (Pocket Book
Classics), 1903, 1904; collected and arranged by M. Jourdain (Temple
Classics), 1904; by various hands (Broadway Booklets), 1905; with
Epodes and Carmen Saeculare, E. Dufaur, 1906; E. R. Garnsey, 1907*
with Epodes (with Latin text, verse, corresponding with the original
metres by J. Marshall) (Temple Greek and Latin Classics), 1907; by
various hands (with Latin text), S. A. Courtauld, 1908; with other
verses and translations, F. L. Latham, 1910; C. E. Bennet (Loeb); W. S.
Morris, 1912.

Epodes: A. S. Way (verse), 1898, see also under Odes.

Epistles: With Satires (prose, with Latin text), E. Dunster, 1712*
5th edition, 1739; with Satires and Art of Poetry (verse), J. Conington,
1870; with Latin text (Pocket Book Classics), 1904; metrical trans-
lation, F. W. Finlay, 1871; with Art of Poetry (verse), A. Wood, 1872;
with Satires (English version of P. Francis) (Popular Classics), 1906; with
Satires, Ars Poetica, and Latin texts, H. R. Fairclough (Loeb).

Satires: A. Wood (verse), 1870; see also under Epistles.

Art of Poetry: B. Jonson (with occasional Odes), 1640; Earl of
Roscommon (blank verse with Latin text), 1860, and later editions;
H. G. Robinson (verse), 1861; D. Bagot (prose and verse), 1863, 3rd
edition, 1880; A. Hill, 1883; Howes, 1892; see also under Epistles.

GENERAL: A. W. Verrall: Studies in Horace, 1884; W. Y. Sellar:
Horace and the Elegiac Poets, 1892; J. F. D'Alton: Horace and his Age,
1917; A. Y. Campbell: Horace: a New Interpretation, 1924; L. P.
Wilkinson: Horace and his Lyric Poetry, 1945.

CONTENTS

THE ODES— BOOK I

Translated by Dr. John Marshall, 1908.
ODE

INTRODUCTION .....

i. To Maecenas ......

ii. Rome's Woes and their Avenger
in. To a Ship bearing Virgil over Seas
iv. Spring .......

v. Pyrrha .......

vi. To Agrippa ......

vii. To Plancus ......

vni. To Lydia ......

ix. To Thaliarchus .....

x. To Mercury ......

xi. Leuconoe ......

xii. To Clio, Muse of History ....

xni. To Lydia ......

xiv. To the Ship of State ....

xv. The Doom of Paris .....

xvi. A Palinode or Song of Apology
xvn. To Tyndaris ......

xvni. To Varus ......

xix. In Praise of Glycera ....

xx. To Maecenas ......

xxi. Hymn to Latona and her Children
xxn. Lalage .......

xxni. Chloe .......

xxiv. Quintilius ......

xxv. To a Beauty Faded ....

xxvi. In Honour of Lamia ....

xxvn. Of Wine and Love .....

xxvin. Archytas ......

xxix. To Iccius ......

xxx. To Venus . . .'
xxxi. To Apollo ......

xxxn. On receiving a Request for a Song
xxxni. To Albius Tibullus, a Brother Poet .
xxxiv. Horace a Convert . .

xxvi

PAGE

vii

2
4
5
6

7
7
9
9

10
ii
ii
13
14
15
16

i?
18

19
20

20
21
22

23
24

24
25

27
28
29
29

Contents

xxvu

ODE

xxxv. To the Goddess Fortune .
xxxvi. In Numida's Honour
xxxvn. Cleopatra ....
xxxvin. In Praise of Simplicity

ODES— BOOK II

i. To Pollio

n. To Sallustius Crispus
in. To Dellius
iv. To Xanthias .
v. Of Lalage

vi. In Praise of Tibur and Tarentuni
vn. To Pompeius ....
vin. To Barine ....
ix. To Valgius
x. To Licinius
xi. To Hirpinus Quinctius
xn. To Maecenas .
xin. To a Fallen Tree
xiv. To Postumus
xv. Old Times and New
xvi. To Grosphus .
xvii. To Maecenas Sick .
xvin. To a Miser
xix. A Rhapsody to Bacchus .
xx. Horace a World's Poet

ODES— BOOK III

i. Of Rome and Life .
n. Of Roman Virtue
in. Of Rome and Troy .
iv. To Calliope

v. Of Roman Soldiers' Honour
vi. Of Rome's Degeneracy
vn. Asterie ....
vin. An Anniversary
ix. A Dialogue ....
x. A Doleful Serenade
xi. To Mercury and the Lyre
xii. Neobule's Complaint
xiu. Bandusia's Fountain
xiv. Triumphal Ode to Augustus
xv. To Chloris ....
xvi. Of Riches and Contentment

PAGE
3"
3i
32
33

35
36
37
38
39
40

4i
42
43
44
45
46

47
48

49
50
5i
53
54

55
56
53
60

65
66

67
68
69
70
72
72
73
74
75

XXV111

Horace

ODE

xvii. To Aelius Lamia .

xvin. To Faunus ......

xix. In Honour of Muraena made Augur .
xx. A Sculptured Contest .
xxi. For Corvinus .

xxn. Hymn to Diana .
xxin. To Phidyle, a Country Housewife
xxiv. Of Rome's Decay .
xxv. A Bacchanalian Rhapsody
xxvi. Love Renounced and Resumed
xxvn. To Galatea Wishing Good Voyage
xxvni. To Lyde ......

xxix. To Maecenas ......

xxx. A Closing Song to his Muse

ODES— BOOK IV

I. To Venus ......

n. To lulus Antonius, a Brother Poet
in. To Melpomene .

iv. In Praise of Drusus . . ._

v. To Augustus . . . ...

vi. To Apollo and Diana .
vii. To Torquatus .

vni. To Censorinus .

ix. To Lollius ......

x. To Ligurinus ......

xi. For Maecenas' Birthday .
xn. To Virgil ......

xni. To Lyce grown old .

xiv. In Praise of Tiberius ....

xv. Praises of Augustus ....

THE EPODES

Translated by Dr. John Marshall
EPODE

i. Before the Battle of Actium
ii. In Praise of Country Life, with Postscript .
in. A Curse on Garlic . ...

iv. A " Nouveau Riche "
v. Canidia the Poisoner ....

vi. The Biter Bit

vii. The Curse of Rome ....

ix. The Victory at Actium ....

x. A Prayer Ill-omened ....

xi. To Pettius . ....

PAGE

76
77
77
73

80
81

83
84
84

87
88
90

94
95
98

99
101

102

103
IO4

105

106
107
108
no

112

116
119
119

I2O
121
122

Contents xxix

EPODE PAGE

xiii. Winter ......... 123

xiv. To Maecenas . ..... 124

xv. To Neaera . ..... 124

xvi. Iron and Golden Age . . . . . 125

xvn. Horace and Canidia . . . . . .127

THE SAECULAR HYMN ... . 130

Translated by Dr. John Marshall
THE ART OF POETRY 133

Translated by the Earl of Roscommon

THE SATIRES

Translated by Christopher Smart.

FIRST BOOK
SATIRE

i. That all, but especially the Covetous, think theif own

Condition the hardest ..... 148

ii. Bad Men, when they avoid certain Vices, fall into their

opposite Extremes . . . . . .151

in. We ought to connive at the Faults of our Friends, and
all Offences are not to be ranked in the Catalogue
of Crimes ....... 156

iv. He apologises for the Liberties taken by Satiric Poets in

general, and particularly by himself . . . 160

v. He describes a certain Journey of his from Rome to

Brundusium with great Pleasantry . . .165

vi. Of true Nobility ....... 168

vii. He humorously describes a Squabble betwixt Rupilius

and Persius . . . . . . .172

vin. Priapus complains that the Esquilian Mount is infested

with the Incantations of Sorceresses . . 173

ix. He describes his sufferings from the Loquacity of an

impertinent Fellow . . . . . 175

x. He supports the Judgment which he had before given of
Lucilius, and intersperses some excellent Precepts
for the writing of Satire ..... 177

SECOND BOOK

I. He supposes himself to consult with Trebatius, whether

he should desist from writing Satires, or not . . 181

ii. On Frugality .... . 184

in. Damasippus, in a Conversation with Horace, proves this
Paradox of the Stoic Philosophy, that most Men are
actually Mad . . . . . . .189

iv. He ridicules the absurdity of one Catius, who placed the

Summit of Human Felicity in the Culinary Art , 198

XXX

Horace

SATIRE
V

PAGE

In a Humourous Dialogue between Ulysses and Tiresia?.
he exposes those Arts which the Fortune- Hunters
made use of, in order to be appointed the Heirs of
rich old Men ... . . 201

vi. He sets the Conveniences of a Country Retirement in

Opposition to the Troubles of a Life in Town. . 204

vn. One of Horace's Slaves, making use of that Freedom
which was allowed them at the Saturnalia, rates
his Master in a droll and severe Manner . . 208

vni. A smart Description of a Miser ridiculously acting the

Extravagant . . . . . .212

THE EPISTLES

Translated by Christopher Smart.

FIRST BOOK
EPISTLE

i. To Maecenas .....
ii. To Lollius

in. To Julius Florus ....
iv. To Albius Tibullus .
v. To Torquatus .
vi. To Numicius .

vn. To Maecenas .....
vni. To Celsus Albinovanus
ix. To Claudius Tiberius Nero
x. To Aristius Fuscus ....
xi. To Bullatius .
xii. To Iccius
xin. To Vinnius Asina
xiv. To his Steward ....
xv. To C. Numonius Vala
xvi. To Quinctius . . . . .
xvn. To Scaeva . .

xviii. To Lollius .....
xix. To Maecenas ...
xx. To His Book

SECOND BOOK

I. To Augustus .
II. To Julius Florus

. 215

. 218

220

221

222

223

. 225

. 228

229

230

. 231

. 232

• 233

• 234
236

• 237
24O

. 242

• 245

• 247

249
256

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE

Note. — The names in Italics occur in the Odes.
B.C.
753. Romulus founds Rome. He is followed by six other kings: —

Nutna, Tu'lus Hostilius, Ancus, Tarquinius Priscus ; Servius

Tullius, and Tarquinius the Proud.
508. Porsena, king of Etruria, on the expulsion of the kings, attacked

Rome.

390. Rome captured by the Gauls, saved by Camillus.
280. War with Pyrrhus, king of Epirus; Fabricius refuses his bribes.
275. M. Curius Dentatus finally defeats Pyrrhus.
256. In the First Punic war Regains, a Roman General, is defeated and

taken prisoner in Africa, is sent home to negotiate peace, advises

against it, and goes back to torture and death.
242. The First Punic war finished in a great naval victory for Rome in

the Sicilian sea.
216. In the Second Punic war great victory of Hannibal at Cannae;

Paullus is killed. Capua seeks to obtain pre-eminence in Italy-

In same year M. Claudius Marcellus repulses Hannibal from

Nola.

212. Marcellus takes Syracuse from the Carthaginians.
207. Battle of Metaurus ; Claudius Nero defeats and slays Hasdrubal.
202. Battle of Zama. P. Cornelius Scipio the Elder conquers Hannibal

and Carthage.
190. Antiochus the Great, king of Syria, is crushed by L. Cornelius

Scipio at Magnesia.
184. Censorship of Cato the Elder.

146. Carthage destroyed by P. Cornelius Scipio the Younger.
143. Ten years' war with Numantia begun.
109. Censorship of M. Aemilius Scaurus.
106. Cimbri and Teutones, German tribes, invade Italy, but are crushed

by Marius.

105. Marius overthrows Jugurtha, a usurping African king.
88. Social or Marsian war in Italy.
73. Revolt of slaves in Italy under Spartacus.
65. Horace born at Venusia.
63. In the conspiracy of Catiline, the Allobroges, a Gallic tribe who

had sworn fealty to Rome, were inclined to assist him.
60. The first triumvirate (Caesar, Pompey, Crassus) formed during the

consulship of Metellus.

xxxi

xxxii Horace

B.C.

55. Caesar invades Britain.

53. Defeat of Crassus at Carrhae by the Parthians. Standards lost.

48. Caesar defeats Pompey at Pharsalia, and becomes master of the

world.
46. Pompeian remnant crushed by Caesar at Utica, in Africa; Cato

the younger commits suicide there.

43. Horace joins Brutus iii Macedonia, as commander of a legion.
42. Brutus and Cassius defeated at Philippi.
40. Treaty of Brundisium between Octavian and Antony. Parthians

overrun Syria, under Pasorus.

36. Antony fails in a war against the Parthians, led by Monaeses.
31. Antony and Cleopatra defeated by Octavian at Actium.
27. Octavian receives from the Senate the titles of Prince, Augustus,

Father of his Country. The worship of " Rome and Augustus "

spreads throughout the Empire.

26. The Sygambrians, a German tribe, defeat f.ollius.
20. Augustus secures restoration of standards lost in 53, and defeats

the Dacian Cotison.

19. The Cantabrians in Spain finally subdued. Virgil dies.
18. Julian laws for reformation of Society and promotion of marriage.
17. The Saecular games and Saecular hymn.
15-14. Augustus through his deputies Tiberius and Drusus Nero

crushes the Raetians and other Alpine tribes.
8. Death of Maecenas and of Horace.

PROPERTY OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK

THE KI ; PJ3LIC LIBSAKY

MANHATTAN RESERVE

THE ODES— BOOK I

TO MAECENAS

MAECENAS, SPRUNG FROM KINGS OF ANCIENT STORY,
STAY OF MY FORTUNE AND MY CHIEFEST GLORY-

Some men delight Olympic dust to raise
Upon the course. Deftly the post to graze
\Vith fiery wheels, and victory's palm to know,
Makes them as gods, supreme o'er earth below.
Another's happy, if Rome's fickle crowd
To him their triple honours have allowed.
A third, if in his private barn he stores
The corn wide-swept from Libya's threshing-floors. 10

That man who joys his natal fields to hoe,
Not ev'n the bribes an Attalus could bestow
Would e'er induce in Cyprian bark to sail
The Aegean surge, and shiver in the gale.
Not so the merchant. He, while squalls blow high,
Battling Icarian waves, in fear may sigh
For peaceful home-fields; yet shall soon repair
His storm-tost hulks, untaught hard times to bear.
Cups of old Massic wine one man admires,
Or to steal half the working day desires, 20

Basking beneath green arbute, or where clear
Sounds the nymph-haunted fountain babbling near.
Many the camp delights, the trumpet's call
With bugle mingling, and fierce battle's brawl
By mothers hated. Heedless of tender spouse
B5J5 £>i;

2 Horace

Your sportsman waits, the chilly sky his house,

If his good cubs a doe have chanced to view,

Or his slim nets a Marsian boar's broke through

Me ivy-wreaths, which poets' brows reward,

Set with the gods. Me the cool grove, whose sward

Light-footed Nymphs with Satyrs linked make gay,

Parts from the crowd ; if but Euterpe say

Her flute she'll lend, if Polyhymnia sing

Kindly for me upon the Lesbian string.

BUT IF BY THEE PLACE 'MID THE BARDS I'M GIVEN,
WITH SOARING HEAD I'LL STRIKE THE STARS OF HEAVEN.

ROME'S WOES AND THEIR AVENGER

Surely enough of snow and icy showers
From the stern north Jove hath in vengeance called,
Striking with red right hand His sacred towers
And Rome appalled, —

Ay, the whole earth, — lest should return the time
Of Pyrrha's blank amaze at sights most strange,
When Proteus drove his finny herd to climb
The mountain range;

And fishes in the elms' high tops did rest,
Where late the doves had homed ; while o'er the main 10
Of outspread flood hinds swam with labouring breast
In fear and pain.

Tiber's brown stream we saw an angry sheet
Hurled in wild flood from the Etrurian shore,
And swirl back Vesta's fane and Numa's seat
To topple o'er.

Boasting himself forsooth the avenging knight
Of tearful Ilia's wrongs, the lovelorn river
O'erflowed his leftward bank in Jove's despite,

Amends to give her. 20

The Odes — Book I 3

Our sons shall hear how Romans Romans slew
With swords that fitlier Parthian foe had slain,
When through their parents' crimes a sorry few
Those sons remain.

What god from Heaven shall Rome invoke to save
Her tottering power? Or with what prayer prevailing
Shall the chaste Virgins grace from Vesta crave,
Deaf ears assailing?

Who shall be given the task by Jove's decree
Our guilt to appease? Augur Apollo, come; 30

Hid in earth's cloud let thy bright shoulders be,
And rescue Rome !

Or haply, smiling Venus, thine the boon
To save us, Jest and Cupid in thy train !
Or Mars, if on thy children, none too soon,
Thou smil'st again ;

Tired of thy cruel sporting at the last,

Though well thou lov'st smooth helms and battle's cry,

And Moor afoot who on fall'n foe doth cast

A.n angry eye ! 40

Or haply, gentle Maia's son, 'tis thou,
Wing'd god, who deign'st to don a manly frame,
And on the earth " Caesar's Avenger " now
Assum'st for name !

Whate'er thy godhead, late return, we pray,
To heaven; long love to dwell with Romulus' seed !
O let no wind too swift bear thee away
For our ill deed !

Here rather may'st thou choose thy triumphs proud;
Here love as " Father," " Prince," thy folk to guide; 50
Nor while thou, Caesar, rul'st, be Mede allowed
At will to ride !

Horace

III

TO A SHIP BEARING VIRGIL OVER SEAS

Thee may kind Venus, Cyprian queen,
And Helen's brothers, stars by sailors blest,

And Aeolus the winds' father, screen
And guide, hushed every wind except the west, —

If, Ship that bear'st as precious store
Our Virgil, safely treasured thou convey

Cargo so dear, and to the shore
Of Athens my soul's better half repay !

Him, heart of oak and brass thrice-knit
The breast encased, who 'gainst the cruel deep 10

His fragile bark first dared to pit,
Nor feared the Afric storms that onward sweep,

With northern gales fierce war to wage,
Nor the Rainstars ill-famed, nor Southwind's frown, —

No wind than this o'er Hadria's rage
Stronger, to raise his waves, or beat them down !

What stride of Death could him amaze,
Who with unwavering eyes on seas agloom,

And on strange weltering beasts did gaze,
And the Ceraunian peaks, those cliffs of doom ? 20

Vain all the care a god hath ta'en
By Sea's deep gulf to part, of forethought wise,

Lands each from each, if o'er the main
The Ship forbidden leaps, and Fate defies.

Daring all chances to endure,
The race of man from crime to crime is driven.

Prometheus thus for men did lure,
With evil-fated cunning, fire from Heaven.

The Odes — Book I

Once fire from its true home on high
Was filched, slow Canker and a dismal band 30

Of Fevers to the world drew nigh.
And Death, though sure yet far, came nearer hand.

By a like daring Daedalus tried
With wings to set through empty air his course,

Proving a gear to man denied ;
So 'twas that Hercules' toil Hell's gate could force.

No task's too steep for human wit;
Heaven's self we dare to assail in madness vile ;

Nor ever by our deeds permit
Great Jove to rest his angry bolts a while. 40

IV
SPRING

Melts Winter now, his bitter frosts in Spring's sweet change
expire;

Sleds drag the long-dry keels now to the shore.
No longer beasts in stall delight, nor ploughman by the fire,

Nor gleam the lawns with hoar-frost any more.

Now Venus 'neath the sailing moon leads forth her dancing

bands;

The dainty Graces sport on twinkling feet
Adown the lea, linked with the Nymphs; and glowing

Vulcan's hands
Strain the great Cyclop forges fierce to heat.

Now is the time thy glossy locks with myrtle leaves to twine,
Or flowers, which earth new-thawed makes haste to bear;

Now with a lambkin or with kid, as the god's choice incline,
In cool groves gift for Faunus to prepare. 12

\Vith equal foot pale Pluto knocks at hovels of the poor,
And at the tyrant's towers. My Sestius dear,

6 Horace

Brief is thy span, nor may'st thou dream of pleasures far or

sure.
Soon Night, and fabled Shades, and mansion drear

Of ghostly Death, shall close on thee. Thither when thou

hast passed,

No dice thou'lt throw to rule the drinkers' sport;
No more on the young Lycidas fond looks of love thou'lt

cast, —
The men's pet now, whom soon the girls will court. 20

PYRRHA

What slender youth, with wealth of roses sheen
And with sweet essences besprent, pursues thee,

In cool grot, Pyrrha, woos thee ?
For whom thy yellow hair dost preen,

Simple yet exquisite ? Now oft, ah me !

Vows broken he'll deplore and gods that change ;

And, to thy whimsies strange,
Shall gaze where glooms a wind-swept sea;

Who credulous now dotes on thy tinsel gold,

And dreams thee ever willing ever kind, 10

To thy fair falseness blind !
0 hapless, who untried behold

Thy glitter ! Lo, my dripping weeds I place,
With picture vowed, on Neptune's temple wall,

My saving to recall
From shipwreck by thy siren face.

The Odes— Book I

VI
TO AGRIPPA '

Not I, but Varius, swan of Homer's brood,
Must sing thy valour, sing the victor hand,
Guided by which Rome's men on sea and land
The mighty brunt of battle stood.

Such themes, Agrippa, I no more presume
To handle, than the mighty tales I'd sing
Of fierce Achilles' wrath, the voyaging

Of sly Ulysses, or the doom

Of cruel Pelops' house. Such things to dare

Were task too great. Shame and my muse that sways 10

A timid lyre, forbid me Caesar's praise,

Or thine, by lack of gift to impair.

What voice could sing Mars clothed in adamant,
Or Merion black with dust from Trojan field,
Or Tydeus' son, to whom ev'n gods might yield,
Such aid to him did Pallas grant?

My themes are wassail, and girls' mimic fight,

Fierce (with pared nails) against the youths engaging;

Naught know I in my song of passion's raging;

Or if I burn, the scars are slight. 20

VII
TO PLANCUS

By others be bright Rhodes or Ephesus named,
Or Mitylene, or Corinth's double bays.

Delphi for Phoebus, Thebes for Bacchus famed,
Fair Tempe too, each claims its meed of praise.

8 Horace

Some of unwed Athena's seat prefer

In endless verse to sing, and wreathe their head

With olive leaves, gathered no matter where.
For Juno's sake much is of Argos said,

And its horse-breeding; much., of Mycenae's gold.

Me, ev'n stern Sparta charms not half so well, 10

Or rich Larissa's plain of fruitful mould,

As nymph Albunea with her echoing cell,

Or Anio swift, or Tiburn's orchard groves,
Refreshed with their led waters day by day.

The Southwind lifts at times, and straight removes
Clouds from the sky, nor breeds the showers alway;

So be thou wise, my friend, let gloom go past;

And soothe life's toils with wine, whether the sight
Of camp with standards decked its glamour cast,

Or thy own Tibur's shadowed glades invite. 20

Teucer, we're told, when driven in banishment
From Salamis and sire, yet wreathed his brow

With poplar, and to comrades ill-content

Thus cheerly spake: " Where'er our fortune now

(Kinder at least than was my sire) allures,

Thither we'll follow. Never despair, my friends,

While Teucer leads, and Teucer luck assures !
Know that Apollo, who true omens sends,

Foretells for us a Salamis o'er seas,

Foil to the first. To-night with wine drown care, 30

Friends oft who've braved worse things with me than these;

At morn o'er the wide sea once more we'll fare ! "

The Odes— Book I

VIII
TO LYDIA

Lydia, 'fore Heaven say,
Why them dost haste with loving thy Sybaris to slay

Why he, long since to sun
And dusty days inured, the open field doth shun?

Why rides he not abreast
With comrades, nor the jaws of Gallic steed doth wrest

To obey the wolf-bit? \Vhy
Fears he the tawny tide of Tiber's stream to try?

Why worse than blood of snake
Shrinks he the athlete's oil upon his skin to take? TO

Nor now shows arms all blue,
Who oft far past the pin his quoit or javelin threw?

Why lurks he, as once, they say,
Lurked sea-nymph Thetis' son, before Troy's woeful day,

Lest manhood's dress should call
Her young Achilles straight to blood and Lycian maul?

IX
TO THALIARCHUS

Thou see'st how whitely fair Soracte stands
In snow-wreaths clad, and how the labouring woods
Their load sustain not; how the floods
Are gripped in frozen bands.

Melt me this cold, freely the firelogs throwing
On hearth, my Thaliarchus ! And from crock
Two-eared, of Sabine make, unlock
Wine, with four years a-glowing!
*B 5'5

~ Horace

- -.- r v. :!-_* z-.-ir! Or.'

-. . -• : -..: .----. -_-..
----.--•• - .
FT:- t- - ---. r'.-r - - r^re.

- .

ur: 20

r.er arr. ":/. : ;, ".t

X
v TO MERCURY

••-..- .'. . : —>.-. .- -' - . ' '.

Ll - .'. I"..' -- : - - . -- - -..•

;• .-.: -:'.,.: V : -, ..; ... . . :' IO

Yet cc -lc but liui'li -*-h«i a fresh k/ss hfe proved,

The Odes — Book I 1 1

Under thy escort Priam safely went.
Gold-laden, the grim sons of Atreus by :
Passed the Thessalian fires, passed tent by tent
Each enemy.

To the blest fields thou pious souls dost steer,
Checking with rod of gold Death's phantom train;
Thus both to gods of Heaven and Hades dear

Thou dost remain. 20

XI
LEUCOXOE

Leuconoe dear, seek not I pray to know

what Heaven hath hid ;
The span to me accorded, or to thee,

is lore forbid !
Tempt not Chaldean horoscopes ! More wise,

what comes, to bear;
Nor fret, whether some winters more from Jove

fall to our share,
Or this, which lashes now the Tuscan shore.

our last decreed.
Be wise and strain the wine ! Since short at best

of joy our meed,
Prune distant hopes. Ev'n as we speak, grim Time

speeds swift away;
Seize now and here the hour that is. nor trust

some later day !

XII
TO CLIO. MUSE OF HISTORY

Clio, what man, what demigod, dost choose,
What god, with lyre or shrill-voiced pipe to praise ?
Whose name shall sportive Echo send, my Muse,
Adown the ways, —

1 2 Horace

Haply through Helicon's umbrageous bounds,
O'er Pindus, or by Balkan's frozen height,
Whose groves, bewitched by Orpheus' tuneful sounds,
In tangled plight

Pursued the bard, while by his mother's skill
The gliding streams and the swift storms he steers, 10
And with his tuneful lyre-strings led at will
The oaks all ears ?

What better theme for prelude could I try
Than the great Father's ritual praise ; whose hand
Men's realm and gods', earth, sea, and changeful sky,
Doth still command ?

From whom naught greater than himself is born,
Naught stands ev'n equal, or holds second place;
What honours nearest come, Pallas hath worn

By special grace. 20

Nor, Bacchus, brave in battle, shall I here
Thy praise pass o'er, — thine, Dian, huntress-foe
Of savage beasts, — thine, Phoebus, name of fear
For thy sure bow !

Hercules too I'll sing, and Leda's twins,
Skilled victor he to box, and he to ride :-
Soon as their star its brightening course begins,
Sailors to guide,

Straight from the rocks the storm-driven waves recoil,
Hushed are the winds, and all the clouds obey; 30

While, since they two so will, the storm's turmoil
Dies swift away.

Shall I sing Romulus next, or Numa's reign
Unwarlike, or the Tarquins' regal pride?
Or shall I rather tell in nobler strain
How Cato died?

The Odes — Book I i 3

Regulus, Scaurus, Paulus spendthrift proved
Of his brave life, when Carthage swept the field,
Fabricius, also, — praise to each I'm moved

In song to yield. 40

Him, shock-head Curius, and Camillas too,
Stern Want did train to deeds of daring done,-
Their school the croft, whose humble home they knew
From sire to son.

Ev'n as a tree unmarked through centuries grows,
So grows Marcellus' fame. And yet more bright
Shines out the Julian star, as moon outglows
Each lesser light.

0 Son of Saturn, Sire and Shield of men,
To thee 'tis given, by mighty Fate's decree, 50

Caesar to guard ! Still be it thine to reign,
Thy depute, he !

Whether these Parthian swarms, whose threat'ning cloud
Shows dark o'er Rome, he to his car shall bind
In triumph just, or China's orient crowd,
Or furthest Ind,

Second to thee he'll rule broad earth with right,

Whilst thou in thy great car Olympus shake,

And on dishonoured groves, with thunderous might

Thy vengeance take ! 60

XIII
TO LYDIA

Ah ! Lydia, when I hear thee praise
Telephus' rosy neck, his wax-smooth arms,

Alas ! my tortured heart's ablaze,
And my soul frets with anger and alarms

14 Horace

No more my thoughts or looks may keep
Their form unmoved, while down my features flow

The unheeded tears, showing how deep
Within my heart slow fires of passion glow.

When on thy shoulders white remains
The mark of drunken quarrellings, I mourn ; 10

Or when the furious madman stains
Thy pretty lips with tokens of his scorn.

Wouldst thou but hear me, lover true
Thou ne'er should'st see in him, whose ire had sought

A savage wrong on lips to do,
Which Venus hath with finest nectar fraught.

Thrice happy they, ay ! and beyond,
Whom an unbroken link holds close ! Thrice blest,

Whom never breach of lover's bond
Shall part in anger, till their final rest ! 20

XIV
TO THE SHIP OF STATE

O ship, fresh waves will bear thee out to sea!
What art about ? With a brave effort wear

To shore ! Seest not how bare
Of rowing gear thy bulwarks be ?

How groans thy mast, by hurtling southern gale
Wounded, and all thy yards? How ev'n thy hull,

Without the girdropes' pull,
Can scarce o'er insolent seas prevail?

Thy sails, once sound and taut, are torn or lost;
Lost too thy gods, to invoke again hard-pressed; 10

Howe'er, true pine confest
Of Pontus, thy high birth thou boast,

The Odes — Book I 15

And vaunt a name outworn. Little men care,
In hour of fear, for a ship's painted trash*

If thou would 'st 'scape the lash
Of mocking tempests' scorn, beware !

Dear Ship, of late to me a hateful thing,

But now my dear desire, my weightiest thought,

0 shun the seas distraught
Which round the sun-smit Cyclads swing ! 20

XV
THE DOOM OF PARIS

When that false shepherd Paris o'er the seas
In Trojan fleet his hostess Helen wiled,
Nereus with tedious calms the winds beguiled
Which sped them, that Fate's stern decrees

He might declare. " Ill-omened art thou gone
Bearing her home, whom Greece shall from thee rend
With a great host, oath-bound thy intrigue to end,
And end, too, Priam's ancient throne.

Alas, what sweat for steeds and warriors waits;
What massacre for all the Trojan folk 10

Dost thou contrive ! Pallas ev'n now doth yoke
Her car, her casque, her shield, her hates.

Vainly, with Venus' help puffed up, thou'lt preen
Thy locks, and the fond airs which women like
On the effeminate cithern strike;

Vainly thyself in bower thou'lt screen

From deadly spears' assault and Cretan bow,
From shout of war, and Ajax swift to chase.
At length, though late, thy adulterous tresses' grace
In dust bedrabbled shalt thou show. 20

1 6 Horace

See'st thou not even now Laertes' son,
Bane of thy race, and Nestor, Pylus' lord?
Brave Salaminian Teucer plies his sword,
Fierce Sthenelus drives thee on.

Skilled warrior he, or charioteer at need
As skilled. Of Merion too thou'lt know the ire.
Tydides, better fighter than his sire,
See him, in rage to find thee, speed !

And as a stag, that spies across the vale
A wolf's approach, thinks not of pasture nigh, 30

So thou wilt flee with gasping throat held high;
Not such to Helen once thy tale !

The wrath of armed Achilles will delay
Troy's, and Troy's matrons', doom awhile. But these
After fixed years Achaean fires shall seize,
And sweep the Trojan towers away."

XVI
A PALINODE OR SONG OF APOLOGY

Daughter, than lovely mother lovelier still,
What doom for my curst lines fits thy desire,
Thou shalt thyself inflict, — with fire,
Or Hadria's sea at will.

Not Dindymene, or Phoebus, so o'ercomes
In Delphic cave the senses of his priests,
Nor Bacchus, — Corybants at feasts
Never so beat the drums,—

As doth sour Wrath; which not fierce fire can end,
Nor Noric sword-blade, nor ship-wrecking sea, 10

No, nor great Jove himself, though he
With thunderous roar descend.

The Odes — Book I 17

Prometheus, forced, to man's primeval shell,
Some grain to add from all things living cut,
A raging lion's fury put
Man's natural gall to swell.

Wrath, of Thyestes' dreadful doom was cause;
Wrath, on proud cities for dire issues falls,
When vengeful foe along their walls
The hostile ploughshare draws. 20

Check the first heats ! Me too, in sweet sunshine
Of youth's heyday, frenzy of passion rent,
And to calumnious Epodes sent
This foolish pen of mine.

But now these sours to exchange for sweets I'm fain,
If thou'lt be kind, and of thy favour grant,
That hearing me my gibes recant,
Thy heart thou'lt give again.

XVII
TO TYNDARIS

Oft Faunus hastes to quit the Arcadian dales,
And taste instead our Sabine upland's charm,
Guarding my goats from summer's harm
And winter's watery gales.

Through the safe groves their way the she-goats take,
They and their odorous mate, and crop the bed
Of thyme or arbute, nor need dread
Ambush of sea-green snake,

Or of Haedilia's wolves that Mars loves well, —
Let but the polished rocks the notes repeat 10

Of shepherds' piping clear and sweet,
In sloped Ustica's dell.

1 8 Horace

Heaven is my guardian, for to heaven is dear
My pious meed of song. Here then shall pour
From Plenty's horn abounding store
Of gifts thy heart to cheer.

Here in deep vale the Dogstar's fire thou'lt shun;
And to thy Teian harp thou'lt sing to me
Green Circe and Penelope,

Smit both with love of one. 20

shalt thou drink mild Lesbian in the cool.
But never fear lest Bacchus here may fight,
At odds with Mars : no need for fright
Lest Cyrus play the fool,

And on thy tender strength, for his no match,
Lay his rude hands in wrath, the crown to tear
that clings amid thy wealth of hair,
Or thy kind kirtle snatch.

XVIII

TO VARUS

For no tree, Varus, rather than Heaven's vine

be furrow made,
Round Tibur's mellow tilth, and the old walls

by Catilus laid.
For, to the sober, Heaven makes every task

more hard to bear;
And by no other magic than by wine

flies carking care.

Who after wine grumbles at toils of war

or stinted days?

Who does not rather thee, Sire Bacchus, sing,-

thee, Venus, praise?

The Odes — Book I 19

But the old tale how Centaurs drunken fought

the Lapithae,
Warns us the modest Wine-god's gifts to use

in modest way.

And Bacchus warns us too, on Thracians base

who wreaked his ire,

When they no boundary drew 'twixt good and ill

save foul desire. 10

0 god in shining fox-skin clad, thy power,

unless thou bid

1 will not rouse, nor sacred things of thine

in pied leaves hid

Shall I reveal ! Cease, fool, thy savage drums

and Thracian horn !

Blind Love of Self comes in their train, and Pride,

lifting in scorn

An empty head, which in its emptiness

past bounds doth swell;

Comes too unfaithful Faith, clearer than glass

hid things to tell.

XIX

IX PRAISE OF GLYCERA

Venus, of love the mother stern.

And Theban Semele's son. and wanton Ease,
Bid me once more my mind concern

With the dear joys that long had ceased to please.

Melts my fond heart the dainty hue

Fair Glycera shows, than Parian stone more white;
Melts me her pretty skill to woo,

Her glance for lovers' eyes too dazzling bright.

Venus, her Cyprus quitting, leads

'Gainst me' full force; no talk for me, how teems 10
Scythia with war, how wheel their steeds

The Parthians tierce, — or other alien themes.

2O Horace

Here set me, lads, live turf four-square;

The incense bring, and chains of greenery bind ;
The cup of ritual wine prepare;

A lamb once slain, She'll haply come more kind.

TO MAECENAS

Here from a homely cup plain Sabine wine
Thou'lt quaff. Stored in a Grecian jar it stands,
My seal on't, set that year, Maecenas mine,
When clapping hands

In theatre, dear knight, thy coming greeted ;
So loud, that thy ancestral Tiber's banks
And Vatican in echo gay repeated
The praiseful thanks.

Caecuban vintage thy home goblets fills;
The clustered grapes at Cales pressed, are thine. 10

But vines Falernian, or from Formiae's hills,
Temper not mine.

XXI

HYMN TO LATONA AND HER CHILDREN

Hymn to Diana, tender maidens, raise;

You boys, to unshorn Cynthian Phoebus sing;

Sing her, too, whom Heaven's King
Loves dearly, sing Latona's praise.

Sing, girls, of her who joys in mountain rills,
And leafage on cold Algidus that grows,

Or on green Cragus shows
Or Erymanthus' pine-gloomed hills.

The Odes — Book 1 2 i

By you, boys, with like praise be Tempe named,

And Delos, his birth-isle. His shoulder sing, 10

With quiver glittering
And with the lyre his brother framed.

He shall from Rome and Caesar bear away
Dire famine, pestilence, and tearful war

To Medes and Britons far,
Heart-melted by the prayers ye pray.

XXII

LALAG£

TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS

He that is clean of life, and pure from ill,
Needs not to be with Moorish darts equipped
Or bow ; no case with arrows need he fill
In poison dipped,

Whether o'er burning Afric wastes he go,
Or Caucasus, to strangers never kind;
Or where Hydaspes' fabled river, slow
His course doth wind.

Mark thou the proof ! Past bounds in Sabine glade
Singing of Lalage I strolled unthinking; 10

When lo ! a wolf, of unarmed me afraid,
Fled cowardly slinking.

Yet he so huge a beast that the wide woods
Of warlike Daunus feed not such another,
No, nor swart Juba's coast, of lion broods
The sunparched mother.

Place me where o'er the dull and frost-bound plain
No tree is e'er by summer's breath restored.
Beneath a sky where endless beats the rain

And storm abhorred ; 20

22 Horace

Or to a homeless land my steps exile,
Where the fierce sungod's car rolls all too near;
My Lalage's sweet voice, her gentle smile,
Shall still be dear.

XXIII
CHLOE

Thou shun'st me, Chloe, ev'n as might a fawn
That for his timid dam on pathless hills

Searches, while terror thrills
At sound of breeze through woodlands drawn.

Perchance Spring's advent down the quivering brakes
A whisper sends, or lizards green are peeping,

Through bramble-bushes creeping;
Forthwith in heart and knees he quakes !

But not like Afric lion I pursue,

Or tiger grim, thy tender flesh to eat; 10

Cease for thy dam to bleat,—
Full ripe by now if lover woo.

XXIV
QUINTILIUS

Why blush that for a friend so dear we've grieved,
Why stint our tears ? Fit songs of woe inspire,
Melpomene, who from Heaven's mighty Sire
Voice crystal clear and lyre received !

Now on Quintilius broods the burden drear
Of sleep unending ! WThen shall Modesty,
And Justice' sister, proud Integrity,
And naked Truth, find one his peer?

The Odes — Book I 23

A many good men mourn him ; Virgil, friend,
None mourn him more than thou ! But all in vain 10
Thy pious vows ask him from Heaven again,
Whom thou to Heaven not so didst lend.

Though to thy touch lyre-notes more sweet were given,
Than Orpheus swayed for listening trees to learn,
Not then to the pale form would blood return
Which with stern rod once Mercury's driven

To join the ghostly crowd. Howe'er thou prayed,
Ne'er should'st thou move him Death's doom to repeal.
'Tis hard ! But ills which Fate forbids to heal,
Are by endurance lighter made. 20

XXV
TO A BEAUTY FADED

More sparingly youths batter than of yore
On thy closed casements, in their wanton game ;
No longer do they spoil thy sleep; the door
Clings to its frame,

Which on an easy hinge of old would move
At call. Not now, as then, art wont to hear
" 0 Lydia, sleepest thou, while thus thy love
Lies dying near? '

An old hag soon, the scorn in turn thou'lt wail
Of insolent lechers, in some alley lone, 10

While 'twixt moons old and new the northern gale
Shall fiercely moan;

And torturing passion such as mares besets,
And hot desire, shall like a furnace glow
About thy plague-corroded heart, which frets
This truth to know, —

24 Horace

That youths to ivy old prefer the young, —
To myrtle dried, wreaths of a richer shade;
And to cold Hebrus, winter's mate, have flung

The leaves that fade. 20

XXVI
IN HONOUR OF LAMIA

Protected by the Muses, fear and grief
I will toss from me, for the lusty blast
Into the Cretan sea to cast.
Naught heed I whom as chief

They dread o'er Arctic wastes, what fears appal
A Tiridates. Thou who dost rejoice
In founts fresh-struck, 0 let thy choice,
Sweet Muse, on Lamia fall !

For him twine sunny wreaths; and since my praise
Is naught without thee, tune thy Lesbian lyre; 10
And hymns, thou and thy sister choir,
In Lamia's honour raise !

XXVII
OF WINE AND LOVE

What, wield in quarrel cups for pleasure meant?
That were a Thracian trick ! Such barbarous mood
Forbear, and Bacchus kind and good
From bloody strife prevent!

With wine and lights accordeth marvellous ill
The dirk a Mede might use. Hush, friends, 0 cease
Your impious clamour; and for peace
Keep elbows resting still !

The Odes — Book I 25

You'd have me too your heady vintage try?
Then let Megylla's brother, our fair guest ic

From Opus, say what arrow blest
Makes him with love to die.

Thou'rt loth to name h^r? On these terms alone
I'll taste. Whoe'er the dear unknown may be,
No flame to blush for singes thee ;
'Tis gentle dame, or none.

Drop in my ears (they're safe ones) just the name !
What say'st thou ? That jade ? In what whirl,
What fell Charybdis pool didst swirl,

Youth worth a nobler flame ! 20

What witch, what wizard with Thessalian brew,
What god shall save ? A Pegasus might toil,
Yet scarce from such Chimaera's coil
Threefold, shall bear thee through!

XXVIII
ARCHYTAS

Though in thy time, Archytas, skilled to weigh
The immeasurable sands and earth and sea,

Poor gift of trivial dust by Matine bay
Confines thee now ! Little avails to thee

The starry heights to have scaled, and to its end

Heaven's arch surveyed, since doomed at length to die !

So Tantalus died, yet he to gods was friend;
Tithonus too, though love-borne to the sky.

Minos, Jove's confidant, died. Hell will not yield
Twice-born Pythagoras now. Once more he's fared 10

To Death's dark realm, though he unfixed his shield
From temple-wall, proving Troy's war he shared,-

26 Horace

And that, then dying, naught to Death he passed
But flesh and skin ; though too, as thou dost know,

No mean judge he of Nature. At the last

One night waits all; Death's road we all must go.

The Furies some to gloating Mars assign;

Of some the insatiate Sea his meal doth make.
Thick perish young and old ; and Proserpine

Fails not from each in turn a lock to take. 20

Me the Southwind, which ever comes in storm
When sets Orion, whelmed in Hadria's wave.

0 sailor, to this poor unburied form

Grudge not unkindly the small boon I crave, —

A pinch of sand ! For thee thus kind I'll vow:

" When 'gainst Hesperian waves the Eastwind's driven,

Let the Venusian woods be tost, but thou

Unharmed remain ! Let guerdon free be given

By Jove who's just and can give, Neptune too,
The god who guards Tarentum's sacred fane ! ' 30

Art thou so reckless as foul wrong to do,

Which may for doom to thy poor babes remain ?

Scorn of thy rights may yet such wrong repay;

Then shall my vengeance come ! Nor gift nor groan
Shall save ! Brief, though thou haste, the needful stay;

Thou'rt free to run, when thrice the dust is thrown.

XXIX

TO ICCIUS

On wealthy Arabs' coffers and their gains
Hast thou an eye, planning for Sheba's Kings,
Untamed as yet, most dreadful things
In war, and forging chains

The Odes — Book I 27

For the fierce Mede ? What virgin hast in hand
(First having slain her lover) thy swart slave
To make ? What cupbearer dost crave
Behind thy chair to stand,

Locks all perfumed, a princeling he with skill
From heirloom bow to shoot shafts of Cathay? 10
Who'll deny now that prone streams may
(Ev'n Tiber) flow uphill,

When after all thy better promise, thou
Who for Panaetius' tomes the shops did range,
These and all Socrates' school would'st change
For Spanish corslets now ?

XXX
TO VENUS

0 thou, of Cnidos and of Paphus queen,
Spurn thy loved Cyprus, and at Glycera's call,
Who with much incense greets thee, be thou seen
In her fair hall !

Be visitant with thee thy glowing boy,
Graces loose-zoned, and Nymphs, and with their crew
Youth, who without thy aid brings little joy;
Mercury too !

XXXI

TO APOLLO

What craves the bard from Apollo on his throne ?
What asks, as from the cup new wine he drops ?
No fertile acreage of crops
In rich Sardinia grown !

28 Horace

No fat herds such as hot Calabria breeds,
Gold, ivory of Ind, or meadows gay,
Such as swoln Liris eats away,
The happy poet needs.

Let Fortune's favourites prune their Calene vines;
With Syrian wares let the rich merchant buy, 10

And from gold cups drink joyously,
The dearly bartered wines ;

Surely of Heaven a favourite indeed,
Since thrice or more a year the Atlantic sea
He can revisit safe. But me
Olives and endives feed,

And mallows light. Grant, god, that with my lot
I live content, hale, and still fresh my gift,—
Grant that in age I may not drift

Long years, my lyre forgot ! 20

XXXII
ON RECEIVING A REQUEST FOR A SONG

I have a call ! If ever song, with fire
To outlive one year or more, we've sung for pleasure,
just mine and thine, — swell now, my Grecian lyre,
The Latin measure !

Alcaeus 'twas, that Lesbian patriot stark,
Who tuned thee first, and when he'd fiercely fought,
Or had on dripping shore his storm-tost bark
To anchor brought,

He sang the Muses, Bacchus, Venus fair,
And Cupid, who upon her still attended; 10

Of Lycus too he sang, with raven hair
And dark eyes splendid.

The Odes — Book I 29

Phoebus' delight, Shell welcome to the board
Of Jove, my heartaches be it thine with might
To soothe, whenever the invoking word
I sing aright !

XXXIII
TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS, A BROTHER POET

Grieve not, Tibullus, nor past bounds repine thee,
Brooding o'er Glycera's hardness thus so long
In doleful elegies, as though 'twere wrong
For some one younger to outshine thee.

Lovely low-browed Lycoris, a like fate
Torments, for love of Cyrus. He in turn
To the sour Pholoe swerves. But ere she burn
For one so plain, she-goats will mate

With fierce Apulian wolves. That so 'tis best
Venus decrees, whose joy it is to bind 10

Body ill-matched with body, mind with mind,
In her stern yoke, — a gruesome jest.

So with myself. A gentler charmer smiled,
But Myrtale my soul love-bound did hold;
A freedgirl she, than Hadria's seas more bold
Which sweep Calabria's inlets wild.

XXXIV
HORACE A CONVERT

Spare and infrequent pietist was I
While, skilled in the philosophy of fools,
I strayed. Now back from all the schools
Reversed my course I try

30 Horace

Towards whence I came. For Jove, who's wont to rend
High-towering stormclouds with his lightning's flash,
Now through clear sky with thunder's crash
His steeds hath willed to send.

Whereat dull Earth, swift Streams, and Styx abhorred,
And the ill-omened Taenaran caves are shaking, 10

And Atlas, the world's limit, quaking.
Now know I, Heaven's strong lord

Can change high things for low. The proud he breaks,
And lifts the obscure to light. Like bird of prey,
Chance with a whoop tears crown away,
And, pleased, elsewhither takes.

XXXV

TO THE GODDESS FORTUNE

Goddess, of thy loved Antium queen, and strong
Poor mortals to upraise of low degree,
Or change to funeral pageantry
A triumph's haughty throng,

To thee cries rustic hind with fond appeal ;
To thee, true mistress of the main, they cry,
Who the Carpathian waters try
With their Bithynian keel !

Rude Dacians fear thee, and Scythians swift of flight;
Fear Cities, Tribes, and Latium proud of mien; 10

Fears every Eastern mother-queen,
And Tyrants' purple might, —

Lest with stern foot thou should'st the pillar shake
That bears their lordship up, and clamorous swarms
Should rouse the slow with call to arms,
And the proud empire break.

The Odes — Book I 3 i

Before thy mighty coming still doth tread
Stern Fate, who in her brazen hand bears high
The clamps and bolts of destiny.

Strong hook and molten lead ! 20

Hope and rare Faith white-robed upon thee wait,
Thy comrades still, ev'n when with garments changed
Thou passest forth, a friend estranged,
From mansions of the great.

Then 'tis that harlot false and traitorous folk
Slip forth and go. When drained ev'n to the lees
The casks go dry, each flatterer flees,
Too base to share the yoke.

Our Caesar, to world-ending Britain bound,
O do thou save ! Save Rome's young soldier bands, 30
That to Red Sea and Eastern lands
Their name may terror sound !

Woe's me, I blush for each ill-deed, each scar,
Each brother slain ! What have we feared to essay,
A race accurst ? What evil way
E'er shunned ? What deed of war

Through fear of Heaven have Romans blenched to do?
What shrines left unpolluted? 0 would'st thou
'Gainst Goth and Arab temper now

Blunt blade on anvil new ! 40

XXXVI
IN NUMIDA'S HONOUR

With incense and with lyre 'tis brave

Ay, and with well-earned blood of calf, to bless

The gods who Numida did save !

He now from furthest Spain in peacefulness

32 Horace

Returned, gives kisses of good-will

To each fond friend, but more to none doth bring
Than to lov'd Lamia, mindful still

Of schoolboy days fagged for no other " King,"

And schoolboy gown cast off with his.

Let not the white mark fail on day so blest, 10

Nor wine-jar spare at feast like this !

Let not the feet in Salian steps have rest,

Nor Damalis, who loves her wine,

Beat Bassus in a drinking match to-night !

Spare not the roses, wreaths to twine ;
Spare not brief lily, or the parsley bright !

On Damalis, each man love-lorn

Fond eyes will cast. But by no languishing

Will she from her new love be torn,—

Closer than wanton ivy shall she cling. 20

XXXVII
CLEOPATRA

Now 'tis the hour for wine, now without check
To trip it gaily, now with feasts sublime
Worthy a Salian board, 'twas time
Each deity's place to deck !

Who could till now his Caecuban exhume
From bins ancestral, while a queen designed
For Rome's high seat destruction blind,
And for Rome's empire doom,—

She, and her plague-scarred crew of evil fame,
Reckless enough to dream joys without bound, 10
And in sweet fortune's frenzies drowned?
But pause to madness came,

The Odes — Book i

When scarce one ship from burning she could save !
Her soul, with Mareotic wine o'erwrought,
Caesar to real terrors brought,
When he from Italy drave

Her flight, and tracked her o'er the sea (as track
Hawks the soft dove, or as swift hunters ply
A hare in snow-clad Thessaly),

Minded a plague so black 20

To enchain. But she, seeking her end to grace
By nobler dying, feared not as woman might
The sword's keen edge, nor sought by flight
Some seaward hiding-place;

Dared ev'n to look upon her Court o'erthrown
With eye serene, and with untrembling lip
The deadly hissing asps to grip,
And drink their venom down.

With death resolved upon, more proud her mien;
Scorning that such as she, in hostile sloop 30

Her foes like some poor trull should coop
For triumph, her, a queen 1

XXXVIII
IN PRAISE OF SIMPLICITY

Your Persian pomps, my lad, I cannot brook;
Chaplets with linden laced suit not my brow;
Summer's last rose seek not, in what odd nook
It lingers now.

Think not with gaudy splendours to replace
The simple myrtle. Myrtle, to my thinking,
Thee at thy service, me not less will grace
In vine-bower drinking.

C5'5

THE ODES— BOOK II
I

TO POLLIO

The civil broils which from Metellus date,—
Motives, mistakes, manoeuvres, — irony
Of Fortune, — Chiefs' conspiracy, —
Arms stained in mutual hate

By blood not yet atoned, — so runs the rede
With hazard fraught, which thy bold pen aspires
To trace, while over hidden fires
The treacherous foot- tracks lead.

Our stage must miss awhile thy tragic vein ;
But when Rome's tale is ended, thou'lt take on 10
Thy great Athenian role, and don
The buskin, once again.

Stay of desponding suitors, Stay as true
Of senate in debate, thou didst beat down
Dalmatia, and a triumph's crown
For thee the laurel grew.

Ev'n now the threat'ning din assails my ear
Of honis, and bugles' blare ; now the fierce light
Of flashing arms scares steeds to flight,

And blanches men with fear. 20

I mark of heroes dead the mighty scroll,
With no inglorious dust in death bestrewed;
And the whole orb of earth subdued,
Save Cato's dauntless soul.

The Odes — Book II 35

Juno, and what powers else failed to defend
The Africa they loved, old wrongs repay
To slain Jugurtha; for they slay
His slayers in the end.

What field with Roman gore did we not feed ?
What, proves not by its graves our impious war, 30
And Roman ruin heard afar
Ev'n by the distant Mede?

What strait, what stream, can ignorant remain
Of our curst strife ? What sea, with Latin blood
Was not full many a time imbrued ?
What shore bears not its stain?

Ah, wayward Muse, such themes fit thee but ill !
Dirge of Simonides, a singer grave,

They need ! Come seek, in Venus' cave,

Strains of a lighter quill ! 40

II
TO SALLUSTIUS CRISPUS

No sheen hath silver while the greedy mine
Keeps it close hid. Nor fairer to thine eyes
The minted metal shows, unless it shine
With usage wise.

Through length of days shall Proculeius' name
Live, for paternal care to brothers shown;
On unrelaxing wing a deathless fame
Shall bear him on.

A bigger power is his, who can subdue
Greed in the heart, than if his rule controlled 10

The earth from Spain to Libya, — Carthage too,
Both New and Old.

36 Horace

By self-indulgence fed, daily afresh
The greed-plague grows, unless from out the veins
The taint's expelled, and from the pallid flesh
The dropsy drains.

On Cyrus' throne Phrahates reigns anew;

Yet Truth, that thinks not with the mob, denies

A place to him among the happy few.

From custom's lies 20

She fain would wean us, granting to him alone
A real crown and a sure triumph's bays,
Who; though piled ingots in his vision shone,
Not twice would gaze.

Ill

TO DELLIUS

Brace thee, my friend, when times are hard, to show
A mind unmoved ; nor less, when fair thy state,
A sober joy. For Death doth wait
As surely, whether woe

Dogs all thy days, or fortune bids thee bask
On peaceful lawn reclined while life goes well,
And quaff thy wine, from inner cell
Drawn at Falernian cask.

Why else do soaring pine and poplar white
Love with twined boughs a hospitable nook 10

Thus to enlace ? Why speeds the brook
Thus swift in swirling flight?

Hither the wine-cup, scents, and short-lived flowers
Of the gay rose, bid bring; while years, estate,
And the three Sisters' threads of fate
Grudge not the golden hours !

The Odes — Book II 37

Soon shalt thou pass from each fair purchased field ;
From home, from seat where yellow Tiber rolled,
Thou'lt pass; and all thy treasured gold

Thou to thy heir shalt yield. 20

Whether from ancient blood, to wealth and fame
Thou'rt born,, or whether poor and base of birth
Thou lingerest stretched on pauper earth,
Grim Death strikes just the same.

To the same bourne we're driven; in the urn for all
Death spins a lot that must erelong be cast,
And each in Charon's boat at last
To endless exile call.

IV
TO XANTHIAS

Blush not, my Phocian friend, that thou dost love
A pretty slave-girl ! Others have felt the smart.
Briseis though a slave had pow'r to move
Achilles' heart

With her white beauty. Ajax, Telamon's son,
Was with his slave Tecmessa's grace enraptured;
Atrides loved, even amid triumph won,
A maid he'd captured;

What time Achilles o'er Troy's hosts prevailed,
And with great Hector ousted from the fray, 10

The wearied Greeks Troy's citadel assailed,
An easier prey.

Haply her folks are rich, and wealth may come
To him who fair-haired Phyllis weds ; the glory
Of some blood-royal hers, of her fall'n home
She mourns the story.

38 Horace

Think not at least that e'er from tainted breed
Thy darling's sprung; that one for faith so famed,
So proof 'gainst filthy lucre, could proceed

From mother shamed. 20

As for her ankles trim, her arms, her face,
On my chaste praise put not thy prohibition,—
Praise which my fortieth birthday passed should place
Beyond suspicion.

V
OF LALAGE

Not yet is She of strength the yoke to wear
With subject neck, or the dear stress to meet
Of mutual love, and of bull's heat
The amorous rage to bear.

About the verdant fields thy heifer's mind
Still circles, now the summer's glow in pool
Appeasing, now 'neath sallows cool
Eager her sport to find

'Mid skipping calves. No longer fondly sigh
For grapes unripe ; soon richly dark for thee 10

Autumn, skilled limner, shalt thou see
The purple clusters dye.

Soon she'll seek thee. Unbending Time flits past,
And years which mean thy loss, to her he'll lend
For gain ; then Lalage will mend
Her ways, and try to cast

Her charm on thee; dear as shy Pholoe
Ne'er was, or Chloris, though with shoulders white
She shone as fair as moon by night

Gleaming across the sea. 20

The Odes — Book II 39

Ev'n than young Gyges sweeter she'll be deemed.,
Though he 'mid maidens placed could show as fair,
Shrewd strangers puzzling, such his hair,

So girlish-faced he seemed.

VI
IN PRAISE OF TIBUR AND TARENTUM

Septimius, thou wouldst ev'n to Cadiz haste,
If I went too, — or to Cantabria, slow
Our yoke to take, or to the Afric waste
Where fiercely flow

The Moorish tides. Yet better to mv mind.

^ j

Did Argive Tibur shelter my old age;
There rest from toils by land and sea I'd find,
And battle's rage.

If harsh Fates frown me thence, I'll seek the clime
Where the Galaesus flows, where sheep are trained 10
Skin-coats to wear, and where in Spartan time
Phalanthus reigned.

Fairest on earth that little nook of ground
Smiles to my sight, nor doth Hymettus bear
Honeys more sweet; Venaf rum's oil hath found
Its rival there.

There winters mild and springs that softly sigh
Kind Jove affords. There Aulon's vineyards blessed
By fruitful Bacchus, clusters can defy

Falernian-pressed. 20

That is the spot, those the blest heights that cheer
Us two to dwell in. There shalt thou imbue
Thy poet-friend's warm ashes with a tear
To friendship due.

40 Horace

VII

TO POMPEIUS

Friend who didst oft with me in danger stand,
When Brutus led our war, what man at last
Hath giv'n thee back, thy warfare past,
To native gods and land?

My earliest comrade thou in that far day,
When oft I sped the lingering hours with wine,
While my wreathed locks would brightly shine,
With Syrian unguents gay.

With thee Philippi's rout I knew full well,
When in ignoble flight I dropped my shield, 10

While Valour brake, and on the field
High hearts to ruin fell.

But me through the foe's ranks did Mercury urge,
And mist-enwrapped his trembling votary bore;
Thee battle's wave sucked back once more
Across the boiling surge.

Pay then to Jove the gift his kindness asks;
And rest thy body, by long service worn,
Beneath my laurel shade, nor scorn

Thy share of treasured casks. 20

Fill the bright cups with wine that conquers care;
From the wide phials unguents liberal shed !
Who shall moist parsley for each head,
Or myrtle wreaths, prepare ?

Whom shall the lucky throw of Venus greet
Lord of our cups? Not wiselier I'll carouse
Than Thracians might. With friend in house
Mad Folly's self is sweet.

The Odes— Book II 41

VIII

TO BARIN£

Did aught of penalty for perjured truth
Once in thy life, Barine, overtake thee;
Did ev'n one blemished nail or blackened tooth
Less charming make thee,

I'd take thy word ! But with each vow forsworn,
Even thou shin'st the more enchanting woman;
Stepping the naughty streets, tormentor born
Of every Roman.

It hurts thee not to invoke thy mother dead,
Or the stern stars, for witness to thy lying, 10

Nay, the whole canopy of heaven outspread,
And gods undying.

Venus herself, methinks, laughs at thy guile,
The Nymphs must laugh, their simple truth forgetting;
Wroth Cupid too, on blood-drenched stone the while
Hot arrows whetting.

There's worse behind ! New broods grow for thy sport,
Destined in turn to wear the yoke they're born to;
Nor do thy elder bondslaves cease their court,

Though oft they've sworn to. 20

Thee for their growing cubs the mothers dread,
Thee skinflint sires ! Girls tremble when they marry,
Lest glint of thee wile from the bridal bed
Their men to tarry.

*C5r5

42 Horace

IX
TO VALGIUS

Not always from black clouds the rainstorm pours
Upon the sodden fields; the gusty sleet
Doth not for aye the Caspian beat,
Nor on Armenian shores

Stands, Valgius, through all months the ice as hard.
Gargan's great oaks do not for ever toss,
Nor ash-tree mourn of leaves the loss,
By storms continuous scarred !

But thou dost never cease thy dreary wails,
Harping on Mystes dead; nor do thy sighs 10

End when the Evening Star doth rise,
Nor when at dawn he pales.

Not so did the thrice-aged Nestor keep
Mourning for aye his dear Archilochus;
Not so did for young Troilus
His sire and sisters weep.

0 cease at length to bruit thus thy woe
In womanish plaints ! Better for us to sing
Augustus Caesar's triumphing;

How with less boastful flow 20

Wintry Niphates and the Median tide,
Ranked with the conquered now, go slinking past;
How the Gelonians cooped at last
In narrower limits ride.

The Odes— Book II

TO LICINIUS

Safer thou'lt sail life's voyage, if them steer
Neither right out to sea, nor yet, when rise
The threat'ning tempests, hug the shore too near,
Unwisely wise.

What man soe'er the golden mean doth choose,
Prudent will shun the hovel's foul decay;
But with like sense, a palace will refuse
And vain display.

It is the lofty pine that by the storm
Is oftener tost; towers fall with heavier crash 10

Which higher soar; where lifts the mountain's form,
There lightnings flash.

A mind well-schooled hopes, when the skies show stern,
When they show kindly, fears, a change of states;
For Jove, who leads black storms afield, in turn
Those storms abates.

Think not if days are gloomy now, that so
'Twill be erelong. With lyre Apollo wakes
The Muse at times to song, nor his stern bow

Forever shakes. 20

In adverse hours show thee a man of mind
And mettle. Yet not less thou'lt wisely know
To reef the prosperous sails, when comes the wind
Too good to blow.

44 Horace

TO HIRPINUS QUINCTIUS

What the Cantabrians bold design to do
Or Scythian horsemen, care not to inquire;
Broad Hadria parts us from their ire !
Nor seek thou to pursue

Plans for the needs of life, they're small at best.
Swift from our cheeks youth's tender blooms are fled,
And wizened age eftsoons hath sped
Love's joys, and easy rest.

Spring's flowers, howe'er they bloom, must fade again;
Not always with like glow the moon appears. 10

Why fret thy mind with hopes or fears
Remote from mortal ken ?

WThy not 'neath lofty plane upon the sward,
Or at our ease beneath this pine repose,
Scenting our grizzled hair with rose,
And with Assyrian nard

Perfumed, drink while we may? The Wine-god routs
Corroding cares. What boy from sparkling spring
Water to soothe the heats will bring

Of our Falernian bouts ? 20

Pest, Lyde lives so far! Who'll wile the jade
Hither to haste, — she and her ivory lyre, —
Coiling her hair in simple tire,
As might a Spartan maid ?

The Odes — Book II 45

XII

TO MAECENAS

The tedious wars fought by Numantia's kings, —
Grim Hannibal, — the blot on Sicily's seas
Of Punic blood, — thou wouldst not themes like these
Hear sung to cithern's gentle strings,

More than thou wouldst the savage Lapithae's fall,
Drunken Hylaeus, or the giant band
By Hercules tamed, when with assailing hand
They shook the shining palace hall

Of ancient Saturn. Thou thyself shalt tell,
In prose more eloquent than poet's song, 10

Caesar's great deeds, and proud kings led along
Neck-bound through Rome for spectacle.

Me the Muse taught Licymnia's powers to approve,
The dulcet singing of our lady fair,
Her brightly flashing eyes, and heart most rare
In true exchange of love for love.

Right well she shows guiding in dance her feet,
Sharing in war of wits, or hand in hand
Sporting with fair Diana's maiden band,

As on Diana's day is meet. 20

Wouldst thou for wealthiest Eastern monarch's hoard,
Or for the gold of Midas, Phrygia's king,
One hair of thy belov'd Licymnia bring
To barter, — or for ingots stored

In Arabs' vaults; when to warm lips' appeal
Her neck she stoops, or with kind sternness checks
The boon she'd have thee snatch? Little she recks,
At times, herself, first kiss to steal.

Horace

XIII

TO A FALLEN TREE

He on an evil day, whate'er his name,
Planted thee first, and nurtured thee with hand
'Gainst future generations bann'd,
And for the township's shame !

Him I might deem to have strangled his own sire,
Or drenched his sacred hearth-stone with the gore
Of guest by night. All Colchian lore
He knew, of poisonings dire,

Nay, every villainy e'er dreamt, who dared
Plant sorry log like thee by my homestead, 10

That on thy blameless master's head
To tumble was prepared.

What hourly to avoid by none is known.
The Punic sailor fears wild Bosphorus' strait,
Nor dreams of unseen deaths that wait
Elsewhere to strike him down.

Rome's soldier fears the speeding Parthian's bow;
The Parthian dreads Italian cell and chains;
Fate unforeseen for each remains,

And lays the nations low. 20

How near was I dark Pluto's realms to view,
Judge Aeacus, and the fields where blest souls dwell!
How nearly heard I Sappho tell
On Lesbian lyre anew

Her sighs for Lesbian girls ; and louder far
Thy voice, Alcaeus, sing to golden quill
Sea perils, exile's tales of ill,
And all the woes of war !

The Odes — Book II 47

From both alike the ghosts a music hear
Worth reverent silence. But the jostling rout, 30

His tales of war and kings cast out
Drink in with greedier ear.

What wonder, when, dazed by that wizard song,
The hundred-headed beast his black ears droops,
And each fell Fury's snake-brood swoops
With joy her hair among?

His ancient pain no more Prometheus frets
Or Pelops' sire, so sweet the music's grace.
Lion and timid lynx to chase

Orion quite forgets. 40

XIV
TO POSTUMUS

Ah ! Postumus, Postumus, fast fly the years,
And prayers to wrinkles and impending age
Bring not delay; nor shalt assuage
Death's stroke with pious tears;

No, not though on each day that comes to thee
With thrice a hundred bulls thou sought to gain
Grim Pluto's pity, all were vain !
Great Geryon he'll not free,

Or Tityos, from the gloomy stream, whose tide
Each child of earth must traverse shore to shore, 10
Whether a crown on earth we bore,
Or crofters lived and died.

Vainly from bloody stroke of Mars we'll run,
Or the hoarse Adriatic's surge escape ;
Vainly our autumn plans we'll shape
The southwind's blight to shun;

48 Horace

Still must our steps to dark Cocytus trend,
That sluggish stream, and Danaids' ill-famed clan,
And Sisyphus who bears the ban

Of labour without end. 20

Forth must thou go from home and kindly sward
And wife beloved, nor shall one tree that late
Was thine, save funeral cypress, wait
On thee, its short-lived lord.

The heir, thy better now, shall quaff the wine
A hundred keys did guard ; his reckless hand
Shall stain thy floors with vintage-brand,
For pontiffs' feasts too fine.

OLD TIMES AND NEW

Soon few for tilth the acres will remain,
Such princely piles we raise. On every side
Fishponds, than Lucrine lake more wide,
We'll see. The bachelor-plane

Will oust vine-wedded elms; and violets blue,
And myrtle's fragrance, and flower-scents untold,
Will scatter sweetness, where of old
The owner olives grew.

Soon sultry sunshine by thick-planted bays
Will be shut off. Not so taught Romulus' rule, 10
Or the unshaven Cato's school,
And old folks' simpler ways.

WTith them men's private wealth was scant indeed,
But great the common good. No colonnade
With northern outlook yielded shade,
To please a private greed.

The Odes— Book II 49

None dared for house-building chance turf eschew;
Cities and public temples, these at most
The laws bade deck at public cost

With pomp of stonework new, 20

XVI
TO GROSPHUS

Peace from the gods the sailor craves if caught
In open Aegean Sea, when clouds arise
And hide the moon, and guiding stars show naught
To watchers' eyes:

Peace Thrace desires, when rage of war burns high;
Peace, Parthian bowmen, while they bear the quiver:
Peace, that by gems or gold or purple's dye
Is purchased never.

For not king's wealth nor consul's power can daunt
The angry passions which keep souls in thrall,
Or the fell cloud of carking cares which haunt
The fretted hah.

Well yet at little cost he lives, who shows
No silver on his board to outshine his sire's;
His easy sleep nor sordid terror knows,
Nor mean desires.

Why, when so brief our day, shoot we so wild
At marks so many ? Why quit home to find
Lands warmed by other suns? \Vho, self-exiled,

Leaves self behind ? '.

Soul-cankering Care climbs mighty ships, though ringed
With brass ; riders she dogs across the plain ;
Swifter is she than deer, or tempests winged
With clouds of rain.

50 Horace

Let not his mind, who's happy now, be fixed
On distant ills,, but soothe life's present pavns
With imperturbable smile ; a good unmixed
For none remains.

Brief was Achilles' life, but great his fame !
Tithonus wastes and wastes, but still must live. 30

So what Time keeps from thee, perchance that same
To me he'll give.

Round thee a hundred flocks and heifers low,
Sicilian bred ; to greet thee whinnies loud
A mare, for chariot fit; thy vestments show
Adornment proud

Twice purple-dyed. Fate grants me small estate,
But with it, breath of the Greek Muse's air;
And granting, too, of vulgar insolence hate,

Grants me full share. 40

XVII
TO MAECENAS SICK

Why with forebodings would'st thou break me down?
It pleaseth not thy friend, no, nor high Heaven,
That from my love thou should'st be riven,
My pillar and my crown !

Ah ! why should I, if earlier stroke of fate
Steals my best half, to the worse portion cling, —
Less dear, a dead dismembered thing?
Like hour for both shall wait

To end us ! No deserter's oath I've said !
Be it that thou shalt lead, close on thee, friend, 10

I'll follow, ready to its end
The last dark road to tread.

The Odes— Book II 51

Not gust of the Chimaera's fiery breath,
Nor hundred-handed Gyas, should he rise,
Shall part us ; so that Fates deem wise,
And Justice, strong as death !

Whether at birth Libra, or Scorpio's sting,
Burnt ominous my future to control,
Or Capricorn, that o'er the roll

Of western waves is King, — 20

At least my horoscope with thine must mate
In wondrous wise. For thee, Jove's star benign
Against ill Saturn's power did shine,
And checked the wings of Fate,

What time Rome's crowd through theatre thrice did send
Glad shouts to greet thee, once more hale and well;
For me, on hapless brainpan fell
A tree-trunk, and made end,

Had not kind Faunus saved me, guard divine
Of Mercury's guild. For thy debt see thou pay 30

Victims and votive shrine ; I'll slay
A humble lamb, for mine.

XVIII
TO A MISER

No ivory nor fretted gold
Along my palace wall or ceiling's wrought;

No costly Afric pillars hold
Rich beams, for me from Attic quarry brought.

Never have I, an unknown heir,
Upon an Attalus' domain laid hand ;

High damsels spin not for my wear
Laconian purples, at my proud command.

52 Horace

But honour's mine, and kindly vein
Of the true poet-gift. My humble door 10

Rich men frequent, nor should I gain
By worrying Heav'n, or my great friend, for more

Enough, nay amply, I am blest,
Having from him one gift, my Sabine home.

Each day drives other to the west,
And the new moons erelong to dying come;

Yet thou, whose days are nigh fulfilled,
Art all on marble quarryings intent,—

A palace, not a tomb, to build ;
Where strike the seas on Baiae, thou are bent 20

Seaward the line of shore to thrust;
And deem'st thee poor, so long as coasts constrain.

What shall men say, when such thy lust
That neighbours' landmarks thou dost lift for gain,

And past poor clients' marches leap ?
See, wife and husband wander forth, — her part,

Their gods in bosom clasped to keep,-
His, their poor babes to bear close to his heart!

Yet no great hall the purse-proud lord
Awaits at last more sure, than greedy Death 30

Shall at the appointed hour afford,—
Why larger build, why for aught else waste breath?

As wide as for the sons of Kings,
Their spot of earth is open for the poor.

Death's boatman takes no bribe, nor brings
Ev'n skilled Prometheus back from Hades' shore.

Tantalus' self, and Tantalus' son,
For all their pride, Death grimly prisons still.

The poor, when their day's darg is done,
Called or not called Death hears, ev'n 'gainst their will. 40

The Odes — Book II 53

XIX
A RHAPSODY TO BACCHUS

Bacchus I've seen, teaching 'mid rocks remote
(Believe it, later folks !) his Nymphs intent,
And goat-foot Satyr-beasts, who lent
Prick ears his songs to note.

Euoii with a strange awe my soul's possest;
Filled with the god, it joys beyond compare !
Spare, Bacchus, thy disciple spare;
Give thy dread vine-rod rest !

Now may I of thy tireless Bacchants sing;
Of founts of wine and milk, which start to greet 10
Thy coming, and of honeys sweet,
From hollow trunks that spring.

I may sing Ariadne's bridal crown
Transported to the stars; and Pentheus' hall
Parted asunder; and the fall
That hurled Lycurgus down.

Thou turnest streams and orient seas, at will;
Or on far peaks reposed, and drenched with wine,
Thy votaries' locks dost intertwine

With snakes, yet without ill. 20

When the foul Giants from the under-world
Scaled thy Sire's realms, then armed with lion's claws,
With lion's skin, and monstrous jaws,
Thou Rhoetus downward hurled.

Though fitter thou for dance and quaint caprice
And merry jest, nor apt for fighting known,
Yet equal master thou wast shown
Of war, as erst of peace.

54 Horace

Ev'n Cerberus harmlessly thy steps did greet
Seeing thy horn of gold ; and as thou went, 30

Tail-wagging his three tongues he bent
To lick thy limbs and feet.

HORACE A WORLD'S POET

On no stale wing or feeble shall I cleave,
Poet two-formed, athwart the liquid air;
No time on earth more shall I spare,
But cities' censure leave.

I whom they sneered at, " born of parents poor,"
I, dear Maecenas, " whom thou makest free
To bed and board," no death shall see,
Or prisoning Styx endure.

Scaly ev'n now upon my limbs doth show
The shrinking skin. Above, to Swan all white 10
I change, while feathers smoothly bright
On arms and shoulders grow.

Soon than Daedalean Icarus more renowned,
To the far-sounding Bosphorus' coasts I'll hie,
Or to Gaetulian deserts fly,
Or further north be bound,

A fluting bird. Colchis my work shall learn;
Dacia, who hides her fear of Roman strength;
Far Scy thia too ; till Spain at length,

And Rhone, be skilled in turn. 20

Let from a funeral where no corpse can be,
Dirges be absent, base laments, and wails!
Silence a mourning that avails
Never a whit for me !

THE ODES— BOOK III
I

OF ROME AND LIFE

The uninitiate crowd I ban and spurn !
Come ye, but guard your tongues ! A song that's new
I, priest of the Muses, sing for you
Fair maids and youths to learn !

Kings o'er their several flocks bear sway. O'er kings
Like sway hath Jove, famed to have overthrown
The Giants, by his nod alone
Guiding created things.

One man may plant his vines o'er wider space;
High birth another candidate commends 10

When he to polling-booth descends;
A third with better grace

May plead his life unstained ; a fourth, his weight
Of partisans. Alike for high and low
Death votes. His mighty urn will throw-
Each name or soon or late.

A Damocles, o'er whom the sword doth swing,
Threat'ning his unblest neck, finds scanty zest
At tyrant's banquet; him no rest

Birds' note or lyre's will bring. 20

But gentle sleep spurns not the humble home
Of simple clown; it dearly loves the shade
Of river-banks, and Tempe's glade
Where whispering zephyrs roam.

56 Horace

Whoso craves just enough, no storm shall fret,
Howe'er it rage, nor gale that fiercely blows
When " Haedus risen " the star-chart shows,
Or " fierce Acturus set ";

Nor hailstorms 'mid his vines; nor faith ill-kept
Of orchard's promise, when void trees proclaim 30

Of floods or starry blight the blame,
Or winters tempest-swept.

Fishes find narrower bounds, now Wealth hath filled
The ocean-depths with piles, whereon in haste
Men, master, magnate, stones have placed
A palace high to build,

Scorning mere land. But Threats and Terror find
Place there as well. If my lord sails, black Care
Quits not the glittering deck, and where

He rides, She rides behind. 40

Since Phrygian marbles no relief can buy
For one in pain, nor purples, though they shine
More bright than stars, nor costliest wine,
Nor eastern spikenard, — why

On columns proud provoking only hate
A hall upraise, garish and new and strange ?
Why take, in Sabine dell's exchange
Wealth and its weary weight?

II
OF ROMAN VIRTUE

How best the pinch of hardship to endure
Let the young Roman learn in stress of fight,
Till he can match fierce Parthians' flight,
And ply a spear as sure.

The Odes— Book III 57

Amidst alarms let his young days go by,
The sky his tent. Then when some King's at war,
Let spouse or daughter watch afar,
And from the ramparts cry:

" Unversed in war, ah! will my darling dare,
A very untamed lion to impugn, 10

Whom through a field of slaughter soon
Insatiate wrath may bear? '

Good 'tis and fine, for fatherland to die !
Death tracks him too who shirks ; nor will He fail
To smite the coward loins that quail,
The coward limbs that fly !

True Worth knows not defeat, and still preserves
His robe unsullied by base Envy's stain;
He takes not nor quits power again,

As mob-mood sways and swerves. 20

Heaven's gates he opes to men of deathless worth,
And finds a way to fame where way's denied;
Soaring he thrusts dull crowds aside,
And spurns the sodden earth.

Yet faithful Silence too may claim his fee.
But they who of dark Ceres tales would tell,
Shall not beneath my roof-tree dwell,
Or launch frail boat with me.

For oft Jove strikes good men and ill in one,
When he is scorned. Justice may halt, yet Crime, 30
Whate'er his start, hath seldom time
Her vengeance to outrun.

Horace

III
OF ROME AND TROY

The man that's just and resolute of mood
No craze of people's perverse vote can shake,
Nor frown of threat'ning monarch make
To quit a purposed good.

As soon would the unquiet lord of Hadria's surge,
Roaring South- Wester, shake him, or Jove's stroke
Of fire. If wide Creation broke,
Upon its crumbling verge

He'd stand undaunted. 'Twas such strength did waft
Pollux and roving Hercules to the skies; 10

By whom red-lipped Augustus lies,
And nectar too hath quaffed.

Earning like place, Sire Bacchus ! by like strength,
Thee did yoked tigers drag with restive neck
To Heaven. Thus too did Romulus check
Mars' steeds, and soared at length

Above Death's stream ; when Juno thus began,

By listening gods approved: " Troy's ruin came

Through Paris, that false judge, with shame

Of foreign courtesan; 20

What time Laomedon the spoken word
Forswore, and to the gods his promise broke;
Troy's doom then I and Pallas spoke,
On town, false folk, and lord.

Less brightly now her ill-famed lover shines
In the lewd Spartan's eyes. Priam's false race
No longer helped by Hector chase
The Greeks' embattled lines.

The Odes — Book III 59

The war, by our dissensions lengthened, lo !
Is ended. From this hour my bitter scorn 30

Of Troy, my hate for grandson born
Of Ilia, I'll forego

(Though she a Trojan priestess), Mars to appease.
Nay, where we peaceful sit he shall be placed,
And in heaven's courts shall nectar taste.
Nay more, while wide the seas

Are left 'twixt Ilium and Rome to rave,
So long in peace the exiles blest may reign
Where'er they list. While on the plain

Of Troy, and o'er the grave 40

Of Paris and of Priam cattle stray,
And wild beasts squat unharmed, so long let stand
Rome's Capitol renowned, — her hand
Let humbled Medes obey;

Let her before a world in terror bear
Her name to farthest coasts, beyond where pour
Westward 'twixt Spain and Afric's shore
The middle straits, — or where

Eastward Nile floods his fields. Be it her rule
Gold aye to scorn, left deep by earth o'erlaid ; 50

So better, than when mined, and made
Of impious hands the tool.

Rome shall be free by dint of arms to attain
Earth's farthest bound, — whether she hath desire
To go where rages tropic fire,
Or where brood clouds and rain.

But on this one condition thus I've willed
For warlike Rome, that in no maudlin mood
Of piety or pride she should

Old Troy seek to rebuild. 60

60 Horace

A Troy with such ill auspices restored
Like loss again shall know. For once again
I, sister-spouse of Jove, in train
Will set my conquering horde.

Nay, if a third Troy they in brass should house,
And Phoebus helped, a third time Troy would burn,
Sacked by my Greeks; third wife would mourn,
Captive, her sons and spouse."

Such talk but ill my sportive lyre beseems.
What mean'st thou, Muse ? Cease rashly to rehearse 70
The speech of gods, or with small verse
Belittle mighty themes.

IV
TO CALLIOPE

Descend from Heav'n, queenly Calliope;
And a long strain, with pipe and thrilling voice,
Or Phoebus' lyre, if such thy choice,
Or cithern, sing for me !

Do ye too hear her? Or doth fond conceit
Mock me ? Methinks I hear, methinks I stray
Through the blest groves, where whispering play
Fair streams and zephyrs sweet.

Me, on Apulian Voltur long ago,

Like bliss befel. Past my nurse Pullia's home 10

Wand'ring, with play and sleep o'ercome,
The fabled doves did throw

Fresh leaves on me. Strange 'twas to all who keep
High Acheruntia's eyry, Bantium's hills,
Or the rich fields Forentum tills,
How thus a child should sleep,

The Odes— Book 11J 61

Nor venomed snakes or bears have power to harm;
How I, with sacred bay and myrtle pressed,
Like babe inspired should calmly rest,

Safe through some god-giv'n charm. 20

Your nursling still, dear Muses, safe I climb
The Sabine steeps ! Yours, if Praeneste keen,
Or Tiburs slope, or Baiae's sheen,
Allure me for a time !

Through the dear friendship of your choirs and springs
Philippi slew me not, nor Tree accurst,
Nor Sicily's sea, which at its worst
Round Palinurus swings.

So long as you stand by me, without fear
Seaward mad Bosphorus I'll dare to face, 30

Landward, Assyria's sunparched space;
For Britain I will steer,

A cruel race, or for the tribe who drink
Mares' blood, Concanians called; bowmen I'll sec
Gelonian bred, and safe shall be
By Scythia's river-brink.

When noble Caesar sends his veterans brave
To their town quarters, 'tis to you belongs
To cheer his weariness with songs

From your Pierian cave. 40

Calm thoughts to give, kind Powers, is your delight !
We know how Jove swept with the hurtling fire
Of his fell bolts the Titans dire,
Curst mob, clean out of sight, —

Jove, who controls slow Earth, and wind-swept Sea,
Cities on earth, and Hades' gloomy den,
And Gods, and mortal Tribes of men,
And reigns with equity,

62 Horace

One and alone ! Yet ev'n He might have feared
That daring horde in brutal strength arrayed, 50

Confederates who fain had laid
A Pelion high upreared

On dark Olympus. But what could avail
Typhoeus, Mimas, Rhoetus strong in fight,
Porphyrion huge, or he whose might
Dared with wrenched trees to assail,

Enceladus, — when 'twas against the shield
Fierce-clanging of Minerva that they swept?
To aid the cause keen Vulcan stept,

Stept Juno, on the field, — 60

Apollo too, his bow still drawn to aim ;
Who laves loose tresses in Castalia clear,
And Pataran, Delian, groves holds dear,
Taking from each a name !

For ill-trained strength by its own weight's o'erborne ;
But Heaven, to powers well-ordered, favour lends,
Hating brute-force, which to ill ends
Doth all its travail turn.

Be hundred-handed Gyas witness named,
And lewd Orion, who foul slight would throw 70

On chaste Diana; her pure bow
The base attempter tamed.

Earth, on her monstrous children piled, must grieve,
Wailing her progeny in hell that drift,

Hurled by Jove's bolt. Hell-fire, though swift,
Cannot through ^Etna cleave.

On shameless Tityos' breast devouring deep,
A dreadful warder of his guilt remains,
The bird unclean. Three hundred chains

Lustful Pirithoiis keep. 80

The Odes— Book III 63

OF ROMAN SOLDIERS' HONOUR

Jove when he thundered we for King confessed ;
Augustus too a present god we'll call,
As to Rome's sway new nations fall,
And Britons, Medes, are pressed

Beneath the yoke. And shall we now be told
That men of Crassus, wedding Parthian wives,
Have dared (Changed Senate, perjured lives !)
In treason to grow old,

Fighting for their new kin, though Latins bred;
To sacred Shields, to Roman name and gown, 10

And deathless Vesta, callous grown, —
A Median king their head,

Though Jove and Rome survive ? That so 'twould end
Farseeing Regulus divined, when he
Would to no treaties base agree,
Or weak compliance lend

To acts with ruin fraught for ages yet,
If Romans ta'en had not unpitied died.
" Arms, eagles," said he, " I have spied
In Punic temples set, 20

By Romans bloodless yielded. I have gazed
At hands wrist-bound to backs that free we name ;
Seen gates agape, and fields, where flame
And sword of ours had blazed,

Now tilled anew ! Forsooth the men ye buy
Will come back better soldiers ! Ye but wed
Loss to disgrace. The tarnished thread
Can take no second dye ;

Horace

And the true valour,, once it falls away,
Is by no sham replaced. When fights a hind 30

Soon as the toils have ceased to bind,
Then he the man will play

Who basely trusted a false enemy's faith;

Then in some later war he'll crush his foe,

Who Punic chain on wrist did know,

And cowardly blenched at death.

Frantic to save his life, whate'er the cost,
He mixed up peace with war. 0 shameful hour !
Carthage stands high, that climbs to power

On Italy's honour lost ! ' 40

This said, we're told, his faithful wife's embrace,
His babes, he waved aside, as being now
No Roman ; and with frown of brow
Bent down his manful face.

Hoping in a weak senate to infuse
Share of his own resolve, he for new need
New counsel gave. Then would he speed
From weeping friends' adieux,

To exile and to glory. Yet, what pains
The Punic headsman planned for him, he guessed; 50
Still calm he thrust aside where pressed
His kinsfolk, and the trains

Of humbler friends, who stayed him. Even so
Might one, when ends some client's tedious case,
Calmly to his Venafran place
Or Greek Tarentum go.

The Odes— Book III 65

OF ROME'S DEGENERACY

Thy father's crimes shalt thou, the guiltless child,
Repay, 0 Roman, until thou restore
The fanes and shrines now toppling o'er,
And statues smoke-defiled.

Only while thou before the gods bend low,
Can'st thou be strong. Seek first and last their aid,
Whate'er the task. Ignored, they've laid
On Italy many a woe.

Twice have Monaeses', Pacorus', arms o'erborne
Our evil-starred assaults. Twice have they hung 10
With glee the spoils from Romans wrung,
Their small neck-chains to adorn.

Rome, with her civil quarrels hampered then,
Came nigh to death, assailed by double foes,—
The Egyptians, with their fleet, with bows
The Dacians, better men.

Fertile in ill, the age infected first
Wedlock and home and pride of honest birth;
Fed from this spring, o'er all the earth

Poured forth the time accurst. 20

Our grown girls love to learn Ionian ways
Of lewd suggestion in the dancer's school;
Nay each with evil tricks is full
Ev'n from her callower days.

Wedded, erelong she seeks some younger spark, — •
While her man sips his wine, — no matter who,
Forbidden joys to share, and woo

Her favours in the dark.
D5'5

66 Horace

Why, orders she'll attend to, nowise nice,
Nor her man either. If some pedlar call, 30

Or Spanish galleon's master, — all
Are welcome, at a price.

Not from such parents was the manhood nursed
That dyed the sea with Carthaginian blood,
Pyrrhus, Antiochus, withstood,
Or Hannibal, accurst.

No, but the sturdy hinds of soldier breed,
Trained with their Sabine spades the soil to turn.
And firewood bring, as mother stern

Day's darg to each decreed, 40

Ev'n though the setting sun now spread afar
Shade on the hills, and from tired steers removed
Their yokes, bringing eve's hour beloved
On his departing car.

What have the fatal years not brought of ill ?
Our father's age, than their sires' not so good,
Bred us ev'n worse than they ; a brood
We'll leave that's viler still.

VII
ASTERI&

Asterie, why weep for him who's due

To thy dear arms with Spring's first brightening airs,

Rich with Bithynian wares,
Thy Gyges, faithful fond and true ?

Doubtless at Oricum storm-stayed he's kept,
Since mad Capella's star rose, — doubtless spent

Chill nights in drear lament,
And for his absent darling wept.

The Odes— Book III 67

Meanwhile his love-sick hostess' depute says

How she, poor Chloe, sighs in sick desire, 10

Just like thyself on fire, —
Tempts him (sly wretch) a thousand ways.

Relates how Proteus' naughty wife by lies
Moved her fond husband, in his trust misplaced,

Bellerophon the chaste
To slay, because more chaste than wise.

Tells too, how Peleus was nigh done to death,
Because he chose Hippolyta to spurn ;

Each guileful tale in turn,
The pander breathes, but wastes his breath. 20

More deaf than cliff where seas Icarian smite,
He hears as though he heard not, — pure, till now.

See to thyself, lest thou
Like neighbour Enipeus more than's right.

I own that finer horseman none can see,
When on the field of Mars his steed he guides ;

And that upon the tides
Of Tiber none swims swift as he.

Still as the night falls, best close doors; nor peep
Forth to the streets at sound of plaintive flute. 30

And though he oft impute
Unkindness, still thy distance keep.

VIII
AN ANNIVERSARY

What I, a bachelor, have got for task,
This first of March, with flowers and censer's blaze
And coal on turf afire, I hear thee ask
In blank amaze, —

6S Horace

Ar.d ye: ir. all two trzrues car. tea:h. thru'rt ski
Lea— :hez. while zrat ani rrateful feast v rite

To Bacchus h.-.i beer, vcwec. when well-ni^h killed
By fall :: Tree.

That day's return . well wcrth a festal wreath.

Shall :he 7:::hri ::rk :r:r.: rut a ;ir ir.vzke, i.

V, - -;"- -rs: IT p-""-' c-r.5"" = ~;n i';^ '-.----- =

-- _ ____
, _— _ . .„ • -'I---. -? - - . ... • - r± — 7.. _

A h"-~ irei ruT?. a~i keei till breik cf iav
ine _irnts a^.Tw; yet sz.a... r. r r. use ;zer.d;

1-lave dine with p-atrlct w;rrles over Rome!

F; - .-_. T--?._ ,~ — ~-- lr-
j^ __» . ^ T _t. Ji _..!'_.. ^. ». T _'_"Z^~ —

n :-.vs :ur :li ::e ui-:n the Sisinifh shire.
,^ntazrla. ta.zr.ei by fetters l;zg delayed.
Ev'n Sc}thia slaiks her : :w. ani plits r.: ~:re

Lire less ::r ;r. :e if haply here or there

.- . : r.e's han;-trei. take thy quiet T^ST with ~e;

And frar.kly iheerfui while the hour sziiles fair,

LX
A DIALOGUE

HOTOCS. ' -\= Itr.r ^s I t: thy ihirzr.ed sir:.:

Was pleacir.r; a^i ncz.e ieartr larei t: rli-g
K:s ams about thy zeck ::" white.

1 diunshed. wealthier thaz. Persia's King/'

The Odes— Book III 69

Lydia. li While for no other thou didst sigh,

And Lydia was not after Chloe placed,
A maid of fair renown was I.

Than Roman Ilia more nobly graced."

Horace. '' Xow Thracian Chloe holds my heart.

Sweetly she sings ; the lyre she's skilled to plav.
Freely for her with life FU part. n

If Fate my love spare till a later day."

Lvdia. '' Thurian Calais. Ornvtus' son.

j j

Warms me with mutual fire naught can allay.
The risk of double death I'll ran.

If Fate my lad spare till a later day.'"

Horace. " What if the ancient love return.

And parted hearts with yoke of brass rebinds,
If I the fair-haired Chloe spurn,

And Lydia scorned the old door open finds ? ' 2z

Lydia. ': Though fairer than a star is he.

Though lighter thou than cork, more prone to ire
Than the insatiate Hadria's sea. —

With thee I'd gladly live, with thee expire."

A DOLEFUL SERENADE

Ev'n. Lyce, didst thou drink of distant Don,

Some brute thy husband, thou would'st grudge to cast

Mv bodv victim to the native blast.

J f

With these hard posts to lean upon.
Dost hear the din wherewith the grate, the trees

*— '

About this " pleasant " courtyard planted, shake;
And how bright Jove the drifted snows doth make
L'nder his skyey power to freeze ?

70 Horace

Beware ! the rope may quit the wheel at speed !

From pride,, which Venus hates, 0 get thee free ! 10

No suitor-snubbing chaste Penelope

Thy Tuscan sire in thee did breed.

Though neither lovers' gifts, nor lovers' sighs,
Nor lovers' violet pallor, nor the share
Of thy own man in that choir-girl's affair,

Melt thee, — to these last desperate cries

Give ear. Not softer thou than mountain oak,
Nor kindlier of heart than Afric snakes !
These ribs at least shall not till morning breaks

At thy chill door endure to soak ! 20

XI
TO MERCURY AND THE LYRE

Thou god, who in Amphion's soul instilled
The art through song Thebes' walls to raise from ground ;
And thou, dear Shell, that on seven strings art skilled
To sweetly sound,—

Once dumb thou wert, with no true note or clear,
But now at rich men's board and temples friend ;
Teach me a strain whereto her wilful ear
Lyde may lend.

For she like a young filly skips away

Heels up across the field, a skittish thing; 10

With ne'er a thought of love, while yet she may
She takes her fling.

Thou hast the skill tigers and trees to wile,
And of swift rivers to abate the swell ;
Nay, to thy wooing Cerberus did smile,
Grim guard of hell.

The Odes — Book III 71

Yet round his Fury-seeming head are hung

A hundred snakes for guard; foul is his breath;

And from his monstrous jaw a triple tongue

Drops gory death. 20

Grimly laughed Tityos and Ixion too;
Rested for once the Danaids' pitcher dry,
While thou the maidens from their toil did'st woo
With melody.

Make Lyde hear the story of their sin,
And of the pains they suffer, virgins still,
Whose Jar the water, ever flowing in.
Can never fill.

Make her to know the curse which falls though late
On crime, ev'n after death. Fiends sure were they ! 30
What could they worse? Fiends, who in cruel hate
Could bridegrooms slay !

One, only one, proved worthy bridal bed,
To perjured father with brave treason lying,
And for her virgin name, till time is sped,
Earned fame undying.

Thus to her youthful spouse her words did run:
" Rise, lest a sleep unending on thee fall,
Whence thou suspectest not. My father shun

And sisters all, 4°

Maidens accurst, who like she-lions seize
Each her own captive bull, his flesh to rend.
I will not stab thee, nor, more kind than these,
To bondage send.

Me let my father load with cruel chains,
That mercy I to my poor husband show;
Let him o'er sea to far Numidian plains
Force me to go !

72 Horace

Haste thou, where'er or feet or winds may guide!
While love and darkness aid, with luck begone ! 50

And the sad tale some day of thy lost bride,
Carve on her stone !

XII
NEOBULE'S COMPLAINT

0 the hapless fate of maidens who to love must not give play,
Nor with wine relieve love's heart-aches; else with terror
day by day

They must tremble at a bitter uncle's tongue !

0 that naughty robber Cupid, Neobule, how he steals
Every stitch Minerva taught thee, when the wicked god
reveals

All the splendour of thy Hebrus, fair and young,

As he shows his gleaming shoulders, while he swims in Tiber's

tides,

Or far better than Bellerophon among the horsemen rides,
And as boxer, or as runner, conquers still.

Deft is he too in the open, when the deer in terror fly, 10
With his dart to overtake them, or the wild boar to espy,
And from lair amid the thickets oust at will.

XIII
BANDUSIA'S FOUNTAIN

Bandusia's fount, more bright than crystal thou,
Well worthy gift of flowers and mellow wine, —

To-morrow at thy shrine
A kid I'll dedicate, whose brow,

The Odes — Book III 73

Just budding, is to love and battle stirred.
But vainly ! With his red blood by and by

Thy waters cool he'll dye,
This youngling of a wanton herd.

Thee the fierce Dogstar with his fiery shock

Can never touch. Thy shadow coolness leaves 10

For ploughshare-wearied beeves,
And for the straying pastured flock.

Thou too among famed fountains shalt be known,
When I thy holm-oak sing, whose branches wave

Above the rocky cave,
\Vhence leap thy babbling waters down.

XIV
TRIUMPHAL ODE TO AUGUSTUS

Commons, from Spain our Caesar homeward hies !
Like Hercules, we're told, a laurel wreath
He there hath sought, such as a hero buys
At price of death.

Forth let his spouse, to her great consort true,
Come with thank-offerings just: and by her side
Our famed chief's sister; noble matrons too,
Wearing in pride

Their votive wreaths, for daughter dear or son
Now safe returned. And you, fair youths, I pray 10
And girls late wed, words of ill omen shun,
Nor mar the day, —

A day to me so glad, that moody cares
Shall be quite banished. No tumultuous tide
Or stroke of death I'll fear, while Caesar bears
Sceptre world-wide.

*D5I5

74 Horace

Bring scents, boy, wreaths, and jar of wine that knew
The Marsian war, and keeps the name alive !
Haply from roving Spartacus some few

Unbroached survive. 20

And tell clear-voiced Neaera quick to braid
In simple coil her locks of auburn hair;
But if through her sour porter thou'rt delayed,
E'en leave him there !

Years with their whitening locks subdue the heart
Once keen for lawsuits and the reckless fray;
I had not taken thus the peaceful part
In Plancus' day.

XV
TO CHLORIS

Thou, wife of humble Ibycus,

Fix at long last a limit to thy sin,
And to thy labours infamous;

Now that thy span more near to death draws in,

Cease with the maidens to disport,

Or on their starry sheen to cast disgrace.

That which with Pholoe doth assort,

Befits not thee so well. With better face

Thy daughter young men's homes may storm,

Like frenzied Bacchant whom the timbrels craze; 10

'Tis love of Nothus that doth warm

Her heart, when like some wanton roe she plays.

Thee, wools near famed Luceria shorn

Better become, not cithern's tinkling note,

Nor rose-wreaths shining like the morn,
Nor jars drained to the lees by aged throat.

The Odes— Book III . 75

XVI ,
OF RICHES AND CONTENTMENT

Imprisoned Danae, what with brass-bound vault,
And doors of oak, and hounds that watchful swarmed,
Must have for ever been preserved unharmed
From nightly gallants' rude assault,

If Jove and Venus had not laughed to scorn
Acrisius, the hid girl's cowardly guard,
Since clear the way would be, the gate unbarred,
Once god should be as gold reborn.

Gold can a path through hosts of warders clear,
And walls of stone more swiftly can displace 10

Than ever lightning could. Thus fell the race
Of Amphiaraus, Argive seer,

By gold undone. With bribes, full many a town
The Macedonian opened, and o'erthrew
The power of jealous kings. Ships' captains, too,
Bribes oft can net, though stern their frown.

As riches grow, care follows, and a thirst

For more and more. Maecenas, knighthood's praise,

Well 'twas for me, that I have shunned to raise

My head, to be by envy curst. 20

The more a man denies himself, Heaven gives
So much the more. I gladly strip me bare,
And from the rich man's camp to his repair,
Who with life's least contented lives, —

More gloriously rich, despising pelf,
Than, were it said that in my barns I house
To the last ear what stout Apulia ploughs,
If midst it all I'm poor myself.

j6 Horace

A rill of sparkling water, woodland dells
Some acres wide, a cornfield's hopeful show, 30

These with their deeper bliss he cannot know,
Who with rich Libya's lordship swells.

Though no Calabrian bees their honeys bear,
Nor vintage wine grows old for my delight
In Formian jar, nor upon pastured height
Of Gallic hills grow fleeces rare

For me, — yet cruel Stint haunts not my doors,
Nor if I wished for more, would'st thou withhold ;
Still, better by desires wisely controlled

Shall I enhance my modest stores, 40

Than could I join all Croesus' wealthy land
To gold-fed Midas' bounds. Who much doth crave,
Much ever lacks. Happy to whom Heaven gave
Just what's enough, with sparing hand.

XVII
TO AELIUS LAMIA

Aelius, thou scion of old Lamus' race, —
JTis said at least that every Lamia names
Lamus for ancestor, and claims
Through pedigrees to trace

The lineage down : him then thou sure must boast
Thy founder, who the walls of Formiae
First ruled, and Liris' stream (they say)
That laps Marica's coast, —

A mighty monarch he ! Well, storms erelong
Down sweeping from the east shall strew the grove
With leaves, with useless wrack the cove ; 1 1

Else my rain-prophet's wrong,

The Odes — Book III 77

A raven old. Dry wood, ere tempest soaks,
Go fetch. Thou must thy birthgod cheer at morn
With wine, and pigling two months born,
Thou and thy resting folks.

XVIII
TO FAUNUS

Faunus, — fond courtier of the Nymphs who flee, —
Entering my bounds, O bless each sunny field ;
And as thou leav'st them, to my kidlings be
As friend revealed !

Since, chos'n for thee each year's end from my fold,
A kid is slain; the bowl, kind Venus' friend,
Brims for thee full with wine ; from altar old
Rich fumes ascend.

Skip all my beasts with joy upon the mead,
Whene'er thy day, December's fifth, hath place; 10
Hamlet and steer, from toil together freed,
Thy feast-day grace.

My lambs that day no prowling wolf need dread;
The woods for tribute drop their leafy treasure.
Each ditcher joys the hated earth to tread
In triple measure.

XIX
IN HONOUR OF MURAENA MADE AUGUR

How far the space from Inachus,
To Codrus, he who for his country fell, —

How long the line of Aeacus, —
Or who fought whom at Troy, — thou'rt quick to tell;

Horace

But what a cask of Chian costs,
Or who'll provide hot water, who afford

Houseroom, or at what hour the frosts
From those Pelignian hills I'll thaw, — no word !

Wine, for the Rising Moon I Ho, wine
For Midnight's Hour I Quick, boy ! A bumper toast 10

I give, — Muraena Augur! " One to nine '
Mild cups are mixed, or " one to three " at most;

The man who loves his Muses odd
Will claim his ladlings three times three,

Being bard inspired. But drunkard's mode
Of three beyond, for peace' sake must not be.

So the nude sister Graces think,
Being foes of strife. But I'm for folly ! Why

Blow not the pipes ? Why when we drink
Hangs the flute idle with the lyre laid by ? 20

The stingy hand at feasts I hate !
Fling roses ! Let sour Lycus hear the din !

And our fair neighbour, ill-matched mate
Of dotard Lycus, let her list within !

0 Telephus, of the clustered hair,
Youth bright and clear as evening star a-blooming.

Thou'rt loved by Rhode ripe and fair,-
Me, a slow flame for Glycera's consuming.

A SCULPTURED CONTEST

See'st thou not, Pyrrhus, what thy risk to beard
That Afric lioness' cubs ? Thou show'st thee proud,
But when the tussle's o'er thou'lt fly afeared,
A spoiler cowed,

The Odes— Book III 79

When through thy serried ranks her course shall be,
The bright Nearchus claiming ! Stern the maul !
Settling if in more part the prize to thee,
Or her, shall fall.

But whilst thy shafts thou'rt drawing keen and fast,
And she her fangs is whetting, death to wreak, — 10
The contest's umpire 'neath bare foot hath cast
The palm they seek.

A fresh breeze sweeps his shoulder, and his hair
Flows odorous down: a Nireus fair he seems,
Or Ganymede, the youth whom Jove did bear
From Ida's streams.

XXI
FOR CORVINUS

Good Jar, whose years like mine from Manlius date,
Born (who can tell?) to make men jest or weep,
Quarrel, love madly, or just sleep,—
Whate'er the mood or state

For which thou'rt nursing that old brand of thine,
Only on some auspicious day shouldst thou
Be drawn ! Come then, Corvinus now
Demands a mellower wine !

Never shall he, although he's soaked already
In talks Socratic, rudely say thee no : 10

Oft ev'n old Cato's worth would glow
('Tis said) with bumpers heady.

Thou hast the power to apply a merry screw
To souls else hard to draw. Then wise men's craft
And secret plans, by waggish draught
Thou dost disclose to view.

80 Horace

To sorrow-stricken mourners thou bring'st hope,
Strength dost thou give, lifting the poor man's horn;
Then, monarch's angry crowns he'll scorn,

And with armed warriors cope. 20

Venus, if kind, and Bacchus who unbars
Men's hearts, and Graces slow their clasp to break,
And lamps, shall keep thy power awake,
Till Phoebus chase the stars.

XXII
HYMN TO DIANA

Protectress pure of hills and wooded heath
Thou who, thrice called, makest young wives immune
From child-birth pangs and savest them from death, —
Goddess triune, —

Thine be this pine-tree, o'er my villa bending,
Whose stem I hope to drench, in pious trust,
Yearly with blood of boar-pig, just intending
His first side-thrust.

XXIII
TO PHIDYLfe, A COUNTRY HOUSEWIFE

If, rustic Phidyle, on New-moon's day
With hands upturned to heaven thou make thy vow;
And to the housegods, pigling thou,
Nard, and new corn, repay,—

Then no Sirocco shall thy vines make brown,
No mildew blast thy crops ; no killing blight
In apple-bearing time shall smite
Thy tender nurslings down.

The Odes— Book III 81

As for the costly beasts that browsing feed
On snowy Algidus, 'mid ilex-trees 10

And oaks, or graze on Alba, these
In votive death shall bleed

By Pontiffs' axe-stroke. Thy small gods to tempt
With lavished blood of ewes, were bootless cost, —
From aught but rosemary at most,
And myrtle gift, exempt.

And if no vow fix what thy hand must lay

Upon the altar, then parched corn and salt

As well 'fore heaven shall clear a fault,

As costlier victims may. 20

XXIV
OF ROME'S DECAY

Though than Arabia's treasured gold
And all the wealth of Ind thou wealthier be ;

Though with thy ponderous piles thou hold
The whole Tyrrhenian, ay, or Pontic sea;

Yet since the coping on thy roof
Dire Fate her adamantine bolts hath set,

Ne'er shall thy shrinking soul be proof
'Gainst terror, and Death's all-enfolding net.

Better the Scythians live, whose days
Are spent in huts, dragged each on its own wain 10

Across the steppes. Wiser the ways
Of the rude Goths, whose fields unmarked remain,

Freely for each in turn to yield
Their fruits. No tillage longer than a year

They grant. When each hath wrought his field,
For a successor next the way is clear.

82 Horace

There from step-babes, their mother dead,
A woman holds her hand, is good and kind.

No rich wife rules the man she's wed,
Or dares to some spruce lover give her mind. 20

Their parents' worth for dower they prize,
And their own virtue, that in simple faith

Must shrink from stranger's touch; their eyes
Gazing appalled at sin, whose ransom's death.

0 if there be a man whose claim
'Twill be to end our deeds of civic wrong, —

If on his statues writ the name
" Father of Cities " he desires erelong, —

Then let him dare our wills unblest
To tame, and so earn after-ages' praise; 30

For Virtue living we detest,
But mourn the goodness vanished from our gaze.

What benefit are empty wails,
If crime we prune not with a knife severe?

Where life is tainted, what avails
Law without morals ? Men no longer fear

The zone to invade of sweltering heat,
Or the drear northern waste, whose snow-clad soil

Stands fast with frost. Our merchants meet
The ocean's rage with skill and conquering toil. 40

Thus Poverty's inglorious load
Bids man unheard-of things endure and try;
While Virtue's solitary road

He deems too steep, and cowardly passes by.

Let's to Rome's Capitol hand o'er, —
The shouts of flattering mobs invite us there, —

Or in the nearest sea-depths pour
Our pearls, our gems, our gold, a useless ware !

The Odes— Book III 83

Gold, source of evil last and first,
Away with it, if we for sin repent ! 50

We must this root of greed accurst
Pluck up; and young minds on indulgence bent

We must in sterner studies guide !
The young lord now, how high soe'er his race,

Knows not with easy seat to ride ;
He fears to hunt; gambles with better grace.

At the Greek hoop he'll challenge you,
Or dice, though these no Roman laws allow.

His sire meanwhile, to rogue-craft true,
Cheats partner, ay, guest-friend, no matter how, 60

And hastes to enrich a worthless heir.
For with his growing wealth insatiate still,

Ever a gap he thinks shows bare,
Which one small profit more is like to fill.

XXV

A BACCHANALIAN RHAPSODY

Whither, O Bacchus, bear'st thou me,
Filled with thee full ? To what groves swept along,

Or caves, in rapture fresh from thee,
Shall the grots hear me meditate a song,

That glorious Caesar's fame shall place
Amid the stars, and in Jove's council-hall?

Song let me sing shall do him grace,
Fresh, such as ne'er from other lips did fall!

Ev'n as to wakeful votary,
From far height gazing, Hebrus' stream gives thrill, 10

And savage-haunted Rhodope,
And snow-clad Thrace, — like joys my bosom fill

84 Horace

Wand 'ring by banks and woodlands lone.
O Naiads' King and Bacchants', who through thee

Have strength tall ash-trees to dethrone,
And by mere wrenching sink their majesty, —

No petty song or low be mine,
Naught in't be mortal ! Sweet the attempt hath been,

God of the wine-press, brow to twine
Like thee, with chaplet of the vine-leaf green ! 20

XXVI
LOVE RENOUNCED AND RESUMED

I've lived my life, a lover with the best,
Nor without glory my love-fights I fought:
Now arms and war-worn lute I've brought,
Upon that wall to rest,

Which on her left doth sea-born Venus guard.
Here, ay ! just here, the gleaming flambeaux set,
Crowbars, and bows, which many a threat
Once hurled at gateways barred !

0 thou who art of fertile Cyprus queen
And Memphis, where no Thracian snows can reach, 10
Raise thou the whip just once, and teach
Chloe a milder mien.

XXVII
TO GALATEA WISHING GOOD VOYAGE

Let screech-bird's cry bode impious travellers ill,
While pregnant bitch or gravid vixen prowls,
Or dun she-wolf, that from Lanuvium's hill
Portentous howls.

The Odes— Book III 85

Let serpent blight their course ev'n from the start.
When like an arrow flashed in flight oblique
It scares their ponies ! But if friend depart
Good words I'll speak,

Watching the signs; and ere a bird, whose cries
Mean murky weather, for dull bogland bends, 10

A crow I'll call, that from the eastern skies
Fair omen sends.

Good luck goes, Galatea, with thee still;
O be my name upon thy heart engraven !
Upon the left no woodpecker bodes ill,
Or flitting raven !

Yet may'st thou see amid what dire unrest

Orion hastes to setting. Well I know

Hadria's wild wrath, and how, though dear's the west,

Winds thence can blow. 20

May our foes' wives and children learn the roar
Of fierce sou-wester blindly driv'n, the whirl
Of surges dark, and buffets of the shore,
Where breakers swirl !

So felt Europa, when her snowy form
She to the crafty Bull did trust, and gazed
On yawning seas, where weltering monsters swarm, —
Brave yet amazed.

Some hours ere then she strolled through meads in bloom,
Twining a votive wreath the Nymphs to please ; 30

Now in dim darkness, naught but ocean's gloom
And stars she sees.

Soon as she touched Crete's hundred-citied isle,
" Woe, Sire ! " she wailed, " for my lost maiden name,
And maiden honour, which a love most vile
Foully o'ercame !

86 Horace

Whence came I, whither go ? Death singly seems
For maiden's fault too light. Do I for sure
Waking deplore a sin, or, mocked by dreams,

Am I still pure, — 40

Dreams of deceit sent through the ivory gate?
Which was the better choice, through weary hours
To traverse tedious seas, or, as of late,
Pluck tender flowers?

0 that some hand that thrice-accursed Steer
Would to my wrath betray ! How should I strive
With steel the monster's horns, erstwhile so dear,
To rend and rive !

Shameless was I to leave my father's home;
Am shameless still, failing myself to slay. 50

0 god that hears, miy I 'mid lions roam,
A naked prey !

Ere squalid wasting mar this damask cheek,
Or savour from this dainty form hath passed,
While young and fair, to tigers' maw I seek
Straight to be cast.

Perchance from my far sire these words are wrung.
' Base girl, thus slow to die ! Thy girdle take,-
Lucky 'twas left, — and on this ash- tree hung,

Thy neck go break ! 60

Or if a cliff, and rocks all sharp for death,
Please better, cast thee where the storms sweep by.
Else must thou, cringing at a mistress' breath
The distaff ply;

And, princess born, be forced some barbarous dame,
Poor concubine, to serve.' To her thus wailing
Venus with quizzing smile, and Cupid, came,
His slack bow trailing.

The Odes— Book III 87

The goddess laughed a while, then thus commands
" 'Twere well these angry censures to forbear, 70

When that curst Bull shall give into thy hands
His horns to tear.

Of mighty Jove unknowing spouse thou art !
Cease then thy sobs ; and life in future frame
Fitting thy state. Of the round world one part
Shall bear thy name."

XXVIII
TO LYD&

On Neptune's feast how best approach
Our festal task? Quick, Lyde, from its vault

The treasured Caecuban come broach,
And on embattled wisdom make assault !

Swift doth the mid-day sun decline ;
Yet thou, as though the day would never fail,

Art slack that lingering jar of wine
With " Bibulus Consul " stamped, from bin to hale !

I, taking the first turn, will tell
Of Neptune and his green- tressed Nereid court. 10

Next thou shalt sing, to thy curved Shell,
Latona, and swift Cynthia armed for sport.

Of Venus last, who Cnidos loves
And the bright Cyclad isles, and o'er the surge

Oft with linked swans to Paphus roves.
Night too shall have her meed, in timely dirge.

Horace

XXIX
TO MAECENAS

Scion of Tuscan Kings, a wine of brand
Mellow and still untapped, with roses fair,
And fragrant nut-oil for thy hair,
Long have I kept in hand.

Cast lingering from thee, nor for ever view
Lush Tibur, Aefula's slope, the long hillside,
Where Telegon of old did bide,
He who his father slew.

Quit for a time the luxury that cloys,
And thy high towers which touch the dizzy clouds; 10
Admire not so Rome's smoke and crowds,
And all her prosperous noise.

Oft do the rich find in a change relief;
And a plain meal beneath a poor man's roof,
With no proud curtains' purpled woof,
Smooths the tired brow of grief.

'Tis summer now. Cepheus, late hid, doth blaze;
Bright Procyon rages, and the increasing glow
Of the fierce Lion's star doth show

Return of sweltering days. 20

The weary shepherd with his drooping sheep
Seeks the cool stream, and shade of clustered trees
To rough Silvanus dear. No breeze
Wakes the hushed banks from sleep.

Yet still thou'rt brooding what adjustment new
Best fits our country's case; for her thy care,
What factious Don and China dare,
Or Bactria's King, to do.

The Odes— Book III 89

Wisely doth Heaven the future's issues mask
In night of murkiest darkness, — wisely smiles, 30

When foolish fear poor men beguiles
For bidden things to ask.

Learn calm to face what's pressing. For the rest.
Life's like a river's flow, which now shall glide
Straight on to meet the Tuscan tide :
Now on its storm-tost breast

Sweeps cattle, trees uprooted, loosened stones,
Ev'n houses, all in one. A rumbling fills
Near woods and distant echoing hills,

While the rent river moans, 40

Which erst had flowed so still. Self-centred he,
And blest, who can make boast each coming night
" This day I've lived." Or dark or bright
To-morrow's dawn may be,

As Jove shall please. But never deed that's done
Can ev'n high Heaven make as 'twere thing of naught;
Or act, by Time to issue brought,
Cancel as though 'twere none.

Fortune, her cruel trade quite to her mind,
Persistent still her wanton game to play, 50

Transfers her favours day by day, —
To me, to others, kind.

Stays she, I'm pleased; but if swift wings she shake,
I drop her paltry gifts, wrapping my life
In its own worth; and Want for wife,
Undowered but honest, take.

'Tis not my way to fly to shabby prayers,
If in some southern gale the mast should creak ;
Or patched-up peace by vows to seek,

For fear some cherished wares 60

90 Horace

From Tyre or Cyprus go to enrich the tide.
A breeze ev'n then will o'er the Aegean waft
Safely my little two-oared craft,
The Twin-Star god my guide.

XXX

A CLOSING SONG TO HIS MUSE

A monument I've achieved more strong than brass,

Soaring kings' pyramids to overpass;

Which not corroding raindrip shall devour,,

Or winds that from the north sweep down in power,

Or years unnumbered as the ages flee !

I shall not wholly die. What's best of me

Shall 'scape the tomb. In later praise I'll grow

Still fresh, as long as Vestal still and slow

With Pontiff climbs Rome's Capitol. Men shall tell,

Where Aufidus' fierce torrents rave and swell, 10

Where drought-vexed Daunus filled a rustic throne,

How I, from humble stock to greatness grown,

First dared Aeolian song with Latin speech

To attune. Forth then for well-earned prize outreach

Thy hand, Melpomene, and deign to lay

Upon my locks chaplet of Delphic bay !

THE ODES— BOOK IV

TO VENUS

Venus, thy long forgone campaign
Would'st thou renew? Spare me, 0 spare, I pray !

Not now, as in kind Cinara's reign
My manly strength. Stern mother of Cupids gay,

Cease at long last a man to try,
Left by his years, which touch two score and ten,

Hardmouthed to thy soft tyranny !
Go where fond prayers invite of younger men;

Fly hence on thy bright swans upstayed,
And for young Paulus Maximus enquire; 10

There richer feast is for thee laid,
If thou dost seek a fitting heart to fire.

Handsome, highborn, he's quick to raise
His voice for trembling friends at justice' bar;

Young, charming in a hundred ways,
The standards of thy fight he'll carry far.

Then gladly, should he by thy power
Some rival rich and liberal outpace,

'Neath a brave citrus-pillared bower
By Alba's lakes thy statue he will place. 20

There incense to thy heart's desire
Thou'lt breathe, and listen for thy soul's rejoicing

To Berecyntian pipe and lyre,
Mingled with music of the flute's sweet voicing;

92 Horace

There twice a dav will maidens sweet

And youths in choir make thy dear praise resound,

And with their brightly gleaming feet
In Salian measure triply tread the ground.

Nor maid nor youth delights me now,
Nor credulous dream of heart's exchange, nor hours 30

Of challenged wine-bout, nor the brow
Girt with a wreath of freshly gathered flowers.

And yet, dear Ligurinus, why
Falls thus the infrequent teardrop o'er my cheek?

Why on my lips thus faltering die
The love-pleas, once so manful, now so meek ?

In nightly dreams I hold thee fast,
Or o'er the Campus Martius flying chase thee,

Or through the waters speeding past,
I follow on, unkind one to embrace thee ! 40

II
TO IULUS ANTONIUS. A BROTHER POET

The poet who with Pindar seeks to vie
Soars on such wax-bound wings as Daedalus framed,
Only that some green sea may by and by
From him be named.

Like torrent's clamorous rush adown the steep,
Which rains have sent past banks familiar roaring,
So Pindar's song flows onward full and deep,
Unfathomed pouring.

WTell worthy he Apollo's wreath to gain,
When down bold dithyrambs new words he flings, ic

And in a verse no alien laws restrain,
Impetuous sings,

The Odes— Book IV 93

Whether of gods, and kings with gods for sires,
Through whom by a just death the Centaurs fell, —
Fell, too, the grim Chimaera, belching fires
Her foes to quell,

Or sings of boxers, or steeds swift of flight,

O ' O *

Led home like gods bearing the palm they gain,
But not a hundred statues shall delight

Like Pindar's strain; 20

Or mourns a warrior reft from weeping spouse,
And to the skies uplifts in golden setting
The splendour of his virtues, nor allows
Chill Death's forgetting;

Mighty's the breath in each, to bear on high
The Swan of Dirce, when to Cloudland's plains
He soars. More like some tiny bee am I.
With endless pains

Sipping the scented thyme, it flits along
The Matine hills; I round moist Tibur's glen 30

Wander, a modest poet, and my song
Laborious pen.

Thyself shall sing, Bard of a mightier quill,
Great Caesar's praise, when with earned wreath on head
Sygambrians fierce he up the Sacred Hill
Hath proudly led;

Caesar, than whom no boon of nobler worth
Fate or kind gods e'er gave, or e'er shall give,
Ev'n though the Golden Age upon the earth

Once more may live. 40

Thyself shall sing of festivals and sports,
Proclaimed to show a nation's thankful glee
For brave Augustus come, — sing Justice' courts
From causes free.

94 Horace

Then if to me is giv'n a fitting word,
My voice with thine full-throated I shall raise ;
" Fair Sun," I'll sing, thankful for prince restored,
" Day worth our praise ! '

Thee, Triumph God, ev'n as thy car ascends,
Thee, Triumph God, not once nor twice we'll name; 50
All Rome will name thee ; and to gods proved friends
Incense shall flame !

Thy vow will cost thee, lulus, many kine.
One new-weaned calf, which on lush grass doth stray
Feeding his lusty youth, shall pay for mine,
On that blest day ;

On brow a mark he bears as white as snow,
Shaped like the crescent moon, rising in view
On her third eve ; his skin elsewhere doth show

A tawny hue. 60

III
TO MELPOMENE

He whom at birth thou'st smiled upon
Just once, dear Muse, shall ne'er at Isthmian game

Be decked for boxing victory won.
No steed of strength shall from the field of fame

In Greek car bear him conqueror home.
Nor shall great Rome his form have e'er beheld

Bay-wreathed to her high Capitol come
In triumph for king's haughty threat'nings quelled.

But him, the brooks that peaceful glide
Past fertile Tibur's tilth and the deep shade 10

Of leaf-clad trees, to fame shall guide,
For songs such as Aeolian poets made.

The Odes— Book IV x 95

The sons of Rome, — 'mongst cities chief and queen,—
Deign, in the poet-band whom she holds dear,

To grant me place. And now less keen
Detraction at my heels doth snarl and sneer.

Pierian Muse, whose fingers rule
The dulcet chime of music's golden shell, —

Thou who could'st ev'n dumb fishes school
To sing like swans, if thou didst think it well,— 20

'Tis by thy gift that passers wait
For my appearing, and a finger raise,

" Rome's Bard " to point at. Whether great
Or small my power to please, thine, thine the praise !

IV
IN PRAISE OF DRUSUS

Like the winged warder of the thunder's roll,
Whom o'er the birds of air Jove king decreed,
Because proved true when Ganymede,
The fair-haired boy, He stole, —

Lo, from the eyry, though untrained for flight,
Forth-driven by youth and inborn strength, he hies,
Soon as Spring's breeze and cloudless skies
His wavering swoop invite :—

Then, stronger grown, he to fresh effort wakes,
Ruthless campaign on sheepfolds next to wage; 10

Last, hunger and the warrior's rage
Hurl him on writhing snakes :

Or like a lion's cub that speeds away
From his brown mother's dugs on roe-deer straight.
Which, on lush grass intent, too late
Sees him in act to slay, —

96 Horace

So showed young Drusus 'neath the Alpine heights
To our Vindelic foes. The why and how,
That from old times these wield till now

An Amazon axe in fights, 20

I have not asked; all things man may not learn.
Enough meanwhile, that foes, who long and far
Had forced their conquering way in war.
By a youth's plans in turn

Overthrown, found to their cost what breed and brain
Can grow to, fostered by Augustus' care, —
For what great issues youths prepare,
Whom his pure home shall train.

Only from parents brave, brave sons proceed.
Horses alike and steers the merit prove, 30

That was their sires'. No timid dove,
Do warlike eagles breed.

Yet doth wise schooling inborn powers extend;
And culture, rightly ordered, to brave hearts
New vigour brings ; but manly parts,
Undrilled, fail in the end.

What, Rome, thou ow'st the Neros, testify
Metaurus stream, fall'n Hasdrubal, Rome's day
Of hope renewed, when passed away

The cloud from Latin sky, — 40

The day which first smiled with glad victory,
Since Hannibal's dread power through Italy passed
Like flame through firewood, or like blast
Scouring Sicilian sea.

From that day forth, Rome's manhood grew apace
In prosperous toils; and Roman fanes, brought low
By impious Punic scathe, could show
Their gods once more in place.

The Odes — Book IV 97

Till at the last false Hannibal hath said :
" Like deer are we, of ravening wolves the spoils; 50
Yet madly chase we foes, whose toils
'Twere triumph to evade.

The race, that from Troy's burning took its strength,
And tempest-tost bore through the Tuscan foam
Gods, babes, and aged sires, from home
To Latium's towns at length, —

Like oak on dark-leaved Algidus, which grows
Stronger, the more with keen axe-stroke 'tis shorn,
That race, through loss and death reborn,

Sword-hewn, the braver shows. 60

Not harder proved the Hydra, which increased,
In Hercules' spite, the more he mowed it down;
Not Thebes did breed, by Cadmus sown,
Nor Colchis, direr beast!

Deep sink it in the sea, 'twill rise more hale;
Grip it, and though ne'er foiled as yet thou engage,
'Twill throw thee, and fresh battles wage,
For wives to tell the tale.

Never again shall message proud be sped
By me to Carthage. Gone, ah ! gone, the fame, 70
The hope and fortune of our name,
Now Hasdrubal is dead ! '

Nothing is there on earth which Claudian hands
Shall not accomplish. For with kindly power
Jove guards them, and when dangers lower
Wisdom a way commands.

Horace

TO AUGUSTUS

Born under kindly gods, best guardian thou
Of Romulus' race, absent art thou too long !
Promise of swift return thou gave the throng
Of thy high Senate, — come then, now !

Restore, kind chief, light to this land of thine ;
For when, like Spring, thou dost thy face display
For thy folk's joy, more sweetly goes the day,
And the new morns serener shine.

Ev'n as a mother longs, when o'er the plain
Of wide Carpathian seas fierce storm's alarms 10

And envious gales from her fond waiting arms
Long past the year her boy detain,—

Calling with omens, prayers and vows, her gaze
Ever toward the curving shore she sets ;
So, pierced with loyal passion of regrets,
His land for absent Caesar prays.

For safe our oxen now stray in the fields;
Ceres and bounteous Joy our tillage bless;
Over the seas, now peaceful, sailors press,

And Honour her fair credit shields. 20

No vileness now to cleansed homes enters in;
New ways, new laws have the old blots erased.
For children like her spouse each wife is praised;
And vengeance follows close on sin.

Who Parthia would fear or Scythia cold,
Or the huge swarms that German forests breed,
While Caesar lives to save us ? Who would heed
The war waged by Iberia bold ?

The Odes— Book IV 99

Each tills his own vine-slope till sun goes down,
Wedding his vines to the once-widowed trees; 30

Then cheerly to his cups, pledging in these
Thy name divine, the feast to crown;

And with much prayer and gift of sprinkled wine,
Thy favour, with his housegods' joined, doth crave.
So grateful Greece to Hercules honours gave
And Castor, deeming them divine.

" Such festivals long years for Italy yet

Grant us, kind Prince ! ' This pray'r at sober dawn,

While day's before us, — this, when wine is drawn,

We speak, what time suns seaward set. 40

TO APOLLO AND DIANA

Thou scourge of boasters, as lewd Tityos proved,
And Niobe, who saw her children slain;
Achilles too, whom thy stern stroke removed
Ere Troy was ta'en,-

Greater than others, matched with thee but small,
Though he, of sea-nymph Thetis son, could shake
WTith his tremendous spear Troy's leaguered wall,
And bid it quake,—

There like a pine by biting axe-stroke shorn,
Or cypress brought to ground by eastern gust, 10

Stretched all abroad he laid his neck forlorn
In Trojan dust.

Not he the man in that false steed to cower
From Pallas named, or at Troy's ill-timed feast
To skulk in Priam's court, at the glad hour
When looked-for least.

ioo Horace

He would his foes in open fight have matched,

Have burned the very babes in Greek-lit fire,

0 cruel! ev'n the unborn from womb have snatched,

In vengeful ire, 20

Had not the Father, moved by words of thine
And of kind Venus, to Aeneas willed,
That walls with kindlier omens for his line
He yet should build.

Thou, who clear-voiced Thalia dost inspire,
And in the Xanthus stream thy hair dost lave,
Apollo, smooth-cheeked God, the Latin lyre
Defend and save !

''Tis Pheobus' self granteth to my desires
Breath of true poesy, and the poet's name; 30

Therefore, proud maidens, and ye sons of sires
Glorious in fame, —

Since Dian doth protect you, she who stays
With her dread bow the stags and lynxes fleet, —
Mark well the Lesbian cadence of my lays,
And finger-beat;

So shall ye fitly sing Latona's son;

Sing the curved goddess who o' nights doth shine,

Blessing the crops, and making swiftly run

The months in line. 40

Some day when wed thou'lt boast, girl, " I was one
Who sang the heaven-blessed hymn by Horace taught,
What time the Century's feast by circling sun
Once more was brought."

The Odes— Book IV 101

VII
TO TORQUATUS

Gone are the snows,, grass to the fields returns,

Their tresses to the trees.
Earth decks herself afresh; the wimpling burns

Less full flow down the leas.

Lo ! the nude Graces linked with Nymphs appear,

In the Spring dance at play !
No round of hopes for us ! So speaks the year,

And Time that steals our day.

Melts Winter in the zephyrs ; Summer treads

On heels of Spring; in turn 10

To die, when Autumn forth her fruitage sheds;
Last, Winter dull and stern.

Yet new moons swift replace the seasons spent;

But when we forth are thrust,
Where old Aeneas, Tullus, Ancus went,

Shadow are we and dust.

Who knows that Heaven to this day's gift will please

To-morrow's sun to lend ?
And all thy goods a greedy heir will seize,

Save what thyself did spend. 20

Once thou art dead, and Minos' high decree

Shall speak to seal thy doom-
Though noble, pious, eloquent thou be,

These snatch not from the tomb.

Hippolytus, though chaste, Diana's love

Saves not from Death's grim hands;

Nor, for Pirithoiis dear, can Theseus move
The grip of Lethe's bands.

O2 Horace

VIII
TO CENSORINUS

Cups would I freely give, and bronzes fine

Bestow, dear friend, on every friend of mine;

Tripods I'd give, by Greeks for manful deed

As prizes gained, — nor least would be thy meed.

That is, were I so rich as to have bought

Works by Parrhasius or Scopas wrought.—

The first in colours soft, in stone the second,

A man or god to picture, skilful reckoned.

Not such my treasure, nor doth thy degree

Or temper ask such luxuries from me. ic

Thy fancy's all for poesy; 'tis mine

To give thee that; hear me its worth define I

Neither the public praise on marble urns

Engraved, whereby to patriots dead returns

The breath of life, — not Hannibal's fierce ire

And threats hurled back in ruin, nor the fire

Of impious Carthage burnt, makes him more famed,

Who snatched an epithet from Afric tamed,

Than does his poet friend's Calabrian muse,

When Ennius lauds him. So, if pen refuse 20

To tell the tale of thy good deeds, 'tis plain

Thou too wilt fail thy due reward to gain.

How had Mars' son and Ilia's e'er endured,

If Silence grim had Romulus' deeds obscured ?

Snatched from death's waves, ev'n Aeacus, judge below,

His refuge in the blessed isles doth owe

To poet's gift, and poet's kindly breath.

Him whom the Muse deems worth her praise, no death

Can reach; she grants him heaven. At Jove's prized board

She doth strong Hercules a place accord. 30

Castor and Pollux, 'tis the Muse that marks

As Stars, who from the deep save storm-tost barks.

Through her, his brows adorned with vine-leaves green,

Bacchus in act of answering prayers is seen.

The Odes— Book IV 103

IX
TO LOLLIUS

Lest thou should'st think perchance the words may die
\Yhich I, by roaring Aufidus born, impart
For lyre to sing to, by an art
None earlier dared to try, —

Though Homer highest sits, still set we near
Pindar. Simonides. Alcaeus strong;
Still from Stesichorus a song
Of dignity we hear.

Time hath not yet effaced the merry jest
Anacreon sang. Still lives and glows the fire 10

Aeolian Sappho to her lyre

Whispered from love-sick breast.

Not Spartan Helen only, burned to gaze
On lover's braided locks, or joyed to see
His train of regal pageantry,

And charm of princely ways.

Teucer was not the first well-skilled to loose
Shaft from a Cretan bow. Troys many a time
Were sacked ; more than one fight sublime

A huge Idomeneus 20

Or Sthenelus waged worthy to be sung.
Not stern Deiphobus or Hector brave

Took wounds, chaste wife or child to save,
First since the world was young.

Oft before Agamemnon brave men warred ;
But all unwept they lie in endless night,
Lacking, to deck their deeds with light,
Song of a heaven-taught bard.

IO4 Horace

Valour unsung shows in no nobler dress
Than cowardice when dead. ?Tis mine to save 30

Thy virtues, Lollius, from the grave;
Xo sour forgetfulness

Shall I permit to gnaw thy toils away.
A mind hast thou skilled in the world's affairs,
One that through good and evil bears
Right onward, nor doth stray

From that just honesty, which can but hate
The tricks of greed, and which no love of gain,
That all-absorbing pest, doth stain.

Thou play'st the magistrate 40

Xot one year, but as oft as honour's laws
Thou dost uphold, or frown vile gifts aside,
Or through opposing armies ride,
Victor in virtue's cause.

The wealthy man thou could 'st not rightly choose
As the supremely happy; rightlier goes
The name of him, who wisely knows
The gifts of Heaven to use;

Knows too to face reverse without a sigh,
Xor death before dishonour fears to take; 50

Ready for dear companions' sake,
Or native land, to die.

X
TO LIGURIXUS

Though hard thou art still, thyself on the dear gift

of beauty pluming,

Yet when the unlooked-for change shall come to check

thy pride's presuming;

The Odes— Book IV 105

When dipt the locks that now about thy neck

in curls repose,
When thy complexion's radiance, now more bright

than any rose,
Fading hath changed thy daintiness to gloom

of years' decays, —
''' Alas ! " thou'lt cry, as on an altered self

in glass thou'lt gaze
:: Why to my youth was not the wisdom given

which now I share ?
Or with my old desires why come not back

youth's cheeks as fair ? '

FOR MAECENAS' BIRTHDAY

A cask I treasure full of Alban wine,
Nine years matured and more; my garden shows
Parsley, dear Phyllis , fit thy wreath to twine ;
And ivy grows

In plenty, to adorn thy tresses' splendour;
The house with silver shines ; an altar stands
In vervain wreathed, longing till lambkin tender
Fall bv my hands.

* *

Each helpful soul is busy; in a whirl

Scurry the lads and maids about the rooms: 10

j *

The very flames are bustling, as they curl
Their sooty fumes.

And now to tell thee why this glad unrest, —
'Tis Ides-day, girl, for which thy help is due,
The day which parts the month by Venus blest,
April, in two.

106 Horace

It is a day which justly I revere,

Not more my own birth-morning; since its date

For my Maecenas marks a fresh new-year

To celebrate. ro

I know thou'rt fond of Telephus; but he
Soars past thy reach. Another holds him bound ;
Rich, wanton, with the chains of pleasure she
Enwraps him round.

Phaethon, burnt in car high-borne, gives warning
'Gainst greedy hopes. Offers example clear
The winged Pegasus, a mortal scorning
For cavalier;

These bid thee square ambition with desert,
And owning hopes above thee wicked, shun 30

A lover set too high. Come then, sweetheart.
My final one,

Since ne'er for other maid this heart shall glow,
List to the strains, which with sweet voice rehearsed
Erelong thou'lt render. Frowns and pique will go,
By song dispersed.

XII
TO VIRGIL

Spring's comrades, airs from Thrace, bringing repose
To ocean, swell the sails now outward-bound.
The lawns are hard no more, nor streams resound
Swoln as of late with winter's snows.

Mark how she builds her nest, that bird ill-fated,
Itys bewailing, — she the eternal shame
Of Cecrops' house, who by deed none may name
On a King's lusts her vengeance sated.

The Odes— Book IV 107

On the young grass reclined, with reed-note trills
Each shepherd-swain, while he his fatlings tends; 10

Charming the god, who herded beasts befriends
And loves Arcadia's shadowed hills.

The days, dear Virgil, pleasant thirsts prepare ;
These if thou'rt fain with Bacchus-juice to allay
Drawn from the vats of Cales, then thou'lt pay,
Friend of great folks, with nard thy share.

A tinv onvx box of nard shall wile

» j

The cask, which now in stores Sulpician rests,
Rich to inspire new hopes within our breasts,

And strong, life's bitters to beguile. 20

If for such joys thou'rt eager, come with speed
Thy fee in hand. To drench thee with my wine,
Thou paying naught, is bargain I decline;
So trade the rich, who nothing need.

Of lingering and gain-seeking make an end ;
Think, while there's time, how soon Death's pyre may blaze;
And some brief folly mix with prudent ways:
At the fit hour 'tis sweet to unbend.

XIII
TO LYCE, GROWN OLD

Lyce, the gods have heard, have heard my vows!
Old art thou now, yet still would'st fain seem fine,

In the old sports would'st shine,
And, shameless still, dost still carouse.

Tipsy, in tones that quavering die away,

To wake dull Love thou singest. He's elsewhere.

On guard o'er Chia fair,
Fresh-cheeked, skilled on the lyre to play !

io8 Horace

Ruthless is Love; for past each oak-tree dead

He flies, as he flies thee, — thy skin defaced, 10

With wrinkles overlaced,
Teeth yellow, hair with snows bespread.

Not Coan gauze, though steeped in purple's glow,
Nor costly jewels e'er the years restored,
Which Time's swift pen hath scored
On records which all men may know.

Whither hath fled thy charm, w^hither thy hue
And comely gait ? What's left of that fair face,

Whereof the matchless grace
Could from my soul its senses woo, — 20

The face, since my loved Cinara's, dearest known
And daintiest? To Cinara, wroe's me !

Brief years did Fate decree,
But chose, till Lyce should have grown

Old as an ancient raven, still to keep

Her life hung on, for hot young bloods to gaze

Amused, as sinks the blaze
'Mid smouldering ashes to its sleep.

XIV
IN PRAISE OF TIBERIUS

What zeal by Senate or Assembly shown
Could thy great deeds, Augustus, with fit word
For future ages' praise record
In annals or on stone,—

O thou of princes first, where'er abide
Races of men o'er whom the sun hath passed?
Ev'n the Vindelic tribes at last,
W7ho long Rome's law defied,

The Odes— Book IV 109

The lesson learned how fierce thy warfare blazed.
For with thy troops Drusus those savage powers, 10
Genaunian, Breunian, and the towers
On awful Alps upraised,

With more than single vengeance overthrew.
The elder Nero next fierce fight engaged,
'Gainst the huge Raetians battle waged,
And with good fortune knew

To tramp them down. A noble sight was he,
With what a rain of blows brave warriors, sworn
To die as freemen, now o'erborne

He swept (as sweeps fierce sea 20

A southwest gale, while swift the Pleiads speed
Dancing athwart the scud) with warlike ire
Their squads to vex, and through the fire
To hurl his snorting steed.

As the bull-fronted Aufidus with flood
Sweeps lands where once Apulian Daunus led,
And plans a watery waste to spread,
Where kindly crops have stood, —

So Claudius planned their steel-clad power to cross,
And with swift sweep of battle onward rode, 30

While front and rear like corn he mowed,
A victor without loss:

For thine the men, the plans, the heav'n-blessed care !
As vanquished Alexandria op^d her port
To admit thee, when her empty Court
Submissive she laid bare

Just fifteen years ago, — the self-same date
Brings victory from Fortune's hands once more;
Thus to old deeds of fame new store
Accrues, to swell thy state 40

1 10 Horace

To thee Cantabrian till this hour untamed,
Mede, Indian, nomad Scythian, honour yield;
A present god great Rome to shield
And Italy, thou'rt acclaimed.

Thee Danube, Nile, which still their sources hide,
Thee Tigris swift, and monster-haunted Deep,
Which round far Britain's coasts doth sweep,
Dashing his noisy tide,-

Thee Gallia's land that dreads not death to meet,
Thee the domain of stern Iberia, hear; 50

Thee the blood-drunk Sygambrians fear,
Their arms laid at thy feet !

PRAISES OF AUGUSTUS

Pheobus, when I with wars my page would fill
And with fall'n towns, by twang of lyre did chide
My whim such petty sails to guide
O'er Tuscan seas at will.

Caesar, thy Age hath brought our fields again
Rich increase, and at our Jove's shrine rehung
The standards which thy power had wrung
From Parthians' haughty fane; —

For earth at peace, hath closed Rome's Janus-gate; —
Curbed licence which past ordered limit strays; 10

Uprooted vice, and Rome's old ways
Recalled to guide the state;

The ways whereby Rome's name and fame increased,
And her great empire's majesty grew strong,
Stretching from sunset's couch along
Right to the rising East.

The Odes— Book IV 1 1 1

While Caesar guards, no strife of civic coil,
Nor foreign stroke our country's peace shall fret,
Nor leaders' quarrel, swords to whet

Or hapless towns embroil. 20

The Julian laws those shall not break, who drink
From Danube's stream, nor Goths, nor Chinese foes,
Nor treacherous Parthians, nor those
Born by Don's river-brink.

But we, alike on feasts and working days,
The merry Bacchus' gifts before us spread,
After fit pray'rs to Heaven are said,
With wives and babes shall praise,

As did our sires, brave men whose work is done,
In songs that with the Lydian flute combine ; 30

Troy too, Anchises, and the line
Of gentle Venus' son.

THE EPODES
I

BEFORE THE BATTLE OF ACTIUM

Erelong, Maecenas, you in cruisers frail,

Mid men-of-war high towered, will sail;
Ready in danger's hour, for Caesar's sake,

Each risk of his, your own to make.
What then of me, whose years, while you remain,

Mean joy, — mean, without you, but pain?
Shall I, as you suggest, seek home-bred ease,

Which, where you are not, cannot please;
Or shall I, as a brave man should, prepare

The burdens of my friend to share? 10

I'll take my share ! And over Alpine heights,

Or where fierce Caucasus affrights,
Or to the farthest creek of western sea,

My friend I'll follow manfully.
Perhaps you ask, how I can help at all,

No soldier I, but weak and small,—
I'll help at least myself, the fears to quell

Which parted friends know all too well.
A bird dreads more lest gliding serpents slay

Her callow brood, if she's away; 20

Not that one whit more helpful could she be,

Though she cowered o'er her progeny.
My part in this or any war I'll bear,

In hopes more of your love to share.
Not that I wish more heifers to have bound

To ploughs of mine, tilling my ground ;
Or flocks of mine Calabria's heats to exchange,

Ere dog-days, for Lucania's range.
Or that some marble palace I may own,

Where Circe's Tusculan towers are shown. 30

112

The Epodes 1 1 3

Amply you have enriched your friend ere this.

I will not seek, to increase my bliss,
For gold, which like sour Chremes I may hide,

Or like a spendthrift scatter wide.

IN PRAISE OF COUNTRY LIFE

' Happy the man, who far from town's affairs,

The life of old-world mortals shares;
With his own oxen tills his forbears' fields,

Nor thinks of usury and its yields.
Nor soldier he, by the fierce bugle called,

Nor sailor, at each storm appalled ;
He shuns the forum, and the haughty gate

Of nobles stronger than the State.
His business is round poplars tall to twine

The ripe young layers of the vine; 10

Or in some quiet valley to survey

His lowing heifers as they stray.
Now with his knife the worthless shoots he lops,

Grafting instead for richer crops ;
Draws the new honey, in pure jars to keep,

Or shears the timid staggering sheep.
When Autumn, with his mellow fruitage gay,

Doth o'er the fields his head display,
What joy it is the grafted pears to try,

And grapes which with sea-purple vie; 20

Fit gift, Priapus, choosing for thy hand,

Or Silvan, thine, guard of his land !
What joy, beneath some holm-oak old and grey

Or on thick turf, one's limbs to lay;
While streams past toppling banks roll down their flood,

And the birds croon in every wood,
And fountains murmur with their gushing streams

Sounds that shall sooth to sleep and dreams.
Then when the thunderous winter comes again,

Rainstorms and snowdrifts in its train, 30

This side and that a many hounds he'll set,

i 14 Horace

Into the toils tierce boars to fret;

Or on smooth fork his fine-wrought network sling,

To clip the greedy thrush-bird's wing.
Or trap the travelled crane or timid hare,

Prizes of joy beyond compare.
Who amid sports like these forgets not quite

Love's ill desires and pestering plight?
Nay if a modest wife be there to cheer

The home, and tend the children dear, 4.0

As stout Apulia's sunburnt women do,

Or Sabines, and at evening strew
The sacred hearth with logs well-aged, to burn

Against her jaded man's return ;
Next her fed beasts in hurdle-fence restrain,

And their distended udders drain;
Last, from sweet cask the year's fresh wine-draught take,

And an unbought regalement make,—
0 then not Lucrine oysters so would please,

Or scaur, or turbot, that o'er seas 50

From eastern parts some thunderous storm may sweep

Into our waters from the deep !
Not guinea-fowl into my paunch would fare,

No nor Ionian partridge rare,
More pleasingly, than fruit myself had pulled,

From olives' richest branches culled,
Or meadow-haunting sorrel-leaves, combined

With mallows, to ill stomachs kind;
Or haply lamb, slain at the Boundary-Feast,

Or kid, from a wolf's jaws released. 60

Mid junketings like these how good to spy

The fed sheep as they homeward hie,
To see the wearied beeves with shoulders slack

Trundle the upturned ploughshare back;
And seated hinds, the mansion's humming swarm,

Crowd where the hearth-gods' smiles show warm ! '

POSTSCRIPT

Alfius the usurer, when thus he swore

Farmer to be for ever more,
At the mid-month his last transaction ending,

By next new moon is keen for lending. 70

The Epodes 1 15

III

A CURSE ON GARLIC

If ever knave his father's throttle break,

The doom for such foul crime I'll make,
Garlic to eat, than hemlock deadlier far!

Flint surely, reapers' stomachs are !
What venom's this, that in my entrails boils?

Has poisoned gore from serpent coils
Been in dead secret with my salad brewed,

Or has Canidia touched the food ?
What time that comely Argonaut Jason charmed

Medea, she with garlic armed 10

Her lover, smearing him so strong, that he

Yoked the wild bulls quite easily.
With it she soaked the gifts, his fere which slew,

Then forth on flying serpents flew.
No heat like this, star-fed, e'er broiling fell,

Where parched Apulia's ridges swell;
The poisoned cloak round Hercules' shoulders cast,

Did not the strong man fiercelier blast.
If, wag Maecenas, e'er again you play

A trick like this on me, I pray 20

Your love with lifted hand each kiss may spurn,

And to the bed's far border turn.

IV
A "NOUVEAU RICHE"

What feud's decreed 'twixt wolves and lambs by fate,

Like it 'twixt you and me the hate ;
Seared are your loins, with Spanish ropes' ends mauled ,-

Your ankles, with hard fetters galled.
Howe'er, proud of your cash, Rome's streets you range,

Your breed, mere fortune cannot change.

i 1 6 Horace

See you not, as the Sacred Way you pace,

With twice three ells of gown for grace,
How change the looks of passers at your heels,

Swayed by a wrath which none conceals ? 10

"Torn by the hangman's whip, till sickness seized

The crier, see this rascal, pleased
Four thousand roods to hold, Falernian ground;

While on the Appian Way resound
His steeds, and in front seats, a noble knight,

He sits, in Otho's law's despite?
W'hat good, a host of galleons to have led,

With their great brazen prows at head,
'Gainst pirates and absconded slaves, while now,

To this, — this cur, — a legion bow ? ' 20

V
CANIDIA THE POISONER

0 Gods, who'er in heaven control the earth

And the whole race of mortal birth,
What means this stir, what mean these looks of all,

Which, on me only, murderous fall?
By thine own children, if Lucina's care

Aided thee truly child to bear,
By this poor helpless childhood's dress, I pray,

And Jove, who will these deeds repay,-
Why like a stepmother thus on me frown,

Or like wild beast, by knife struck down? ' 10

While thus with trembling lips the boy appealed,

And stripped, a naked form revealed
So soft and young, that ev'n in Thracian's heart

Some throb of pity needs must start, —
Canidia, who in her dishevelled hair

Small serpents wore, from graves bade bear
Wild fig-trees torn, and cypress, trunk of gloom;

She calls too for a screech-owl's plume.

The Epodes 117

A screech-owl's eggs, with foul toad's blood bedewed ;

Herbs too she calls for, of the brood 20

Which poisonous Hiberia's famed to grow,

Or which lolcos' wastes can show.
Bones from a starving cur-dog reft, these last

She bids in Colchian flames to cast.
Meanwhile Sagana sprayed the house with care

In hellish waters, while her hair
Like some sea-urchin's bristles upward stood,

Or boar's that haunts Laurentum's wood.
Veia too, by no sense of sin dismayed,

Was busy piling with grim spade 30

The earth in heaps, panting at her employ.

There, in a hole deep-dug, the boy,
By sight of meats, changed oft-times daily, dazed,

Should slowly perish as he gazed ;
Just so much of his head above ground shown,

As one shows floating, chin upthrown.
So might his marrow drained and liver dried

Sure philtre for her love provide,
When once, after long stare at food forbid,

Sank on glazed eye the quivering lid. 40

Foul Folia of Ariminum, whose vile lust

Outrages Nature, she too must
Have helped, so idle Naples swore, and each

Township hard by ; she with thrill screech
Can summon down the stars, and from heaven's brink

The sailing moon can make to sink.
But now Canidia with rage o'ercome

Gnaws with black tooth her untrimmed thumb,
Then said, or left unsaid, what words of hell?

" Ye powers that answer to my spell, 50

Night, and Diana who still night dost rule,

When for our rites the time is full,
Come now, and wreak upon your foe and mine

The wrath that stirs your hearts divine !
At this dread hour, when in fear-haunted woods

Each beast in grateful slumber broods,
Grant that Suburra's prowling dogs bark loud

At that foul dotard, till the crowd

i i 8 Horace

Laugh him to scorn, though smeared with scents as fine

As e'er were wrought by hands of mine ! 60

What hath befall'n ? Why have the venoms failed,

Wherewith Medea's hate prevailed,
When, ere she fled, the princess proud she paid,

Great Creon's child, and on her laid
A drug-steeped wedding-vestment, which with flame

The newly-wedded bride o'ercame?
Why is't, when not a herb or root forbid

Hath scaped me, in rough burrows hid ?
He sleeps on beds so drugged, he must forget

What girl soe'er he's fondled yet. 70

Ah ! haply walks he thus about so free,

Helped by some rival's witchery !
Then, Varus, villain doomed to weep erelong,

With drugs beyond conceiving strong
I'll have thee back ! By no stale Marsian rune

Within my power I'll call thee soon.
Greater, far greater, draught I'll brew,

From scorn to love thy heart to woo.
And sooner shall the heav'ns sink neath the sea,

While earth outstretched o'er both shall be, 80

Than thou shalt fail with old love-fires to burn,

As flames to flame the asphalt turn ! '
At words like these the boy no longer sought

To sooth the hags to gentler thought;
But puzzling only how best to begin,

Thyestean dooms spake for their sin !
" Murder may change awhile God's Right to Wrong;

The law ' Thou shalt repay ' stands strong.
To the Furies' bar I'll call you. Their dread rage,

No expiation shall assuage. 90

Nay, from the hour when bid by you I die,

0' nights I'll dog you hauntingly;
And ghoul-like with bent claws your eyes I'll tear, —

For such the power blest spirits share, —
Or seat myself upon each quaking breast,

And by sheer terror slay your rest.
Mobs will from street to street pelt you with stones,

Or trample down, foul hags, your bones;

The Epodes 1 1 9

Rent your unburied limbs will be, where gaunt

Wolves and night-birds the Esquiline haunt. 100

Nor shall my parents fail the sight to see,
Though I, alas ! no more shall be ! '

THE BITER BIT

How dare you, cur. these harmless strangers chase ?

Less brave you show, with wolves to face.
Why not on me (you're welcome) growling turn,

And for your pains a biting earn?
Like dog Molossian, or brown Spartan breed, —

Good aids to shepherds they at need,—
Prick-eared I'll track my quarry through the snow,

Whatever beast in front may go !
That's not your way. About the woods you yell.

But ne'er object a sop to smell, 10

Beware ! Beware ! I hate mean dogs like you, —

Know how to gore too ; as he knew
Who, scorned for son-in-law, Lycambes thus

Galled; as he knew, who Bupalus
Assailed. Think you. by foul tooth rent I'll cringe,

And vengeance waiving, boy-like whinge ?

VII
THE CURSE OF ROME

Whither, curst rabble, rush ye? Why now bear
Sword that of late ye ceased to wear?

Hath not on land, nor less on Neptune's bed,
Enough of Roman blood been shed?

Shed, not that envious Carthage's proud wall
Should, burnt by Roman torches, fall;

I2O Horace

Nor that the Britons, still untamed, should throng

In chains the Sacred Way along.
But shed, the Parthians' prayers to satisfy,

That Rome by her own hand might die. 10

Ev'n among wolves and lions no such deeds

Are seen. They fight with alien breeds.
Are ye by madness or blind impulse driv'n,

Or by ill choice? Be answer giv'n !
They answer naught ! But every man goes pale,

And paralyzed with fear turns tail !
In sooth, 'tis an old curse drives Romans thus,

Bred of the deeds of Romulus,
When Remus' innocent blood gushed to the ground,

That should to ill long thence redound. 20

IX
THE VICTORY AT ACTIUM

When shall the Caecuban, for fears laid by,

Be broached on Caesar's victory,
In your high halls, as Jove would wish, by two,

Heav'n-blest Maecenas, me and you ;
While lyre and flutes with strains alternate please,

Stern Dorian, that, — wild Phrygian, these?
So drank we, when that self-named " Neptune's son '

Sailed off, his warships burnt each one,
Who'd vowed, the chains which he took, of his grace,

From rascal slaves, on Rome to place. 10

Soldiers of Rome, — erelong the tale they'll scout —

Mere chattel tools, now bear about
Arms, stakes, to please a woman ; now must they

Her wrinkled eunuchs' word obey;
While 'mid Rome's standards shall the sun behold

(Vie sight) mosquito nets unrolled !
Lo ! in their wrath, to us deserting ride

Two thousand Gauls, who Caesar's side
Acclaim; while the foe's ships sheer swift away,

And refuge find in distant bay ! 20

The Epodes i 2 i

Ho ! Triumph God, why check thy golden car,

And kine which never yoke did mar?
Ho ! Triumph God, not conqueror so great

Didst bring, after Jugurtha's fate ;
Not Africanus, though, for Carthage razed,

Fame on a tomb his valour praised.
Conquered by sea and land, a cloak of gloom

The foe hath ta'en, in scarlet's room.
Haply to hundred-citied Crete he'll fare,

Though ill the winds that blow him there; 30

Or to the Syrtes vexed by southern gale,

Or overseas haphazard sail.
Get larger cups, boy, ready to our hand,

Of Chian or of Lesbian brand !
Or better, some dry Caecuban go mix;

Our stomachs' waverings 'twill fix.
With wines' delights of some sort we must drown

The fears we've felt for Caesar's crown.

A PRAYER ILL-OMENED

Under ill omen forth the ship must fare,

Which shall ill-smelling Maevius bear !
Starboard and larboard, south wind, with your tides,

And with wild breakers, lash her sides !
With cordage, let the east wind black o'er head,

And with smashed oars, the billows spread;
The north winds, too, let fly athwart the deep,

As when downhill torn oaks they sweep.
Let not kind star on that black night appear,

When sets Orion's star-light drear; 10

Let the ship drive, on sea as stormy tost

As that which the Greek victors crossed,
When Pallas from burnt Illium turned her ire,

Ajax to wreck for sin most dire !
What toil and sweat shall for thy seamen be,

What saffron paleness, Ship, for thee,

1 22 Horace

What cries and screams of womanish despair,

And prayers to Jove, who will not care,
Though in a moist south wind the Ionian bay

Sweep bellowing thy keel away ! 20

0 if his body cast (a prize indeed !)

On the curved shore, the gulls shall feed,
I'll give a lamb and goat of lusty age,

To the Storm-gods, to thank their rage I

XI
TO PETTIUS

Pettius, no joy it brings me now to write
My paltry songs. For love hath struck a blow that slays me
quite.

Me more, 'twould seem, than most, this love doth fire,
Stirring, when some fair face I see, a passion of desire.

A third December now the woodlands strips,
Since I have ceased to burn with flame lit at Inachia's lips.

Heavens, what a craze ! With blushes I recall
How in the town my name was made the common talk of all.

The dinners too I blush for, where by groan
Drawn from heart's depths, with dumps and sulks, my lover-
fit was shown. 10

" Woe's me," I cried, " 'gainst gold no more avails
The poor man's honest store of wit! ' Such to your ear my
wails,

Whene'er in heat of wine the god, who knows
No bashful scruples, led your friend his secrets to disclose.

" Once let rage set me from love-fetters free,
Then to the winds those balms I'll toss, which bring no ease
to me,

Or to my aching heart; shyness no more
Shall hamper me ; and rivals base, I will thenceforth ignore.'

After I thus with look severe had sworn,
You bade me take the homeward course ; but still with heart
forlorn 20

And faltering step, I made my doleful way
To her curst door, where, with my loins all aches, I abject lay,

The Epodes 123

But now Lyciscus' beauty rules the roast,
Who shows a skin more soft by far, than woman else could

boast.

To loose me from this tie no friends may hope,
How free soe'er the advice they give ; not ev'n abuse can cope

With such a charm. Only another love,
For some young thing with tresses long, can e'er my thoughts
remove.

XIII
WINTER

Rude tempests shadow all the sky, and Winter's stormy floods
And snow-blasts cloud the heav'ns; while loud both sea

and woods
Re-echo, swept by winds from Thrace. So let us snatch, my

friends,

Chance ere our day is done; and while knee nimbly bends
And times are fit, wipe age's frowns from every forehead

clear!

Out with my birth-wine pressed in old Torquatus' year!
No talk be ours on other themes. The risks most near in

sight

Heaven haply may remove, and change the dark to light.
Now scent we with Persian nard our hair: and with Cyllenian

string

Scatter the carking cares, which round our bosoms cling
So to his ward Achilles, now well-grown, the Centaur said :

" Dear lad, of Thetis born, and yet a mortal made, —
Unconquered youth, Troy's land yet waits for thee, through

which doth pass

Scamander's chilly stream, and Simois smooth as glass.
Return from thence the Fates for thee from their sure web

have torn;
Ne'er by thy sea-green mother shalt thou be homeward

borne.
Therefore do thou with wine, while there, and song each

grief allay;

For sweet the charm of these, to smooth Care's frowns
away."

124 Horace

XIV
TO MAECENAS

Why 'tis that languorous sloth can thus so strongly bind

My inmost heart and mind,

As though some Lethe draught, I down parched throat had
cast,—

You ask me, till at last
You're like, my candid sir, your weary friend to kill.

Know then the Love-god's will
Checks me, whene'er I would to the last roll complete

These Epodes, sheet by sheet.
Anacreon's poet-heart for his Bathyllus so,

They say, did fondly glow; 10

And oft on hollow Shell he sang his passion's pains,

In unaffected strains.
You're hit yourself! But since not fairer shone

Helen vexed Troy upon,
Than she shines, thank your star! Phryne, a f reed-girl jilt,

Torments me to the hilt.

XV
TO NEAERA

'Twas night, and in clear sky, 'mid lesser lights shone fair

The moon, when you did swear-
In the like words to mine, but meaning even then

To break Heaven's pledge again,
Although my neck more close with clinging arms you clasped,

Than oak by ivy's grasped, —
That long as wolf 'gainst flock, 'gainst seamen Orion's star,

Should wage a wintry war,—
Long as his undipped locks to breeze Apollo threw,

So long you would be true. 10

The Epodes 125

Neaera, you'll yet grieve, some manly strength to find

In Horace, not inclined
To let you on one preferred long nights scot-free bestow.

Wrathful elsewhere he'll go,

Fit match to make; once from your charms estranged, he'll
bate

Never again his hate.
And you, whoe'er you be, who proudly pace the street,

Happy in my defeat,
Be yours, rich herds and fields, — nay, let Pactolus' strand

Gild with its gold your land,— 20

Know you the hidden lore, twice-born Pythagoras knew, —

Be Nireus less fair than you, —
Yet shall you mourning see her love elsewhere incline;

The laugh will then be mine !

XVI
IRON AND GOLDEN AGE

Two generations now, the mother-land we've rent;

And Rome by her own powers is spent.
She whom her Marsian neighbours never could lay low,

Proud Porsena's Etrurians throw,
Or Capua's rival strength, dare-devil Spartacus,

Or Allobrogians treacherous,
Or Germany fierce, with all the blue-eyed men she reared,

Or Hannibal, by mothers feared, —
That land we'll slay, of blood accurst an impious race;

Wild beasts once more will hold the place. 10

Some barbarous foe will tread her ashes down; her street,

Rider with sounding hoof shall beat.
Quirinus' bones, which long from wind and sun we hide,

Curst sight! some wretch will scatter wide.
Haply ye all may ask, or those of better mind,

How for our ills some cure to find.
No plan more wise than this. Phocaea's folk of old,

After oath ta'en by all, made bold

1 26 Horace

Their lands and fanes to leave, and their ancestral home;

There boars and hungry wolves should roam. 20

So let us go, where feet o'er land, where wind o'er tide

Southern or brisk Southwestern, guide !
Is it agreed? Has one aught better? Why delay?

The signs are good, let's ship to-day !
But swear we first: " When stones shall the sea-bottom spurn

And float, — may we, uncursed, return !
Be it no shame once more homeward our sails to set,

When Po the Matine hills shall wet;
When Appenine his peaks deep in the sea shall fling, —

When love into new bonds shall bring 30

Beasts of strange kinds; and deer be with the tiger bred,

Or kite with the wood-pigeon wed ;
W7hen trustful herds no more at tawny lion quake,

And goats, grown sleek, to ocean take."
Thus sworn, with what oath else home-coming dreams may
bar,

Let all, or those who better are
Than the dull crowd, set forth. Cowards and milksops best

In their ill-omened beds may rest.
But you, who manhood have, be done with womanish wail,

And past Etruria swiftly sail. 40

The circumambient Ocean waits us ! On, where smiles

A land of peace, and blessed isles !
Where Earth gives her increase,without the ploughman's care ;

And vines, unpruned, forever bear.
Where on unfailing stem grow olives endlessly,

And dark figs deck the ungrafted tree.
Where from oak-trunks drips honey, and from soaring hills

Leap lightly down the tinkling rills.
Freely the goats come to the pails ; for friendship come

The cows, with their full udders, home. 50

No bear at evening growls about the fold, nor swarms

The teeming earth with reptile forms.
More, of good luck we'll see; how from the east no wind

Drowns all the tilth with rains unkind ;
Nor yet are the lush seeds burnt on the sun-parched fields ;

From both extremes Heaven's monarch shields.
Thither no pine-built bark e'er fetched with Argo crew;

The Epodes 127

Those coasts, ne'er Colchian wanton knew.
Thither no Tyrian men ever their yards have bent;

Ne'er came Ulysses' band forspent. 60

No foul plague taints their flocks; no star's impetuous sway

Wastes with its heat their herds away.
Jove for good folks those shores reserved., when for our crime

To bronze he changed Earth's golden time ;
With bronze, then iron, stamped the age ; yet in these isles

Refuge, methinks, for good men smiles.

XVII
HORACE AND CANIDIA

Horace. " Now at the last I yield, and suppliant humbly

cower !
You know too much! Pray you, by Proserpine's dread

power,

And by Diana's name and will inviolate, —
By all the books whose spells have strength, through gift of

fate,

The very stars of heaven to unfix and call at will,—
O spare, Canidia, spare, to speak the words that kill;
And backward turn, O turn, your deadly flying wheel !
Achilles ev'n was moved, when Telephus did kneel;
Though 'gainst the hero's might, he insolent had sent
His Mysian hordes, and showers of missiles fierce had bent.
Troy's matrons were allowed fierce Hector dead to mourn n
With funeral oils, whom else dogs and foul birds had torn,
When Priam quitting Troy fell at Achilles' feet,
Though he alas ! with scorn such suitors wont to greet.
Lo ! at the last behold, Ulysses' toilworn crew
Cast off the hairy hides, which o'er their bodies grew,
When ev'n a Circe pitied. Mind returned and speech,
And the accustomed grace came to the face of each.
Enough I've paid and more, your bill of costs to clear,
Whom Jacks ashore can hire, or hawkers, for their dear. 20
Gone is my bloom of youth; no more my skin is graced
With blush of health; my bones in sallow skin are cased;

Horace

And by your magic fumes my hair is turned to grey. }

Never relief is mine from pain by night or day;

Dark dogs the light, and light the dark; nor ever may)

My lungs with air's refreshment ease my panting side.

Therefore I needs must own truths I of late denied.

'Tis true indeed, that spells of Sabine hags have strength,

Souls to rebuke and tame; that Marsian charms at length

Can cleave men's skulls. What would you more? O Earth

and Sea, 30

With worse fires burn I, than Herculean fires could be,
Which Nessus' black blood kindled ! Fiercer far they blaze
Than the Sicilian flame which round hot Etna plays.
Till, dried to very dust, by insolent winds I'm sped,
Still like some forge you glow, with Colchian poisons fed.
What final forfeit yet, what dread amercement still,
Awaits me? Speak! I'll pay; and bowing to your will,
Faithfully meet the cost; though you should ev'n demand
A hundred steers; or though with lying lyre I'm banned
To speak you fair, as thus : ' 0 modest maid, pure as you are,
You too shall walk heaven's floor, yourself a golden star! '
For slandered Helen's sake, Castor with anger raged, 42
And mighty Castor's brother: yet was their wrath assuaged
By prayer; and to the bard they gave his forfeit sight.
You too can save. This madness end ! And to your might
Yielding, I'll swear your father was not mean, nor you
A wench besmirched and foul. Ne'er was't your wont, to

strew

Upon the humble graves of poor folks you exhumed,
Ashes stol'n from a pyre, nine days before consumed.
Your heart, I swear, is hospitably kind ; and pure 50

Your hands. Fruit of your womb was Pactumeius, sure."

• ••••••

Canidia. " Close-bolted are my ears; what good such prayers

to outpour?

Less deaf to sailors' cries are rocks on a lee shore,
When on them a wintry sea with waves high-towering smites«
You laugh and go scot-free ? You, who Cotytto's rites
Blabbed, and the lecherous joys of our Free Love defamed ?
In poisonings Esquiline past-master, yet you shamed
My honour all through Rome, nor e'er atonement made !

The Epodes i 29

What good then had they served, the many fees I paid 60
Foul Sabine crones to enrich, or drugs of swifter power
To have learned to mingle ? But the final hour
You pray for, lingers. Days must you still drag on of pain,
So as for tortures new to serve, once and again.
Peace 'tis that Tantalus asks, unfaithful Pelops' sire,
Still, by the meal's decoy, torn with unslaked desire.
Peace 'tis Prometheus craves, to the foul vulture bound ;
Peace Sisyphus, by fate doomed to uplift from ground,
And uphill thrust the stone. But peace, Jove's laws deny.
Sometimes your wish will be, to hurl you from turrets high ; 70
Sometimes, with sword of Noric steel, your breast to cleave ;
Vainly, with bitter sorrow sick, a rope you'll weave,
Your own throat to impound. Then shall I joyful ride,l
In glorious triumph borne, your hated back astride
And the whole earth shall bow, to my uplifted pride !
Dreamt you, that I, — who images of wax can make
To live, as for your curiousness you know; and take
The moon from out the sky, by my enchantments led ;
Or call ev'n from their pyre the ashes of the dead ;
And potions, fit to calm or heat men's lusts, can brew, — 80
Would e'er consent to weep failure of skill on you ? '

THE SAECULAR HYMN

(CARMEN SAECULARE)

Phoebus, and wood-queen Dian, stars divine,
Worshipped and to be worshipped, gracious be
At this high season, when runes Sibylline
Have given decree,

That chosen bands of maids and youths unstained
A hymn shall chant in your twin godhead's praise,
From whom the seven famed Hills of Rome have gained
Favour always.

Kind Sun, — who to thy shining car both bind
The Day, to show and hide, — born ever new, 10

Ever the same, may'st thou naught greater find
Than Rome, to view !

Thou Cherisher, who dost in childbirth ease
Thy votaries' pangs, help mothers at their hour;
Revealer, Leavener, by what name thou please,
Be near with power !

Be pleased too, goddess, babes through youth to rear !
So shalt thou bless the Senate's high decree
And marriage laws, that wives each coming year

May fruitful be ! 20

So, after lapse of years ten times eleven,
May this fixed cycle bring once more the songs
And sacred games, thrice daily, nightly, given
To reverent throngs.

And you, ye Fates, true in the dooms ye cast
Once uttered (And Rome's Mark, that aye hath stood,
Preserve them still !), add to a glorious past
Future as good !

130

The Saecular Hymn 131

Fruitful in crops and cattle, let the plains,
With crown of corn-ears,, Ceres' head adorn. 30

May breezes, Jove-bestowed, and healthful rains
Feed broods new-born.

Put by thy bow, Apollo, and for boon
Lend favouring ear to thy young choir who plead !
Thou Crescent-bearing Star-queen, shining Moon,
Thy maidens heed !

If truly, to Rome's building, aid ye lent,-

If 'twas through you that Trojan wanderers found

Etruria's shore, on heaven-blessed journey sent,

New homes, new ground 40

To seek, — for whom, unscathed by Trojan fires,
Pious Aeneas, Troy surviving, cleft
An open way, and gave to their desires
More than they'd left, —

* X

Then, gods, to reverent youth grant purity,
Grant, gods, to quiet age a peaceful end;
And to the Roman race wealth, family,
And honour send !

What Venus' and Anchises' last great son
Prays for with white steers slain, grant to his pray'r. 50
First still in war, may he when war is done
The conquered spare !

Ev'n now on sea and land supreme, Rome's power
And Alba's axe of state the Parthians fear;
Scythians of late so proud, and Indians, cower,
Rome's word to hear !

Now Truth returns, Faith, old-world Shame, and Peace ;
Virtue, so long neglected, homeward fares;
And in full horn, Plenty her due increase

Abundant bears. 60

132 Horace

Phoebus the seer, he of the shining bow,
Whom his nine Muses ever dearly love, —
Who from sick frames by healing art doth know
Pain to remove, —

Since kind his eyes upon the altars gaze
Which stand on Palatine, be sure he'll give
Through this next cycle ever better days
For Rome to live.

Diana too accepts the Fifteen's pray'r,
She who haunts Algidus and Aventine, 70

And to the children's vows makes it her care
Kind ears to incline.

That Jove approves and all the heavenly throng,
Good hope, and sure I with me homeward bring,
I and my choir, to the twin-gods their song
Well-trained to sing.

I THE ART OF POETRY

If in a picture (piso) you should see

A handsome woman with a fish's tail,

Or a man's head upon a horse's neck,

Or limbs of beasts of the most diffrent kinds,

Cover'd with feathers of all sorts of birds,

Would you not laugh, and think the painter mad ?

Trust me, that book is as ridiculous,

Whose incoherent style (like sick men's dreams)

Varies all shapes, and mixes all extremes.

Painters and poets have been still allow'd 10

Their pencils, and their fancies unconfin'd.

This privilege we freely give and take ;

But nature, and the common laws of sense

Forbid to reconcile antipathies,

Or make a snake engender with a dove,

And hungry tigers court the tender lambs.

Some that at first have promis'd mighty things,
Applaud themselves, when a few florid lines
Shine through th' insipid dullness of the rest;
Here they describe a temple, or a wood, 20

Or streams that through delightful meadows run,
And there the rainbow, or the rapid Rhine,
But they misplace them all, and crowd them in,
And are as much to seek in other things,
As he that only can design a tree,
Would be to draw a shipwreck or a storm.
When you begin with so much pomp and show;
Why is the end so little and so low ?
Be what you will, so you be still the same.

Most poets fall into the grossest faults, 30

Deluded by a seeming excellence:
By striving to be short, they grow obscure ;

133

134 Horace

And when they would write smoothly, they want strength,

Their spirits sink ; while others that affect

A lofty style, swell to a tympany,

Some tim'rous wretches start at ev'ry blast,

And fearing tempests, dare not leave the shore;

Others, in love with wild variety,

Draw boars in waves, and dolphins in a wood ;

Thus fear of erring, join'd with want of skill, 40

Is a most certain way of erring still.

The meanest workman in th' Aemilian square,
May grave the nails, or imitate the hair,
But cannot finish what he hath begun ;
What is there more ridiculous than he ?
For one or two good features in a face,
Where all the rest are scandalously ill,
Make it but more remarkably deform'd,

Let poets match their subject to their strength,
And often try what weight they can support, 50

And what their shoulders are too weak to bear,
After a serious and judicious choice,
Method and eloquence will never fail.

As well the force as ornament of verse,
Consists in choosing a fit time for things,
And knowing when a muse should be indulg'd
In her full flight, and when she should be curb'd.

Words must be chosen, and be plac'd with skill:
You gain your point, if your industrious art
Can make unusual words easy and plain ; 60

But if you write of things abstruse or new,
Some of your own inventing may be us'd,
So it be seldom and discreetly done:
But he that hopes to have new words allow'd,
Must so derive them from the Graecian spring,
As they may seem to flow without constraint.
Can an impartial reader discommend
In Varius, or in Virgil, what he likes

The Art of Poetry 135

In Plautus or Caecilius? Why should I

Be envy'd for the little I invent, 70

When Ennius and Cato's copious style

Have so enrich'd, and so adorn'd our tongue?

Men ever had, and ever will have, leave

To coin new words well suited to the age.

Words are like leaves, some wither ev'ry year,

And ev'ry year a younger race succeeds,

Death is a tribute all things owe to fate ;

The Lucrine mole (Caesar's stupendious work)

Protects our navies from the raging north ;

And (since Cethegus drain'd the Pontin Lake) 80

We plough and reap where former ages row'd.

See how the Tiber (whose licentious waves

So often overflow'd the neighb'ring fields,)

Now runs a smooth and inoffensive course,

Confin'd by our great emperor's command :

Yet this, and they, and all, will be forgot;

Why then should words challenge Eternity,

When greatest men, and greatest actions die ?

Use may revive the obsoletest words,

And banish those that now are most in vogue ; 90

Use is the judge, the law, and rule of speech.

Homer first taught the world in epic verse
To write of great commanders, and of kings.

Elegies were at first design'd for grief,
Though now we use them to express our joy:
But to whose muse we owe that sort of verse,
Is undecided by the men of skill.

Rage with iambics arm'd Archilochus,

Numbers for dialogue and action fit,

And favourites of the dramatic muse. 100

Fierce, lofty, rapid, whose commanding sound

Awes the tumultuous noises of the pit,

And whose peculiar province is the stage.

Gods, heroes, conquerors, Olympic crowns,
Love's pleasing cares, and the free joys of wine,
Are proper subjects for the lyric song.

136 Horace

Why is he honour'd with a poet s name,
Who neither knows, nor would observe a rule;
And chooses to be ignorant and proud,
Rather than own his ignorance, and learn? no

A comic subject loves an humble verse,
Thyestes scorns a low and comic style.
Let ev'rything have its due place and time.
Yet comedy sometimes may raise her voice,
And Chermes be allow'd to foam and rail:
Tragedians too, lay by their state to grieve;
Peleus and Telephus exil'd and poor,
Forget their swelling and gigantic words.
He that would have spectators share his grief,
Must write not only well, but movingly, 120

And raise men's passions to what height he will.
We weep and laugh, as we see others do :
He only makes me sad who shows the way,
And first is sad himself; then, Telephus,
I feel the weight of your calamities,
And fancy all your miseries my own.
But if you act them ill, I sleep or laugh :
Your looks must alter, as your subject does,
From kind to fierce, from wanton to severe :
For Nature forms, and softens us within, 130

And writes our fortune's changes in our face.
Pleasure enchants, impetuous rage transports,
And grief dejects, and wrings the tortur'd soul,
And these are all interpreted by speech;
But he whose words and fortunes disagree,
Absurd, unpity'd, grows a public jest.
Observe the characters of those that speak,
Whether an honest servant, or a cheat,
Or one whose blood boils in his youthful veins,
Or a grave matron, or a busy nurse, 140

Extorting merchants, careful husbandmen,
Argives, or Thebans, Asians, or Greeks.

Follow report, or feign coherent things ;
Describe Achilles, as Achilles was,

The Art of Poetry 137

Impatient, rash, inexorable, proud,
Scorning all judges, and all law but arms;
Medea must be all revenge and blood,
Ino all tears, Ixion all deceit,
lo must wander, and Orestes mourn.

If your bold muse dare tread unbeaten paths, 150

And bring new characters upon the stage,
Be sure you keep them up to their first height.
New subjects are not easily explain'd,
And you had better choose a well-known theme,
Than trust to an invention of your own;
For what originally others write,
May be so well disguised, and so improv'd,
That with some justice it may pass for yours;
But then you must not copy trivial things,
Nor word for word too faithfully translate, 160

Nor (as some servile imitators do)
Prescribe at first such strict uneasy rules,
As they must ever slavishly observe,
Or all the laws of decency renounce.

Begin not as th' old poetaster did,
(Troy 's famous war, and Priam s fate I sing)
In what will all this ostentation end ?
The lab'ring mountain scarce brings forth a mouse :
How far is this from the Meonian style ?
Muse, speak the man, who since the siege of Troy, 170

So many towns, such change of manners saw.
One with a flash begins, and ends in smoke,
The other out of smoke brings glorious light,
And (without raising expectation high)
Surprises us with daring miracles,
The bloody Lestrygons' inhuman feasts,
With all the monsters of the land and sea;
How Scylla bark'd, and Polyphemus roar'd:
He doth not trouble us with Leda's eggs,
When he begins to write the Trojan war; 180

Nor writing the return of Diomecl,
Go back as far as Meleager's death:
*F5X5

138 Horace

Nothing is idle, each judicious line
Insensibly acquaints us with the plot;
He chooses only what he can improve,
And truth and fiction are so aptly mix'd
That all seems uniform, and of a piece.

Now hear what ev'ry auditor expects;

If you intend that he should stay to hear

The epilogue, and see the curtain fall, 190

Mind how our tempers alter with our years,

And by those rules form all your characters.

One that hath newly learn'd to speak and go,

Loves childish plays, is soon provok'd and pleased,

And changes ev'ry hour his wav'ring mind.

A youth that first casts off his tutor's yoke,

Loves horses, hounds, and sports and exercise,

Prone to all vice, impatient of reproof,

Proud, careless, fond, inconstant, and profuse.

Gain and ambition rule our riper years, 200

And make us slaves to interest and pow'r.

Old men are only walking hospitals,

Where all defects, and all diseases, crowd

With restless pain, and more tormenting fear,

Lazy, morose, full of delays and hopes,

Oppress'd with riches, which they dare not use;

Ill-natur'd censors of the present age,

And fond of all the follies of the past.

Thus all the treasure of our flowing years,

Our ebb of life for ever takes away. 210

Boys must not have th' ambitious care of men,

Nor men the weak anxieties of age.

Some things are acted, others only told;
But what we hear moves less than what we see ;
Spectators only have their eyes to trust,
But auditors must trust their ears and you;
Yet there are things improper for a scene,
Which men of judgment only will relate.
Medea must not draw her murd'ring knife,
And spill her children's blood upon the stage, 220

The Art of Poetry 139

Nor Atreus there his horrid feast prepare.
Cadmus and Progne's metamorphosis,
(She to a swallow turn'd, he to a snake)
And whatsoever contradicts my sense,
I hate to see, and never can believe.

Five acts are the just measure of a play.
Never presume to make a god appear,
But for a business worthy of a god ;
And in one scene no more than three should speak.

A chorus should supply what action wants, 230

And hath a generous and manly part;
Bridles wild rage, loves rigid honesty,
And strict observance of impartial laws,
Sobriety, security, and peace,
And begs the gods to turn blind fortune's wheel,
To raise the wretched, and pull down the proud.
But nothing must be sung between the acts
But what some way conduces to the plot.

First the shrill sound of a small rural pipe
(Not loud like trumpets, nor adorn'd as now) 240

Was entertainment for the infant stage,
And pleas'd the thin and bashful audience
Of our well-meaning, frugal ancestors.
But when our walls and limits were enlarg'd,
And men (grown wanton by prosperity)
Study'd new arts of luxury and ease,
The verse, the music, and the scenes improv'd;
For how should ignorance be judge of wit,
Or men of sense applaud the jests of fools?
Then came rich clothes and graceful action in, 250

Then instruments were taught more moving notes,
And eloquence with all her pomp and charms
Foretold us useful and sententious truths,
As those delivered by the Delphic god

The first tragedians found that serious style
Too grave for their uncultivated age,

140 Horace

And so brought wild and naked satyrs in,

Whose motion,, words, and shape were all a farce,

(As oft as decency would give them leave)

Because the mad ungovernable rout, 260

Full of confusion, and the fumes of wine,

Lov'd such variety and antic tricks.

But then they did not wrong themselves so much

To make a god, a hero, or a king,

(Stripped of his golden crown and purple robe)

Descend to a mechanic dialect,

Nor (to avoid such meanness) soaring high

With empty sound, and airy notions fly;

For, tragedy should blush as much to stoop

To the low mimic follies of a farce, 270

As a grave matron would, to dance with girls:

You must not think that a satiric style

Allows of scandalous and brutish words,

Or the confounding of your characters.

Begin with truth, then give invention scope,

And if your stvle be natural and smooth,

j J *

All men will try, and hope to write as well ;
And (not without much pains) be undeceiv'd.
So much good method and connection may
Improve the common and the plainest things. 280

A satyr that comes staring from the woods
Must not at first speak like an orator;
But, tho' his language should not be refin'd,
It must not be obscene and impudent;
The better sort abhors scurrility,
And often censures what the rabble likes.

. • •

Unpolish'd verses pass with many men,
And Rome is too indulgent in that point;
But then, to write at a loose rambling rate,
In hope the world will wink at all our faults, 290

Is such a rash, ill-grounded confidence,
As men may pardon, but will never praise.
Consider well the Greek originals,
Read them by day, and think of them by night.
But Plautus was admir'd in former time

The Art of Poetry 141

With too much patience (not to call it worse),
His harsh, unequal verse, was music then,
And rudeness had the privilege of wit.

When Thespis first expos'd the tragic muse,
Rude were the actors, and a cart the scene, 300

Where ghastly faces stain'd with lees of wine
Frighted the children, and amus'd the crowd;
This ^Eschylus (with indignation) saw,
And built a stage, found out a decent dress,
Brought vizards in (a civiller disguise)
And taught men how to speak, and how to act.
Next comedy appear'd with great applause,
Till her licentious and abusive tongue
Waken'd the magistrate's coercive pow'r,
And forc'd it to suppress her insolence. 310

Our writers have attempted ev'ry way,
And they deserve our praise, whose daring muse
Disdain'd to be beholden to the Greeks,
And found fit subjects for her verse at home.
Nor should we be less famous for our wit,
Than for the force of our victorious arms ;
But that the time and care, that are requir'd
To overlook, and file, and polish well,
Fright poets from that necessary toil.

Democritus was so in love with wit, 320

And some men's natural impulse to write,
That he despis'd the help of art and rules,
And thought none poets till their brains were crack'd;
And this hath so intoxicated some,
That (to appear incorrigibly mad)
They cleanliness and company renounce
For lunacy beyond the cure of art,
With a long beard, and ten long dirty nails,
Pass current for Apollo's livery.

0 my unlucky stars ! if in the spring 330

Some physic had not cur'd me of the spleen,
None would have wrote with more success than I;

14.2 Horace

Bat I am satisfied to keep my sense,

And only serve to whet that wit i/i you,

To which I willingly resign my claim.

Yet without writing I may teach to write,

Tell what the duty of a poet is;

Wherein his wealth and ornaments consist,

And how he may be form'd, and how improv'd,

What fit, what not, what excellent or ill.

Sound judgment is the ground of writing well: 340

And when philosophy directs your choice
To proper subjects rightly understood,
Words from your pen will naturally flow;
He only gives the proper characters,
Who knows the duty of all ranks of men,
And what we owe to country, parents, friends,
How judges, and how senators should act,
And what becomes a general to do;
Those are the likest copies, which are drawn
By the original of human life. 350

Sometimes in rough and undigested plays
We meet with such a lucky character,
As being humourd right, and well pursu'd,
Succeeds much better than the shallow verse
And chiming trifles of more studious pens.

Greece had a genius, Greece had eloquence,
For her ambition and her end was fame.
Our Roman youth is bred another way,
And taught no arts but those of usury;
And the glad father glories in his child, 360

When he can subdivide a fraction :
Can souls, who by their parents from their birth
Have been devoted thus to rust and gain,
Be capable of high and gen'rous thoughts?
Can verses writ by such an author live ?
But you (brave youth) wise Numa's worthy heir,
Remember of what weight your judgment is,
And never venture to commend a book,
That has not pass'd all judges and all tests.

The Art of Poetry 143

A poet should instruct, or please, or both; 370

Let all your precepts be succinct and clear,
That ready wits may comprehend them soon,
And faithful memories retain them long;
For superfluities are soon forgot.
Never be so conceited of your parts,
To think you may persuade us what you please,
Or venture to bring in a child alive,
That cannibals have murder'd and devour'd.
Old age explodes all but morality;

Austerity offends aspiring youths ; 380

But he that joins instructions with delight,
Profit with pleasure, carries all the votes :
These are the volumes that enrich the shops,
These pass with admiration through the world,
And bring their author an eternal fame.

Be not too rigidly censorious,
A string may jar in the best master's hand,
And the most skilful archer miss his aim ;
But in a poem elegantly writ,

I will not quarrel with a slight mistake, 390

Such as our nature's frailty may excuse;
But he that hath been often told his fault,
And still persists, is as impertinent,
As a musician that will always play,
And yet is always out at the same note;
When such a positive abandon'd fop
(Among his numerous absurdities)
Stumbles upon some tolerable line,
I fret to see them in such company,

And wonder by what magic they came there. 400

But in long works sleep will sometimes surprise,
Homer himself hath been observ'd to nod.

Poems, like pictures, are of diff'rent sorts,
Some better at a distance, others near,
Some love the dark, some choose the clearest light,
And boldly challenge the most piercing eye,
Some please for once, some will for ever please.

144 Horace

But, Piso (tho' your own experience,
Join'd with your father's precepts,, make you wise)
Remember this as an important truth: 410

Some things admit of mediocrity,
A counsellor, or pleader at the bar,
May want Messala's pow'rful eloquence,
Or be less read than deep Cassellius;
Yet this indiff'rent lawyer is esteemed;
But no authority of gods nor men
Allows of any mean in poesy.
As an ill consort, and a coarse perfume,
Disgrace the delicacy of a feast,

And might with more discretion have been spar'd; 420
So poesy, whose end is to delight,
Admits of no degrees, but must be still
Sublimely good, or despicably ill.

In other things men have some reason left,
And one that cannot dance, or fence, or run,
Despairing of success, forbears to try;
But all (without consideration) write;
Some thinking that th' omnipotence of wealth
Can turn them into poets when they please.
But, Piso, you are of too quick a sight 430

Not to discern which way your talent lies,
Or vainly struggle with your genius;
Yet if it ever be your fate to write,
Let your productions pass the strictest hands,
Mine and your father's, and not see the light,
'Till time and care have ripen'd ev'ry line.
What you keep by you, you may change and mend
But words once spoke can never be recall'd.

Orpheus, inspir'd by more than human pow'r,
Did not (as poets feign) tame savage beasts, 440

But men as lawless, and as wild as they,
And first dissuaded them from rage and blood ;
Thus when Amphion built the Theban wall,
They feigned the stones obey'd his magic lute;
Poets, the first instructors of mankind,

The Art of Poetry 145

Brought all things to their proper, native use;

Some they appropriated to the Gods,

And some to public, some to private ends:

Promiscuous love by marriage was restrain'd,

Cities were built, and useful laws were made; 450

So ancient is the pedigree of verse,

And so divine a poet's function.

Then Homer's and Tyrtaeus' martial muse

Waken'd the world, and sounded loud alarms.

To verse we owe the sacred oracles,

And our best precepts of morality;

Some have by verse obtain'd the love of kings,

(Who, with the muses, ease their weary'd minds)

Then blush not, noble Piso, to protect

What gods inspire, and kings delight to hear. 460

Some think that poets may be form'd by art,
Others maintain, that nature makes them so;
I neither see what art without a vein,
Nor wit without the help of art can do,
But mutually they need each other's aid.
He that intends to gain th' Olympic prize
Must use himself to hunger, heat, and cold,
Take leave of wine, and the soft joys of love;
And no musician dares pretend to skill,
Without a great expense of time and pains; 470

But ev'ry little busy scribbler now
Swells with the praises which he gives himself;
And taking sanctuary in the crowd,
Brags of his impudence, and scorns to mend.

A wealthy poet takes more pains to hire
A flatt'ring audience than poor tradesmen do
To persuade customers to buy their goods.
'Tis hard to find a man of great estate,
That can distinguish flatterers from friends.
Never delude yourself, nor read your book 480

Before a brib'd and fawning auditor;
For he'll commend and feign an ecstasy,
Grow pale or weep, do anything to please;

146

Horace

True friends appear less mov'd than counterfeit;

As men that truly grieve at funerals

Are not so loud, as those that cry for hire.

Wise were the kings, who never chose a friend

'Till with full cups they had unmask'd his soul,

And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts;

You cannot arm yourself with too much care 490

Against the smiles of a designing knave.

Quintilius (if his advice were ask'd)
Would freely tell you what you should correct,
Or (if you could not) bid you blot it out,
And with more care supply the vacancy ;
But if he found you fond, and obstinate,
(And apter to defend than mend your faults)
With silence leave you to admire yourself,
And without rival hug your darling book.
The prudent care of an impartial friend 500

Will give you notice of each idle line,
Shew what sounds harsh, and what wants ornament,
Or where it is too lavishly bestow'd ;
Make you explain all that he finds obscure,
And with a strict inquiry mark your faults;
Nor for these trifles fear to lose vour love ;

j j

Those things which now seem frivolous and slight,
Will be of serious consequence to you,
When they have made you once ridiculous.

A mad dog's foam, th' infection of the plague, 510

And all the judgments of the angry Gods,
We are not all more needfully to shun,
Than poetasters in their raging fits,
Follow'd and pointed at by fools and boys,
But dreaded and proscrib'd by men of sense:
If (in the raving of a frantic muse)
And minding more his verses than his way,
Any of these should drop into a well,
Tho' he might burst his lungs to call for help,
No creature would assist or pity him, 520

But seem to think he fell on purpose in.

The Art of Poetry 147

Hear how an old Sicilian poet dy'd;

Empedocles, mad to be thought a god,

In a cold fit leap'd into Aetna's flames.

Give poets leave to make themselves away,

Why should it be a greater sin to kill,

Than to keep men alive against their will ?

Nor was this chance, but a delib'rate choice;

For if Empedocles were now reviv'd,

He would be at his frolic once again, 530

And his pretensions to divinity:

Tis hard to say whether for sacrilege,

Or incest, or some more unheard of crime,

The rhyming fiend is sent into these men;

But they are all most visibly possess'd,

And like a baited bear, when he breaks loose,

Without distinction seize on all they meet;

None ever scap'd that came within their reach,

Sticking, like leeches, 'till they burst with blood,

Without remorse insatiably they read, 540

And never leave 'till they have read men dead.

THE SATIRES- BOOK I

SATIRE I

THAT ALL,, BUT ESPECIALLY THE COVETOUS, THINK THEIR OWN

CONDITION THE HARDEST

How comes it to pass, Maecenas, that no one lives content
with his condition, whether reason gave it him, or chance
threw it in his way; [but] praises those who follow different
pursuits ? " 0 happy merchants ! " says the soldier, oppressed
with years, and now broken down in his limbs through excess
of labour. On the other side, the merchant, when the south
winds toss his ship, [cries] "Warfare is preferable;' for
why? the engagement is begun, and in an instant there
comes a speedy death or a joyful victory. The lawyer
praises the farmer's state when the client knocks at his door
by cock-crow. He who, having entered into a recognisance,
is dragged from the country into the city, cries, " Those only
are happy who live in the city." The other instances of this
kind (they are so numerous) would weary out the loquacious
Fabius; not to keep you in suspense, hear to what an issue I
will bring the matter. If any god should say, " Lo! I will
effect what you desire: you, that were just now a soldier,
shall be a merchant ; you, lately a lawyer, [shall be] a farmer.
Do ye depart one way, and ye another, having exchanged the
parts [you are to act in life]. How now! Why do you
stand ? ' They are unwilling; and yet it is in their power to
be happy. What reason can be assigned, but that Jupiter
should deservedly distend both his cheeks in indignation, and
declare that for the future he will not be so indulgent as to
lend an ear to their prayers ? But further, that I may not run
over this in a laughing manner, like those [who treat] on
ludicrous subjects (though what hinders one being merry,
while telling the truth? as good-natured teachers at first
give cakes to their boys, that they may be willing to learn

148

The Satires — Book I 149

their first rudiments: raillery, however, apart, let us investi-
gate serious matters). He that turns the heavy glebe with
the hard plough-share, this fraudulent tavern-keeper, the
soldier, and the sailors, who dauntless run through every sea,
profess that they endure toil with this intention, that as old
men they may retire into a secure resting-place, when once
they have gotten together a sufficient provision.

Thus the little ant, (for she is an example,) of great industry,
carries in her mouth whatever she is able, and adds to the
heap which she piles up, by no means ignorant and not care-
less for the future. Which [ant, nevertheless,] as soon as
Aquarius saddens the changed year, never creeps abroad, but
wisely makes use of those stores which were provided before-
hand : while neither sultry summer, nor winter, fire, ocean,
sword, can drive you from gain. You surmount every
obstacle, that no other man may be richer than yourself.
What pleasure is it for you, trembling to deposit an immense
weight of silver and gold in the earth dug up by stealth?
Because, if you should lessen it, it may be reduced to a paltry
farthing.

But unless that be the case, what beauty has an accumu-
lated hoard? Though your threshing-floor should yield a
hundred thousand bushels of corn, your belly will not on that
account contain more than mine : just as if it were your lot
to carry on your loaded shoulder the basket of bread among
slaves, you would receive no more [for your own share] than
he who bore no part of the burthen. Or tell me, what it is
to the purpose of that man, who lives within the compass of
nature, whether he plough a hundred or a thousand acres ?

" But it is still delightful to take out of a great hoard."

While you leave us to take as much out of a moderate store,
why should you extol your granaries, more than our corn-
baskets ? As if you had occasion for no more than a pitcher
or glass of water, and should say, " I had rather draw [so
much] from a great river, than the very same quantity from
this little fountain." Hence it comes to pass, that the rapid
Aufidus carries away, together with the bank, such men as an
abundance more copious than what is just delights. But he
who desires only so much as is sufficient, neither drinks water
fouled with the mud, nor loses his life in the waves.

150 Horace

But a great majority of mankind, misled by a wrong desire,
cry, " No sum is enough; because you are esteemed in pro-
portion to what you possess." What can one do to such a
tribe as this? Why, bid them be wretched, since their in-
clination prompts them to it. As a certain person is recorded
[to have lived] at Athens, covetous and rich, who was wont
to despise the talk of the people in this manner: " The crowd
hiss me; but I applaud myself at home, as soon as I contem-
plate my money in my chest." The thirsty Tantalus catches
at the streams, which elude his lips. Why do you laugh?
The name changed, the tale is told of you. You sleep upon
your bags, heaped up on every side, gaping over them, and
are obliged to abstain from them, as if they were consecrated
things, or to amuse yourself with them as you would with
pictures. Are you ignorant of what value money has, what
use it can afford? Bread, herbs, a bottle of wine may be
purchased; to which [necessaries], add [such others], as,
being withheld, human nature would be uneasy with itself.
What, to watch half dead with terror, night and day, to dread
profligate thieves, fire, and your slaves, lest they should run
away and plunder you ; is this delightful ? I should always
wish to be very poor in possessions held upon these terms.

But if your body should be disordered by being seized with
a cold, or any other casualty should confine you to your bed,
have you one that will abide by you, prepare medicines,
entreat the physician that he would set you upon your feet,
and restore you to your children and dear relations ?

Neither your wife, nor your son, desires your recovery; all
your neighbours, acquaintances, [nay the very] boys and girls
hate you. Do you wonder that no one tenders you the affec-
tion which you do not merit, since you prefer your money to
everything else? If you think to retain, and preserve as
friends, the relations which nature gives you, without taking
any pains; wretch that you are, you lose your labour equally,
as if any one should train an ass to be obedient to the rein,
and run in the Campus [Martius]. Finally, let there be
some end to your search : and, as your riches increase, be in
less dread of poverty; and begin to cease from your toil, that
being acquired which you coveted : nor do as did one Umidius,
(it is no tedious story,) who was so rich that he measured his

The Satires — Book I 151

money,, so sordid that he never clothed himself any better
than a slave; and, even to his last moments, was in dread
lest want of bread should oppress him : but his freedwoman,
the bravest of all the daughters of Tyndarus, cut him in two
with a hatchet.

' What therefore do you persuade me to ? That I should
lead the life of a Naevius, or in such a manner as a Nomen-
tanus ? '

You are going [now] to make things tally, that are contra-
dictory in their natures. When I bid you not be a miser, I
do not order you to become a debauchee and a prodigal.
There is some difference between the case of Tanais and his
son-in-law Visellius : there is a mean in things ; finally, there
are certain boundaries, on either side of which moral rectitude
cannot exist. I return now whence I digressed. Does no
one, after the miser's example, like his own station, but rather
praise those who have different pursuits; and pines, because
his neighbour's she-goat bears a more distended udder; nor
considers himself in relation to the greater multitude of poor;
but labours to surpass, first one, and then another ? Thus the
richer man is always an obstacle to one that is hastening [to
be rich] : as when the courser whirls along the chariot, dis-
missed from the place of starting; the charioteer presses upon
those horses which outstrip his own, despising him that is
left behind coming on among the last. Hence it is, that we
rarely find a man who can say he has lived happy, and content
with his past life, can retire from the world like a satisfied
guest. Enough for the present : nor will I add one word more,
lest you should suspect that I have plundered the escrutoire of
the blear-eyed Crispinus.

SATIRE II

BAD MEN, WHEN THEY AVOID CERTAIN VICES, FALL INTO THEIR

OPPOSITE EXTREMES

THE tribes of female flute-players, quacks, vagrants, mimics,
blackguards; all this set is sorrowful and dejected on account
of the death of the singer Tigellius ; for he was liberal [towards
them]. On the other hand, this man, dreading to be called

152 Horace

a spendthrift, will not give a poor friend wherewithal to keep
off cold and pinching hunger. If you ask him, why he
wickedly consumes the noble estate of his grandfather and
father in tasteless gluttony, buying with borrowed money all
sorts of dainties; he answers, because he is unwilling to be
reckoned sordid, or of a mean spirit; he is praised by some,
condemned by others. Fufidius, wealthy in lands, wealthy in
money put out at interest, is afraid of having the character
of a rake and spendthrift. This fellow deducts 5 per cent,
interest from the principal [at the time of lending]; and,
the more desperate in his circumstances any one is, the more
severely he pinches him: he hunts out the names of young
fellows, that have just put on the toga virilis under rigid
fathers. Who does not cry out, 0 sovereign Jupiter! when
he has heard [of such knavery] ? But [you will say, perhaps,]
this man expends upon himself in proportion to his gain.
You can hardly believe how little a friend he is to himself:
insomuch that the father, whom Terence's comedy introduces
as living miserable after he had caused his son to run away
from him, did not torment himself worse than he. Now if
any one should ask, " To what does this matter tend? ' To
this; while fools shun [one sort of] vices, they fall upon their
opposite extremes. Malthinus walks with his garments trail-
ing upon the ground; there is another droll fellow, who
[goes] with them tucked up even to his middle; Rufillus
smells like perfume itself, Gorgonius like a he-goat. There is
no mean. There are some who would not keep company
with a lady unless her modest garment perfectly conceal her
feet. Another, again, will only have such as take their station
in a filthy brothel. When a certain noted spark came out of a
stew, the divine Cato [greeted] him with this sentence:
" Proceed (says he) in your virtuous course. For, when
once foul lust has inflamed the veins, it is right for young
fellows to come hither, in comparison of their meddling with
other men's wives." I should not be willing to be commended
on such terms, says Cupiennius, an admirer of the silken veil.
Ye that do not wish well to the proceedings of adulterers,
it is worth your while to hear how they are hampered on all
sides; and that their pleasure, which happens to them but
seldom, is interrupted with a great deal of pain, and often in

The Satires — Book I 153

the midst of very great dangers. One has thrown himself
headlong from the top of a house : another has been whipped
almost to death: a third, in his flight, has fallen into a merci-
less gang of thieves: another has paid a fine, [to avoid]
corporal [punishment]: the lowest servants have treated
another with the vilest indignities. Moreover, this misfor-
tune happened to a certain person, he entirely lost his man-
hood. Everybody said, it was with justice : Galba denied it.

But how much safer is the traffic among [women] of the
second rate ! I mean the f reed-women : after which Sallus-
tius is not less mad, than he who commits adultery. But if
he had a mind to be good and generous, as far as his estate
and reason would direct him, and as far as a man might be
liberal with moderation; he would give a sufficiency, not
what would bring upon himself ruin and infamy. However,
he hugs himself in this one [consideration]; this he delights
in, this he extols; " I meddle with no matron." Just as
Marsaeus, the lover of Origo, he who gives his paternal estate
and seat to an actress, says, " I never meddle with other men's
wives." But you have with actresses, you have with common
strumpets: whence your reputation derives a greater per-
dition, than your estate. What, is it abundantly sufficient
to avoid the person, and not the [vice] which is universally
noxious? To lose one's good name, to squander a father's
effects, is in all cases an evil. What is the difference, [then,
with regard to yourself,] whether you sin with the person of
a matron, a maiden, or a prostitute ?

Villius, the son-in-law of Sylla, (by this title alone he was
misled,) suffered [for his commerce] with Fausta an adequate
and more than adequate punishment, by being drubbed and
stabbed, while he was shut out, that Longarenus might enjoy
her within. Suppose this [young man's] mind had addressed
him in the words of his appetite, perceiving such evil conse-
quences: "What would you have? Did I ever, when my
ardour was at the highest, demand a woman descended from
a great consul, and covered with robes of quality? ' What
could he answer? Why, " the girl was sprung from an illus-
trious father." But how much better things, and how dif-
ferent from this, does nature, abounding in stores of her own,
recommend ; if you would only make a proper use of them,

154 Horace

and not confound what is to be avoided with that which is
desirable ! Do you think it is of no consequence, whether
your distresses arise from your own fault or from [a real
deficiency] of things? Wherefore, that you may not repent
[when it is too late], put a stop to your pursuit after matrons;
whence more trouble is derived, than you can obtain of enjoy-
ment from success. Nor has [this particular matron], amidst
her pearls and emeralds, a softer thigh, or limbs more delicate
than yours, Cerinthus; nay, the prostitutes are frequently
preferable. Add to this, that [the prostitute] bears about her
merchandise without any varnish, and openly shows what she
has to dispose of; nor, if she has aught more comely than
ordinary, does she boast and make an ostentation of it, while
she is industrious to conceal that which is offensive. This is
the custom with men of fortune : when they buy horses, they
inspect them covered : that, if a beautiful forehand (as often)
be supported by a tender hoof, it may not take in the buyer,
eager for the bargain, because the back is handsome, the head
little, and the neck stately. This they do judiciously. Do
not you, [therefore, in the same manner] contemplate the per-
fections of each [fair one's] person with the eyes of Lynceus
but be blinder than Hypsaea, when you survey such parts as
are deformed. [You may cry out,] " O what a leg! 0 what
delicate arms! ' But [you suppress] that she is low-hipped,
short-waisted, with a long nose, and a splay foot. A man can
see nothing but the face of a matron, who carefully conceals
her other charms, unless it be a Catia. But if you will seek
after forbidden charms, (for the [circumstance of their being
forbidden] makes you mad after them,) surrounded as they
are with a fortification, many obstacles will then be in your
way: such as guardians, the sedan, dressers, parasites, the
long robe hanging down to the ankles, and covered with an
upper garment; a multiplicity of circumstances, which will
hinder you from having a fair view. The other throws no
obstacles in your way; through the silken vest you may dis-
cern her, almost as well as if she was naked; that she has
neither a bad leg, nor a disagreeable foot, you may survey her
form perfectly with your eye. Or would you choose to have
a trick put upon you, and your money extorted, before the
goods are shown you? [But perhaps you will sing to me

The Satires — Book I 155

these verses out of Callimachus.] As the huntsman pursues
the hare in the deep snow, but disdains to touch it when it is
placed before him : thus sings the rake, and applies it to him-
self; my love is like to this, for it passes over an easy prey,
and pursues what flies from it. Do you hope that grief, and
uneasiness, and bitter anxieties, will be expelled from your
breast by such verses as these ? Would it not be more profit-
able to inquire what boundary nature has affixed to the
appetites, what she can patiently do without, and what she
would lament the deprivation of, and to separate what is
solid from what is vain? What! when thirst parches your
jaws, are you solicitous for golden cups to drink out of?
What ! when you are hungry, do you despise everything but
peacock and turbot? When your passions are inflamed, and
a common gratification is at hand, would you rather be con-
sumed with desire than possess it? I would not: for I love
such pleasures as are of easiest attainment. But she whose
language is " By and by," " But for a small matter more,"
" If my husband should be out of the way," [is only] for
petit-maitres: and for himself, Philodemus says, he chooses
her who neither stands for a great price, nor delays to come
when she is ordered. Let her be fair, and straight, and so far
decent as not to appear desirous of seeming fairer than nature
has made her. When I am in the company of such an one,
she is my Ilia and Aegeria; I give her any name. Nor am I
apprehensive, while I am in her company, lest her husband
should return from the country ; the door should be broken
open; the dog should bark; the house, shaken, should re-
sound on all sides with a great noise; the woman, pale [with
fear], should bound away from me; lest the maid, conscious
[of guilt], should cry out, she is undone; lest she should be
in apprehension for her limbs, the detected wife for her por-
tion, I for myself; lest I must run away with my clothes all
loose, and bare-footed, for fear my money, or my person, or,
finally, my character should be demolished. It is a dreadful
thing to be caught: I could prove this, even if Fabius were
the judge.

156 Horace

SATIRE III

WE OUGHT TO CONNIVE AT THE FAULTS OF OUR FRIENDS, AND
ALL OFFENCES ARE NOT TO BE RANKED IN THE CATALOGUE
OF CRIMES

THIS is a fault common to all singers, that among their
friends they never are inclined to sing when they are asked,
[but] unasked they never desist. Tigellius, that Sardinian,
had this [fault]. Had Caesar, who could have forced him to
compliance, besought him on account of his father's friend-
ship and his own, he would have had no success ; if he him-
self was disposed, he would chant lo Bacche over and over,
from the beginning of an entertainment to the very conclusion
of it; one while at the deepest pitch of his voice, at anothei
time with that which answers to the highest string of the
tetrachord. There was nothing uniform in that fellow; fre-
quently would he run along, as one flying from an enemy;
more frequently [he walked], as if he bore [in procession] the
sacrifice of Juno: he had often two hundred slaves, often
but ten: one while talking of kings and potentates, every
thing that was magnificent; at another — " Let me have a
three-legged table, and a cellar of clean salt, and a gown
which though coarse, may be sufficient to keep out the
cold." Had you given ten hundred thousand sesterces to
this moderate man who was content with such small matters,
in five days time there would be nothing in his bags. He
sat up at nights, [even] to day-light; he snored out all the
day. Never was there anything so inconsistent with itself.
Now some person may say to me, " What are you? Have
you no faults? ' Yes, others; but others, and perhaps of a
less culpable nature.

When Maenius railed at Novius in his absence : ' Hark
ye," says a certain person, "are you ignorant of yourself?
or do you think to impose yourself upon us a person we do
not know ? ' " As for me, I forgive myself," quoth Maenius.
This is a foolish and impious self-love, and worthy to be
stigmatised. When you look over your own vices, winking

The Satires — Book I 157

at them, as it were,, with sore eyes; why are you with regard
to those of your friends as sharp-sighted as an eagle, or the
Epidaurian serpent? But, on the other hand, it is your lot
that your friends should inquire into your vices in turn. [A
certain person] is a little too hasty in his temper; not well
calculated for the sharp-witted sneers of these men : he may
be made a jest of because his gown hangs awkwardly, he [at
the same time] being trimmed in a very rustic manner, and
his wide shoe hardly sticks to his foot. But he is so good,
that no man can be better; but he is your friend: but an
immense genius is concealed under this unpolished person of
his. Finally, sift yourself thoroughly, whether nature has
originally sown the seeds of any vice in you, or even an ill
habit [has done it]. For the fern, fit [only] to be burned,
overruns the neglected fields.

Let us return from our digression. As his mistress's dis-
agreeable failings escape the blinded lover, or even give him
pleasure, (as Hagna's wen does to Balbinus,) I could wish
that we erred in this manner with regard to friendship, and
that virtue had affixed a reputable appellation to such an
error. And as a father ought not to contemn his son, if he
has any defect, in the same manner we ought not [to contemn]
our friend. The father calls his squinting boy, a pretty leer-
ing rogue ; and if any man has a little despicable brat, such
as the abortive Sisyphus formerly was, he calls it a sweet
moppet: this [child] with distorted legs, [the father] in a
fondling voice calls one of the Vari ; and another, who is club-
footed, he calls a Scaurus. [Thus, does] this friend of yours
live more sparingly than ordinarily? Let him be styled a
man of frugality. Is another impertinent, and apt to brag a
little ? He requires to be reckoned entertaining to his friends.
But [another] is too rude, and takes greater liberties than are
fitting. Let him be esteemed a man of sincerity and bravery.
Is he too fiery? Let him be numbered among persons of
spirit. This method, in my opinion, both unites friends, and
preserves them in a state of union. But we invert the very
virtues themselves, and are desirous of throwing dirt upon
the untainted vessel. Does a man of probity live among us ?
he is a person of singular diffidence; we give him the name of
a dull and fat-headed fellow. Does this man avoid every

158 Horace

snare, and lay himself open to no ill-designing villain ; since
we live amidst such a race, where keen envy and accusations
are flourishing? Instead of a sensible and wary man, we call
him a disguised and subtle fellow. And is any one more
open, [and less reserved] than usual in such a degree as I
often have presented myself to you, Maecenas, so as perhaps
impertinently to interrupt a person reading, or musing, with
any kind of prate? We cry, " [this fellow] actually wants
common sense." Alas! how indiscreetly do we ordain a
severe law against ourselves! For no one is born without
vices : he is the best man who is encumbered with the least.
When my dear friend, as is just, weighs my good qualities
against my bad ones, let him, if he is willing to be beloved,
turn the scale to the majority of the former, (if I have indeed a
majority of good qualities,) on this condition, he shall be
placed in the same balance. He who requires that his friend
should not take offence at his own protuberances, will excuse
his friend's little warts. It is fair that he who entreats a
pardon for his own faults, should grant one in his turn.

Upon the whole, forasmuch as the vice anger, as well as
others inherent in foolish [mortals], cannot be totally eradi-
cated, why does not human reason make use of its own
weights and measures; and so punish faults, as the nature of
the thing demands? If any man should punish with the
cross a slave, who being ordered to take away the dish should
gorge the half-eaten fish and warm sauce; he would, among
people in their senses, be called a madder man than Labeo.
How much more irrational and heinous a crime is this!
Your friend has been guilty of a small error, (which, unless
you forgive, you ought to be reckoned a sour, ill-natured
fellow,) you hate and avoid him, as a debtor does Ruso; who,
when the woeful calends come upon the unfortunate man,
unless he procures the interest or capital by hook or by
crook, is compelled to hear his miserable stories with his neck
stretched out like a slave. [Should my friend] in his liquor
water my couch, or has he thrown down a jar carved by the
hands of Evander; shall he for this [trifling] affair, or because
in his hunger he has taken a chicken before me out of my
part of the dish, be the less agreeable friend to me? [If so],
what could I do if he was guilty of theft, or had betrayed

The Satires — Book I 159

things committed to him in confidence,, or broken his word.
They who are pleased [to rank all] faults nearly on an equality
are troubled when they come to the truth of the matter:
sense and morality are against them, and utility itself, the
mother almost of right and of equity.

When [rude] animals, they crawled forth upon the first-
formed earth, the mute and dirty herd fought with their nails
and fists for their acorn and caves, afterwards with clubs, and
finally with arms which experience had forged : till they found
out words and names, by which they ascertained their lan-
guage and sensations : thenceforward they began to abstain
from war, to fortify towns, and establish laws : that no person
should be a thief, a robber, or an adulterer. For before
Helen's time there existed [many] a woman who was the
dismal cause of war: but those fell by unknown deaths, whom
pursuing uncertain venery, as the bull in the herd, the
strongest slew. It must of necessity be acknowledged, if you
have a mind to turn over the aeras and annals of the world,
that laws were invented from an apprehension of the natural
injustice [of mankind]. Nor can nature separate what is
unjust from what is just, in the same manner as she distin-
guishes what is good from its reverse, and what is to be
avoided from that which is to be sought : nor will reason per-
suade men to this, that he who breaks down the cabbage-
stalk of his neighbour, sins in as great a measure, and in the
same manner, as he who steals by night things consecrated to
the gods. Let there be a settled standard, that may inflict
adequate punishments upon crimes; lest you should perse-
cute any one with the horrible thong, who is only deserving
of a slight whipping. For I am not apprehensive, that you
should correct with the rod one that deserves to suffer severer
stripes ; since you assert that pilfering is an equal crime with
highway robbery, and threaten that you would prune off
with an undistinguishing hook little and great vices, if man-
kind were to give you the sovereignty over them. If he be
rich, who is wise, and a good shoemaker, and alone handsome,
and a king, why do you wish for that which you are possessed
of? You do not understand what Chrysippus, the father [of
your sect], says: " The wise man never made himself shoes
nor slippers: nevertheless, the wise man is a shoemaker.

160 Horace

How so? In the same manner, though Hermogenes be
silent, he is a fine singer notwithstanding, and an excellent
musician: as the subtle [lawyer] Alfenus, after every instru-
ment of his calling was thrown aside, and his shop shut up,
was [still] a barber: thus is the wise man of all trades, thus
is he a king. 0 greatest of great kings, the waggish boys
pluck you by the beard ; whom unless you restrain with your
staff, you will be jostled by a mob all about you, and you may
wretchedly bark and burst your lungs in vain. Not to be
tedious: while you, my king, shall go to the farthing bath,
and no guard shall attend you, except the absurd Crispinus;
my dear friends will both pardon me in any matter in which I
shall foolishly offend, and I in turn will cheerfully put up with
their faults; and, though a private man, I shall live more
happily than you, a king.

SATIRE IV

HE APOLOGISES FOR THE LIBERTIES TAKEN BY SATIRIC POETS
IN GENERAL, AND PARTICULARLY BY HIMSELF

THE poets Eupolis, and Cratinus, and Aristophanes, and
others, who are authors of the ancient comedy, if there was
any person deserving to be distinguished for being a rascal or
a thief, an adulterer or a cut-throat, or in any shape an in-
famous fellow, branded him with great freedom. Upon these
[models] Lucilius entirely depends, having imitated them,
changing only their feet and numbers: a man of wit, of great
keenness, inelegant in the composition of verse: for in this
respect he was faulty; he would often, as a great feat, dictate
two hundred verses in an hour, standing in the same position.
As he flowed muddily, there was [always] something that one
would wish to remove ; he was verbose, and too lazy to en-
dure the fatigue of writing — of writing accurately : for, with
regard to the quantity [of his works], I make no account of
it. See! Crispinus challenges me even for ever so little a
wager. Take, if you dare, take your tablets, and I will take
mine; let there be a place, a time, and persons appointed to

The Satires — Book I 161

see fair play: let us see who can write the most. The gods
have done a good part by me, since they have framed me
of an humble and meek disposition, speaking but seldom,
briefly: but do you, [Crispinus,] as much as you will, imitate
air which is shut up in leathern bellows, perpetually puffing
till the fire softens the iron. Fannius is a happy man, who,
of his own accord, has presented his manuscripts and picture
[to the Palatine Apollo]; when not a soul will peruse my
writings, who am afraid to rehearse in public, on this account,
because there are certain persons who can by no means relish
this kind [of satiric writing], as there are very many who
deserve censure. Single any man out of the crowd ; he either
labours under a covetous disposition, or under wretched
ambition. One is mad in love with married women, another
with youths; a third the splendour of silver captivates:
Albius is in raptures with brass ; another exchanges his mer-
chandise from the rising sun, even to that with which the
western regions are warmed: but he is hurried headlong
through dangers, as dust wrapped up in a whirlwind; in
dread lest he should lose anything out of his capital, or [in
hope] that he may increase his store. All these are afraid of
verses, they hate poets. " He has hay on his horn, [they
cry ;] avoid him at a great distance : if he can but raise a laugh
for his own diversion, he will not spare any friend: and
whatever he has once blotted upon his paper, he will take a
pleasure in letting all the boys and old women know, as they
return from the bakehouse or the lake." But, come on,
attend to a few words on the other side of the question.

In the first place, I will except myself out of the number
of those I would allow to be poets: for one must not call it
sufficient to tag a verse : nor if any person, like me, writes in
a style bordering on conversation, must you esteem him to be
a poet. To him who has genius, who has a soul of a diviner
cast, and a greatness of expression, give the honour of this
appellation. On this account some have raised the question,
whether comedy be a poem or not: because an animated
spirit and force is neither in the style, nor the subject-matter:
bating that it differs from prose by a certain measure, it is
mere prose. But [one may object to this, that even in
comedy] an inflamed father rages, because his dissolute son,
GPS

1 62 Horace

mad after a prostitute mistress, refuses a wife with a large
portion; and (what is an egregious scandal) rambles about
drunk with flambeaux by day-light. Yet could Pomponius,
were his father alive; hear less severe reproofs ! Wherefore
it is not sufficient to write verses merely in proper language ;
which,, if you take to pieces, any person may storm in the
same manner as the father in the play. If from these verses
which I write at this present, or those that Lucilius did
formerly, you take away certain pauses and measures, and
make that word which was first in order hindermost, by
placing the latter [words] before those that preceded [in the
verse] ; you will not discern the limbs of a poet, when pulled
in pieces, in the same manner as you would were you to trans-
pose ever so [these lines of Ennius] :

When discord dreadful bursts the brazen bars,
And shatters iron locks to thunder forth her wars.

So far of this matter; at another opportunity [I may
investigate] whether [a comedy] be a true poem or not: now
I shall only consider this point, whether this [satiric] kind of
writing be deservedly an object of your suspicion. Sulcius
the virulent, and Caprius hoarse with their malignancy, walk
[openly], and with their libels too [in their hands]; each of
them a singular terror to robbers : but if a man lives honestly
and with clean hands, he may despise them both. Though
you be like highwaymen, Coelus and Byrrhus, I am not [a
common accuser], like Caprius and Sulcius; why should you
be afraid of me? No shop nor stall holds my books, which
the sweaty hands of the vulgar and of Hermogenes Tigellius
may soil. I repeat to nobody, except my intimates, and that
when I am pressed; nor any where, ana before any body.
There are many, who recite their writings in the middle of
the forum; and who [do it] while bathing: the closeness of
the place, [it seems,] gives melody to the voice. This pleases
coxcombs, who never consider whether they do this to no
purpose, or at an unseasonable time. But you, says he,
delight to hurt people, and this you do out of a mischievous
disposition. From what source do you throw this calumny
upon me ? Is any one then your voucher, with whom I have
lived ? He who backbites his absent friend ; [nay more,] who

The Satires — Book I 163

does not defend, at another's accusing him; who affects to
raise loud laughs in company, and the reputation of a funny
fellow who can feign things he never saw ; who cannot keep
secrets; he is a dangerous man: be you, Roman, aware of
him. You may often see it [even in crowded companies],
where twelve sup together on three couches; one of which
shall delight at any rate to asperse the rest, except him who
furnishes the bath; and him too afterwards in his liquor,
when truth-telling Bacchus opens the secrets of his heart.
Yet this man seems entertaining, and well-bred, and frank to
you, who are an enemy to the malignant: but do I, if I have
laughed because the fop Rufillus smells all perfumes, and
Gorgonius, like a he-goat, appear invidious and a snarler to
you? If by any means mention happen to be made of the
thefts of Petillius Capitolinus in your company, you defend
him after your manner: [as thus,] Capitolinus has had me
for a companion and friend from childhood, and on being
applied to, has done many things on my account: and I am
glad that he lives secure in the city; but I wonder, notwith-
standing, how he evaded that sentence. This is the very
essence of black malignity, this is mere malice itself: which
crime, that it shall be far remote from my writings, and prior
to them from my mind, I promise, if I can take upon me to
promise anything sincerely of myself. If I shall say anything
too freely, if perhaps too ludicrously, you must favour me by
your indulgence with this allowance. For my excellent
father inured me to this custom, that by noting each parti-
cular vice I might avoid it by the example [of others]. When
he exhorted me that I should live thriftily, frugally, and con-
tent with what he had provided for me; don't you see,
[would he say,] how wretchedly the son of Albius lives ? and
how miserably Barrus? A strong lesson to hinder any one
from squandering away his patrimony. When he would
deter me from filthy fondness for a light woman : [take care,
said he,] that you do not resemble Sectanus. That I might
not follow adulteresses, when I could enjoy a lawful amour:
the character, cried he, of Trebonius, who was caught in the
fact, is by no means creditable. The philosopher may tell
you the reasons for what is better to be avoided, and what
to be pursued. It is sufficient for me, if I can preserve the

164 Horace

morality traditional from my forefathers, and keep your life
and reputation inviolate, so long as you stand in need of a
guardian: so soon as age shall have strengthened your limbs
and mind, you will swim without cork. In this manner he
formed me, as yet a boy: and whether he ordered me to do
any particular thing: You have an authority for doing this:
[then] he instanced some one out of the select magistrates:
or did he forbid me [anything]; can you doubt, [says he,]
whether this thing be dishonourable, and against your interest
to be done, when this person and the other is become such a
burning shame for his bad character [on these accounts]?
As a neighbouring funeral dispirits sick gluttons, and through
fear of death forces them to have mercy upon themselves;
so other men's disgraces often deter tender minds from vices.
From this [method of education] I am clear from all such vices,
as bring destruction along with them: by lighter foibles, and
such as you may excuse, I am possessed. And even from
these, perhaps, a maturer age, the sincerity of a friend, or my
own judgment, may make great reductions. For neither
when I am in bed, or in the piazzas, am I wanting to myself:
this way of proceeding is better; by doing such a thing I
shall live more comfortably; by this means I shall render
myself agreeable to my friends; such a transaction was not
clever; what, shall I, at any time, imprudently commit any-
thing like it? These things I revolve in silence by myself.
When I have any leisure, I amuse myself with my papers.
This is one of those lighter foibles [I was speaking of] : to which
if you do not grant your indulgence, a numerous band of
poets shall come, which will take my part, (for we are many
more in number,) and, like the Jews, we will force you to come
over to our numerous party.

The Satires — Book I 165

SATIRE V

HE DESCRIBES A CERTAIN JOURNEY OF HIS FROM ROME TO
BRUNDUSIUM WITH GREAT PLEASANTRY

HAVING left mighty Rome,, Aricia received me in but a
middling inn: Heliodorus the rhetorician, most learned in the
Greek language, was my fellow-traveller: thence we pro-
ceeded to Forum-Appi, stuffed with sailors and surly land-
lords. This stage, but one for better travellers than we,
being laggard we divided into two; the Appian way is less
tiresome to bad travellers. Here I, on account of the water,
which was most vile, proclaim war against my belly, waiting
not without impatience for my companions whilst at supper.
Now the night was preparing to spread her shadows upon the
earth, and to display the constellations in the heavens. Then
our slaves began to be liberal of their abuse to the watermen,
and the watermen to our slaves. " Here bring to." " You
are stowing in hundreds; hold, now sure there is enough.
Thus while the fare is paid, and the mule fastened, a whole
hour is passed away. The cursed gnats, and frogs of the
fens, drive off repose. While the waterman and a passenger,
well-soaked with plenty of thick wine, vie with one another
in singing the praises of their absent mistresses: at length
the passenger, being fatigued, begins to sleep; and the lazy
waterman ties the halter of the mule turned out a-grazing to
a stone, and snores, lying flat on his back. And now the day
approached, when we saw the boat made no way; until a
choleric fellow, one of the passengers, leaps out of the boat,
and drubs the head and sides of both mule and waterman
with a willow cudgel. At last we were scarcely set ashore at
the fourth hour. We wash our faces and hands in thy water,
0 Feronia. Then, having dined, we crawled on three miles;
and arrive under Anxur, which is built upon rocks that look
white to a great distance. Maecenas was to come here, as
was the excellent Cocceius, both sent ambassadors on matters
of great importance; having been accustomed to reconcile
friends at variance. Here, having got sore eyes, I was obliged

> ?

1 66 Horace

to use the black ointment. In the meantime came Maecenas,
and Cocceius, and Fonteius Capito along with them, a man
of perfect polish., and intimate with Mark Antony,, no man
more so.

Without regret we passed Fundi, where Aufidius Luscus
was praetor,, laughing at the honours of that crazy scribe,
his praetexta, laticlave, and pan of incense. At our next
stage, being weary, we tarry in the city of the Mamurrae,
Murena complimenting us with his house, and Capito with
his kitchen.

The next day arises, by much the most agreeable to all:
for Plotius, and Varius, and Virgil met us at Sinuessa; souls
more candid ones than which the world never produced, nor
is there a person in the world more bound to them than my-
self. Oh what embraces, and what transports were there!
While I am in my senses, nothing can I prefer to a pleasant
friend. The village, which is next adjoining to the bridge of
Campania, accommodated us with lodging [at night]; and
the public officers with such a quantity of fuel and salt as
they are obliged to [by law]. From this place the mules
deposited their pack-saddles at Capua betimes [in the morn-
ing]. Maecenas goes to play [at tennis] ; but I and Virgil to
our repose : for to play at tennis is hurtful to weak eyes and
feeble constitutions.

From this place the villa of Cocceius, situated above the
Caudian inns, which abounds with plenty, receives us. Now,
my muse, I beg of you briefly to relate the engagement
between the buffoon Sarmentus and Messius Cicirrus; and
from what ancestry descended each began the contest.
The illustrious race of Messius — Oscan : Sarmentus's mistress
is still alive. Sprung from such families as these, they came
to the combat. First, Sarmentus; " I pronounce thee to
have the look of a mad horse." We laugh; and Messius
himself [says], " I accept your challenge: " and wags his head.
" 0! " cries he, " if the horn were not cut off your forehead,
what would you not do; since, maimed as you are, you bully
at such a rate ? ' For a foul scar had disgraced the left part
of Messius's bristly forehead. Cutting many jokes upon his
Campanian disease, and upon his face, he desired him to
exhibit Polyphemus's dance: that he had no occasion fora

The Satires — Book I 167

mask, or the tragic buskins. Cicirrus [retorted] largely to
these : he asked,, whether he had consecrated his chain to the
household gods according to his vow; though he was a scribe,
[he told him] his mistress's property in him was not the less.
Lastly, he asked, how he ever came to run away; such a lank
meagre fellow, for whom a pound of corn [a-day] would be
ample. We were so diverted, that we continued that supper
to an unusual length.

Hence we proceed straight on for Beneventum ; where the
bustling landlord almost burned himself, in roasting some
lean thrushes: for, the fire falling through the old kitchen
[floor], the spreading flame made a great progress towards
the highest part of the roof. Then you might have seen the
hungry guests and frightened slaves snatching their supper
out [of the flames], and everybody endeavouring to extin-
guish the fire.

After this Apulia began to discover to me her well-known
mountains, which the Atabulus scorches [with his blasts]:
and through which we should never have crept, unless the
neighbouring village of Trivicus had received us, not without
a smoke that brought tears into our eyes; occasioned by a
hearth's burning some green boughs with the leaves upon
them. Here, like a great fool as I was, I wait till midnight
for a deceitful mistress : sleep, however, overcomes me, whilst
meditating love ; and disagreeable dreams make me ashamed
of myself and everything about me.

Hence we were bowled away in chaises twenty-four miles,
intending to stop at a little town, which one cannot name in
a verse, but it is easily enough known by description. For
water is sold here, though it is the worst in the world; but
their bread is exceeding fine, insomuch that the wary traveller
is used to carry it willingly on his shoulders ; for [the bread]
at Canusium is gritty; a pitcher of water is worth no more
[than it is here]: which place was formerly built by the
valiant Diomedes. Here Varius departs dejected from his
weeping friends.

Hence we came to Rubi, fatigued : because we made a long
journey, and it was rendered still more troublesome by the
rains. Next day the weather was better, the road worse,
even to the very walls of Barium that abounds in fish. In

1 68 Horace

the next place Egnatia, which [seems to have] been built on
troubled waters, gave us occasion for jests and laughter; for
they wanted to persuade us, that at this sacred portal the
incense melted without fire. The Jew Apella may believe this,
not I. For I have learned [from Epicurus], that the gods
dwell in a state of tranquillity; nor, if nature effect any
wonder, that the anxious gods send it from the high canopy
of the heavens.

Brundusium ends both my long journey, and my paper.

SATIRE VI

OF TRUE NOBILITY

NOT, Maecenas, though, of all the Lydians that ever inhabited
the Tuscan territories, no one is of a nobler family than
yourself; and though you have ancestors both on father's and
mother's side, that in times past have had the command of
mighty legions; do you, as the generality are wont, toss up
your nose at obscure people, such as me, who had [only] a
f reed-man for my father: since you affirm that it is of no
consequence of what parents any man is born, so that he be
a man of merit. You persuade yourself, with truth, that
before the dominion of Tullius, and the reign of one born a
slave, frequently numbers of men, descended from ancestors
of no rank, have both lived as men of merit, and have been
distinguished by the greatest honours: [while] on the other
hand Laevinus, the descendant of that famous Valerius, by
whose means Tarquinius Superbus was expelled from his
kingdom, was not a farthing more esteemed [on account of
his family, even] in the judgment of the people, with whose
disposition you are well acquainted; who often foolishly
bestow honours on the unworthy, and are from their stupidity
slaves to a name : who are struck with admiration by inscrip-
tions and statues. What is it fitting for us to do, who are
far, very far removed from the vulgar [in our sentiments] ?
For grant it, that the people had rather confer a dignity on
Laevinus than on Decius, who is a new man; and the censor

The Satires — Book I 169

Appius would expel me [the senate-house], because I was
not sprung from a sire of distinction : and that too deservedly,
inasmuch as I rested not content in my own condition. But
glory drags in her dazzling car the obscure as closely fettered
as those of nobler birth. What did it profit you, O Tullius,
to resume the robe that you [were forced] to lay aside, and
become a tribune [again] ? Envy increased upon you, which
had been less, if you had remained in a private station. For
when any crazy fellow has laced the middle of his leg with
the sable buskins, and has let flow the purple robe from his
breast, he immediately hears; " Who is this man? Whose
son is he ? ' Just as if there be any one, who labours under
the same distemper as Barrus does, so that he is ambitious of
being reckoned handsome ; let him go where he will, he excites
curiosity amongst the girls of inquiring into particulars; as
what sort of face, leg, foot, teeth, hair, he has. Thus he who
engages to his citizens to take care of the city, the empire,
and Italy, and the sanctuaries of the gods, forces every mortal
to be solicitous, and to ask from what sire he is descended, or
whether he is base by the obscurity of his mother. What?
do you, the son of a Syrus, a Dama, or a Dionysius, dare to
cast down the citizens of Rome from the [Tarpeian] rock, or
deliver them up to Cadmus [the executioner]? But, [you
may say,] my colleague Novius sits below me by one degree :
for he is only what my father was. And therefore do you
esteem yourself a Paulus or a Messala? But he, (Novius,)
if two hundred carriages and three funerals were to meet in
the forum, could make noise enough to drown all their horns
and trumpets: this [kind of merit] at least has its weight
with us.

Now I return to myself, who am descended from a freed-
man; whom everybody nibbles at, as being descended from
a freed-man. Now, because, Maecenas, I am a constant
guest of yours; but formerly, because a Roman legion was
under my command, as being a military tribune. This latter
case is different from the former: for, though any person
perhaps might justly envy me that post of honour, yet could
he not do so with regard to your being my friend ! especially
as you are cautious to admit such as are worthy; and are far
from having any sinister ambitious views. I cannot reckon

170 Horace

myself a lucky fellow on this account, as if it were by accident
that I got you for my friend ; for no kind of accident threw
you in my way. That best of men, Virgil, long ago, and after
him, Varius, told you what I was. When first I came into
your presence, I spoke a few words in a broken manner (for
childish bashfulness hindered me from speaking more); I did
not tell you that I was the issue of an illustrious father: I
did not [pretend] that I rode about the country on a Satureian
horse, but plainly what I really was: you answer (as your
custom is) a few words : I depart: and you re-invite me after
the ninth month, and command me to be in the number of
your friends. I esteem it a great thing that I pleased you,
who distinguish probity from baseness, not by the illustrious-
ness of a father, but by the purity of heart and feelings.

And yet if my disposition be culpable for a few faults, and
those small ones, otherwise perfect, (as if you should con-
demn moles scattered over a beautiful skin,) if no one can
justly lay in fine, (to speak in my own praise,) I live undefiled,
and innocent, and dear to my friends; my father was the
cause of all this : who though a poor man on a lean farm, was
unwilling to send me to a school under [the pedant] P'lavius,
where great boys, sprung from great centurions, having their
satchels and tablets swung over their left arm, used to go
with money in their hands the very day it was due ; but had
the spirit to bring me a child to Rome, to be taught those
arts which any Roman knight and senator can teach his own
children. So that, if any person had considered my dress,
and the slaves who attended me in so populous a city, he
would have concluded that those expenses were supplied to
me out of some hereditary estate. He himself, of all others
the most faithful guardian, was constantly about every one
of my preceptors. Why should I multiply words? He pre-
served me chaste (which is the first honour of virtue) not only
from every actual guilt, but likewise from [every] foul im-
putation, nor was he afraid lest any should turn it to his
reproach, if I should come to follow a business attended with
small profits, in capacity of an auctioneer, or (what he was
himself) a tax-gatherer. Nor [had that been the case] should
I have complained. On this account the more praise is due
to him, and from me a greater degree of gratitude. As long

The Satires — Book I 171

as I am in my senses,, I can never be ashamed of such a father
as this, and therefore shall not apologise [for my birth], in
the manner that numbers do, by affirming it to be no fault of
theirs. My language and way of thinking is far different
from such persons. For if nature were to make us from a
certain term of years to go over our past time again, and
[suffer us] to choose other parents, such as every man for
ostentation's sake would wish for himself; I, content with
my own, would not assume those that are honoured with the
ensigns and seats of state ; [for which I should seem] a mad-
man in the opinion of the mob, but in yours, I hope, a man of
sense; because I should be unwilling to sustain a trouble-
some burden, being by no means used to it. For I must
[then] immediately set about acquiring a larger fortune, and
more people must be complimented ; and this and that com-
panion must be taken along, so that I could neither take a
jaunt into the country, or a journey by myself; more
attendants and more horses must be fed ; coaches must be
drawn. Now, if I please, I can go as far as Tarentum on
my bob-tailed mule, whose loins the portmanteau galls with
its weight, as does the horseman his shoulders. No one will
lay to my charge such sordidness as he may, Tullius, to you,
when five slaves follow you, a praetor, along the Tiburtian
way, carrying a travelling kitchen, and a vessel of wine.
Thus I live more comfortably, O illustrious senator, than you,
and than thousands of others. Wherever I have a fancy, I
walk by myself: I inquire the price of herbs and bread: I
traverse the tricking circus, and the forum often in the even-
ing: I stand listening amongst the fortune-tellers: thence I
take myself home to a plate of onions, pulse, and pancakes.
My supper is served up by three slaves; and a white stone
slab supports two cups and a brimmer: near the salt-cellar
stand a homely cruet with a little bowl, earthen ware from
Campania. Then I go to rest; by no means concerned that
I must rise in the morning, and pay a visit to the statue of
Marsyas, who denies that he is able to bear the look of the
younger Novius. I lie a-bed to the fourth hour; after that
I take a ramble, or having read or written what may amuse
me in my privacy, I am anointed with oil, but not with such
as the nasty Nacca, when he robs the lamps. But when the

172 Horace

sun, become more violent, has reminded me to go to bathe,
I avoid the Campus Martius and the game of hand-ball.
Having dined in a temperate manner, just enough to hinder
me from having an empty stomach, during the rest of the day
I trifle in my own house. This is the life of those who are
free from wretched and burdensome ambition: with such
things as these I comfort myself, in a way to live more delight-
fully than if my grandfather had been a quaestor, and father
and uncle too.

SATIRE VII

HE HUMOROUSLY DESCRIBES A SQUABBLE BETWIXT RUPILIUS

AND PERSIUS

IN what manner the mongrel Persius revenged the filth and
venom of Rupilius, surnamed King, is I think known to all
the blind men and barbers. This Persius, being a man of
fortune, had very great business at Clazomenae, and, into
the bargain, certain troublesome litigations with King; a
hardened fellow, and one who was able to exceed even King
in virulence; confident, blustering, of such a bitterness of
speech, that he would outstrip the Sisennae and Barri, if ever
so well equipped.

I return to King. After nothing could be settled betwixt
them, (for people amongst whom adverse war breaks out, are
proportionably vexatious on the same account as they are
brave. Thus between Hector, the son of Priam, and the
high-spirited Achilles, the rage was of so capital a nature,
that only the final destruction [of one of them] could deter-
mine it; on no other account, than that valour in each of
them was consummate. If discord sets two cowards to work ;
or if an engagement happens between two that are not of a
match, as that of Diomed and the Lycian Glaucus; the
worse man will walk off, [buying his peace] by voluntarily
sending presents,) when Brutus held as praetor the fertile
Asia, this pair, Rupilius and Persius, encountered ; in such a
manner, that [the gladiators] Bacchius and Bithus were not

The Satires — Book I 173

better matched. Impetuous they hurry to the cause, each
of them a fine sight.

Persius opens his case; and is laughed at by all the
assembly; he extols Brutus, and extols the guard ; he styles
Brutus the sun of Asia, and his attendants he styles salutary
stars, all except King; that he, [he says,] came like that dog,
the constellation hateful to husbandmen: he poured along
like a wintry flood, where the axe seldom comes.

Then, upon his running on in so smart and fluent a manner,
the Praenestine [king] directs some witticisms squeezed from
the vineyard, himself a hardy vine-dresser, never defeated,
to whom the passenger had often been obliged to yield, bawling
cuckoo with roaring voice.

But the Grecian Persius, as soon as he had been well
sprinkled with Italian vinegar, bellows out: 0 Brutus, by
the great gods I conjure you, who are accustomed to take off
kings, why do you not despatch this King? Believe me, this
is a piece of work which of right belongs to you.

SATIRE VIII

PRIAPUS COMPLAINS THAT THE ESQUILIAN MOUNT IS INFESTED
WITH THE INCANTATIONS OF SORCERESSES

FORMERLY I was the trunk of a wild fig-tree, an useless log :
when the artificer, in doubt whether he should make a stool
or a Priapus of me, determined that I should be a god.
Henceforward I became a god, the greatest terror of thieves
and birds: for my right hand restrains thieves, and a bloody-
looking pole stretched out from my frightful middle : but a
reed fixed upon the crown of my head terrifies the mis-
chievous birds, and hinders them from settling in these new
gardens. Before this the fellow-slave bore dead corpses
thrown out of their narrow cells to this place, in order to be
deposited in paltry coffins. This place stood a common
sepulchre for the miserable mob, for the buffoon Pantolabus,
and Nomentanus the rake. Here a column assigned a thou-
sand feet [of ground] in front, and three hundred towards the

174 Horace

fields: that the burial-place should not descend to the heirs
of the estate. Now one may live in the Esquiliae, [since it
is made] a healthy place; and walk upon an open terrace,
where lately the melancholy passengers beheld the ground
frightful with white bones ; though both the thieves and wild
beasts accustomed to infest this place, do not occasion me so
much care and trouble, as do [these hags], that turn people's
minds by their incantations and drugs. These I cannot by
any means destroy nor hinder, but that they will gather bones
and noxious herbs, as soon as the fleeting moon has shown
her beauteous face.

I myself saw Canidia, with her sable garment tucked up,
walk with bare feet and dishevelled hair, yelling together
with the elder Sagana. Paleness had rendered both of them
horrible to behold. They began to claw up the earth with
their nails, and to tear a black ewe-lamb to pieces with their
teeth. The blood was poured into a ditch, that thence they
might charm out the shades of the dead, ghosts that were to
give them answers. There was a woollen effigy too, another
of wax: the woollen one larger, which was to inflict punish-
ment on the little one. The waxen stood in a suppliant
posture, as ready to perish in a servile manner. One of the
hags invokes Hecate, and the other fell Tisiphone. Then
might you see serpents and infernal bitches wander about;
and the moon with blushes hiding behind the lofty monu-
ments, that she might not be a witness to these doings. But
if I lie, even a tittle, may my head be contaminated with the
white filth of ravens; and may Julius, and the effeminate
Pediatia, and the knave Voranus, come to water upon me,
and befoul me. Why should I mention every particular?
viz. in what manner, speaking alternately with Sagana, the
ghosts uttered dismal and piercing shrieks; and how by
stealth they laid in the earth a wolf's beard, with the teeth of
a spotted snake; and how great a blaze flamed forth from
the waxen image ? And how I was shocked at the voices and
actions of these two furies, a spectator however by no means
incapable of revenge? For from my cleft body of fig-tree
wood I uttered a loud noise with as great an explosion as a
burst bladder. But they ran into the city: and with ex-
ceeding laughter and diversion might you have seen Canidia's

The Satires — Book I 175

artificial teeth,, and Sagana's towering head of false hair
falling off,, and the herbs, and the enchanted bracelets from
her arms.

SATIRE IX

HE DESCRIBES HIS SUFFERINGS FROM THE LOQUACITY OF AN

IMPERTINENT FELLOW

I WAS accidentally going along the Via Sacra, meditating on
some trifle or other, as is my custom, and totally intent upon
it. A certain person, known to me by name only, runs up;
and, having seized my hand, " How do you do, my dearest
fellow ? ' " Tolerably well," say I, " as times go ; and I wish
you everything you can desire." WThen he still followed me;
" Would you anything? " said I to him. But, " You know
me," says he: "I am a man of learning." "Upon that
account," said I, " you will have more of my esteem."
Wanting sadly to get away from him, sometimes I walked on
apace, now and then I stopped, and whispered something to
my boy. When the sweat ran down to the bottom of my
ankles; 0, said I to myself, Bolanus, how happy were you in
a headpiece ! Meanwhile he kept prating on anything that
came uppermost, praised the streets, the city; and, when I
made him no answer; " You want terribly," said he, " to get
away; I perceived it long ago; but you effect nothing. I
shall still stick close to you ; I shall follow you hence : where
are you at present bound for? ' " There is no need for your
being carried so much about: I want to see a person, who is
unknown to you : he lives a great way off across the Tiber,
just by Caesar's gardens." " I have nothing to do, and I am
not lazy; I will attend you thither." I hang down my ears
like an ass of surly disposition, when a heavier load than
ordinary is put upon his back. He begins again: " If I am
tolerably acquainted with myself, you will not esteem Viscus
or Varius as a friend, more than me; for who can write more
verses, or in a shorter time than I ? Who can move his limbs
with softer grace [in the dance] ? And then I sing, so that
even Hermogenes may envy."

176 Horace

Here there was an opportunity of interrupting him.
" Have you a mother, [or any] relations that are interested
in your welfare? ' " Not one have I; I have buried them
all." " Happy they ! now I remain. Despatch me: for the
fatal moment is at hand., which an old Sabine sorceress,, having
shaken her divining urn, foretold when I was a boy; ' This
child, neither shall cruel poison, nor the hostile sword, nor
pleurisy, nor cough, nor the crippling gout destroy : a babbler
shall one day demolish him ; if he be wise, let him avoid talka-
tive people, as soon as he comes to man's estate.'

One-fourth of the day being now past, we came to Vesta's
temple; and, as good luck would have it, he was obliged to
appear to his recognisance; which unless he did, he must
have lost his cause. " If you love me," said he, " step in
here a little." " May I die ! if I be either able to stand it
out, or have any knowledge of the civil laws: and besides,
I am in a hurry, you know whither." ' I am in doubt what
I shall do," said he; "whether desert you or my cause."
" Me, I beg of you." " I will not do it," said he; and began
to take the lead of me. I (as it is difficult to contend with
one's master) follow him. " How stands it with Maecenas
and you ? ' Thus he begins his prate again. " He is one of
few intimates, and of a very wise way of thinking. No man
ever made use of opportunity with more cleverness. You
should have a powerful assistant, who could play an under-
part, if you were disposed to recommend this man; may I
perish, if you should not supplant all the rest ! ' ' We do
not live there in the manner you imagine; there is not a
house that is freer or more remote from evils of this nature.
It is never of any disservice to me, that any particular person
is wealthier or a better scholar than I am: every individual
has his proper place." " You tell me a marvellous thing,
scarcely credible." " But it is even so." " You the more
inflame my desires to be near his person." ' You need only
be inclined to it: such is your merit, you will accomplish it:
and he is capable of being won; and on that account the first
access to him he makes difficult." " I will not be wanting
to myself : I will corrupt his servants with presents ; if I am
excluded to-day, I will not desist; I will seek opportunities;
I will meet him in the public streets; I will wait upon him

The Satires — Book I 177

home. Life allows nothing to mortals without great labour."
While he was running on at this rate, lo! Fuscus Aristius
comes up, a dear friend of mine, and one who knew the fellow
well. We make a stop. " Whence come you? whither are
you going? " he asks and answers. I began to twitch him
[by the elbow],, and to take hold of his arms [that were
affectedly] passive, nodding and distorting my eyes, that he
might rescue me. Cruelly arch he laughs, and pretends not
to take the hint: anger galled my liver. " Certainly/' [said
I, " Fuscus,] you said that you wanted to communicate
something to me in private." "I remember it very well:
but will tell it you at a better opportunity: to-day is the
thirtieth Sabbath. Would you affront the circumcised Jews ?"
I reply, " I have no scruple [on that account]." " But I have :
I am something weaker, one of the multitude. You must
forgive me: I will speak with you on another occasion."
And has this sun arisen so disastrous upon me ! The wicked
rogue runs away, and leaves me under the knife. But by
luck his adversary met him: and, " Whither are you going,
you infamous fellow?' roars he with a loud voice: and,
" Do you witness the arrest? ' I assent. He hurries him
into court: there is great clamour on both sides, a mob from
all parts. Thus Apollo preserved me.

SATIRE X

HE SUPPORTS THE JUDGMENT WHICH HE HAD BEFORE GIVEN
OF LUCILIUS, AND INTERSPERSES SOME EXCELLENT PRE-
CEPTS FOR THE WRITING OF SATIRE

To be sure I did say, that the verses of Lucilius did not run
smoothly. Who is so foolish an admirer of Lucilius that he
would not own this ? But the same writer is applauded in
the same satire, on account of his having lashed the town
with great humour. Nevertheless granting him this, I will
not therefore give up the other [considerations] ; for at that
rate I might even admire the farces of Laberius, as fine poems.
Hence, it is by no means sufficient to make an auditor grin

i78

Horace

with laughter: and yet there is some degree of merit even in
this. There is need of conciseness that the sentence may run,
and not embarrass itself with verbiage, that overloads the
sated ear; and sometimes a grave, frequently a jocose style
is necessary, supporting the character one while of the orator,
and [at another] of the poet, now and then that of a graceful
rallier, that curbs the force of his pleasantry and weakens it
on purpose. For ridicule often decides matters of importance
more effectually, and in a better manner, than severity.
Those poets by whom the ancient comedy was written, stood
upon this [foundation], and in this are they worthy of imita-
tion: whom neither the smooth-faced Hermogenes ever read,
nor that baboon who is skilled in nothing but singing [the
wanton compositions of] Calvus and Catullus.

But [Lucilius, say they,] did a great thing, when he inter-
mixed Greek words with Latin. 0 late-learned dunces !
What? do you think that arduous and admirable, which was
done by Pitholeo the Rhodian ? But [still they cry] the style
elegantly composed of both tongues is the more pleasant,
as if Falernian wine is mixed with Chian. When you make
verses, I ask you this question; were you to undertake the
difficult cause of the accused Petillius, would you, (for
instance,) forgetful of your country and your father, while
Pedius, Poplicola, and Corvinus sweat through their causes
in Latin, choose to intermix words borrowed from abroad, like
the double-tongued Canusinian. And as for myself, who was
born on this side the water, when I was about making Greek
verses; Romulus appearing to me after midnight, when
dreams are true, forbade me in words to this effect; " You
could not be guilty of more madness by carrying timber into
a wood than by desiring to throng in among the great crowds
of Grecian writers."

While bombastical Alpinus murders Memnon, and while
he deforms the muddy source of the Rhine, I amuse myself
with these satires ; which can neither be recited in the temple
[of Apollo], as contesting for the prize when Tarpa presides
as judge, nor can have a run over and over again represented
in the theatres. You, O Fundanius, of all men breathing,
are the most capable of prattling tales in a comic vein, how
an artful courtesan and a Davus impose upon an old Chremes :

The Satires — Book I 179

Pollio sings the actions of kings in iambic measure; the
sublime Varius composes the manly epic, in a manner that no
one can equal : to Virgil the Muses, delighting in rural scenes,
have granted the delicate and the elegant. It was this kind
[of satiric writing], the Aticinian Varro and some others
having attempted it without success, in which I may have
some slight merit, inferior to the inventor: nor would I pre-
sume to pull off the [laurel] crown, placed upon his brow with
great applause.

But I said that he flowed muddily, frequently indeed bear-
ing along more things which ought to be taken away than
left. Be it so ; do you, who are a scholar, find no fault with
anything in mighty Homer, I pray? Does the facetious
Lucilius make no alterations in the tragedies of Accius?
Does not he ridicule many of Ennius' verses, which are too
light for the gravity [of the subject]? When he speaks of
himself by no means as superior to what he blames. What
should hinder me likewise, while I am reading the works of
Lucilius, from inquiring whether it be his [genius], or the
difficult nature of his subject, that will not suffer his verses
to be more finished, and to run more smoothly than if some
one, thinking it sufficient to conclude a something of six feet,
be fond of writing two hundred verses before he eats, and as
many after supper? Such was the genius of the Tuscan
Cassius, more impetuous than a rapid river; who, as it is
reported, was burned [at the funeral pile] with his own books
and papers. Let it be allowed, I say, that Lucilius was a
humorous and polite writer; that he was also more correct
than [Ennius], the author of a kind of poetry [not yet] well
cultivated, nor attempted by the Greeks, and [more correct
likewise] than the tribe of our old poets : but yet he, if he had
been brought down by the fates to this age of ours, would have
retrenched a great deal from his writings: he would have
pruned off everything that transgressed the limits of per-
fection; and, in the composition of verses, would often have
scratched his head, and bit his nails to the quick.

You that intend to write what is worthy to be read more
than once, blot frequently: and take no pains to make the
multitude admire you, content with a few [judicious] readers.
What, would you be such a fool, as to be ambitious that

180 Horace

your verses should be taught in petty schools ? That is not
my case. It is enough for me, that the knight [Maecenas]
applauds : as the courageous actress Arbuscula expressed her-
self, in contempt of the rest of the audience, when she was
hissed [by the populace]. What, shall that insect Pantilius
have any effect upon me ? Or can it vex me that Demetrius
carps at me behind my back? or because the trifler Fannius,
that hanger-on to Hermogenes Tigellius, attempts to hurt
me? May Plotius and Varius, Maecenas and Virgil, Valgius
and Octavius approve these satires, and the excellent Fuscus
likewise; and I could wish that both the Visci would join in
their commendations: ambition apart, I may mention you,

0 Pollio: you also, Messala, together with your brother;
and at the same time, you, Bibulus and Servius ; and along
with these you, candid Furnius; many others whom, though
men of learning and my friends, I purposely omit — to whom

1 could wish these satires, such as they are, may give satis-
faction ; and I should be chagrined, if they pleased in a degree
below my expectation. You, Demetrius, and you, Tigellius,
I bid lament among the forms of your female pupils.

Go, boy, and instantly annex this satire to the end of my
book.

THE SATIRES-BOOK II

SATIRE I

HE SUPPOSES HIMSELF TO CONSULT WITH TREBATIUS, WHETHER
HE SHOULD DESIST FROM WRITING SATIRES OR NOT

THERE are some persons, to whom I seem too severe in [the
writing of] satire, and to carry it beyond proper bounds:
another set are of opinion that all I have written is nerveless,
and that a thousand verses like mine may be spun out in a
day. Trebatius, give me your advice, what I shall do. Be
quiet. I should not make, you say, verses at all. I do say
so. May I be hanged, if that would not be best; but I can-
not sleep. Let those, who want sound sleep, anointed swim
thrice across the Tiber; and have their clay well moistened
with wine over-night. Or, if such a great love of scribbling
hurries you on, venture to celebrate the achievements of the
invincible Caesar, certain of bearing off ample rewards for
your pains.

Desirous I am, my good father, [to do this,] but my strength
fails me : nor can any one describe the troops bristled with
spears, nor the Gauls dying on their shivered darts, nor the
wounded Parthian falling from his horse. Nevertheless you
may describe him just and brave, as the wise Lucilius did
Scipio. I will not be wanting to myself, when an opportunity
presents itself: no verses of Horace's, unless well-timed, will
gain the attention of Caesar; whom, [like a generous steed,]
if you stroke awkwardly, he will kick back upon you, being
at all quarters on his guard. How much better would this
be than to wound with severe satire Pantolabus the buffoon,
and the rake Nomentanus! when everybody is afraid for
himself, [lest he should be the next,] and hates you, though
he is not meddled with. What shall I do ? Milonius falls a
dancing the moment he becomes light-headed and warm, and
the candles appear multiplied. Castor delights in horseman-

181

1 82 Horace

ship; and he, who sprang from the same egg, in boxing. As
many thousands of people [as there are in the world], so
many different inclinations are there. It delights me to com-
bine words in metre, after the manner of Lucilius, a better
man than both of us. He long ago communicated his secrets
to his books, as to faithful friends: never having recourse
elsewhere, whether things went well or ill with him: whence
it happens, that the whole life of this old [poet] is as open to
the view, as if it had been painted on a votive tablet. His
example I follow, though in doubt whether I am a Lucanian
or an Apulian; for the Venusinian farmers plough upon the
boundaries of both countries, who (as the ancient tradition
has it) were sent, on the expulsion of the Samnites, for this
purpose, that the enemy might not make incursions on the
Romans, through a vacant [unguarded frontier] : or lest the
Apulian nation, or the fierce Lucanian, should make an
invasion. But this pen of mine shall not wilfully attack any
man breathing, and shall defend me like a sword that is
sheathed in the scabbard: which why should I attempt to
draw, [while I am] safe from hostile villains? 0 Jupiter,
father and sovereign, may my weapon laid aside wear away
with rust, and may no one injure me, who am desirous of
peace? But that man who shall provoke me (I give notice,
that it is better not to touch me) shall weep [his folly], and
as a notorious character shall be sung through all the streets
of Rome.

Cervius, when he is offended, threatens one with the laws
and the [judiciary] urn; Canidia, Albutius' poison to those
with whom she is at enmity; Turius [threatens] great
damages, if you contest anything while he is judge. How
every animal terrifies those whom he suspects, with that in
which he is most powerful, and how strong natural instinct
commands this, thus infer with me. — The wolf attacks with
his teeth, the bull with his horns. From what principle is
this, if not a suggestion from within ? Intrust that debauchee
Scaeva with the custody of his ancient mother; his pious
hand will commit no outrage. A wonder indeed ! just as the
wolf does not attack any one with his hoof, nor the bull with
his teeth; but the deadly hemlock in the poisoned honey will
take off the old dame.

The Satires — Book II 183

That I may not be tedious, whether a placid old age awaits
me, or whether death now hovers about me with his sable
wings; rich or poor, at Rome or (if fortune should so order
it) an exile abroad ; whatever be the complexion of my life, I
will write. 0 my child, I fear you cannot be long-lived ; and
that some creature of the great ones will strike you with the
cold of death. What ? when Lucilius had the courage to be
the first in composing verses after this manner, and to pull
off that mask, by means of which each man strutted in public
view with a fair outside, though foul within; was Laelius,
and he who derived a well-deserved title from the destruction
of Carthage, offended at his wit, or were they hurt at Metellus
being lashed, or Lupus covered over with his lampoons?
But he took to task the heads of the people, and the people
themselves, class by class; in short, he spared none but
virtue and her friends. Yet, when the valorous Scipio, and
the mild philosophical Laelius, had withdrawn themselves
from the crowd and the public scene, they used to divert
themselves with him, and joke in a free manner, while a few
vegetables were boiled [for supper]. Of whatever rank I am,
though below the estate and wit of Lucilius, yet envy must
be obliged to own that I have lived well with great men ; and,
wanting to fasten her tooth upon some weak part, will strike
it against the solid : unless you, learned Trebatius, disapprove
of anything [I have said]. For my part, I cannot make any
objection to this. But however, that forewarned you may
be upon your guard, lest an ignorance of our sacred laws
should bring you into trouble, [be sure of this :] if any person
shall make scandalous verses against a particular man, an
action lies, and a sentence. Granted, if they are scandalous :
but if a man composes good ones, and is praised by such a
judge as Caesar? If a man barks only at him who deserves
his invectives, while he himself is unblameable? The pro-
cess will be cancelled with laughter: and you, being dismissed,
may depart in peace.

184 Horace

SATIRE II

ON FRUGALITY

WHAT and how great is the virtue to live on a little, (this is
no doctrine of mine, but what Ofellus the peasant, a philo-
sopher without rules and of a home-spun wit, taught me.)
learn, my good friends, not among dishes and splendid tables;
when the eye is dazzled with the vain glare, and the mind,
intent upon false appearances, refuses [to admit] better things ;
but here, before dinner, discuss this point with me. Why so ?
I will inform you, if I can. Every corrupted judge examines
badly the truth. After hunting the hare, or being wearied
by an unruly horse, or (if the Roman exercise fatigues you,
accustomed to act the Greek) whether the swift ball, while
eagerness softens and prevents your perceiving the severity
of the game, or quoits (smite the yielding air with the quoit)
when exercise has worked off squeamishness, dry and hungry,
[then let me see you] despise mean viands; and don't drink
anything but Hymettian honey qualified with Falernian
wine. Your butler is abroad, and the tempestuous sea pre-
serves the fish by its wintry storms: bread and salt will
sufficiently appease an importunate stomach. Whence do
you think this happens ? and how is it obtained ? The con-
summate pleasure is not in the costly flavour, but in yourself.
Do you seek for sauce by sweating. Neither oysters, nor scar,
nor the far-fetched lagois, can give any pleasure to one
bloated and pale through intemperance. Nevertheless, if a
peacock were served up, I should hardly be able to prevent
your gratifying the palate with that, rather than a pullet,
sirrce you are prejudiced by the vanities of things; because
the scarce bird is bought with gold, and displays a fine sight
with its painted tail: as if that were anything to the purpose.
What, do you eat that plumage, which you extol ? or has the
bird the same beauty when dressed? Since however there
is no difference in the meat, in one preferably to the other; it
is manifest that you are imposed upon by the disparity of
their appearances. Be it so.

The Satires — Book II 185

By what gift are you able to distinguish, whether this
lupus, that now opens its jaws before us, was taken in the
Tiber, or in the sea ? whether it was tossed between the bridges,
or at the mouth of the Tuscan river? Fool, you praise a
mullet that weighs three pounds, which you are obliged to
cut into small pieces. Outward appearances lead you, I see.
To what intent then do you contemn large lupuses ? Because
truly these are by nature bulky, and those very light. A
hungry stomach seldom loathes common victuals. 0 that
I could see a swingeing mullet extended on a swingeing dish !
cries that gullet, which is fit for the voracious harpies them-
selves. But 0 [say I] ye southern blasts, be present to taint
the delicacies of these [gluttons] : though the boar and turbot
newly taken are rank, when surfeiting abundance provokes
the sick stomach; and when the sated guttler prefers turnips
and sharp elecampane. However, all [appearance of]
poverty is not quite banished from the banquets of our nobles ;
for there is, even at this day, a place for paltry eggs and black
olives. And it was not long ago, since the table of Gallonius
the auctioneer was rendered infamous, by having a sturgeon
[served up whole upon it]. What? was the sea at that time
less nutritive of turbots? The turbot was secure and the
stork unmolested in her nest; till the praetorian [Sempronius],
the inventor, first taught you [to eat them]. Therefore, if
any one were to give it out that roasted cormorants are
delicious, the Roman youth, teachable in depravity, would
acquiesce in it.

In the judgment of Ofellus, a sordid way of living will differ
widely from frugal simplicity. For it is to no purpose for
you to shun that vice [of luxury]; if you perversely fly to
the contrary extreme. Avidienus, to whom the nickname of
Dog is applied with propriety, eats olives of five years old,
and wild cornels, and cannot bear to rack off his wine unless
it be turned sour, and the smell of his oil you cannot endure :
which (though clothed in white he celebrates the wedding
festival, his birth-day, or any other festal days) he pours out
himself by little and little from a horn cruet, that holds two
pounds, upon his cabbage, [but at the same time] is lavish
enough of his old vinegar.

What manner of living therefore shall the wise man put in

1 86 Horace

practice, and which of these examples shall he copy ? On one
side the wolf presses on, and the dog on the other, as the say-
ing is. A person will be accounted decent, if he offends not
by sordidness, and is not despicable through either extreme
of conduct. Such a man will not, after the example of old
Albutius, be savage whilst he assigns to his servants their
respective offices; nor, like simple Naevius, will he offer
greasy water to his company : for this too is a great fault.

Now learn what and how great benefits a temperate diet
will bring along with it. In the first place, you will enjoy
good health; for you may believe how detrimental a diversity
of things is to any man, when you recollect that sort of food,
which by its simplicity sat so well upon your stomach some
time ago. But, when you have once mixed boiled and roast
together, thrushes and shell-fish; the sweet juices will turn
into bile, and the thick phlegm will bring a jarring upon the
stomach. Do not you see how pale each guest rises from a
perplexing variety of dishes at an entertainment. Beside
this, the body, overloaded with the debauch of yesterday,
depresses the mind along with it, and dashes to the earth that
portion of the divine spirit. Another man, as soon as he
has taken a quick repast, and rendered up his limbs to repose,
rises vigorous to the duties of his calling. However, he may
sometimes have recourse to better cheer; whether the re-
turning year shall bring on a festival, or if he have a mind
to refresh his impaired body ; and when years shall approach,
and feeble age require to be used more tenderly. But as for
you, if a troublesome habit of body, or creeping old age,
should come upon you, what addition can be made to that
soft indulgence, which you, now in youth and in health,
anticipate ?

Our ancestors praised a boar \vhen it was stale: not
because they had no noses; but with this view, I suppose,
that a visitor coming later than ordinary [might partake of
it], though a little musty, rather than the voracious master
should devour it all himself while sweet. I wish that the
primitive earth had produced me among such heroes as these.

Have you any regard for reputation, which affects the
human ear more agreeably than music? Great turbots and
dishes bring great disgrace along with them, together with

The Satires— Book II 187

expense. Add to this, that your relations and neighbours
will be exasperated at you, while you will be at enmity with
yourself and desirous of death in vain, since you will not in
your poverty have three farthings left to purchase a rope
withal. Trausius, you say, may with justice be called to
account in such language as this; but I possess an ample
revenue, and wealth sufficient for three potentates. Why
then have you no better method of expending your super-
fluities? Why is any man, undeserving [of distressed cir-
cumstances], in want, while you abound ? How comes it tc
pass that the ancient temples of the gods are falling to ruin ?
Why do not you, wretch that you are, bestow something on
your dear country, out of so vast a hoard? What, will
matters always go well with you alone ? O thou that here-
after shalt be the great derision of thine enemies ; which of the
two shall depend upon himself in exigencies with most cer-
tainty? He who has used his mind and high-swollen body
to redundancies; or he who, contented with a little and
provident for the future, like a wise man in time of peace,
shall make the necessary preparations for war ?

That you may the more readily give credit to these things :
I myself, when a little boy, took notice that this Ofellus did
not use his unencumbered estate more profusely, than he does
now it is reduced. You may see the sturdy husbandman
labouring for hire in the land [once his own, but now] assigned
[to others], with his cattle and children, talking to this effect;
I never ventured to eat anything on a work-day except pot-
herbs, with a hock of smoke-dried bacon. And when a friend
came to visit me after a long absence, or a neighbour, an
acceptable guest to me resting from work on account of the
rain, we lived well ; not on fishes fetched from the city, but on
a pullet and a kid; then a dried grape, and a nut, with a
large fig, set off our second course. After this, it was our
diversion to have no other regulation in our cups, save that
against drinking to excess: then Ceres worshipped [with a
libation], that the corn might arise in lofty stems, smoothed
with wine the melancholy of the contracted brow. Let
fortune rage, and stir up new tumults : what can she do more
to impair my estate ? How much more savingly have either
I lived, or how much less neatly have you gone, my children,

1 88 Horace

since this new possessor came ? For nature has appointed to
be lord of this earthly property, neither him, nor me, nor any
one. He drove us out: either iniquity or ignorance in the
quirks of the law shall [do the same by] him; certainly in the
end his long-lived heir shall expel him. Now this field under
the denomination of Umbrenus', lately it was Ofellus', the
perpetual property of no man; for it turns to my use one
while, and by and by to that of another. Wherefore, live
undaunted; and oppose gallant breasts against the strokes
of adversity.

SATIRE III

DAMASIPPUS, IN A CONVERSATION WITH HORACE, PROVES THIS
PARADOX OF THE STOIC PHILOSOPHY, THAT MOST MEN
ARE ACTUALLY MAD

You write so seldom, as not to call for parchment lour times
in the year, busied in reforming your writings, yet are you
angry with yourself, that indulging in wine and sleep you
produce nothing worthy to be the subject of conversation.
What will be the consequence ? But you took refuge here,
it seems, at the very celebration of the Saturnalia, out
of sobriety. Dictate therefore something worthy of your
promises: begin. There is nothing. The pens are found
fault with to no purpose, and the harmless wall, which must
have been built under the displeasure of gods and poets,
suffers [to no end]. But you had the look of one that
threatened many and excellent things, when once your villa
had received you, free from employment, under its warm
roof. To what purpose was it to stow Plato upon Menander?
Eupolis, Archilochus ? For what end did you bring abroad
such companions ? What ? are you setting about appeasing
envy by deserting virtue? Wretch, you will be despised.
That guilty siren, sloth, must be avoided; or whatever
acquisitions you have made in the better part of your life,
must with equanimity be given up. May the gods and
goddesses, 0 Damasippus, present you with a barber for
your sound advice ! But by what means did you get so well

The Satires — Book II 189

acquainted with me ? Since all my fortunes were dissipated
at the middle of the exchange, detached from all business of
my own,, I mind that of other people. For formerly I used
to take a delight in inquiring, in what vase the crafty Sisyphus
might have washed his feet; what was carved in an unwork-
manlike manner, and what more roughly cast than it ought
to be; being a connoisseur, I offered a hundred thousand
sesterces for such a statue; I was the only man who knew
how to purchase gardens and fine seats to the best advantage :
whence the crowded ways gave me the surname of Mercurial.
I know it well; and am amazed at your being cured of that
disorder. Why a new disorder expelled the old one in a
marvellous manner; as it is accustomed to do, when the pain
of the afflicted side, or the head, is turned upon the stomach :
as it is with a man in a lethargy, when he turns boxer, and
attacks his physician. As long as you do nothing like this,
be it even as you please. 0 my good friend, do not deceive
yourself; you likewise are mad, and it is almost " fools all,"
if what Stertinius insists upon has any truth in it; from
whom, being of a teachable disposition, I derived these
admirable precepts, at the very time \vhen, having given me
consolation, he ordered me to cultivate a philosophical beard,
and to return cheerfully from the Fabrician bridge. For
when, my affairs being desperate, I had a mind to throw
myself into the river, having covered my head [for that pur-
pose], he fortunately was at my elbow; and [addressed me tc
this effect]: Take care, how you do anything unworthy oj
yourself; a false shame, says he, afflicts you, who dread to
be esteemed a madman among madmen. For in the first
place I will inquire, what it is to be mad: and, if this dis-
temper be in you exclusively, I will not add a single word
to prevent you from dying bravely.

The school and sect of Chrysippus deem every man mad,
whom vicious folly or the ignorance of truth drives blindly
forward. This definition takes in whole nations, this even
great kings, the wise man [alone] excepted. Now learn, why
all those who have fixed the name of madman upon you, are
as senseless as yourself. As in the woods, where a mistake
makes people wander about from the proper path ; one goes
out of the way to the right, another to the left; there is the

190 Horace

same blunder on both sides, only the illusion is in different
directions : in this manner imagine yourself mad ; so that he,
who derides you, hangs his tail not one jot wiser than your-
self. There is one species of folly that dreads things not in
the least formidable ; insomuch that it will complain of fires,
and rocks, and rivers opposing it in the open plain; there is
another different from this, but not a whit more approaching
to wisdom, that runs headlong through the midst of flames
and floods. Let the loving mother, the virtuous sister, the
father, the wife, together with all the relations [of a man
possessed with this latter folly], cry out; " Here is a deep
ditch; here is a prodigious rock; take care of yourself: " he
would give no more attention, than did the drunken Fufius
some time ago, when he over-slept the character of Ilione,
twelve hundred Catieni at the same time roaring out, 0
mother, I call you to my aid. I will demonstrate to you, that
the generality of all mankind are mad in the commission ol
some folly similiar to this.

Damasippus is mad for purchasing antique statues : but is
Damasippus' creditor in his senses ? Well, suppose I should
say to you; receive this, which you can never repay: will
you be a madman, if you receive it; or would you be more
absurd for rejecting a booty, which propitious Mercury offers ?
Take bond, like the banker Nerius, for ten thousand sesterces :
it will not signify: add the forms of Cicuta, so versed in the
knotty points of law : add a thousand obligations : yet this
wicked Proteus will evade all these ties. When you shall
drag him to justice, laughing as if his cheeks were none of his
own; he will be transformed into a boar, sometimes into a
bird, sometimes into a stone, and when he pleases into a tree.
If to conduct one's affairs badly be the part of a madman ; and
the reverse, that of a man in his senses ; the brain of Perillius,
(believe me,) who orders you [that sum of money], which you
can never repay, is much more unsound [than yours].

Whoever grows pale with evil ambition, or the love of
money: whoever is heated with luxury, or gloomy supersti-
tion, or any other disease of the mind, I command him to
adjust his garment and attend: hither, all of ye, come near
me in order, while I convince you that you are mad.

By far the largest portion of hellebore is to be administered

The Satires — Book II 191

to the covetous: I know not, whether reason does not con-
sign all Anticyra to their use. The heirs of Staberius en-
graved the sum [which he left them] upon his tomb: unless
they had acted in this manner, they were under an obligation
to exhibit a hundred pair of gladiators to the people, beside
an entertainment according to the direction of Arrius; and
as much corn as is cut in Africa. Whether I have willed this
rightly or wrongly, it was my will; be not severe against me,
[cries the testator]. I imagine the provident mind of Staberius
foresaw this. What then did he mean, when he appointed by
will that his heirs should engrave the sum of their patrimony
upon his tomb-stone? As long as he lived, he deemed
poverty a great vice, and nothing did he more industriously
avoid : insomuch that, had he died less rich by one farthing,
the more iniquitous would he have appeared to himself. For
everything, virtue, fame, glory, divine and human affairs,
are subservient to the attraction of riches; which whoever
shall have accumulated, shall be illustrious, brave, just-
What, wise too? Ay, and a king, and whatever else he
pleases. This he was in hopes would greatly redound to his
praise, as if it had been an acquisition of his virtue. In what
respect did the Grecian Aristippus act like this ; who ordered
his slaves to throw away his gold in the midst of Libya;
because, encumbered with the burden, they travelled too
slowly? Which is the greater madman of these two? An
example is nothing to the purpose, that decides one contro-
versy by creating another. If any person were to buy lyres,
and (when he had bought them) to stow them in one place,
though neither addicted to the lyre nor to any one muse
whatsoever: if a man were [to buy] paring knives and lasts
and were no shoemaker; sails fit for navigation, and were
averse to merchandising; he would everywhere deservedly
be styled delirious and out of his senses. How does he differ
from these, who hoards up cash and gold, [and] knows not
how to use them when accumulated, and is afraid to touch
them as if they were consecrated? If any person before a
great heap of corn should keep perpetual watch with a long
club, and, though the owner of it, and hungry, should not
dare to take a single grain from it; and should rather feed
upon bitter leaves : if, while a thousand hogsheads of Chian,

192 Horace

or old Falernian, is stored up within, (nay, that is nothing —
three hundred thousand,) he drink nothing, but what is mere
sharp vinegar: again — if, wanting but one year of eighty, he
should lie upon straw, who has bed-clothes rotting in his
chest, the food of worms and moths; he would seem mad,
belike, but to few persons : because the greatest part of man-
kind labours under the same malady.

Thou dotard, hateful to the gods, dost thou guard [these
possessions], for fear of wanting thyself: to the end that thy
son, or even the freedman thy heir, should guzzle it all up?
For how little will each day deduct from your capital, if you
begin to pour better oil upon your greens and your head, filthy
with scurf not combed out? If anything be a sufficiency,
wherefore are you guilty of perjury, [wherefore] do you rob,
and plunder from all quarters ? Are you in your senses ? If
you were to begin to pelt the populace with stones, and the
slaves, which you purchased with your money ; all the very
boys and girls will cry out that you are a madman. When
you despatch your wife with a rope, and your mother with
poison, are you right in your head ? Why not ? You neither
did this at Argos, nor slew your mother with the sword as
the mad Orestes did. What, do you imagine that he ran mad
after he had murdered his parent ; and that he was not driven
mad by the wicked Furies, before he warmed his sharp steel
in his mother's throat? Nay, from the time that Orestes is
deemed to have been of a dangerous disposition, he did
nothing in fact that you can blame : he did not dare to offer
violence with his sword to Pylades, nor to his sister Electra;
he only gave ill language to both of them, by calling her a
Fury, and him some other [opprobrious name], which his
violent choler suggested.

Opimius, poor amid silver and gold hoarded up within, who
used to drink out of Campanian ware Veientine wine on
holidays, and mere dregs on common days, was some time
ago taken with a prodigious lethargy ; insomuch that his heir
was already scouring about his coffers and keys, in joy and
triumph. His physician, a man of much despatch and
fidelity, raises him in this manner: he orders a table to be
brought, and the bags of money to be poured out, and several
persons to approach in order to count it: by this method he

The Satires — Book II 193

sets the man upon his legs again. And at the same time he
addresses him to this effect. Unless you guard your money
your ravenous heir will even now carry off these [treasures]
of yours. What, while I am alive? That you may live,
therefore, awake; do this. What would you have me do?
Why your blood will fail you that are so much reduced, unless
food and some great restorative be administered to your
decaying stomach. Do you hesitate? come on; take this
ptisan made of rice. How much did it cost? A trifle.
How much then? Eight asses. Alas! what does it matter,
whether I die of a disease, or by theft and rapine ?

Who then is sound ? He, who is not a fool. What is the
covetous man? Both a fool and a madman. WThat — if a
man be not covetous, is he immediately [to be deemed]
sound? By no means. Why so, Stoic? I will tell you.
Such a patient (suppose Craterus [the physician] said this)
is not sick at the heart. Is he therefore well, and shall he get
up? No, he will forbid that; because his side or his reins
are harassed with an acute disease. [In like manner], such
a man is not perjured, nor sordid; let him then sacrifice a
hog to his propitious household gods. But he is ambitious
and assuming. Let him make a voyage, [then,] to Anticyra.
For what is the difference, whether you fling whatever you
have into a gulf, or make no use of your acquisitions ?

Servius Oppidius, rich in the possession of an ancient
estate, is reported when dying to have divided two farms at
Canusium between his two sons, and to have addressed the
boys, called to his bed-side, [in the following manner] : When
I saw you, Aulus, carry your playthings and nuts carelessly in
your bosom, [and] to give them and game them away; you,
Tiberius, count them, and anxious hide them in holes ; I was
afraid lest a madness of a different nature should possess you :
lest you, [Aulus,] should follow the example of Nomentanus,
you, [Tiberius,] that of Cicuta. Wherefore each of you,
entreated by our household gods, do you (Aulus) take care
lest you lessen; you (Tiberius) lest you make that greater,
which your father thinks and the purposes of nature determine
to be sufficient. Further, lest glory should entice you, I will
bind each of you by an oath: whichever of you shall be an
aedile or a praetor, let him be excommunicated and accursed.
115*5

194 Horace

Would you destroy your effects in [largesses of] peas, beans,
and lupines, that you may stalk in the circus at large, or
stand in a statue of brass, O madman, stripped of your
paternal estate, stripped of your money? To the end, for-
sooth, that you may gain those applauses, which Agrippa
gains, like a cunning fox imitating a generous lion ?

0 Agamemnon, why do you prohibit any one from burying
Ajax ? I am a king. I, a plebeian, make no further inquiry.
And I command a just thing: but, if I seem unjust to any
one, I permit you to speak your sentiments with impunity.
Greatest of kings, may the gods grant that, after the taking
of Troy, you may conduct your fleet safe home : may I then
have the liberty to ask questions, and reply in my turn?
Ask. Why does Ajax, the second hero after Achilles, rot
[above ground], so often renowned for having saved the
Grecians; that Priam and Priam's people may exult in his
being unburied, by whose means so many youths have been
deprived of their country's rites of sepulture? In his mad-
ness he killed a thousand sheep, crying out that he was
destroying the famous Ulysses and Menelaus, together with
me. When you at Aulis substituted your sweet daughter in
the place of a heifer before the altar, and, 0 impious one,
sprinkled her head with the salt cake; did you preserve
soundness of mind ? Why do you ask ? What then did the
mad Ajax do, when he slew the flock with his sword? He
abstained from any violence to his wife and child, though he
had imprecated many curses on the sons of Atreus : he neither
hurt Teucer, nor even Ulysses himself. But I, out of
prudence, appeased the gods with blood, that I might loose
the ships detained on an adverse shore. Yes, madman!
with your own blood. With my own [indeed], but I was not
mad. Whoever shall form images foreign from reality, and
confused in the tumult of impiety, will always be reckoned
disturbed in mind: and it will not matter, whether he go
wrong through folly or through rage. Is Ajax delirious,
while he kills the harmless lambs? Are you right in your
head, when you wilfully commit a crime for empty titles?
And is your heart pure, while it is swollen with the vice ? If
any person should take a delight to carry about with him in
his sedan a pretty lambkin; and should provide clothes,

The Satires — Book II 195

should provide maids and gold for it, as for a daughter;
should call it Rufa and Rufilla, and should destine it a wife
for some stout husband ; the praetor would take power from
him being interdicted, and the management of him would
devolve to his relations, that were in their senses. What, if a
man devote his daughter instead of a dumb lambkin, is he
right of mind ? Never say it. Therefore, wherever there is
a foolish depravity, there will be the height of madness. He
who is wicked, will be frantic too: Bellona, who delights in
bloodshed, has thundered about him, whom precarious fame
has captivated.

Now, come on, arraign with me luxury and Nomentanus:
for reason will evince that foolish spendthrifts are mad. This
fellow, as soon as he received a thousand talents of patrimony,
issues an order that the fishmonger, the fruiterer, the poulterer,
the perfumer, and the impious gang of the Tuscan alley,
sausage-maker, and buffoons, the whole shambles, together
with [all] Velabrum, should come to his house in the morning.
What was the consequence? They came in crowds. The
pander makes a speech: "Whatever I, or whatever each
of these has at home, believe it to be yours: and give your
order for it either directly, or to-morrow." Hear what reply
the considerate youth made. " You sleep booted in Lucanian
snow, that I may feast on a boar: you sweep the wintry seas
for fish: I am indolent, and unworthy to possess so much.
Away with it: do you take for your share ten hundred thou-
sand sesterces; you as much; you thrice the sum, from
whose house your spouse runs, when called for, at midnight.'1
The son of ^Esopus, [the actor,] (that he might, forsooth,
swallow a million of sesterces at a draught,) dissolved in
vinegar a precious pearl, which he had taken from the ear
of Metella: how much wiser was he [in doing this], than if
he had thrown the same into a rapid river, or the common
sewer? The progeny of Quintius Arrius, an illustrious pair
of brothers, twins in wickedness and trifling and the love
of depravity, used to dine upon nightingales bought at a
vast expense: to whom do these belong? Are they in their
senses ? Are they to be marked with chalk, or with charcoal ?

If an [aged person] with a long beard should take a delight
to build baby-houses, to yoke mice to a go-cart, to play at

196

Horace

odd and even, to ride upon a long cane., madness must be
his motive. If reason shall evince, that to be in love is a
more childish thing than these; and that there is no differ-
ence whether you play the same games in the dust as when
three years old, or whine in anxiety for the love of a harlot:
I beg to know,, if you will act as the reformed Polemon did
of old? Will you lay aside those ensigns of your disease,
your rollers, your mantle, your mufflers ; as he in his cups is
said to have privately torn the chaplet from his neck, after
he was corrected by the speech of his fasting master? When
you offer apples to an angry boy, he refuses them : here, take
them, you little dog; he denies you: if you don't give them,
he wants them. In what does an excluded lover differ [from
such a boy] ; when he argues with himself whether he should
go or not to that very place whither he was returning with-
out being sent for, and cleaves to the hated doors? " What,
shall I not go to her now, when she invites me of her own
accord ? or shall I rather think of putting an end to my pains ?
She has excluded me; she recalls me: shall I return? No,
not if she would implore me." Observe the servant, not a
little wiser: " 0 master, that which has neither moderation
nor conduct, cannot be guided by reason or method. In love
these evils are inherent; war [one while], then peace again.
If any one should endeavour to ascertain these things, that are
various as the weather, and fluctuating by blind chance; he
will make no more of it, than if he should set about raving
by right reason and rule." What — when, picking the pippins
from the Picenian apples, you rejoice if haply you have hit the
vaulted roof; are you yourself ? What — when you strike out
faltering accents from your antiquated palate, how much
wiser are you than [a child] that builds little houses? To
the folly [of love] add bloodshed, and stir the fire with a
sword. I ask you, when Marius lately, after he had stabbed
Hellas, threw himself down a precipice, was he raving mad ?
Or will you absolve the man from the imputation of a dis-
turbed mind, and condemn him for the crime, according to
your custom, imposing on things names that have an affinity
in signification?

There was a certain freedman, wrho, an old man. ran about
the streets in a morning fasting, with his hands washed, and

The Satires — Book II 197

prayed thus: " Snatch me alone from death/' (adding some
solemn vow,) " me alone, for it is an easy matter for the
gods: " this man was sound in both his ears and eyes; but
his master, when he sold him, would except his understand-
ing, unless he were fond of law-suits. This crowd too
Chrysippus places in the fruitful family of Menenius.

O Jupiter, who givest and takest away great afflictions,
(cries the mother of a boy, now lying sick a-bed for five
months,) if this cold quartan ague should leave the child, in
the morning of that day on which you enjoin a fast, he shall
stand naked in the Tiber. Should chance or the physician
relieve the patient from his imminent danger, the infatuated
mother will destroy [the boy] placed on the cold bank, and
will bring back the fever. With what disorder of the mind
is she stricken? Why, with a superstitious fear of the gods.

These arms Stertinius, the eighth of the wise men, gave to
me, as to a friend, that for the future I might not be roughly
accosted without avenging myself. Whosoever shall call me
madman, shall hear as much from me [in return] ; and shall
learn to look back upon the bag that hangs behind him.

O Stoic, so may you, after your damage, sell all your mer-
chandise the better: what folly (for, [it seems.] there are
more kinds than one) do you think I am infatuated with?
For to myself I seem sound. What — when mad Agave
carries the amputated head of her unhappy son, does she
then seem mad to herself? I allow myself a fool (let me
yield to the truth) and a madman likewise : only declare this,
with what distemper of mind you think me afflicted. Hear,
then : in the first place you build ; that is, though from top to
bottom you are but of the two-foot size, you imitate the tall :
and you, the same person, laugh at the spirit and strut of
Turbo in armour, too great for his [little] body : how are you
less ridiculous than him ? What — is it fitting that, in every-
thing Maecenas does, you, who are so very much unlike him
and so much his inferior, should vie with him? The young
ones of a frog being in her absence crushed by the foot of a calf,
when one of them had made his escape, he told his mother
what a huge beast had dashed his brethren to pieces. She
began to ask, how big? WTiether it were so great? puffing
herself up. Greater by half. What, so big? when she had

Horace

swelled herself more and more. If you should burst yourself.,
says he, you will not be equal to it. This image bears no
great dissimilitude to you. Now add poems, (that is, add
oil to the fire,) which if ever any man in his senses made, why
so do you. I do not mention your horrid rage. — At length,
have done — your way of living beyond your fortune — confine
yourself to your own affairs, Damasippus — those thousand
passions for the fair, the young. Thou greater madman, at
last, spare thy inferior.

SATIRE IV

HE RIDICULES THE ABSURDITY OF ONE CATIUS, WHO PLACED
THE SUMMIT OF HUMAN FELICITY IN THE CULINARY ART

WHENCE, and whither, Catius ? I have not time [to converse
with you], being desirous of impressing on my memory some
new precepts; such as excel Pythagoras, and him that was
accused by Anytus, and the learned Plato. I acknowledge
my offence, since I have interrupted you at so unlucky a
juncture: but grant me your pardon, good sir, I beseech you.
If anything should have slipped you now, you will presently
recollect it: whether this talent of yours be of nature, or of
art, you are amazing in both. Nay, but I was anxious, how
I might retain all [these precepts]: as being things of a
delicate nature, and in a delicate style. Tell me the name
of this man; and at the same time whether he is a Roman,
or a foreigner? As I have them by heart, I will recite the
precepts: the author shall be concealed.

Remember to serve up those eggs that are of an oblong
make, as being of sweeter flavour and more nutritive than the
round ones: for, being tough-shelled, they contain a male
yolk. Cabbage that grows in dry lands, is sweeter than that
about town: nothing is more insipid than a garden much
watered. If a visitor should come unexpectedly upon you in
the evening, lest the tough old hen prove disagreeable to his
palate, you must learn to drown it in Falernian wine mixed
[with water]: this will make it tender. The mushrooms

The Satires — Book II 199

that grow in meadows are of the best kind: all others are
dangerously trusted. That man shall spend his summers
healthy, who shall finish his dinners with mulberries black
[with ripeness], which he shall have gathered from the tree
before the sun becomes violent. Aufidius used to mix honey
with strong Falernian injudiciously; because it is right to
commit nothing to the empty veins, but what is emollient:
you will, with more propriety, wash your stomach with soft
mead. If your belly should be hard bound, the limpet and
coarse cockles will remove obstructions, and leaves of the
small sorrel; but not without Coan white wine. The in-
creasing moons swell the lubricating shell-fish. But every
sea is not productive of the exquisite sorts. The Lucrine mussel
is better than the Baian murex : [the best] oysters come from
the Circaean promontory ; cray-fish from Misenum : the soft
Tarentum plumes herself on her broad escalops. Let no
one presumptuously arrogate to himself the science of ban-
queting, unless the nice doctrine of tastes has been previously
considered by him with exact system. Nor is it enough to
sweep away a parcel of fishes from the expensive stall, [while
he remains] ignorant for what sort stewed sauce is more
proper, and what being roasted, the sated guest will presently
replace himself on his elbow. Let the boar from Umbria.
and that which has been fed with the acorns of the scarlet
oak, bend the round dishes of him who dislikes all flabby
meat : for the Laurentian boar, fattened with flags and reeds,
is bad. The vineyard does not always afford the most eatable
kids. A man of sense will be fond of the shoulders of a
pregnant hare. What is the proper age and nature of fish
and fowl, though inquired after, was never discovered before
my palate. There are some, whose genius invents nothing
but new kinds of pastry. To waste one's care upon one thing,
is by no means sufficient ; just as if any person should use all
his endeavours for this only, that the wine be not bad ; quite
careless what oil he pours upon his fish. If you set out
Massic wine in fair weather, should there be anything thick
in it, it will be attenuated by the nocturnal air, and the smell
unfriendly to the nerves will go off: but, if filtrated through
linen, if will lose its entire flavour. He, who skilfully mixes
the Surrentine wine with Falernian lees, collects the sediment

2oo Horace

with a pigeon's egg; because the yoke sinks to the bottom,
rolling down with it all the heterogeneous parts. You may
rouse the jaded toper with roasted shrimps and African
cockles ; for lettuce after wine floats upon the soured stomach :
by ham preferably, and by sausages, it craves to be restored
to its appetite : nay, it will prefer everything which is brought
smoking hot from the nasty eating-houses. It is worth while
to be acquainted with the two kinds of sauce. The simple
consists of sweet oil; which it will be proper to mix with rich
wine and pickle, but with no other pickle than that by which
the Byzantian jar has been tainted. When this, mingled
with shredded herbs, has boiled, and sprinkled with Corycian
saffron, has stood, you shall over and above add what the
pressed berry of the Venafran olive yields. The Tiburtian
yield to the Picenian apples in juice, though they excel in look.
The Venusian grape is proper for [preserving in] pots. The
Albanian you had better harden in the smoke. I am found to
be the first that served up this grape with apples in neat little
side-plates, to be the first [likewise that served up] wine-lees
and herring-brine, and white pepper finely mixed with black
salt. It is an enormous fault to bestow three thousand
sesterces on the fish-market, and then to cramp the roving
fishes in a narrow dish. It causes a great nausea in the
stomach, if even the slave touches the cup with greasy hands,
while he licks up snacks, or if offensive grime has adhered to
the ancient goblet. In trays, in mats, in sawdust, [that are
so] cheap, what great expense can there be? But, if they
are neglected, it is a heinous shame. What, should you
sweep Mosaic pavements with a dirty broom made of palm,
and throw Tyrian carpets over the unwashed furniture of your
couch! forgetting that, by how much less care and expense
these things are attended, so much the more justly may [the
want of them] be censured, than of those things which cannot
be obtained but at the tables of the rich?

Learned Catius, entreated by our friendship and the gods,
remember to introduce me to an audience [with this great
man], whenever you shall go to him. For, though by your
memory you relate everything to me, yet as a relater you
cannot delight me in so high a degree. Add to this the coun-
tenance and deportment of the man; whom you, happy in

The Satires — Book II 201

having seen, do not much regard, because it has been your
lot; but I have no small solicitude, that I may approach the
distant fountain-heads, and imbibe the precepts of [such] a
blessed life.

SATIRE V

IN A HUMOROUS DIALOGUE BETWEEN ULYSSES AND TIRESIAS,
HE EXPOSES THOSE ARTS WHICH THE FORTUNE-HUNTERS
MADE USE OF, IN ORDER TO BE APPOINTED THE HEIRS
OF RICH OLD MEN

BESIDE what you have told me, 0 Tiresias, answer to this
petition of mine : by what arts and expedients may I be able
to repair my ruined fortunes — why do you laugh? Does it
already seem little to you, who are practised in deceit, to be
brought back to Ithaca, and to behold [again] your family
household gods ? 0 you who never speak falsely to any one,
you see how naked and destitute I return home, according to
your prophecy: nor is either my cellar, or my cattle there,
unembezzled by the suitors [of Penelope]. But birth and
virtue, unless [attended] with substance, is viler than sea-
weed.

Since (circumlocutions apart) you are in dread of poverty,
hear by what means you may grow wealthy. If a thrush, or
any [nice] thing for your own private [eating], shall be given
you; it must wing way to that place, where shines a great
fortune, the possessor being an old man : delicious apples, and
whatever dainties your well-cultivated ground brings forth
for you, let the rich man, as more to be reverenced than your
household god, taste before him: and, though he be perjured,
of no family, stained with his brother's blood, a runaway; if
he desire it, do not refuse to go along with him, his companion
on the outer side. What, shall I walk cheek by jowl with a
filthy Damas ? I did not behave myself in that manner at
Troy, contending always with the best. You must then be
poor. I will command my sturdy soul to bear this evil; I
have formerly endured even greater. Do thou, 0 prophet,
tell me forthwith how I may amass riches, and heaps of
*H5'5

2O2 Horace

money. In troth I have told you, and tell you again. Use
your craft to lie at catch for the last wills of old men: nor,
if one or two cunning chaps escape by biting the bait off the
hook, either lay aside hope, or quit the art, though disap-
pointed in your aim. If an affair, either of little or great
consequence, shall be contested at any time at the bar;
whichever of the parties lives wealthy without heirs, should
he be a rogue, who daringly takes the law of a better man,
be thou his advocate : despise the citizen, who is superior in
reputation, and [the justness of] his cause, if at home he had
a son or a fruitful wife. [Address him thus:] " Quintus, for
instance, or Publius, (delicate ears delight in the prefixed
name,) your virtue has made me your friend. I am acquainted
with the precarious quirks of the law; I can plead causes.
Any one shall sooner snatch my eyes from me, than he shall
despise and defraud you of an empty nut. This is my care,
that you lose nothing, that you be not made a jest of." Bid
him go home, and make much of himself. Be his solicitor
yourself: persevere, and be steadfast: whether the glaring
dog-star shall cleave the infant statues ; or Furius, distended
with his greasy paunch, shall spue white snow over the wintry
Alps. Do not you see (shall some one say, jogging the person
that stands next to him by the elbow) how indefatigable he is,
how serviceable to his friends, how acute? [By this means]
more tunnies shall swim in, and your fish-ponds will increase.

Further, if any one in affluent circumstances has reared
an ailing son, lest a too open complaisance to a single man
should detect you, creep gradually into the hope [of succeed-
ing him], and that you may be set down as second heir; and,
if any casualty should despatch the boy to Hades, you may
come into the vacancy. This die seldom fails. Whoever
delivers his will to you to read, be mindful to decline it, and
push the parchment from you: [do it] however in such a
manner, that you may catch with an oblique glance, what the
first page intimates to be in the second clause : run over with
a quick eye, whether you are sole heir, or co-heir with many.
Sometimes a well-seasoned lawyer, risen from a Quinquevir,
shall delude the gaping raven; and the fortune-hunter
Nasica shall be laughed at by Coranus.

What, art thou in a [prophetic] raving; or dost thou play

The Satires — Book II 203

upon me designedly, by uttering obscurities? O son of
Laertes, whatever I shall say will come to pass, or it will not:
for the great Apollo gives me the power to divine. Then, if it
is proper, relate what that tale means.

At that time when the youth dreaded by the Parthians, an
offspring derived from the noble Aeneas, shall be mighty by
land and sea; the tall daughter of Nasica, averse to pay the
sum total of his debt, shall wed the stout Coranus. Then the
son-in-law shall proceed thus : he shall deliver his will to his
father-in-law, and entreat him to read it; Nasica will at
length receive it, after it has been several times refused, and
silently peruse it; and will find no other legacy left to him
and his, except leave to lament.

To these [directions I have already given], I subjoin the
[following]: if haply a cunning woman or a freedman have
the management of an old driveller, join with them as an
associate: praise them, that you may be praised in your
absence. This too is of service; but to storm [the capital]
itself excels this method by far. Shall he, a dotard, scribble
wretched verses? Applaud them. Shall he be given to
pleasure? Take care [you do not suffer him] to ask you:
of your own accord complaisantly deliver up your Penelope
to him, as preferable [to yourself]. What— do you think so
sober and so chaste a woman can be brought over, whom
[so many] wooers could not divert from the right course?
Because, forsooth, a parcel of young fellows came, who were
too parsimonious to give a great price, nor so much desirous
of an amorous intercourse, as of the kitchen. So far your
Penelope is a good woman : who, had she once tasted of one
old [doting gallant], and shared with you the profit, like a
hound, will never be frightened away from the reeking skin
[of the new-killed game].

What I am going to tell you happened when I was an old
man. A wicked hag at Thebes was, according to her will,
carried forth in this manner: her heir bore her corpse,
anointed with a large quantity of oil, upon his naked
shoulders ; with the intent that, if possible, she might escape
from him even when dead ; because, I imagine, he had pressed
upon her too much when living. Be cautious in your ad-
dresses : neither be wanting in your pains, nor immoderately

204 Horace

exuberant. By garrulity you will offend the splenetic and
morose. You must not., however, be too silent. Be Davus
in the play; and stand with your head on one side, much like
one who is in great awe. Attack him with complaisance: if
the air freshens, advise him carefully to cover up his precious
head: disengage him from the crowd, by opposing your
shoulders to it: closely attach your ear to him, if chatty. Is
he immoderately fond of being praised ? Pay him home, till
he shall cry out, with his hands lifted up to heaven, "Enough :"
and puff up the swelling bladder with tumid speeches. When
he shall have [at last] released you from your long servitude
and anxiety; and being certainly awake, you shall hear [this
article in his will] ? " Let Ulysses be heir to one-fourth of my
estate:' "is then my companion Damas now no more?
Where shall I find one so brave, and so faithful? ' Throw
out [something of this kind] every now and then : and if you
can a little, weep for him. It is fit to disguise your counten-
ance, which [otherwise] would betray your joy. As for the
monument, which is left to your own discretion, erect it
without meanness. The neighbourhood will commend the
funeral handsomely performed. If haply any of your co-
heirs, being advanced in years, should have a dangerous
cough; whether he has a mind to be a purchaser of a farm
or a house out of your share, tell him, you will [come to any
terms he shall propose, and] make it over to him gladly for
a trifling sum. But the imperious Proserpine drags me
hence. Live, and prosper.

SATIRE VI

HE SETS THE CONVENIENCES OF A COUNTRY RETIREMENT IN
OPPOSITION TO THE TROUBLES OF A LIFE IN TOWN

THIS was [ever] among the number of my wishes : a portion
of ground not over-large, in which was a garden, and a
fountain with a continual stream close to my house, and a
little woodland besides. The gods have done more abun-
dantly, and better, for me [than this]. It is well: O son of

The Satires — Book II 205

Maia, I ask nothing more save that you would render these
donations lasting to me. If I have neither made my estate
larger by bad means, nor am in a way to make it less by vice
or misconduct; if I do not foolishly make any petition of this
sort — " Oh that that neighbouring angle, which now spoils the
regularity of my field, could be added ! Oh that some acci-
dent would discover to me an urn [full] of money ! as it did
to him, who having found a treasure, bought that very
ground he before tilled in the capacity of an hired servant,
enriched by Hercules' being his friend; " if what I have at
present satisfies me grateful, I supplicate you with this
prayer: make my cattle fat for the use of their master, and
everything else, except my genius: and, as you are wont, be
present as my chief guardian. Wherefore, when I have
removed myself from the city to the mountains and my castle,
(what can I polish, preferably to my satires and prosaic muse ?)
neither evil ambition destroys me, nor the heavy south wind,
nor the sickly autumn, the gain of baleful Libitina.

Father of the morning, or Janus, if with more pleasure
thou hearest thyself [called by that name], from whom men
commence the toils of business, and of life, (such is the will of
the gods,) be thou the beginning of my song. At Rome you
hurry me away to be bail; " Away, despatch, [you cry,] lest
any one should be before-hand with you in doing that friendly
office: I must go, at all events, whether the north wind
sweep the earth, or winter contracts the snowy day into a
narrower circle. After this, having uttered in a clear and
determinate manner [the legal form], which may be a detri-
ment to me, I must bustle through the crowd ; and must dis-
oblige the tardy. " What is your will, madman, and what
are you about, impudent fellow ? ' So one accosts me with
his passionate curses. " You jostle everything that is in
your way, if with an appointment full in your mind you are
posting away to Maecenas." This pleases me, and is like
honey: I will not tell a lie. But by the time I reach the
gloomy Esquiliae, a hundred affairs of other people's encom-
pass me on every side: " Roscius begged that you would be
with him at the court-house to-morrow before the second
hour." " The secretaries requested you would remember,
Quintus, to return to-day about an affair of public concern,

206 Horace

and of great consequence." " Get Maecenas to put his signet
to these tablets." Should one say, " I will endeavour at
it: " *' If you will, you can/' adds he; and is more earnest.
The seventh year approaching to the eighth is now elapsed,
from the time that Maecenas began to reckon me in the
number of his friends ; only thus far, as one he would like to
take along with him in his chariot, when he went a journey,
and to whom he would trust such kind of trifles as these:
" What is the hour? ' " Is Gallina, the Thracian, a match
for [the gladiator] Syrus? ' " The cold morning air begins
to pinch those that are ill provided against it; ' —and such
things as are well enough intrusted to a leaky ear. For all
this time, every day and hour, I have been more subjected to
envy. Our son of fortune here, says everybody, witnessed
the shows in company with [Maecenas], and played with him
in the Campus Martius." Does any disheartening report
spread from the rostrum through the streets, whoever comes
in my way consults me [concerning it] : " Good Sir, have you
(for you must know, since you approach nearer the gods)
heard anything relating to the Dacians? ' " Nothing at all
for my part," [I reply]. "How you ever are a sneerer!'
" But may all the gods torture me, if I know anything of the
matter." "What! will Caesar give the lands he promised
the soldiers, in Sicily, or in Italy ? ' As I am swearing I know
nothing about it, they wonder at me, [thinking] me, to be
sure, a creature of extraordinary and profound secrecy.

Among things of this nature the day is wasted by me,
mortified as I am, not without such wishes as these : 0 rural
retirement, when shall I behold thee? and when shall it be
in my power to pass through the pleasing oblivion of a life
full of solicitude, one while with the books of the ancients,
another while in sleep and leisure ? 0 when shall the bean
related to Pythagoras, and at the same time herbs well larded
with fat bacon, be set before me? 0 evenings, and suppers
fit for gods ! with which I and my friends regale ourselves in
the presence of my household gods ; and feed my saucy slaves
with viands, of which libations have been made. The guest,
according to every one's inclination, takes off the glasses of
different sizes, free from mad laws: whether one of a strong
constitution chooses hearty bumpers; or another more

The Satires — Book II 207

joyously gets mellow with moderate ones. Then conversa-
tion arises, not concerning other people's villas and houses,
nor whether Lepos dances well or not; but we debate on
what is more to our purpose, and what it is pernicious not to
know — whether men are made happy by riches or by virtue ;
or what leads us into intimacies, interest or moral rectitude ;
and what is the nature of good, and what its perfection.
Meanwhile, my neighbour Cervius prates away old stories
relative to the subject. For, if any one ignorantly commends
the troublesome riches of Arelius, he thus begins: " On a
time a country-mouse is reported to have received a city-
mouse into his poor cave, an old host his old acquaintance ; a
blunt fellow and attentive to his acquisitions, yet so as he
could [on occasion] enlarge his narrow soul in acts of hospi-
tality. What need of many words ? He neither grudged him
the hoarded vetches, nor the long oats; and bringing in his
mouth a dry plum, and nibbled scraps of bacon, presented
them to him, being desirous by the variety of the supper to
get the better of the daintiness of his guest, who hardly
touched with his delicate tooth the several things : while the
father of the family himself, extended on fresh straw, ate a
spelt and darnel, leaving that which was better [for his guest].
At length the citizen addressing him, ' Friend,' says he,
1 what delight have you to live laboriously on the ridge of a
rugged thicket ? Will you not prefer men and the city to the
savage woods? Take my advice, and go along with me:
since mortal lives are allotted to all terrestrial animals, nor is
there any escape from death, either for the great or the small.
Wherefore, my good friend, while it is in your power, live
happy in joyous circumstances: live mindful of how brief an
existence you are.' Soon as these speeches had wrought upon
the peasant, he leaps nimbly from his cave : thence they both
pursue their intended journey, being desirous to steal under
the city-walls by night. And now the night possessed the
middle region of the heavens, when each of them set foot in
a gorgeous palace, where carpets dyed with crimson grain
glittered upon ivory couches, and many baskets of a magnifi-
cent entertainment remained, which had yesterday been set
by in baskets piled upon one another. After he had placed
the peasant then, stretched at ease, upon a splendid carpet;

208 Horace

he bustles about like an adroit host, and keeps bringing up one
dish close upon another, and with an affected civility per-
forms all the ceremonies, first tasting of everything he serves
up. He, reclined, rejoices in the change of his situation, and
acts the part of a boon companion in the good cheer; when
on a sudden a prodigious rattling of the folding doors shook
them both from their couches. Terrified they began to
scamper all about the room, and more and more heartless to
be in confusion, while the lofty house resounded with [the
barking of] mastiff dogs; upon which, says the country-
mouse, ' I have no desire for a life like this ; and so farewell :
my wood and cave, secure from surprises, shall with homely
tares comfort me.'

SATIRE VII

ONE OF HORACE'S SLAVES, MAKING USE OF THAT FREEDOM
WHICH WAS ALLOWED THEM AT THE SATURNALIA, RATES
HIS MASTER IN A DROLL AND SEVERE MANNER

I HAVE a long while been attending [to you], and would fain
speak a few words [in return; but, being] a slave, I am
afraid. What, Davus ? Yes, Davus, a faithful servant to his
master and an honest one, at least sufficiently so: that is,
for you to think his life in no danger. Well, (since our
ancestors would have it so,) use the freedom of December:
speak on.

One part of mankind are fond of their vices with some con-
stancy, and adhere to their purpose : a considerable part fluc-
tuates; one while embracing the right, another while liable
to depravity. Priscus, frequently observed with three rings,
sometimes with his left hand bare, lived so irregularly that
he would change his robe every hour; from a magnificent
edifice, he would on a sudden hide himself in a place, whence
a decent freedman could scarcely come out in a decent manner;
one while he would choose to lead the life of a rake at Rome,
another while that of a teacher at Athens; born under the
evil influence of every Vertumnus. That buffoon, Volanerius,

The Satires — Book II 209

when the deserved gout had crippled his fingers, maintained
[a fellow] that he had hired at a daily price, who took up the
dice and put them into the box for him: yet by how much
more constant he was in his vice, by so much less wretched
was he than the former person, who is now in difficulties by
too loose, now by too tight a rein.

" Will you not tell to-day, you varlet, whither such
wretched stuff as this tends ? ' " Why, to you, I say." " In
what respect to me, scoundrel ? ' " You praise the happiness
and manners of the ancient [Roman] people ; and yet, if any
god were on a sudden to reduce you to them, you, the same
man, would earnestly beg to be excused ; either because you
are not really of opinion, that what you bawl about is right;
or because you are irresolute in defending the right, and hesi-
tate, in vain desirous to extract your foot from the mire.
At Rome, you long for the country; when you are in the
country, fickle, you extol the absent city to the skies. If
haply you are invited out no where to supper, you praise youi
quiet dish of vegetables; and as if you ever go abroad upon
compulsion, you think yourself so happy, and do so hug
yourself, that you are obliged to drink out no where. Should
Maecenas lay his commands upon you to come late, at the first
lighting up of the lamps, as his guest; ' Will nobody bring
the oil with more expedition? Does anybody hear? ' You
stutter with a mighty bellowing, and storm with rage. Mil-
vius, and the buffoons [who expected to sup with you], depart,
after having uttered curses not proper to be repeated. Any
one may say, for I own [the truth], that I am easy to be
seduced by my appetite; I snuff up my nose at a savoury
smell: I am weak, lazy; and, if you have a mind to add
anything else, I am a sot. But seeing you are as I am, and
perhaps something worse, why do you wilfully call me to an
account, as if you were the better man; and, with specious
phrases, disguise your own vice? What, if you are found
out to be a greater fool than me, who was purchased for five
hundred drachmas ? Forbear to terrify me with your looks ;
restrain your hand and your anger, while I relate to you what
Crispinus' porter taught me.

"Another man's wife captivates you; a harlot, Davus:
which of us sins more deservingly of the cross ? When keen

2i o Horace

nature inflames me, any common wench that picks me up,
dismisses me neither dishonoured, nor caring whether a richer
or a handsomer man enjoys her next. You, when you have
cast off your ensigns of dignity, your equestrian ring and
your Roman habit, turn out from a magistrate a wretched
Dama, hiding with a cape your perfumed head : are you not
really what you personate? You are introduced, apprehen-
sive [of consequences] ; and, as you are altercating with your
passions, your bones shake with fear. What is the difference
whether you go condemned, [like a gladiator,] to be galled
with scourges, or slain with the sword ; or be closed up in a
filthy chest, where [the maid], conscious of her mistress'
crime, has stowed you ? Has not the husband of the offend-
ing dame a just power over both; against the seducer even a
juster? But she neither changes her dress, nor place, nor sins
to that excess [which you do] ; since the woman is in dread
of you, nor gives any credit to you, though you profess to
love her. You must go under the yoke knowingly, and put
all your fortune, your life, and reputation, together with your
limbs, into the power of an enraged husband. Have you
escaped ? I suppose, then, you will be afraid [for the future] ;
and, being warned, will be cautious. No, you will seek occa-
sion when you may be again in terror, and again may be
likely to perish. 0 so often a slave ! What beast, when it
has once escaped by breaking its toils, absurdly trusts itself
to them again? You say, " I am no adulterer." Nor, by
Hercules, am I a thief, when I wisely pass by the silver vases.
Take away the danger, and vagrant nature will spring forth,
when restraints are removed. Are you my superior, sub-
jected as you are, to the dominion of so many things and
persons, whom the praetor's rod, though placed on your head
three or four times over, can never free from this wretched
solicitude ? Add, to what has been said above, a thing of no
less weight; whether he be an underling, who obeys the
master-slave, (as it is your custom to affirm,) or only a fellow-
slave, what am I in respect of you ? You, for example, who
have the command of me, are in subjection to other things,
and are led about, like a puppet movable by means of wires
not its own.

"Who then is free? The wise man, who has dominion

The Satires — Book II 211

over himself; whom neither poverty, nor death, nor chains
affright; brave in the checking of his appetites, and in con-
temning honours; and, perfect in himself, polished and round
as a globe, so that nothing from without can retard, in conse-
quence of its smoothness; against whom misfortune ever
advances ineffectually. Can you, out of these, recognise any-
thing applicable to yourself ? A woman demands five talents
of you, plagues you, and after you are turned out of doors,
bedews you with cold water: she calls you again. Rescue
your neck from this vile yoke; come, say, I am free, I am
free. You are not able: for an implacable master oppresses
your mind, and claps the sharp spurs to your jaded appetite,
and forces you on though reluctant. When you, mad one,
quite languish at a picture by Pausias; how are you less to
blame than I, when I admire the combats of Fulvius and
Rutuba and Placideianus, with their bended knees, painted in
crayons or charcoal, as if the men were actually engaged,
and push and parry, moving their weapons? Davus is a
scoundrel, and a loiterer; but you have the character of an
exquisite and expert connoisseur in antiquities. If I am
allured by a smoking pasty, I am a good-for-nothing fellow :
does your great virtue and soul resist delicate entertainments ?
Why is a tenderness for my belly too destructive for me ? For
my back pays for it. How do you come off with more im-
punity, since you hanker after such dainties as cannot be
had for a little expense ? Then those delicacies, perpetually
taken, pall upon the stomach; and your mistaken feet refuse
to support your sickly body. Is that boy guilty, who by
night pawns a stolen scraper for some grapes? Has he
nothing servile about him, who in indulgence to his guts sells
his estates? Add to this, that you yourself cannot be an
hour by yourself, nor dispose of your leisure in a right manner;
and shun yourself as a fugitive and vagabond, one while en-
deavouring with wine, another while with sleep, to cheat care
—in vain : for the gloomy companion presses upon you, and
pursues you in your flight."

" Where can I get a stone ? ' " What occasion is there for
it? " " Where some darts? ' " The man is either mad, or
making verses." " If you do not take yourself away in an
instant, you shall go [and make] a ninth labourer at my
Sabine estate."

212 Horace

SATIRE VIII

A SMART DESCRIPTION OF A MISER RIDICULOUSLY ACTING

THE EXTRAVAGANT

How did the entertainment of that happy fellow Nasidienus
please you ? for yesterday, as I was seeking to make you my
guest, you were said to be drinking there from mid-day.
[It pleased me so], that I never was happier in my life. Say
(if it be not troublesome) what food first calmed your raging
appetite.

In the first place, there was a Lucanian boar, taken when
the gentle south wind blew, as the father of the entertain-
ment affirmed; around it sharp rapes, lettuces, radishes;
such things as provoke a languid appetite ; skirrets, anchovies,
dregs of Coan wine. These once removed, one slave, tucked
high with a purple cloth, wiped the maple table, and a
second gathered up whatever lay useless, and whatever could
offend the guests ; swarthy Hydaspes advances like an Attic
maid with Ceres' sacred rites, bearing wines of Caecubum;
Alcon brings those of Chios, undamaged by the sea. Here
the master [cries], " Maecenas, if Alban or Falernian wine
delight you more than those already brought, we have both.''

Ill-fated riches ! But, Fundanius, I am impatient to know,
who were sharers in this feast where you fared so well.

I was highest, and next me wras Viscus Thurinus, and below,
if I remember, was Varius ; with Servilius Balatro, Vibidius,
whom Maecenas had brought along with him, unbidden
guests. Above [Nasidienus] himself was Nomentanus, below
him Porcius, ridiculous for swallowing whole cakes at once.
Nomentanus [was present] for this purpose, that if anything
should chance to be unobserved, he might show it with his
pointing finger. For the other company, we, I mean, eat
[promiscuously] of fowls, oysters, fish, which had concealed
in them a juice far different from the known: as presently
appeared, when he reached to me the entrails of a plaice and
of a turbot, such as had never been tasted before. After this
he informed me that honey-apples were most ruddy when

The Satires — Book II 213

gathered under the waning moon. What difference this
makes you will hear best from himself. Then [says] Vibidius
to Balatro; " If we do not drink to his cost, we shall die in
his debt: ' and he calls for larger tumblers. A paleness
changed the countenance of our host, who fears nothing so
much as hard drinkers: either because they are more freely
censorious; or because heating wines deafen the subtle
[judgment of the] palate. Vibidius and Balatro, all following
their example,, pour whole casks into Alliphanians ; the guests
of the lowest couch did no hurt to the flagons. A lamprey is
brought in, extended in a dish, in the midst of floating shrimps.
Whereupon, " This," says the master, " was caught when
pregnant; which, after having young, wrould have been less
delicate in its flesh." For these a sauce is mixed up; with
oil which the best cellar of Venafrum pressed, with pickle
from the juices of the Iberian fish, with wine of five years old,
but produced on this side the sea, while it is boiling (after it
is boiled, the Chian wine suits it so well, that no other does
better than it) with white pepper, and vinegar which, by
being vitiated, turned sour the Methymnean grape. I first
showed the way to stew in it green rockets and bitter elecam-
pane: Curtillus, [to stew in it] the sea-urchins unwashed, as
being better than the pickle which the sea shell-fish yields.

In the meantime the suspended tapestry made a heavy
downfall upon the dish, bringing along with it more black
dust than the north wind ever raises on the plains of Cam-
pania. Having been fearful of something worse, as soon as
we perceived there was no danger, we rise up. Rufus, hang-
ing his head, began to weep, as if his son had come to an
untimely death: what would have been the end, had not the
discreet Nomentanus thus raised his friend! "Alas! O
fortune, what god is more cruel to us than thou ? How dost
thou always take pleasure in sporting with human affairs ! '
Varius could scarcely smother a laugh with his napkin.
Balatro, sneering at everything, observed; " This is the con-
dition of human life, and therefore a suitable glory will never
answer your labour. Must you be rent and tortured with all
manner of anxiety, that I may be entertained sumptuously;
lest burned bread, lest ill-seasoned soup should be set before
us; that all your slaves should wait, properly attired and

214 Horace

neat? Add, besides, these accidents; if the hangings should
tumble down, as just now, if the groom slipping with his foot
should break a dish. But adversity is wont to disclose,
prosperity to conceal, the abilities of a host as well as of a
general." To this Nasidienus: " May the gods give you all
the blessings, whatever you can pray for, you are so good a
man and so civil a guest; " and calls for his sandals. Then
on every couch you might see divided whispers buzzing in
each secret ear.

I would not choose to have seen any theatrical entertain-
ments sooner than these things. But come, recount what
you laughed at next. While Vibidius is inquiring of the
slaves, whether the flagon was also broken, because cups
were not brought when he called for them ; and while a laugh
is continued on feigned pretences, Balatro seconding it; you,
Nasidienus, return with an altered countenance, as if to
repair your ill-fortune by art. Then followed the slaves,
bearing on a large charger the several limbs of a crane be-
sprinkled with much salt, not without flour, and the liver of
a white goose fed with fattening figs, and the sweetbreads of
hares torn off, as a much daintier dish than if one eats them
with the loins. Then we saw blackbirds also set before us
with scorched breasts, and ring-doves without the rumps:
delicious morsels! did not the master give us the history of
their causes and natures : whom we in revenge fled from, so as
to taste nothing at all; as if Canidia, more venomous than
African serpents, had poisoned them with her breath.

THE EPISTLES— BOOK I

EPISTLE I

TO MAECENAS

The poet renounces all verses of a ludicrous turn, and resolves to
apply himself wholly to the study of philosophy, which teaches to
bridle the desires and to postpone everything to virtue.

MAECENAS,, the subject of my earliest song, justly entitled to
my latest, dost thou seek to engage me again in the old lists,
having been tried sufficiently, and now presented with the
foils? My age is not the same, nor is my genius. Veianius,
his arms consecrated on a pillar of Hercules' temple, lives
snugly retired in the country, that he may not from the
extremity of the sandy amphitheatre so often supplicate the
people's favour. Some one seems frequently to ring in my
purified ear: " Wisely in time dismiss the aged courser, lest,
an object o,f derision, he miscarry at last, and break his wind."
Now therefore I lay aside both verses, and all other sportive
matters; my study and inquiry is after what is true and
fitting, and I am wholly engaged in this : I lay up, and collect
rules which I may be able hereafter to bring into use. And
lest you should perchance ask under what leader, in what
house [of philosophy], I enter myself a pupil: addicted to
swear implicitly to the ipse-dixits of no particular master,
wherever the weather drives me, I am carried a guest. One
while I become active, and am plunged in the waves of state
affairs, a maintainer and a rigid partisan of strict virtue ; then
again I relapse insensibly into Aristippus' maxims, and en-
deavour to adapt circumstances to myself, not myself to cir-
cumstances. As the night seems long to those with whom a
mistress has broken her appointment, and the day slow to
those who owe their labour; as the year moves lazy with
minors, whom the harsh guardianship of their mothers con-

215

216 Horace

fines; so all that time to me flows tedious and distasteful,
which delays my hope and design of strenuously executing
that which is of equal benefit to the poor and to the rich,
which neglected will be of equal detriment to young and to
old. It remains, that I conduct and comfort myself by these
principles: your sight is not so piercing as that of Lynceus;
you will not however therefore despise being anointed, if you
are sore-eyed : nor because you despair of the muscles of the
invincible Glycon, will you be careless of preserving your
body from the knotty gout. There is some point to which we
may reach, if we can go no further. Does your heart burn
with avarice, and a wretched desire of more? Spells there
are, and incantations, with which you may mitigate this pain,
and rid yourself of a great part of the distemper. Do you
swell with the love of praise ? There are certain purgations
which can restore you, a certain treatise being perused thrice
with purity of mind. The envious, the choleric, the indolent,
the slave to wine, to women — none is so savage that he can-
not be tamed, if he will only lend a patient ear to discipline.
It is virtue, to fly vice; and the highest wisdom to have
lived free from folly. You see with what toil of mind and
body you avoid those things which you believe to be the
greatest evils, a small fortune and a shameful repulse. An
active merchant, you run to the remotest Indies, fleeing
poverty through sea, through rocks, through flames. And
will you not learn, and hear, and be advised by one who is
wiser, that you may no longer regard those things which you
foolishly admire and wish for? What little champion of the
villages and of the streets would scorn being crowned at the
great Olympic games, who had the hopes and happy oppor-
tunity of victory without toil? Silver is less valuable than
gold, gold than virtue. ' O citizens, citizens, money is to be
sought first; virtue after riches:' this the highest Janus
from the lowest inculcates ; young men and old repeat these
maxims, having their bags and account-books hung on the
left arm. You have soul, have breeding, have eloquence and
honour: yet if six or seven thousand sesterces be wanting
to complete your four hundred thousand, you shall be a
plebeian. But boys at play cry, " You shall be king, if you
will do right." Let this be a [man's] brazen wall, to be con-

The Epistles — Book I 217

scious of no ill, to turn pale with no guilt. Tell me, pray,
is the Roscian law best, or the boy's song which offers the
kingdom to them that do right, sung by the manly Curii and
Camilli? Does he advise you best, who says, "Make a
fortune; a fortune, if you can, honestly; if not, a fortune by
any means " — that you may view from a nearer bench the
tear-moving poems of Puppius : or he, who still animates and
enables you to stand free and upright, a match for haughty
fortune ?

If now perchance the Roman people should ask me, why I
do not enjoy the same sentiments with them, as [I do the
same] porticoes, nor pursue or fly from whatever they admire
or dislike ; I will reply, as the cautious fox once answered the
sick lion: " Because the foot-marks all looking toward you,
and none from you, affright me." Thou art a monster with
many heads. For what shall I follow, or whom ? One set of
men delight to farm the public revenues: there are some,
who would inveigle covetous widows with sweetmeats and

fruits, and insnare old men, whom they would send [like fish]
into their ponds: the fortunes of many grow by concealed
usury. But be it, that different men are engaged in different
employments and pursuits : can the same person continue an
hour together approving the same things? If the man of
wealth has said, " No bay in the world outshines delightful
Baiae," the lake and the sea presently feel the eagerness of
their impetuous master: to whom, if a vicious humour gives
the omen, [he will cry,] — " to-morrow, workmen, ye shall
convey hence your tools to Teanum." Has he in his hall the
genial bed ? He says nothing is preferable to, nothing better
than a single life. If he had not, he swears the married only
are happy. With what noose can I hold this Proteus, vary-
ing thus his forms ? What does the poor man ? Laugh [at
him too] : is he not for ever changing his garrets, beds, baths,
barbers? He is as much surfeited in a hired boat, as the
rich man is, whom his own galley conveys.

If I meet you with my hair badly cut by the barber, you
laugh [at me]: if I chance to have a ragged shirt under a
handsome coat, or if my disproportioned gown fits me ill, you
laugh. What [do you do], when my judgment contradicts
itself? it despises what it before desired; seeks for that

21 8 Horace

which lately it neglected; is all in a ferment, and is incon-
sistent in the whole tenor of life; pulls down, builds up,
changes square to round. In this case, you think I am mad
in the common way, and you do not laugh, nor believe that I
stand in need of a physician, or of a guardian assigned by the
praetor; though you are the patron of my affairs, and are
disgusted at the ill-pared nail of a friend that depends upon
you, that reveres you.

In a word, the wise man is inferior to Jupiter alone, is rich,
free, honourable, handsome, lastly, king of kings; above all,
he is sound, unless when phlegm is troublesome.

EPISTLE II

TO LOLLIUS

He prefers Homer to all the philosophers, as a moral writer, and
advises an early cultivation of virtue.

WHILE you, great Lollius, declaim at Rome, I at Praeneste
have perused over again the writer of the Trojan war; who
teaches more clearly, and better than Chrysippus and Grantor,
what is honourable, what shameful, what profitable, what not
so. If nothing hinders you, hear why I have thus concluded.
The story in which, on account of Paris's intrigue, Greece is
stated to be wasted in a tedious war with the barbarians,
contains the tumults of foolish princes and people. An tenor
gives his opinion for cutting off the cause of the war. What
does Paris ? He cannot be brought to comply, [though it be
in order] that he may reign safe, and live happy. Nestor
labours to compose the differences between Achilles and
Agamemnon: love inflames one; rage both in common.
The Greeks surfer for what their princes act foolishly.
Within the walls of Ilium, and without, enormities are com-
mitted by sedition, treachery, injustice, and lust, and rage.

Again, to show what virtue and what wisdom can do, he
has propounded Ulysses an instructive pattern : who, having
subdued Troy, wisely got an insight into the constitutions

The Epistles — Book I 219

and customs of many nations; and, while for himself and his
associates he is contriving a return, endured many hardships
on the spacious sea, not to be sunk by all the waves of adver-
sity. You are well acquainted with the songs of the Sirens,
and Circe's cups: of which, if he had foolishly and greedily
drunk along with his attendants, he had been an ignominious
and senseless slave under the command of a prostitute: he
had lived a filthy dog, or a hog delighting in mire.

We are a mere number, and born to consume the fruits
of the earth; like Penelope's suitors, useless drones; like
Alcinous' youth, employed above measure in pampering their
bodies; whose glory was to sleep till mid-day, and to lull
their cares to rest by the sound of the harp. Robbers rise by
night, that they may cut men's throats; and will not you
awake to save yourself ? But, if you will not when you are in
health, you will be forced to take exercise when you are in a
dropsy ; and unless before day you call for a book with a light,
unless you brace your mind with study and honest employ-
ments, you will be kept awake and tormented with envy or
with love. For why do you hasten to remove things that
hurt your eyes, but if anything gnaws your mind, defer the
time of curing it from year to year? He has half the deed
done, wrho has made a beginning. Boldly undertake the
study of true wisdom : begin it forthwith. He who postpones
the hour of living well, like the hind [in the fable], waits till
[all the water in] the river be run off: whereas it flows, and
will flow, ever rolling on.

Money is sought, and a wife fruitful in bearing children,
and wild woodlands are reclaimed by the plough. [To what
end all this?] He that has got a competency, let him wish
for no more. Not a house and farm, nor a heap of brass
and gold, can remove fevers from the body of their sick
master, or cares from his mind. The possessor must be well,
if he thinks of enjoying the things which he has accumulated.
To him that is a slave to desire or to fear, house and estate
do just as much good as paintings to a sore-eyed person,
fomentations to the gout, music to ears afflicted with collected
matter. Unless the vessel be sweet, whatever you pour into
it turns sour. Despise pleasures: pleasure bought with pain
is hurtful. The covetous man is ever in want: set a certain

220 Horace

limit to your wishes. The envious person wastes at the
thriving condition of another: Sicilian tyrants never in-
vented a greater torment than envy. He who will not curb
his passion, will wish that undone which his grief and resent-
ment suggested, while he violently plies his revenge with
unsated rancour. Rage is a short madness. Rule your
passion, which commands, if it do not obey; do you restrain
it with a bridle, and with fetters. The groom forms the
docile horse, while his neck is yet tender, to go the way which
his rider directs him: the young hound, from the time that
he barked at the deer's skin in the hall, campaigns it in the
woods. Now, while you are young, with an untainted mind
imbibe instruction: now apply yourself to the best [masters
of morality]. A cask will long preserve the flavour, with
which when new it was once impregnated. But if you lag
behind, or vigorously push on before, I neither wait for the
loiterer, nor strive to overtake those that precede me.

EPISTLE III

TO JULIUS FLORUS

After inquiring about Claudius Tiberius Nero, and some of his friends,
he exhorts Florus to the study of philosophy.

I LONG to know, Julius Florus, in what regions of the earth
Claudius, the step-son of Augustus, is waging war. Do
Thrace and Hebrus, bound with icy chains, or the narrow
sea running between the neighbouring towers, or Asia's
fertile plains and hills detain you? What works is the
studious cohort planning? In this too I am anxious — who
takes upon himself to write the military achievements cf
Augustus? Who diffuses into distant ages his deeds in war
and peace? What is Titius about, who shortly will be cele-
brated by every Roman tongue; who dreaded not to drink
of the Pindaric spring, daring to disdain common waters and
open streams : how does he do ? How mindful is he of me ?
Does he employ himself to adapt Theban measures to the

The Epistles — Book I 221

Latin lyre., under the direction of his muse? Or does he
storm and swell in the pompous style of tragic art ? What is
my Celsus doing? He has been advised, and the advice is
still often to be repeated, to acquire stock of his own, and
forbear to touch whatever writings the Palatine Apollo has
received : lest, if it chance that the flock of birds should some
time or other come to demand their feathers, he, like the daw
stripped of his stolen colours, be exposed to ridicule. What
do you yourself undertake? What thyme are you busy
hovering about? Your genius is not small, is not unculti-
vated nor inelegantly rough. Whether you edge your tongue
for [pleading] causes, or whether you prepare to give counsel
in the civil law, or whether you compose some lovely poem ;
you will bear off the first prize of the victorious ivy. If now
you could quit the cold fomentations of care ; whithersoever
heavenly wisdom would lead you, you would go. Let us,
both small and great, push forward in this work, in this pur-
suit: if to our country, if to ourselves we would live dear.

You must also write me word of this, whether Munatius is
of as much concern to you as he ought to be? Or whether
the ill-patched reconciliation in vain closes, and is rent
asunder again? But, whether hot blood, or inexperience in
things exasperates you, wild as coursers with unsubdued
neck, in whatever place you live, too worthy to break the
fraternal bond, a devoted heifer is feeding against your return.

EPISTLE IV

TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS

He declares his accomplishments; and, after proposing the thought of
death, converts it into an occasion of pleasantry.

j thou candid critic of my discourses, what shall I say
you are now doing in the country about Pedum? Writing
what may excel the works of Cassius Parmensis ; or saunter-
ing silently among the healthful groves, concerning yourself
about everything worthy a wise and good man ? You were
not a body without a mind The gods have given you a

222

Horace

beautiful form, the gods [have given] you wealth, and the
faculty of enjoying it.

What greater blessing could a nurse solicit for her beloved
child, than that he might be wise, and able to express his
sentiments; and that respect, reputation, health might
happen to him in abundance, and a decent living, with a
never failing purse ?

In the midst of hope and care, in the midst of fears and dis-
quietudes, think every day that shines upon you is the last.
[Thus] the hour, which shall not be expected, will come upon
you an agreeable addition.

When you have a mind to laugh, you shall see me fat and
sleek with good keeping, a hog of Epicurus' herd.

EPISTLE V

TO TORQUATUS
He invites him to a frugal entertainment, but a cleanly and cheerful one.

IF you can repose yourself as my guest upon Archias' couches,
and are not afraid to make a whole meal on all sorts of herbs
from a moderate dish; I will expect you, Torquatus, at my
house about sun-set. You shall drink wine poured into the
vessel in the second consulship of Taurus, produced between
the fenny Minturnae and Petrinum of Sinuessa. If you have
anything better, send for it; or bring your commands.
Bright shines my hearth, and my furniture is clean for you
already. Dismiss airy hopes, and contests about riches, and
Moschus' cause. To-morrow, a festal day on account of
Caesar's birth, admits of indulgence and repose. We shall
have free liberty to prolong the summer evening with friendly
conversation. To what purpose have I fortune, if I may not
use it ? He that is sparing out of regard to his heir, and too
niggardly, is next neighbour to a madman. I will begin to
drink and scatter flowers, and I will endure even to be
accounted foolish. What does not wine freely drunken
enterprise? It discloses secrets; commands our hopes to

The Epistles — Book I 223

be ratified; pushes the dastard on to the fight; removes
the pressure from troubled minds; teaches the arts. Whom
have not plentiful cups made eloquent? Whom have they
not [made] free and easy under pinching poverty?

I, who am both the proper person and not unwilling, am
charged to take care of these matters ; that no dirty covering
on the couch, no foul napkin contract your nose into wrinkles ;
and that the cup and the dish may show you to yourself;
that there be no one to carry abroad what is said among faith-
ful friends ; that equals may meet and be joined with equals.
I will add to you Butra, and Septicius, and Sabinus, unless a
better entertainment and a mistress more agreeable detain
him. There is room also for many introductions : but goaty
ramminess is offensive in over-crowded companies.

Do you write word, what number you would be; and set-
ting aside business, through the back-door give the slip to
your client who keeps guard in your court.

EPISTLE VI

TO NUMICIUS
That a wise man is in love with nothing but virtue.

To admire nothing is almost the one and only thing, Numicius,
which can make and keep a man happy. There are who
view this sun, and the stars, and the seasons retiring at certain
periods, untainted with any fear. What do you think of the
gifts of the earth ? What of the sea, that enriches the remote
Arabians and Indians ? What of scenical shows, the applause
and favours of the kind Roman? In what manner do you
think they are to be looked upon, with what apprehensions
and countenance? He that dreads the reverse of these,
admires them almost in the same way as he that desires
them; fear alike disturbs both ways: an unforeseen turn of
things equally terrifies each of them: let a man rejoice or
grieve, desire or fear; what matters it — if, whatever he per-
ceives better or worse than his expectations, with downcast

224

Horace

look he be stupified in mind and body? Let the wise man
bear the name of fool, the just of unjust; if he pursue virtue
itself beyond proper bounds.

Go now, look with transport upon silver, and antique
marble, and brazen statues, and the arts: admire gems, and
Tyrian dyes: rejoice, that a thousand eyes are fixed upon
you while you speak: industrious repair early to the forum,
late to your house, that Mutus may not reap more grain
[than you] from his lands gained in dowry, and (unbecoming,
since he sprung from meaner parents) that he may not be an
object of admiration to you, rather than you to him. What-
ever is in the earth, time will bring forth into open day-light;
will bury and hide things, that now shine brightest. When
Agrippa's portico, and the Appian Way, shall have beheld
you well known; still it remains for you to go where Numa
and Ancus are arrived. If your side or your reins are
afflicted with an acute disease, seek a remedy from the disease.
Would you live happily ? Who would not ? If virtue alone
can confer this, discarding pleasures, strenuously pursue it.
Do you think virtue mere words, as a grove is trees ? Be it
your care that no other enter the port before you ; that you
lose not your traffic with Cibyra, with Bithynia. Let the
round sum of a thousand talents be completed; as many
more; further, let a third thousand succeed, and the part
which may square the heap. For why, sovereign money
gives a wife with a [large] portion, and credit, and friends,
and family, and beauty; and [the goddesses], Persuasion and
Venus, grace the well-monied man. The king of the Cappa-
docians, rich in slaves, is in want of coin; be not you like
him. Lucullus, as they say, being asked if he could lend a
hundred cloaks for the stage, " How can I so many? " said
he: ' yet I will see, and send as many as I have: " a little
after he writes, that he had five thousand cloaks in his house;
they might take part of them, or all. It is a scanty house,
where there are not many things superfluous, and which
escape the owner's notice, and are the gain of pilfering slaves.
If then wealth alone can make and keep a man happy, be
first in beginning this work, be last in leaving it off. If
appearances and popularity make a man fortunate, let us
purchase a slave to dictate [to us] the names [of the citizens],

The Epistles — Book I 225

to jog us on the left-side, and to make us stretch our hand
over obstacles: " This man has much interest in the Fabian,
that in the Veline tribe; this will give the fasces to any one,
and, indefatigably active, snatch the curule ivory from whom
he pleases; add [the names of] father, brother: according as
the age of each is, so courteously adopt him. If he who
feasts well, lives well; it is day, let us go whither our appetite
leads us : let us fish, let us hunt, as did some time Gargilius :
who ordered his toils, hunting-spears, slaves, early in the
morning to pass through the crowded forum and the people :
that one mule among many, in the sight of the people, might
return loaded with a boar purchased with money. Let us
bathe with an indigested and full-swollen stomach, forgetting
what is becoming, what not; deserving to be enrolled among
the citizens of Caere; like the depraved crew of Ulysses of
Ithaca, to whom forbidden pleasure was dearer than their
country. If, as Mimnermus thinks, nothing is pleasant
without love and mirth, live in love and mirth.

Live: be happy. If you know of anything preferable to
these maxims, candidly communicate it: if not, with me
make use of these.

EPISTLE VII

TO MAECENAS

He apologises to Maecenas for his long absence from Rome ; and acknow-
ledges his favours to him in such a manner, as to declare liberty
preferable to all other blessings.

HAVING promised you that I would be in the country but five
days, false to my word, I am absent the whole of August.
But, if you wTould have me live sound and in perfect health,
the indulgence which you grant me, Maecenas, when I am ill,
you will grant me [also] when I afraid of being ill: while
[the time of] the first figs, and the [autumnal] heat graces
the undertaker with his black attendants ; while every father
and mother turn pale with fear for their children; and while
over-acted diligence, and attendance at the forum, bring on

226 Horace

fevers and unseal wills. But, if the winter shall scatter
snow upon the Alban fields,, your poet will go down to the
sea-side, and be careful of himself, and read bundled up;
you, dear friend, he will revisit with the zephyrs, if you will
give him leave, and with the first swallow.

You have made me rich, not in the manner in which the
Calabrian host bids [his guest] eat of his pears. " Eat, pray,
sir." " I have had enough." " But take away with you
what quantity you will." " You are very kind." " You will
carry them no disagreeable presents to your little children."
" I am as much obliged by your offer, as if I were sent away
loaded." " As you please: you leave them to be devoured
to-day by the hogs." The prodigal and fool gives away what
he despises and hates ; the reaping of favours like these has
produced, and ever will produce, ungrateful men. A good
and wise man professes himself ready to do kindness to the
deserving ; and yet is not ignorant, how true coins differ from
lupines. I will also show myself deserving of the honour of
being grateful. But if you would not have me depart any
whither, you must restore my vigorous constitution, the black
locks [that grew] on my narrow forehead : you must restore
to me the power of talking pleasantly: you must restore to
me the art of laughing with becoming ease, and whining over
my liquor at the jilting of the wanton Cynara.

A thin field-mouse had by chance crept through a narrow
cranny into a chest of grain; and, having feasted itself, in
vain attempted to come out again, with its body now stuffed
full. To which a weasel at a distance cries, " If you would
escape thence, repair lean to the narrow hole which you
entered lean." If I be addressed with this similitude, I resign
all ; neither do I, sated with delicacies, cry up the calm repose
of the vulgar, nor would I change my liberty and ease for
the riches of the Arabians. You have often commended
me for being modest; when present you heard [from me the
appellations of] king and father, nor am I a word more sparing
in your absence. Try whether I can cheerfully restore what
you have given me. Not amiss [answered] Telemachus, son
of the patient Ulysses : " The country of Ithaca is not proper
for horses, as being neither extended into champaign fields,
nor abounding with much grass : Atrides, I will leave behind

The Epistles — Book I 227

me your gifts, [which are] more proper for yourself." Small
things best suit the small. No longer does imperial Rome
please me, but unfrequented Tibur, and unwarlike Tarentum.

Philip, active and strong, and famed for pleading causes,
while returning from his employment about the eighth hour,
and now of a great age, complaining that the Carinae were
too far distant from the forum; spied, as they say, a person
clean shaven in a barber's empty shed, composedly paring
his own nails with a knife. " Demetrius," [says he,] (this
slave dexterously received his master's orders,) " go inquire,
and bring me word from what house, who he is, of what
fortune, who is his father, or who is his patron." He goes,
returns, and relates, that "he is by name Vulteius Maena,
an auctioneer, of small fortune, of a character perfectly unex-
ceptionable, that he could upon occasion ply busily, and take
his ease, and get, and spend; delighting in humble com-
panions and a settled dwelling, and (after business ended) in
the shows, and the Campus Martius."

" I would inquire of him himself all this, which you report;
bid him come to sup with me." Maena cannot believe it:
he wonders silently within himself. Why many words ? He
answers, " It is kind." " Can he deny me? ' " The rascal
denies, and disregards or dreads you." In the morning
Philip comes unawares upon Vulteius, as he is selling brokery-
goods to the tunic'd populace, and salutes him first. He
pleads to Philip his employment, and the confinement of his
business, in excuse for not having waited upon him in the
morning; and afterwards, for not seeing him first. " Expect
that I will excuse you on this condition, that you sup with
me to-day." " As you please." " Then you will come after
the ninth hour: now go, strenuously increase your stock."
When they were come to supper, having discoursed of things
of a public and private nature, at length he is dismissed to go
to sleep. When he had often been seen to repair like a fish
to the concealed hook, in the morning a client, and now as a
constant guest; he is desired to accompany [Philip] to his
country-seat near the city, at the proclaiming of the Latin
festivals. Mounted on horseback, he ceases not to cry up the
Sabine fields and air. Philip sees it, and smiles : and, while
he is seeking amusement and diversion for himself out of

228 Horace

everything, while he makes him a present of seven thousand
sesterces, and promises to lend him seven thousand more:
he persuades him to purchase a farm: he purchases one.
That I may not detain you with a long story beyond what is
necessary, from a smart cit he becomes a drownright rustic,
and prates of nothing but furrows and vineyards; prepares
his elms ; is ready to die with eager diligence, and grows old
through a passionate desire of possessing. But when his
sheep were lost by theft, his goats by a distemper, his harvest
deceived his hopes, his ox was killed with ploughing; fretted
with these losses, at midnight he snatches his nag, and in a
passion makes his way to Philip's house. Whom as soon as
Philip beheld, rough and unshaven, " Vulteius," said he,
*' you seem to me to be too laborious and earnest." " In
truth, patron," replied he, " you would call me a wretch, if
you would apply to me my true name. I beseech and con-
jure you then, by your genius and your right hand and your
household gods, restore me to my former life." As soon as a
man perceives how much the things he has discarded excel
those which he pursues, let him return in time, and resume
those which he relinquished.

It is a truth, that every one ought to measure himself by
his own proper foot and standard.

EPISTLE VIII

TO CELSUS ALBINOVANUS

That he was neither well in body, nor in mind; that Celsus should bear
his prosperity with moderation.

MY muse at my request, give joy and wish success to Celsus
Albinovanus, the attendant and the secretary of Nero. If he
shall inquire, what I am doing, say that I, though promising
many and fine things, yet live neither well [according to the
rules of strict philosophy], nor agreeably; not because the
hail has crushed my vines, and the heat has nipped my olives ;
nor because my herds are distempered in distant pastures;
but because, less sound in my mind than in my whole body, I

The Epistles — Book I 229

will hear nothing, learn nothing which may relieve me,
diseased as I am; that I am displeased with my faithful
physicians, am angry with my friends for being industrious
to rouse me from a fatal lethargy; that I pursue things
which have done me hurt, avoid things which I am persuaded
would be of service, inconstant as the wind, at Rome am in
love with Tibur, at Tibur with Rome. After this, inquire
how he does; how he manages his business and himself; how
he pleases the young prince, and his attendants. If he shall
say, well; first congratulate him, then remember to whisper
this admonition in his ears: As you, Celsus, bear your for-
tune, so will we bear you.

EPISTLE IX

TO CLAUDIUS TIBERIUS NERO
He recommends Septimius to him.

OF all the men in the world Septimius surely, 0 Claudius,
knows how much regard you have for me. For when he
requests, and by his entreaties in a manner compels me, to
undertake to recommend and introduce him to you, as one
worthy of the confidence and the household of Nero, who is
wont to choose deserving objects, thinking I discharge the
office of an intimate friend ; he sees and knows better than
myself what I can do. I said a great deal, indeed, in order
that I might come off excused : but I was afraid, lest I should
be suspected to pretend my interest was less than it is, to be
a dissembler of my own power, and ready to serve myself
alone. So, avoiding the reproach of a greater fault, I have
put in for the prize of town -bred confidence. If then
you approve of modesty being superseded at the pressing
entreaties of a friend, enrol this person among your retinue,
and believe him to be brave and good.

230

Horace

EPISTLE X

TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS

He praises a country before a city life, as more agreeable to nature,

and more friendly to liberty.

WE, who love the country, salute Fuscus that loves the town ;
in this point alone [being] much unlike, but in other things
almost twins, of brotherly sentiments : whatever one denies,
the other too [denies] : we assent together: like old and con-
stant doves, you keep the nest; I praise the rivulets, the
rocks overgrown with moss, and the groves of the delightful
country. Do you ask why? I live and reign, as soon as I
have quitted those things which you extol to the skies with
joyful applause. And, like a priest's fugitive slave, I reject
luscious wafers; I desire plain bread, which is more agree-
able now than honied cakes.

If we must live suitably to nature, and a plot of ground is
to be first sought to raise a house upon, do you know any
place preferable to the blissful country? Is there any spot
where the winters are more temperate ? where a more agree-
able breeze moderates the rage of the Dog-star, and the season
of the Lion, when once that furious sign has received the
scorching sun? Is there a place where envious care less dis-
turbs our slumbers ? Is the grass inferior in smell or beauty
to the Libyan pebbles? Is the water, which strives to burst
the lead in the streets, purer than that which trembles in
murmurs down its sloping channel? Why, trees are nursed
along the variegated columns [of the city]; and that house
is commended, which has a prospect of distant fields. You
may drive out nature with a fork, yet still she will return,
and, insensibly victorious, will break through [men's] im-
proper disgusts.

Not he who is unable to compare the fleeces that drink up
the dye of Aquinum with the Sidonian purple, will receive a
more certain damage and nearer to his marrow, than he who
shall not be able to distinguish false from true. He who has

The Epistles — Book I 231

been overjoyed by prosperity, will be shocked by a change of
circumstances. If you admire anything [greatly], you will
be unwilling to resign it. Avoid great things ; under a mean
roof one may outstrip kings, and the favourites of kings, in
one's life.

The stag, superior in fight, drove the horse from the
common pastures, till the latter, worsted in the long contest,
implored the aid of man and received the bridle ; but after he
had parted an exulting conqueror from his enemy, he could
not shake the rider from his back, nor the bit from his mouth.
So he who, afraid of poverty, forfeits his liberty, more valu-
able than mines, avaricious wretch, shall carry a master, and
shall eternally be a slave, for not knowing how to use a little.
When a man's condition does not suit him, it will be as a shoe
at any time ; which, if too big for his foot, will throw him
down; if too little, will pinch him. [If you are] cheerful
under your lot, Aristius, you will live wisely; nor shall you
let me go uncorrected, if I appear to scrape together more
than enough, and not have done. Accumulated money is the
master or slave of each owner, and ought rather to follow
than to lead the twisted rope.

These I dictated to thee behind the mouldering temple of
Vacuna; in all other things happy, except that thou wast
not with me.

EPISTLE XI

TO BULLATIUS

Endeavouring to recall him back to Rome from Asia, whither he had
retreated through his weariness of the civil wars, he advises him
to ease the disquietude of his mind not by the length of his journey,
but by forming his mind into a right disposition.

WHAT, Bullatius, do you think of Chios, and of celebrated
Lesbos ? What of neat Samos ? What of Sardis, the royal
residence of Croesus? What of Smyrna, and Colophon?
Are they greater or less than their fame ? Are they all con-
temptible in comparison of the Campus Martius and the river
Tiber? Does one of Attalus' cities enter into your wish?

232 Horace

Or do you admire Lebedus, through a surfeit of the sea and of
travelling? You know what Lebedus is; it is a more unfre-
quented town than Gabii and Fidenae ; yet there would I be
willing to live ; and, forgetful of my friends and forgotten by
them,, view from land Neptune raging at a distance. But
neither he who comes to Rome from Capua, bespattered with
rain and mire,, would wish to live in an inn; nor does he, who
has contracted a cold, cry up stoves and bagnios as com-
pletely furnishing a happy life : nor, if the violent south wind
has tossed you in the deep, will you therefore sell your ship on
the other side of the Aegean Sea. On a man sound in mind
Rhodes and beautiful Mitylene have such an effect, as a thick
cloak at the summer solstice, thin drawers in snowy weather,
[bathing in] the Tiber in winter, a fire in the month of August.
While it is permitted, and fortune preserves a benign aspect,
let absent Samos, and Chios, and Rhodes, be commended by
you here at Rome. Whatever prosperous hour Providence
bestows upon you, receive it with a thankful hand : and defer
not [the enjoyment of] the comforts of life, till a year be at
an end; that, in whatever place you are, you may say you
have lived with satisfaction. For if reason and discretion,
not a place that commands a prospect of the wide-extended
sea, remove our cares; they change their climate, not their
disposition, who run beyond the sea: a busy idleness harasses
us : by ships and by chariots we seek to live happily. WThat
you seek is here [at home], is at Ulubrae, if a just temper of
mind is not wanting to you.

EPISTLE XII

TO ICCIUS

Under the appearance of praising the man's parsimony, he archly
ridicules it; introduces Grosphus to him, and concludes with a
few articles of news concerning the Roman affairs.

0 Iccius, if you rightly enjoy the Sicilian products, which
you collect for Agrippa, it is not possible that greater afflu-
ence can be given you by Jove. Away with complaints ! for
that man is by no means poor, who has the use of everything

The Epistles — Book I 233

he wants. If it is well with your belly, your back, and your
feet, regal wealth can add nothing greater. If perchance
abstemious amidst profusion you live upon salad and shell-
fish, you will continue to live in such a manner, even if
presently fortune shall flow upon you in a river of gold : either
because money cannot change the natural disposition, or
because it is your opinion that all things are inferior to virtue
alone. Can we wonder, that cattle feed upon the meadows
and corn-fields of Democritus, while his active soul is abroad
[travelling] without his body ? When you, amidst such great
impurity and infection of profit, have no taste for anything
trivial, but still mind [only] sublime things; what causes
restrain the sea, what rules the year, whether the stars spon-
taneously or by direction wander about and are erratic, what
throws obscurity on the moon, and what brings out her orb,
what is the intention and power of the jarring harmony of
things, whether Empedocles or the clever Stertinius be in the
wrong ?

However, whether you murder fishes, or onions and garlic,
receive Pompeius Grosphus; and, if he asks any favour, grant
it him frankly: Grosphus will desire nothing but what is
right and just. The proceeds of friendship are cheap, when
good men want anything.

But that you may not be ignorant in what situation the
Roman affairs are ; the Cantabrians have fallen by the valour
of Agrippa, the Armenians by that of Claudius Nero:
Phraates has, suppliant on his knees, admitted the laws and
power of Caesar. Golden plenty has poured out the fruits
of Italy from a full horn.

EPISTLE XIII

TO VINNIUS ASINA

Horace cautions him to present his poems to Augustus at a proper
opportunity, and with due decorum.

As on your setting out I frequently and fully gave you in-
structions, Vinnius, that you would present these volumes to
Augustus sealed up if he shall be in health, if in spirits,
finally, if he shall ask for them : do not offend out of zeal to

234

Horace

me, and industriously bring an odium upon my books [by
being] an agent of violent officiousness. If haply the heavy
load of my paper should gall you, cast it from you rather
than throw down your pack in a rough manner where you are
directed to carry it, and turn your paternal name of Asina
into a jest, and make yourself a common story. Make use of
your vigour over the hills,, the rivers, and the fens. As soon
as you have achieved your enterprise, and arrived there, you
must keep your burden in this position; lest you happen to
carry my bundle of books under your arm, as a clown does a
lamb, or as drunken Pyrrhia [in the play does] the balls of
pilfered wool, or as a tribe-guest his slippers with his fuddling-
cap. You must not tell publicly how you sweated with
carrying those verses, which may detain the eyes and ears
of Caesar. Solicited with much entreaty, do your best.
Finally, get you gone, farewell ; take care you do not stumble,
and break my orders.

EPISTLE XIV

TO HIS STEWARD

He upbraids his levity for contemning a country life, which had been
his choice, and being eager to return to Rome.

STEWARD of my woodlands and little farm that restores me
to myself, which you despise, [though formerly] inhabited by
five families, and wont to send five good senators to Varia:
let us try, whether I with more fortitude pluck the thorns out
of my mind, or you out of my ground : and whether Horace
or his estate be in a better condition.

Though my affection and solicitude for Lamia, mourning
for his brother, lamenting inconsolably for his brother's loss,
detain me ; nevertheless my heart and soul carry me thither,
and long to break through those barriers that obstruct my
way. I pronounce him the happy man who dwells in the
country, you him [who lives] in the city. He to whom his
neighbour's lot is agreeable, must of consequence dislike his

The Epistles — Book I 235

own. Each of us is a fool for unjustly blaming the innocent
place. The mind is in fault, which never escapes from itself.
When you were a drudge at every one's beck, you tacitly
prayed for the country: and now, [being appointed] my
steward, you wish for the city, the shows, and the baths.
You know I am consistent with myself, and loth to go, when-
ever disagreeable business drags me to Rome. We are not
admirers of the same things: hence you and I disagree. For
what you reckon desert and inhospitable wilds, he who is of
my way of thinking calls delightful places ; and dislikes what
you esteem pleasant. The bagnio, I perceive, and the greasy
tavern raise your inclination for the city: and this, because
my little spot will sooner yield frankincense and pepper than
grapes ; nor is there a tavern near, which can supply you with
wine; nor a minstrel harlot, to whose thrumming you may
dance, cumbersome to the ground : and yet you exercise with
plough-shares the fallows that have been a long while un-
touched, you take due care of the ox when unyoked, and give
him his fill with leaves stripped [from the boughs]. The
sluice gives an additional trouble to an idle fellow, which, if a
shower fall, must be taught by many a mound to spare the
sunny meadow.

Come now, attend to what hinders our agreeing. [Me,]
whom fine garments and dressed locks adorned, whom you
know to have pleased venal Cynara without a present, whom
[you have seen] quaff flowing Falernian from noon — a short
supper [now] delights, and a nap upon the green turf by the
stream side : nor is it a shame to have been gay, but not to
break off that gaiety. There there is no one who reduces
my possessions with envious eye, nor poisons them with
obscure malice and biting slander; the neighbours smile at
me removing clods and stones. You had rather be munch-
ing your daily allowance with the slaves in town; you
earnestly pray to be of the number of these: [while my]
cunning foot-boy envies you the use of the firing, the flocks,
and the garden. The lazy ox wishes for the horse's trappings :
the horse wishes to go to plough. But I shall be of opinion,
that each of them ought contentedly to exercise that art
which he understands.

236 Horace

EPISTLE XV

TO C. NUMONIUS VALA

Preparing to go to the baths either at Velia or Salernum, he inquires
after the healthfulness and agreeableness of the places.

IT is your part, Vala, to write to me (and mine to give credit
to your information) what sort of a winter it is at Velia, what
the air at Salernum, what kind of inhabitants the country
consists of, and how the road is (for Antonius Musa [pro-
nounces] Baiae to be of no service to me; yet makes me
obnoxious to the place, when I am bathed in cold water
even in the midst of the frost [by his prescription]. In truth,
the village murmurs at their myrtle-groves being deserted,
and the sulphureous waters, said to expel lingering disorders
from the nerves, despised ; envying those invalids, who have
the courage to expose their head and breast to the Clusian
springs, and retire to Gabii and [such] cold countries. My
course must be altered, and my horse driven beyond his
accustomed stages. Whither are you going? will the angry
rider say, pulling in the left-hand rein, I am not bound for
Cumae or Baiae: — but the horse's ear is in the bit). [You
must inform me likewise,] which of the two people is sup-
ported by the greatest abundance of corn ; whether they drink
rain-water collected [in reservoirs], or from perennial wells
of never-failing water (for as to the wine of that part, I give
myself no trouble; at my country-seat I can dispense and
bear with anything: but when I have arrived at a sea-port, I
insist upon that which is generous and mellow, such as may
drive away my cares, such as may flow into my veins and
animal spirits with a rich supply of hope, such as may supply
me with words, such as may make me appear young to my
Lucanian mistress). Which tract of land produces most
hares, which boars : which seas harbour the most fishes and
sea-urchins, that I may be able to return home thence in
good case, and like a Phaeacian.

When Maenius, having bravely made away with his
paternal and maternal estates, began to be accounted a merry

The Epistles — Book I 237

fellow — a vagabond droll, who had no certain place of living ;
who, when dinnerless, could not distinguish a fellow-citizen
from an enemy; unmerciful in forging any scandal against
any person; the pest, and hurricane, and gulf of the market;
whatever he could get, he gave to his greedy gut. This
fellow, when he had extorted little or nothing from the
favourers of his iniquity, or those that dreaded it, would eat
up whole dishes of coarse tripe and lamb's entrails ; as much
as would have sufficed three bears ; then truly, [like] reformer
Bestius, would he say, that the bellies of extravagant fellows
ought to be branded with a red-hot iron. The same man
[however], when he had reduced to smoke and ashes whatever
more considerable booty he had gotten ; 'Faith, said he, I do
not wonder if some persons eat up their estates ; since nothing
is better than a fat thrush, nothing finer than a large sow's
paunch. In fact, I am just such another myself; for, when
matters are a little deficient, I commend the snug and homely
fare, of sufficient resolution amidst mean provisions; but, if
anything be offered better and more delicate, I, the same
individual, cry out, that ye are wise and alone live well, whose
wealth and estate are conspicuous from the elegance of your
villas.

EPISTLE XVI

TO QUINCTIUS

He describes to Quinctius the form, situation, and advantages of his
country-house: then declares that probity consists in the con-
sciousness of good works- liberty, in probity.

ASK me not, my best Quinctius, whether my farm maintains
its master with corn-fields, or enriches him with olives, or
with fruits, or meadow-land, or the elm-tree clothed with
vines : the shape and situation of my ground shall be described
to you at large.

There is a continued range of mountains, except where
they are separated by a shadowy vale ; but in such a manner,
that the approaching sun views it on the right side, and

238 Horace

departing in his flying car warms the left. You would com-
mend its temperature. What? If my [very] briers produce
in abundance the ruddy cornels and damsens? If my oak
and holm-tree accommodate my cattle with plenty of acorns,
and their master with a copious shade ? You would say that
Tarentum, brought nearer [to Rome], shone in its verdant
beauty. A fountain too, deserving to give name to a river.,
insomuch that Hebrus does not surround Thrace more cool or
more limpid, flows salubrious to the infirm head, salubrious
to the bowels. These sweet, yea now (if you will credit me)
these delightful retreats preserve me to you in a state of health
[even] in the September season.

You live well, if you take care to support the character
which you bear. Long ago, all Rome has proclaimed you
happy: but I am apprehensive, lest you should give more
credit concerning yourself to any one than yourself; and lest
you should imagine a man happy, who differs from the wise
and good ; or, because the people pronounces you sound and
perfectly well, lest you dissemble the lurking fever at meal-
times, until a trembling seize your greased hands. The false
modesty of fools conceals ulcers, [rather than have them
cured]. If any one should mention battles which you had
fought by land and sea, and in such expressions as these
should soothe your listening ears; " May Jupiter, who con-
sults the safety both of you and of the city, keep it in doubt,
whether the people be more solicitous for your welfare, or you
for the people's;' you might perceive these encomiums to
belong [only] to Augustus: when you suffer yourself to be
termed a philosopher, and one of a refined life ; say, pr'ythee,
would you answer [to these appellations] in your own name ?
To be sure — I like to be called a wise and good man, as well
as you. He who gave this character to-day, if he will, can
take it away to-morrow : as the same people, if they have con-
ferred the consulship on an unworthy person, may take it
away from him : ' Resign; it is ours," they cry: I do resign
it accordingly, and chagrined withdraw. Thus if they should
call me rogue, deny me to be temperate, assert that I had
strangled my own father with a halter; shall I be stung, and
change colour at these false reproaches ? Whom does false
honour delight, or lying calumny terrify, except the vicious

The Epistles — Book I 239

and sickly-minded? Who then is a good man? He who
observes the decrees of the senate, the laws and rules of
justice; by whose arbitration many and important disputes
are decided ; by whose surety private property, and by whose
testimony causes are safe. Yet [perhaps] his own family
and all the neighbourhood observe this man, specious in a
fair outside, [to be] polluted within. If a slave should say to
me, " I have not committed a robbery, nor run away : ' " You
have your reward ; you are not galled with the lash," I reply.
" I have not killed any man: " " You shall not [therefore]
feed the carrion crows on the cross." I am a good man, and
thrifty : — your Sabine friend denies, and contradicts the fact.
For the wary wolf dreads the pitfall, and the hawk the sus-
pected snares, and the kite the concealed hook. The good,
[on the contrary,] hate to sin from the love of virtue ; you will
commit no crime merely for the fear of punishment. Let
there be a prospect of escaping, you will confound sacred and
profane things together. For, when from a thousand bushels
of beans you filch one, the loss in that case to me is less, but
not your villainy. The honest man, whom every forum and
every court of justice looks upon with reverence, whenever he
makes an atonement to the gods with a swine or an ox ; after
he has pronounced in a clear distinguishable voice, " 0 father
Janus, O Apollo ; " moves his lips as one afraid of being heard ;
" 0 fair Laverna, put it in my power to deceive; grant me
the appearance of a just and upright man: throw a cloud of
night over my frauds." I do not see how a covetous man
can be better, how more free than a slave, when he stoops
down for the sake of a penny, stuck in the road. For he who
will be covetous, will also be anxious : but he that lives in a
state of anxiety, will never in my estimation be free. He
who is always in a hurry, and immersed in the study of aug-
menting his fortune, has lost the arms, and deserted the post
of virtue. Do not kill your captive, if you can sell him : he
will serve you advantageously: let him, being inured to
drudgery, feed [your cattle], and plough; let him go to sea,
and winter in the midst of the waves; let him be of use to
the market, and import corn and provisions. A good and
wise man will have courage to say, " Pentheus, king of
Thebes, what indignities will you compel me to suffer and

240 Horace

endure. ' I will take away your goods : ' my cattle, I suppose,
my land, my movables and money : you may take them. £ I
will confine you with hand-cuffs and fetters under a merciless
gaoler.' The deity himself will discharge me, whenever I
please." In my opinion, this is his meaning; I will die.
Death is the ultimate boundary of human matters.

EPISTLE XVII

TO SCAEVA

That a life of business is preferable to a private and inactive one; the
friendship of great men is a laudable acquisition, yet their favours
are ever to be solicited with modesty and caution.

THOUGH, Scaeva, you have sufficient prudence of your own,
and well know how to demean yourself towards your superiors ;
[yet] hear what are the sentiments of your old crony, who
himself still requires teaching, just as if a blind man should
undertake to show the way: however see, if even I can
advance anything, which you may think worth your while
to adopt as your own.

If pleasant rest, and sleep till seven o'clock, delight you;
if dust and the rumbling of wheels, if the tavern offend you ;
I shall order you off for Ferentinum. For joys are not the
property of the rich alone: nor has he lived ill, who at his
birth and at his death has passed unnoticed. If you are
disposed to be of service to your friends, and to treat yourself
with somewhat more indulgence, you, being poor, must pay
your respects to the great. Aristippus, if he could dine to
his satisfaction on herbs, would never frequent [the tables] of
the great. If he who blames me, [replies Aristippus,] knew
how to live with the great, he would scorn his vegetables.
Tell me, which maxim and conduct of the two you approve;
or, since you are my junior, hear the reason why Aristippus'
opinion is preferable; for thus, as they report, he baffled the
snarling cynic: ' I play the buffoon for my own advantage,
you [to please] the populace. This [conduct of mine] is
better and far more honourable; that a horse may carry, and

The Epistles — Book I 241

a great man feed me, pay court to the great: you beg for
refuse, an inferior to the [poor] giver; though you pretend
you are in want of nothing." As for Aristippus, every com-
plexion of life, every station and circumstance sat gracefully
upon him, aspiring in general to greater things, yet equal to
the present : on the other hand, I shall be much surprised, if
a contrary way of life should become [this cynic], whom
obstinacy clothes with a double rag. The one will not wait
for his purple robe ; but dressed in anything, will go through
the most frequented places, and without awkwardness sup-
port either character : the other will shun the cloak wrought
at Miletus with greater aversion than [the bite of] dog or
viper: he will die with cold, unless you restore him his ragged
garment: restore it, and let him live like a fool as he is. To
perform exploits, and show the citizens their foes in chains,
reaches the throne of Jupiter, and aims at celestial honours.
To have been acceptable to the great, is not the last of praises.
It is not every man's lot to gain Corinth. He [prudently]
sat still, who was afraid lest he should not succeed : be it so ;
what then? Was it not bravely done by him, who carried
his point? Either here therefore, or nowhere, is what we
are investigating. The one dreads the burden, as too much
for a pusillanimous soul and a weak constitution ; the other
undertakes, and carries it through. Either virtue is an
empty name, or the man who makes the experiment de-
servedly claims the honour and the reward.

Those who mention nothing of their poverty before their
lord, will gain more than the importunate. There is a great
difference between modestly accepting, or seizing by violence.
But this was the principle and source of everything, [which
I alleged]. He who says, " My sister is without a portion,
my mother poor, and my estate neither saleable nor sufficient
for my support," cries out [in effect], " Give me a morsel of
bread: " another whines, " And let the platter be carved out
for me with half a share of the bounty." But if the crow
could have fed in silence, he would have had better fare, and
much less of quarrelling and of envy.

A companion taken [by his lord] to Brundusium, or the
pleasant Surrentum, who complains of the ruggedness of the
roads and the bitter cold and rains, or laments that his chest
K5'5

242

Horace

is broken open and his provisions stolen ; resembles the well-
known tricks of an harlot, weeping frequently for her neck-
lace, frequently for a garter forcibly taken from her; so that
at length no credit is given to her real griefs and losses. Nor
does he, who has been once ridiculed in the streets, care to
lift up a vagrant with a [pretended] broken leg; though
abundant tears should flow from him; though, swearing by
holy Osiris, he says, " Believe me, I do not impose upon you
0 cruel, take up the lame." " Seek out for a stranger,"
cries the hoarse neighbourhood.

EPISTLE XVIII

TO LOLLIUS

He treats at large upon the cultivation of the favour of great men; and
concludes with a few words concerning the acquirement of peace
of mind.

IF I rightly know your temper, most ingenuous Lollius, you
will beware of imitating a flatterer, while you profess your-
self a friend. As a matron is unlike and of a different aspect
from a strumpet, so will a true friend differ from the toad-
eater. There is an opposite vice to this, rather the greater
[of the two]; a clownish, inelegant, and disagreeable blunt-
ness, which would recommend itself by an unshaven face and
black teeth; while it desires to be termed pure freedom and
true sincerity. Virtue is the medium of the two vices; and
equally remote from either. The one is over-prone to com-
plaisance, and a jester of the lowest couch, he so reverences
the rich man's nod, so repeats his speeches, and catches up
his falling words ; that you would take him for a school-boy
saying his lesson to a rigid master, or a player acting an under-
part : another often wrangles about a goat's hair, and armed
engages for any trifle: " That I, truly, should not have the
first credit ; and that I should not boldly speak aloud, what
is my real sentiment — [upon such terms,] another life would
be of no value." But what is the subject of this controversy ?
Why, whether [the gladiator] Castor or Dolichos be the

The Epistles — Book I 243

cleverer fellow; whether the Minucian, or the Appian, be the
better road to Brundusium ?

Him whom pernicious lust, whom quick-despatching dice
strips, whom vanity dresses out and perfumes beyond his
abilities, whom insatiable hunger and thirst after money,
whom a shame and aversion to poverty possess, his rich
friend (though furnished with a half-score more vices) hates
and abhors ; or if he does not hate, governs him ; and, like a
pious mother, would have him more wise and virtuous than
himself; and says what is nearly true: " My riches (think
not to emulate me) admit of extravagance; your income is
but small: a scanty gown becomes a prudent dependant:
cease to vie with me." Whomsoever Eutrapelus had a mind
to punish, he presented with costly garments. For now [said
he] happy in his fine clothes, he will assume new schemes and
hopes; he will sleep till daylight; prefer a harlot to his
honest calling : run into debt ; and at last become a gladiator,
or drive a gardener's hack for hire.

Do not you at any time pry into his secrets; and keep close
what is intrusted to you, though put to the torture, by wine
or passion. Neither commend your own inclinations, nor
find fault with those of others; nor, when he is disposed to
hunt, do you make verses. For by such means the amity of
the twins, Zethus and Amphion, broke off; till the lyre, dis-
liked by the austere brother, was silent. Amphion is thought
to have given way to his brother's humours; so do you yield
to the gentle dictates of your friend in power : as often as he
leads forth his dogs into the fields and his cattle laden with
Aetolian nets, arise and lay aside the peevishness of your
unmannerly muse, that you may sup together on the delicious
fare purchased by your labour: and exercise habitual to the
manly Romans, of service to their fame and life and limbs:
especially when you are in health, and are able either to excel
the dog in swiftness, or the boar in strength. Add [to
this], that there is no one who handles martial weapons more
gracefully. You well know, with what acclamations of the
spectators you sustain the combats in the Campus Martius : in
fine, as yet a boy, you endured a bloody campaign and the
Cantabrian wars, beneath a commander, who is now replacing
the standards [recovered] from the Parthian temples: and,

244 Horace

if anything is wanting, assigns it to the Roman arms. And
that you may not withdraw yourself, and inexcusably be
absent; though you are careful to do nothing out of measure
and moderation, yet you sometimes amuse yourself at your
country-seat. The [mock] fleet divides the little boats [into
two squadrons]: the Actian sea-fight is represented by boys
under your direction in a hostile form: your brother is the
foe, your lake the Adriatic; till rapid victory crowns the one
or the other with her bays. Your patron, who will perceive
that you come into his taste, will applaud your sports with
both his hands.

Moreover, that I may advise you, (if in aught you stand in
need of an adviser,) take great circumspection what you say
to any man, and to whom. Avoid an inquisitive impertinent,
for such a one is also a tattler, nor do open ears faithfully
retain what is intrusted to them; and a word, once sent
abroad, flies irrevocably.

Let no slave within the marble threshold of your honoured
friend inflame your heart; lest the owner of the beloved
damsel gratify you with so trifling a present, or, mortifying
[to your wishes], torment you [with a refusal].

Look over and over again [into the merits of] such a one,
as you recommend ; lest afterwards the faults of others strike
you with shame. We are sometimes imposed upon, and now
and then introduce an unworthy person. Wherefore, once
deceived, forbear to defend one who suffers by his own bad
conduct; but protect one whom you entirely know, and with
confidence guard him with your patronage, if false accusations
attack him: who being bitten with the tooth of calumny, do
you not perceive that the same danger is threatening you?
For it is your own concern, when the adjoining wall is on
fire : and flames neglected are wont to gain strength.

The attending of the levee of a friend in power seems de-
lightful to the inexperienced; the experienced dreads it.
Do you, while your vessel is in the main, ply your business,
lest a changing gale bear you back again.

The melancholy hate the merry, and the jocose the melan-
choly; the volatile [dislike] the sedate, the indolent the stir-
ring and vivacious: the quaffers of pure Falernian from
midnight hate one who shirks his turn; notwithstanding

The Epistles — Book I 245

you swear you are afraid of the fumes of wine by night.
Dispel gloominess from your forehead: the modest man
generally carries the look of a sullen one; the reserved, of a
churl.

In everything you must read and consult the learned, by
what means you may be enabled to pass your life in an agree-
able manner: that insatiable desire may not agitate and
torment you, nor the fear and hope of things that are but of
little account: whether learning acquires virtue, or nature
bestows it? What lessens cares, what may endear you to
yourself ? What perfectly renders the temper calm ; honour,
or enticing lucre, or a secret passage and the path of an un-
noticed life?

For my part, as often as the cooling rivulet Digentia
refreshes me (Digentia, of which Mandela drinks, a village
wrinkled with cold); what, my friend, do you think are my
sentiments, what do you imagine I pray for? Why, that my
fortune may remain as it is now; or even [if it be something]
less: and that I may live to myself, what remains of my time,
if the gods will that aught do remain : that I may have a good
store of books, and corn provided for the year; lest I fluctuate
in suspense of each uncertain hour. But it is sufficient to
sue to Jove [for these externals], which he gives and takes
away [at pleasure]; let him grant life, let him grant wealth:
I myself will provide equanimity of temper.

EPISTLE XIX

TO MAECENAS

He shows the folly of some persons, who would imitate; and the envy
of others, who would censure him.

0 LEARNED Maecenas, if you believe old Cratinus, no verses
which are written by water-drinkers can please, or be long-
lived. Ever since Bacchus enlisted the brain-sick poets
among the Satyrs and the Fauns, the sweet muses have
usually smelt of wine in the morning. Homer, by his ex-
cessive praises of wine, is convicted as a booser: father

246 Horace

Ennius himself never sallied forth to sing of arms, unless in
drink. " I will condemn the sober to the bar and the praetor's
bench,, and deprive the abstemious of the power of singing."

As soon as he gave out this edict, the poets did not cease
to contend in midnight cups, and to smell of them by day.
What ! If any savage, by a stern countenance and bare feet,
and the texture of a scanty gown, should imitate Cato; will
he represent the virtue and morals of Cato? The tongue
that imitated Timagenes was the destruction of the Moor,
while he affected to be humorous, and attempted to seem
eloquent. The example that is imitable in its faults, deceives
[the ignorant]. Soh! if I was to grow pale by accident,
[these poetasters] would drink the blood-thinning cumin.
O ye imitators, ye servile herd, how often your bustlings have
stirred my bile, how often my mirth ;

I was the original, who set my free footsteps upon the
vacant sod; I trod not in the steps of others. He who
depends upon himself, as leader, commands the swarm. I
first showed to Italy the Parian iambics: following the
numbers and spirit of Archilochus, but not his subject and
style, which afflicted Lycambes. You must not, however,
crown me with a more sparing wreath, because I was afraid to
alter the measure and structure of his verse: for the manly
Sappho governs her muse by the measures of Archilochus,
so does Alcaeus; but differing from him in the materials and
disposition [of his lines], neither does he seek for a father-in-
law whom he may defame with his fatal lampoons, nor does
he tie a rope for his betrothed spouse in scandalous verse.
Him too, never celebrated by any other tongue, I the Roman
lyrist first made known. It delights me, as I bring out new
productions, to be perused by the eyes, and held in the hands,
of the ingenuous.

Would you know why the ungrateful reader extols and is
fond of my works at home, unjustly decries them without
doors? I hunt not after the applause of the inconstant
vulgar, at the expense of entertainments, and for the bribe
of a worn-out coat: I am not an auditor of noble writers, nor
a vindictive reciter, nor condescend to court the tribes and
desks of the grammarians. Hence are these tears. If I say
that ' I am ashamed to repeat my worthless writings to

The Epistles — Book I 247

crowded theatres, and give an air of consequence to trifles: '
" You ridicule us/' says [one of them], " and you reserve those
pieces for the ears of Jove: you are confident that it is you
alone who can distil the poetic honey, beautiful in your own
eyes." At these words I am afraid to turn up my nose; and
lest I should be torn by the acute nails of my adversary,
" This place is disagreeable," I cry out, " and I demand a
prorogation of the contest." For contest is wont to beget
trembling emulation and strife, and strife cruel enmities and
funereal war.

EPISTLE XX

TO HIS BOOK

In vain he endeavours to restrain his book, desirous of getting abroad;
tells it what trouble it is to undergo, and imparts some things to
be said of him to posterity.

You seem, my book, to look wistfully at Janus and Vertum-
nus; to the end that you may be set out for sale, neatly
polished by the pumice-stone of the Sosii. You hate keys
and seals, which are agreeable to a modest [volume]; you
grieve that you are shown but to a few, and extol public
places; though educated in another manner. Away with
you whither you are so solicitous of going down : there will be
no returning for you, when you are once sent out. " Wretch
that I am, what have I done? What did I want? " — you
will say : when any one gives you ill treatment, and you know
that you will be squeezed into small compass, as soon as the
eager reader is satiated. But, if the augur be not prejudiced
by resentment of your error, you shall be caressed at Rome
[only] till your youth be passed. When, thumbed by the
hands of the vulgar, you begin to grow dirty; either you
shall in silence feed the grovelling book-worms, or you shall
make your escape to Utica, or shall be sent bound to Ilerda.
Your disregarded adviser shall then laugh [at you]: as he,
who in a passion pushed his refractory ass over the precipice.
For who would save [an ass] against his will? This too

248

Horace

awaits you, that faltering dotage shall seize on you, to teach
boys their rudiments in the skirts of the city. But when
the abating warmth of the sun shall attract more ears, you
shall tell them that I was the son of a freedman, and extended
my wings beyond my nest; so that, as much as you take
away from my family, you may add to my merit: that I was
in favour with the first men in the state, both in war and
peace ; of a short stature, grey before my time, calculated for
sustaining heat, prone to passion, yet so as to be soon ap-
peased. If any one should chance to inquire my age; let
him know that I had completed four times eleven Decembers,
in the year in which Lollius admitted Lepidus as his colleague.

THE EPISTLES— BOOK II I

EPISTLE I

TO AUGUSTUS

He honours him with the highest compliments; then treats copiously
of poetry, its origin, character, and excellence.

SINCE you alone support so many and such weighty concerns,
defend Italy with your arms, adorn it by your virtues, reform
it by your laws; I should offend, 0 Caesar, against the public
interests, if I were to trespass upon your time with a long
discourse.

Romulus, and father Bacchus, and Castor and Pollux, after
great achievements, received into the temples of the gods,
while they were improving the world and human nature,
composing fierce dissensions, settling property, building
cities, lamented that the esteem which they expected was
not paid in proportion to their merits. He who crushed the
dire Hydra, and subdued the renowned monsters by his fore-
fated labour, found envy was to be tamed by death [alone].
For he burns by his very splendour, whose superiority is
oppressive to the arts beneath him : after his decease, he shall
be had in honour. On you, while present amongst us, we
confer mature honours, and rear altars where your name is to
be sworn by; confessing that nothing equal to you has
hitherto risen, or will hereafter rise. But this your people,
wise and just in one point, (for preferring you to our own,
you to the Grecian heroes), by no means estimate other things
with like proportion and measure: and disdain and detest
everything, but what they see removed from earth and
already gone by; such favourers are they of antiquity, as to
assert that the Muses [themselves] upon Mount Alba dictated
the twelve tables, forbidding to transgress, which the decem-
viri ratified; the leagues of our kings concluded with the
*K 5J5 249

250

Horace

Gabii, or the rigid Sabines; the records of the pontifices, and
the ancient volumes of the augurs.

If, because the most ancient writings of the Greeks are also
the best, Roman authors are to be weighed in the same scale,
there is no need we should say much: there is nothing hard
in the inside of an olive, nothing [hard] in the outside of a
nut. We are arrived at the highest pitch of success [in arts] :
we paint, and sing, and wrestle more skilfully than the
anointed Greeks. If length of time makes poems better, as
it does wine, I would fain know how many years will stamp
a value upon writings. A writer who died a hundred years
ago, is he to be reckoned among the perfect and ancient, or
among the mean and modern authors? Let some fixed
period exclude all dispute. He is an old and good writer
who completes a hundred years. What! one that died a
month or a year later, among whom is he to be ranked?
Among the old poets, or among those whom both the present
age and posterity will disdainfully reject? He may fairly be
placed among the ancients, who is younger either by a short
month only, for even by a whole year. I take the advantage
of this concession, and pull away by little and little, as [if they
were] the hairs of a horse's tail: and I take away a single
one, and then again another single one ; till, like a tumbling
heap, [my adversary,] who has recourse to annals and
estimates excellence by the year, and admires nothing but
what Libitina has made sacred, falls to the ground.

Ennius the wise, the nervous, and (as our critics say) a
second Homer, seems lightly to regard what becomes of his
promises and Pythagorean dreams. Is not Naevius in
people's hands, and sticking almost fresh in their memory?
So sacred is every ancient poem. As often as a debate arises,
whether this poet or the other be preferable ; Pacuvius bears
away the character of a learned, Accius, of a lofty writer;
Afranius' gown is said to have fitted Menander; Plautus, to
hurry after the pattern of the Sicilian Epicharmus; Caecilius,
to excel in gravity, Terence in contrivance. These mighty
Rome learns by heart, and these she views crowded in her
narrow theatre ! these she esteems and accounts her poets
from Livy the writer's age down to our time. Sometimes
the populace see right; sometimes they are wrong. If they

The Epistles — Book II 251

admire and extol the ancient poets so as to prefer nothing
before, to compare nothing with them, they err; if they think
and allow that they express some things in an obsolete, most
in a stiff, many in a careless manner ; they both think sensibly
and agree with me, and determine with the assent of Jove
himself. Not that I bear an ill-will against Livy's epics,
and would doom them to destruction, which I remember the
severe Orbilius taught me when a boy; but they should seem
correct, beautiful, and very little short of perfect, this I
wonder at: among which if by chance a bright expression
shines forth, and if one line or two [happen to be] somewhat
terse and musical, this unreasonably carries off and sells the
whole poem. I am disgusted that anything should be found
fault with, not because it is a lumpish composition or in-
elegant, but because it is modern ; and that not a favourable
allowance, but honour and rewards are demanded for the
old writers. Should I scruple, whether or not Atta's drama
trod the saffron and flowers in a proper manner, almost all
the fathers would cry out, that modesty was lost; since I
attempted to find fault with those pieces which the pathetic
Eesopus, which the skilful Roscius acted : either because they
esteem nothing right, but what has pleased themselves; or
because they think it disgraceful to submit to their juniors,
and to confess, now they are old, that what they learned when
young is deserving only to be destroyed. Now he who extols
Numa's Salian hymn, and would alone seem to understand
that which, as well as me, he is ignorant of, does not favour
and applaud the buried geniuses, but attacks ours, enviously
hating us moderns and everything of ours. Whereas if
novelty had been detested by the Greeks as much as by us,
what at this time would there have been ancient ? Or what
would there have been for common use to read, and thumb
common to every body ?

When first Greece, her wars being over, began to trifle,
and through prosperity to glide into folly; she glowed with
the love one while of wrestlers, another while of horses; was
fond of artificers in marble, or in ivory, or in brass; hung her
looks and attention upon a picture; was delighted now with
musicians, now with tragedians; as if an infant girl, she
sported under the nurse; soon cloyed, she abandoned what

252

Horace

[before] she earnestly desired. What is there that pleases,
or is odious, which you may not think mutable ? This effect
had happy times of peace, and favourable gales [of fortune].

At Rome it was long pleasing and customary to be up early
with open doors, to expound the laws to clients ; to lay out
money cautiously upon good securities; to hear the elder,
and to tell the younger by what means their fortunes might
increase, and pernicious luxury be diminished. The incon-
stant people have changed their mind, and glow with a
universal ardour for learning: young men and grave fathers
sup crowned with leaves, and dictate poetry. I myself, who
affirm that I write no verses, am found more false than the
Parthians: and, awake before the sun is risen, I call for my
pen and papers and desk. He that is ignorant of a ship, is
afraid to work a ship; none but he who has learned, dares
administer [even] southernwood to the sick; physicians
undertake what belongs to physicians; mechanics handle
tools; but we, unlearned and learned, promiscuously write
poems.

Yet how great advantages this error and this slight
madness has, thus compute: the poet's mind is not easily
covetous; fond of verses, he studies this alone; he laughs
at losses, flights of slaves, fires ; he contrives no fraud against
his partner, or his young ward ; he lives on husks, and brown
bread; though dastardly and unfit for war, he is useful at
home, if you allow this, that great things may derive assist-
ance from small ones. The poet fashions the child's tender
and lisping mouth, and turns his ear even at this time from
obscene language; afterwards also he forms his heart with
friendly precepts, the corrector of his rudeness and envy and
passion; he records virtuous actions, he instructs the rising
age with approved examples, he comforts the indigent and the
sick. Whence should the virgin, stranger to a husband, with
the chaste boys, learn the solemn prayer, had not the muse
given a poet? The chorus entreats the divine aid, and finds
the gods propitious; sweet in learned prayer, they implore
the waters of the heavens ; avert diseases, drive off impend-
ing dangers, obtain both peace and years enriched with fruits.
With song the gods above are appeased, with song the gods
below.

The Epistles — Book II 253

Our ancient swains, stout and happy with a little, after the
grain was laid up, regaling in a festival season their bodies
and even their minds, patient of hardships through the hope
of their ending, with their slaves and faithful wife, the
partners of their labours, atoned with a hog [the goddess]
Earth, with milk Silvanus, with flowers and wine the genius
that reminds us of our short life. Invented by this custom,
the Fescennine licentiousness poured forth its rustic taunts
in alternate stanzas ; and this liberty, received down through
revolving years, sported pleasingly; till at length the bitter
raillery began to be turned into open rage, and threatening
with impunity to stalk through reputable families. They,
who suffered from its bloody tooth, smarted with the pain;
the unhurt likewise were concerned for the common condition :
further also, a law and a penalty were enacted which forbade
that any one should be stigmatised in lampoon. Through
fear of the bastinado, they were reduced to the necessity of
changing their manner, and of praising and delighting.

Captive Greece took captive her fierce conqueror, and
introduced her arts into rude Latium. Thus flowed off the
rough Saturnian numbers, and delicacy expelled the rank
venom: but for a long time there remained, and at this day
remain, traces of rusticity. For late [the Roman writer]
applied his genius to the Grecian pages; and enjoying rest
after the Punic wars, began to search what useful matter
Sophocles, and Thespis, and Aeschylus afforded: he tried,
too, if he could with dignity translate their works ; and suc-
ceeded in pleasing himself, being by nature [of a genius]
sublime and strong: for he breathes a spirit tragic enough,
and dares successfully; but fears a blot, and thinks it dis-
graceful in his writings.

Comedy is believed to require the least pains, because it
fetches its subjects from common life; but the less indul-
gence it meets with, the more labour it requires. See how
Plautus supports the character of a lover under age, how
that of a covetous father, how those of a cheating pimp:
how Dossennus exceeds all measure in his voracious parasites ;
with how loose a sock he runs over the stage : ' for he is glad
to put the money in his pocket, after this regardless whether
his play stand or fall.

254

Horace

Him, whom glory in her airy car has brought upon the
stage, the careless spectator dispirits, the attentive renders
more diligent: so slight, so small a matter it is, which over-
turns or raises a mind covetous of praise! Adieu the
ludicrous business [of dramatic writing], if applause denied
brings me back meagre, bestowed [makes me] full of flesh
and spirits.

This too frequently drives away and deters even an adven-
turous poet? that they who are in number more, in worth
and rank inferior, unlearned and foolish, and (if the eques-
trian order dissents) ready to fall to blows, in the midst of the
play, call for either a bear or boxers; for in these the mob
delight. Nay, even all the pleasure of our knights is now
transferred from the ear to the uncertain eyes, and their vain
amusements. The curtains are kept down for four hours or
more, while troops of horse and companies of foot flee over
the stage : next is dragged forward the fortune of kings, with
their hands bound behind them ; chariots, litters, carriages,
ships hurry on ; captive ivory, captive Corinth, is borne along.
Democritus, if he were on earth, would laugh; whether a
panther a different genus confused with the camel, or a white
elephant attracted the eyes of the crowd. He would view the
people more attentively than the sports themselves, as afford-
ing him more strange sights than the actor: and for the
writers, he would think they told their story to a deaf ass.
For what voices are able to overbear the din with which our
theatres resound ? You would think the grove of Garganus,
or the Tuscan Sea, was roaring; writh so great noise are
viewed the shows and contrivances, and foreign riches : with
which the actor being daubed over, as soon as he appears upon
the stage, each right hand encounters with the left. Has he
said anything yet? Nothing at all. What then pleases?
The cloth imitating [the colour of] violets, with the dye of
Tarentum.

And, that you may not think I enviously praise those kinds
of writing, which I decline undertaking, when others handle
them well: that poet to me seems able to walk upon an
extended rope, who with his fictions grieves my soul, enrages,
soothes, fills it with false terrors, as an enchanter; and sets
me now in Thebes, now in Athens.

The Epistles — Book II 255

But of those too, who had rather trust themselves with a
reader, than bear the disdain of an haughty spectator, use a
little care ; if you would fill with books [the library you have
erected], an offering worthy of Apollo, and add an incentive
to the poets, that with greater eagerness they may apply to
verdant Helicon.

We poets, it is true, (that I may hew down my own vine-
yards,) often do ourselves many mischiefs, when we present
a work to you while thoughtful, or fatigued; when we are
pained, if any friend has dared to find fault with one line;
when, unasked, we read over again passages already repeated :
when we lament that our labours do not appear, and our
poems, spun out in a fine thread : when we hope the thing
will come to this, that as soon as you are apprized we are
penning verses, you will kindly of yourself send for us, and
secure us from want, and oblige us to write. But yet it is
worth while to know, who shall be the priests of your virtue
signalised in war and at home, which is not to be trusted to
an unworthy poet. A favourite of king Alexander the Great
was that Choerilus, who to his uncouth and ill-formed verses
owed the many pieces he received of Philip's royal coin.
But, as ink when touched leaves behind it a mark and a blot,
so writers, as it were, stain shining actions by foul poetry.
That same king, who prodigally bought so dear so ridiculous
a poem, by an edict forbade that any one beside Apelles should
paint him, or that any other than Lysippus should mould
brass for the likeness of the valiant Alexander. But should
you call that faculty of his, so delicate in discerning other
arts, to [judge of] books and of these gifts of the muses, you
would swear he had been born in the'gross air of the Boeotians.
Yet neither do Virgil and Varius, your beloved poets, dis-
grace your judgment of them, and the presents which they
have received with great honour to the donor; nor do the
features of illustrious men appear more lively when expressed
by statues of brass, than their manners and minds expressed
by the works of a poet. Nor would I rather compose such
tracts as these creeping on the ground, than record deeds of
arms, and the situations of countries, and rivers, and forts
reared upon mountains, and barbarous kingdoms, and wars
brought to a conclusion through the whole world under your

256 Horace

auspices,, and the barriers that confine Janus the guardian of
peace, and Rome dreaded by the Parthians under your
government, if I were but able to do as much as I could wish.
But neither does your majesty admit of humble poetry, nor
dares my modesty attempt a subject which my strength is
unable to support. Yet officiousness foolishly disgusts the
person whom it loves; especially when it recommends itself
by numbers, and the art [of writing]. For one learns sooner,
and more willingly remembers, that which a man derides,
than that which he approves and venerates. I value not the
zeal that gives me uneasiness ; nor do I wish to be set out any-
where in wax, with a face formed for the worse, nor to be
celebrated in ill-composed verses; lest I blush, when pre-
sented with the gross gift; and, exposed in an open box along
with my author, be conveyed into the street that sells frank-
incense, and spices, and pepper, and whatever is wrapped
up in impertinent writings.

EPISTLE II

TO JULIUS FLORUS

In apologising for not having written to him, he shows that the well-
ordering of life is of more importance than the composition of
verses.

0 FLORUS, faithful friend to the good and illustrious Nero,
if by chance any one should offer to sell you a boy born at
Tibur or Gabii, and should treat with you in this manner;
' This [boy who is] both good-natured, and well-favoured
from head to foot, shall become and be yours for eight thou-
sand sesterces; a domestic slave, ready in his attendance
at his master's nod; initiated in the Greek language, of a
capacity for any art: you may shape out anything with
[such] moist clay; besides, he will sing in an artless manner,
but yet entertaining to one drinking. Lavish promises
lessen credit, when any one cries up extravagantly the wares
he has for sale, which he wants to put off. No emergency
obliges me [to dispose of him] : though poor, I am in nobody's

The Epistles — Book II 257

debt. None of the chapmen would do this for you; nor
should everybody readily receive the same favour from me.
Once, [indeed.] he loitered [on an errand] ; and (as it happens)
absconded, being afraid of the lash that hangs in the stair-
case. Give me your money, if this runaway trick, which I
have expected, does not offend you." In my opinion, the
man may take his price, and be secure from any punishment:
you wittingly purchased a good-for-nothing boy: the con-
dition of the contract was told you. Nevertheless you prose-
cute this man, and detain him in an unjust suit.

I told you, at your setting out, that I was indolent: I told
you I was almost incapable of such offices: that you might
not chide me in angry mood, because no letter [from me]
came to hand. What then have I profited, if you neverthe-
less arraign the conditions that make for me? On the same
score too you complain, that, being worse than my word, I do
not send you the verses you expected.

A soldier of Lucullus, [having run through] a great many
hardships, was robbed of his collected stock to a penny, as
he lay snoring in the night quite fatigued: after this, like a
ravenous wolf, equally exasperated at himself and the enemy,
eager, with his hungry fangs, he beat off a royal guard from
a post (as they report) very strongly fortified, and well
supplied with stores. Famous on account of this exploit, he
is adorned with honourable rewards, and receives twenty
thousand sesterces into the bargain. It happened about this
time that his officer, being inclined to batter down a certain
fort, began to encourage the same man, with words that might
even have given courage to a coward : " Go, my brave fellow,
whither your valour calls you: go with prosperous step,
certain to receive ample rewards of your merit. Why do
you hesitate? Upon this, he arch, though a rustic: "He
who has lost his purse will go whither you wish," says he.

It was my lot to have Rome for my nurse, and to be in-
structed [from the Iliad] how much the exasperated Achilles
prejudiced the Greeks. Good Athens gave me some ad-
ditional learning: that is to say, to be able to distinguish a
right line from a curve, and seek after truth in the groves of
Academus. But the troublesome times removed me from
that pleasant spot; and the tide of a civil war carried me

258 Horace

away, unexperienced as I was, into arms, [into arms] not
likely to be a match for the sinews of Augustus Caesar.
Whence, as soon as [the battle of] Philippi dismissed me in
an abject condition, with my wings clipped, and destitute
both of house and land, daring poverty urged me on to the
composition of verses : but now, having more than is wanted,
what medicines would be efficacious enough to cure my mad-
ness, if I did not think it better to rest than to write verses.

The advancing years rob us of everything: they have
taken away my mirth, my gallantry, my revellings, and play :
they are now proceeding to force poetry from me. What
would you have me do ?

In short, all persons do not love and admire the same
things. You delight in the ode: one man is pleased with
iambics; another with satires written in the manner of Bion,
and virulent wit. Three guests scarcely can be found to
agree, craving very different dishes with various palate.
What shall I give? What shall I not give? You forbid,
what another demands : what you desire, that truly is sour
and disgustful to the [other] two.

Beside other [difficulties], do you think it practicable for
me to write poems at Rome, amidst so many solicitudes and
so many fatigues ? One calls me as his security, another to
hear his works, all business else apart; one lives on the
mount of Quirinus, the other in the extremity of the Aven-
tine ; both must be waited on. The distances between them,
you see, are charmingly commodious. " But the streets are
clear, so that there can be no obstacle to the thoughtful." —
A builder in heat hurries along with his mules and porters :
the crane whirls aloft at one time a stone, at another a great
piece of timber: the dismal funerals dispute the way with the
unwieldy carriages : here runs a mad dog, there rushes a sow
begrimed with mire. — Go now, and meditate with yourself
your harmonious verses. All the whole choir of poets love
the grove, and avoid cities, due votaries to Bacchus delight-
ing in repose and shade. Would you have me, amidst so
great noise both by night and day, [attempt] to sing, and
trace the difficult footsteps of the poets ? A genius who has
chosen quiet Athens for his residence, and has devoted seven
years to study, and has grown old in books and study,

The Epistles — Book II 259

frequently walks forth more dumb than a statue, and shakes
the people's sides with laughter: here, in the midst of the
billows and tempests of the city, can I be thought capable of
connecting words likely to wake the sound of the lyre ?

At Rome there was a rhetorician, brother to a lawyer ; [so
fond of each other were they,] that they would hear nothing
but the mere praises of each other: insomuch, that the latter
appeared a Gracchus to the former, the former a Mucius to
the latter. Why should this frenzy affect the obstreperous
poets in a less degree ? I write odes, another elegies : a work
wonderful to behold, and burnished by the nine muses !
Observe first, with what a fastidious air, with what import-
ance we survey the temple [of Apollo] vacant for the Roman
poets. In the next place you may follow (if you are at
leisure) and hear what each produces, and wherefore each
weaves for himself the crown. Like Samnite gladiators in
slow duel, till candle-light, we are beaten and waste out the
enemy with equal blows: I come off Alcaeus, in his suffrage;
he in mine, who? Why who but Callimachus? Or, if he
seems to make a greater demand, he becomes Mimnermus, and
grows in fame by the chosen appellation. Much do I endure
in order to pacify this passionate race of poets, when I am
writing; and submissive court the applause of the people;
[but,] having finished my studies and recovered my senses,
I the same man can now boldly stop my open ears against
reciters.

Those who make bad verses are laughed at : but they are
pleased in writing, and reverence themselves ; and if you are
silent, they, happy, fall to praising of their own accord what-
ever they have written. But he who desires to execute a
genuine poem, will with his papers assume the spirit of an
honest critic : whatever words shall have but little clearness
and elegance, or shall be without weight and held unworthy
of estimation, he will dare to displace: though they may
recede with reluctance, and still remain in the sanctuary of
Vesta: those that have been long hidden from the people he
kindly will drag forth, and bring to light those expressive
denominations of things that were used by the Catos and
Cethegi of ancient times, though now deformed dust and
neglected age presses upon them : he will adopt new words,

260 Horace

which use, the parent [of language], shall produce: forcible
and perspicuous, and bearing the utmost similitude to a
limpid stream, he will pour out his treasures, and enrich
Latium with a comprehensive language. The luxuriant he
will lop, the too harsh he will soften with a sensible
cultivation: those void of expression he will discard: he
will exhibit the appearance of one at play; and will be [in
his invention] on the rack, like [a dancer on the stage],
who one while affects the motions of a satyr, at another of
a clumsy Cyclops.

I had rather be esteemed a foolish and dull writer, while
my faults please myself, or at least escape my notice, than be
wise and smart for it. There lived at Argos a man of no
mean rank, who imagined that he was hearing some admir-
able tragedians, a joyful sitter and applauder in an empty
theatre: who [nevertheless] could support the other duties of
life in a just manner; a truly honest neighbour, an amiable
host, kind toward his wife, one who could pardon his slaves,
nor would rave at the breaking of a bottle-seal: one who
[had sense enough] to avoid a precipice, or an open well.
This man, being cured at the expense and by the care of his
relations, when he had expelled by the means of pure helle-
bore the disorder and melancholy humour, and returned to
himself; " By Pollux, my friends, (said he,) you have de-
stroyed, not saved me ; from whom my pleasure is thus taken
away, and a most agreeable delusion of mind removed by
force."

In a word, it is of the first consequence to be wise in the
rejection of trifles, and leave childish play to boys for whom
it is in season, and not to scan words to be set to music for
the Roman harps, but [rather] to be perfectly an adept in the
numbers and proportions of real life. Thus therefore I com-
mune with myself, and ponder these things in silence: " If
no quantity of water would put an end to your thirst, you
would tell it to your physicians. And is there none to whom
you dare confess, that the more you get, the more you crave ?
If you had a wound, which was not relieved by a plant or
root prescribed to you, you would refuse being doctored with
a root or plant that did no good. You have heard that
vicious folly left the man, on whom the gods conferred wealth;

The Epistles — Book II 261

and though you are nothing wiser; since you became richer,
will you nevertheless use the same monitors as before ? But
could riches make you wise, could they make you less covetous
and mean-spirited, you well might blush, if there lived on
earth one more avaricious than yourself."

If that be any man's property which he has bought by the
pound and penny, [and] there be some things to which (if
you give credit to the lawyers) possession gives a claim,
[then] the field that feeds you is your own; and Orbius'
steward, when he harrows the corn which is soon to give you
flour, finds you are [in effect] the proper master. You give
your money; you receive grapes, pullets, eggs, a hogshead of
strong wine : certainly in this manner you by little and little
purchase that farm, for which perhaps the owner paid three
hundred thousand sesterces, or more. What does it signify,
whether you live on what was paid for the other day, or a
long while ago? He who purchased the Aricinian and
Veientine fields some time since, sups on bought vegetables,
however he may think otherwise ; boils his pot with bought
wood at the approach of the chill evening. But he calls all
that his own, as far as where the planted poplar prevents
quarrels among neighbours by a determinate limitation: as
if anything were a man's property, which in a moment of the
fleeting hour, now by solicitations, now by sale, now by
violence, and now by the supreme lot [of all men], may change
masters, and come into another's jurisdiction. Thus since
the perpetual possession is given to none, and one man's heir
urges on another's, as wave impels wave, of what importance
are houses, or granaries; or what the Lucanian pastures
joined to the Calabrian; if Hades, inexorable to gold, mows
down the great together with the small ?

Gems, marble, ivory, Tuscan statues, pictures, silver-
plate, robes dyed with Getulian purple, there are who cannot
acquire; and there are others, who are not solicitous of
acquiring. Of two brothers, why one prefers lounging, play,
and perfume, to Herod's rich palm-tree groves; why the
other, rich and uneasy, from the rising of the light to the
evening shade, subdues his woodland with fire and steel : our
attendant genius knows, who governs the planet of our
nativity, the divinity [that presides] over human nature, who

262 Horace

dies with each individual, of various complexion, white and
black.

I will use, and take out from my moderate stock, as much
as my exigence demands : nor will I be under any apprehen-
sions what opinion my heir shall hold concerning me, when
he shall find [I have left him] no more than I had given me.
And yet I, the same man, shall be inclined to know how far
an open and cheerful person differs from a debauchee, and
how greatly the economist differs from the miser. For there
is some distinction whether you throw away your money in a
prodigal manner, or make an entertainment without grudg-
ing, nor toil to accumulate more; or rather, as formerly in
Minerva's holidays, when a school-boy, enjoy by starts the
short and pleasant vacation.

Let sordid poverty be far away. I, whether borne in a
large or small vessel, let me be borne uniform and the same.
I am not wafted with swelling sail before the north wind blow-
ing fair : yet I do not bear my course of life against the ad-
verse south. In force, genius, figure, virtue, station, estate,
the last of the first-rate, [yet] still before those of the last.

You are not covetous, [you say]: — go to. — What then?
Have the rest of your vices fled from you, together with this ?
Is your breast free from vain ambition ? Is it free from the
fear of death, and from anger? Can you laugh at dreams,
magic terrors, wonders, witches, nocturnal goblins, and Thes-
salian prodigies? Do you number your birthdays with a
grateful mind ? Are you forgiving to your friends ? Do you
grow milder and better as old age approaches ? What profits
you only one thorn eradicated out of many? If you do not
know how to live in a right manner, make way for those that
do. You have played enough, eaten and drunk enough, it
is time for you to walk off : lest having tippled too plentifully,
that age which plays the wanton with more propriety, should
ridicule and drive you [off the stage].

EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY
A Selected List

In each of the thirteen classifications in this list (except BIO-
GRAPHY) the volumes are arranged alphabetically under the authors'
names, but Anthologies, etc., are listed under titles. Where
authors appear in more than one section, a cross-reference is
given. The number at the end of each item is the number of
the volume in the series. Volumes marked *, red binding,
and f, blue binding, are in the new crown octavo format.

March 1953

EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY

BIOGRAPHY

Baxter (Richard), Autobiography of 868

Blake (William), Life of. By Alexander
Gilchrist. Illustrated 971

(See aho POETRY AND DRAMA)

Bronte (Charlotte), Life of. By Mrs.
Gaskell 318

(See aho FICTION)

Burney (Fanny), Diary (1779-1 840) 960
Burns (Robert), Life of. By J. G.

Lockhart 156

(See also POETRY AND DRAMA)

Byron's Letters 931

(See aho POETRY AND DRAMA)

Carlyle's Reminiscences 875

(See aho ESSAYS and HISTORY)

Cellini's Autobiography 51

Cowper (Wm.)> Selected Letters of 774
(See also POETRY AND DRAMA)

Dickens (Charles), Life of. By John
Forster. 2 vols. 781-2

(See also FICTION)

Evelyn's Diary. 2 vols. 220-1

Fox (George), Journal of 754

Franklin's Autobiography 316

Gibbon's Autobiography 5 1 1

(See also HISTORY)

Goethe, Life of. By G. H. Lewes 269

Hudson (W. H.)5 Far Away and Long
Ago (autobiography of his youth) 956

Johnson (Dr. Samuel), Life of. By
James Boswell. 2 vols. 1-2

Johnson's Lives of the Poets. 2 vols.

(See also TRAVEL) 770—1

Keats (John), Life and Letters of. By

Lord Houghton 801

(See also POETRY AND DRAMA)
Lamb (Charles), Letters of. 2 vols. 342-3

(See aho ESSAYS and FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)
Mahomet, Life of. By Washington

Irving 513

Napoleon, Life of. By J. G. Lockhart 3
Nelson, Life of. By Southey 52

Newcastle (First Duke of), Life of, and

other writings. By the Duchess of

Newcastle 722

Outram (Sir J.), The Bayard of India.

By Capt. L. J. Trotter 396

Pepys's Diary. Lord Braybrooke's 1854

ed. 2 vols. 53-4

Plutarch's Lives of Noble Greeks and

Romans. Dryden's Translation. 3

vols. 407-9

Rousseau, Confessions of. 2 vols. 859-60

(See also ESSAYS and PHILOSOPHY)
Swift's Journal to Stella. Ed. J. K.

Moorhead 757

(See also ESSAYS and FICTION)
Vasari's Lives of the Painters. 4 vols.

784-7

Walpole (H.), Selected Letters of 775
Wellington, Life of. By G. R. Gleig 341
Woolman's (John) Journal and Other

Papers 402

CLASSICAL

Aeschylus' Lyrical Dramas 62

Aristophanes' Comedies. 2 vols. 344, 516

Aristotle's Poetics, etc., and Demetrius

on Style, etc. 901 *

„ Politics 605

(See also PHILOSOPHY)

Caesar's War Commentaries 702 *

Cicero's Essays and Select Letters 345 f
Epictetus, Moral Discourses, etc. Eliza-
beth Carter's Translation 404
Euripides' Plays in 2 vols. 63, 271
Herodotus. 2 vols. 405-6

Homer's Iliad 453

„ Odyssey 454 *

Horace. Complete Poetical Works 515*

Lucretius : On the Nature of Things 750

Marcus Aurelius' Meditations 9

Ovid: Selected Works 955

Plato's Dialogues. 2 vols. 456-7

„ Republic 64

Sophocles' Dramas 114f

Thucydides' Peloponnesian War 455

Virgil's Aeneid 161

„ Eclogues and Georgics 222

ESSAYS AND BELLES-LETTRES

675*
115

Anthology of English Prose

Arnold's (Matthew) Essays

(See also POETRY)
Bacon's Essays 10

(See also PHILOSOPHY)
Bagehot's Literary Studies. 2 vols. 520-1

460

566

Burke's Reflections

(See aho ORATORY)
Canton's The Invisible Playmate

(See aho FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)

Carlyle's Essays. 2 vols. 703-4

,, Past and Present 608

Everyman's Library — Essays & Belles-Lettres — Continued

Carlyle's Sartor Resartus and Heroes

and Hero Worship 278

(See also BIOGRAPHY and HISTORY)

Castiglione's The Courtier 807

Century of Essays, A. An Anthology

of English Essayists 653

Chesterfield's (Lord) Letters to his

Son 823

Coleridge's Biographia Literaria 11

„ Essays and Lectures on

Shakespeare, etc. 162

(See also POETRY)

De Quincey's(Thomas)Opium Eater 223
Dryden's Dramatic Essays 568

Eckermann's Conversations with Goethe

851

Emerson's Essays. 1st and 2nd Series 12
„ Representative Men 279
Gilfillan's Literary Portraits 348

Hamilton's The Federalist 519

Hazlitt's Lectures on the English Comic
Writers 411

„ The Round Table and Shake-
speare's Characters 65
„ Spirit of the Age and Lectures
on English Poets 459
Table Talk 321
Holmes's Autocrat of the Breakfast
Table 66
Hudson's (W. H.) A Shepherd's Life 926
Hunt's (Leigh) Selected Essays 829

Johnson (Dr. Samuel), The Rambler

994*

Lamb's Essays of Elia 14

(See also BIOGRAPHY and FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)

Landor's Imaginary Conversations and

Poems: A selection 890

Lynd's (Robert) Essays on Life and

Literature 990

Macaulay's Essays. 2 vols. 225-6

(See also HISTORY)

Machiavelli's The Prince 280

Milton's Areopagitica, etc. 795

(See also POETRY)

Mitford's Our Village 927

Montaigne's Essays. Florio's transla-
tion. 3 vols. 440-2

Newman's University Education, etc. 723
(See also PHILOSOPHY)

Prelude to Poetry, The. Ed. by Ernest
Rhys 789

Quiller-Couch's (Sir Arthur) Cambridge
Lectures 974

(See also FICTION)

Rousseau's Emile, or Education 518
(See also BIOGRAPHY and PHILOSOPHY)

Ruskin's Sesame and Lilies, The King
of the Golden River, etc. 219

Ruskin's Stones of Venice. 3 vols.

213-15

Spectator, The. By Addison, Steele,
and others. 4 vols. 164-7

Spencer's (Herbert) Essays on Educa-
tion 504

Steele's Tatler 993 *

Sterne's Sentimental Journey and Jour-
nal and Letters to Eliza 796
(See also FICTION)

Stevenson's Virginibus Puerisque and
Familiar Studies of Men and Books 765
(See also FICTION, POETRY, and TRAVEL)

Swift's Tale of a Tub, The Battle of the
Books, etc. 347 *

(See also BIOGRAPHY and FICTION)

Table Talk. Ed. by J. C. Thornton 906

Thackeray's (W. M.) The English
Humorists and The Four Georges.
Introduction by Walter Jerrold 610
(See also FICTION)

Thoreau's Walden 281

Trench's On the Study of Words and
English Past and Present 788

Tytler's Principles of Translation 168

FICTION

Ainsworth's Old St. Paul's 522

„ Rookwood 870

„ The Tower of London 400

„ Windsor Castle 709

American Short Stories of the 19th
Century 840

Austen's (Jane) Emma 24

Mansfield Park
Northanger Abbey 25
Pride and Prejudice 22
Sense and Sensibility 21

Balzac's (Honore de) Eugenie Grandet

169
„ „ Old Goriot 170

35
3)

Balzac's (Honor6 de) The Cat and

Racket, and Other Stories 349

„ „ Ursule Mirouet 733

Barbusse's Under Fire 798

Blackmore's (R. D.) Lorna Doone 304

Borrow' s Lavengro 119

„ Romany Rye 120

(See also TRAVEL)

Bronte's (Charlotte) Jane Eyre 287

„ Shirley 288

„ „ Villette 351

(See also BIOGRAPHY)
„ (Emily) Wuthering Heights 243

Burney's (Fanny) Evelina 352

Everyman's Library — Fiction — Continued

Butler's (Samuel) Erewhon and Ere-
whon Revisited 881
„ „ The Way of All Flesh 895

Collins's (Wilkie) The Moonstone 979
„ „ The Woman in White

464

Converse's (Florence) Long Will 328

(See also FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)
Dana's Two Years before the Mast 588

Defoe's Captain Singleton 74

„ Journal of the Plague Year 289

„ Moll Flanders 837

(See also TRAVEL and FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)

CHARLES DICKENS'S WORKS:

Barnaby Rudge 76

Bleak House 236

Christmas Books 239

David Copperfield 242 f

Dombey and Son 240

Great Expectations 234

Hard Times 292

Little Dorrit 293 f

Martin Chuzzlewit 241

Nicholas Nickleby 238

Old Curiosity Shop 173

Oliver Twist 233

Our Mutual Friend 294 f

Pickwick Papers 235

Tale of Two Cities 102

(See also BIOGRAPHY)

Disraeli's Coningsby 535

Dostoevsky's (Fyodor) The Brothers
Karamazov. 2 vols. 802-3
,, „ Crime and Pun-

ishment 501

„ „ The Idiot 682 f

„ „ Letters from the

Underworld and Other Tales 654

Dostoevsky's (Fyodor) Poor Folk and

the Gambler 711

„ „ The Possessed.

2 vols. 861-2

Du Maurier's (George) Trilby 863

Dumas' Black Tulip 174

„ The Count of Monte Cristo.

2 vols. 393-4

„ Marguerite de Valois 326

„ The Three Musketeers 81

„ Twenty Years After 175

Edgeworth's Castle Rackrent and The

Absentee 410

Eliot's (George) Adam Bede 27

5, ,, Middlemarch. 2 vols.

854-5

„ Mill on the Floss 325
„ Rpmola 231

„ „ Silas Marner 121

English Short Stories. Anthology. 743

Fenimore Cooper's The Last of the
Mohicans 79

3>
JJ

Fenimore Cooper's The Prairie 172
Fielding's Amelia. 2 vols. 852-3

„ Jonathan Wild and The Jour-
nal of a Voyage to Lisbon 877
„ Joseph Andrews 467

„ Tom Jones. 2 vols. 355-6
Flaubert's Madame Bovary 808

„ Salammbo. 869

„ Sentimental Education 969
Forster's (E. M.) A Passage to India 972
France's (Anatole) At the Sign of the
Reine Pedauque and The Revolt of
the Angels 967

French Short Stories of the 19th and
20th Centuries 896

Gaskell's (Mrs.) Cranford 83

Gogol's (Nicol) Dead Souls 726

„ „ Taras Bulba and Other

Tales 740

Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield 295

(See also POETRY)

Goncharov's Oblomov 878

Gorki's Through Russia 741

Grossmith's (George and Weedon)

Diary of a Nobody. Illustrated 963

Hawthorne's The House of the Seven

Gables 176

„ The Scarlet Letter 122

(See also FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)
Hugo's (Victor) Les Miserables. 2 vols.

363-4

„ „ Notre Dame 422

„ „ Toilers of the Sea 509

Jefferies' (Richard) After London and

Amaryllis at the Fair 95 1

(See also FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)
Kingsley's (Charles) Hereward the Wake

296
„ „ Westward Ho! 20

(See also POETRY and FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)
Loti's (Pierre) Iceland Fisherman 920
Lytton's Last Days of Pompeii 80

Marryat's Mr. Midshipman Easy 82

(See also FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)
Maupassant's Short Stories 907

Melville's (Herman) Moby Dick 179

Typee 180

M6rim£e's Carmen, with Provost's

Manon Lescaut 834

Mickiewicz's (Adam) Pan Tadeusz 842
Mulock's John Halifax, Gentleman 123
Pater's Marius the Epicurean 903

Poe's Tales of Mystery and Imagination

(See also POETRY) 336

Prdvost's Manon Lescaut, with Meri-

mee's Carmen 834

QuiUer-Couch's (Sir Arthur) Hetty

Wesley 864

(See also ESSAYS)

Everyman's Library — Fiction — Continued

Radcliffe's (Ann) Mysteries of Udolpho.
2 vols. 865-6

Reade's (C.) The Cloister and the
Hearth 29

Richardson's (Samuel) Clarissa. 4 vols.

882-5

„ „ Pamela. 2 vols.

683-4

Russian Authors, Short Stories from 758

SIR WALTER SCOTT'S WORKS:

Bride of Lammermoor 129

Guy Mannering 133

Heart of Midlothian, The 134

Ivanhoe. Intro. Ernest Rhys 16
Kenilworth 135

Old Mortality 137

Quentin Durward 140

Redgauntlet 141

Rob Roy 142

Talisman, The 144

Shelley's (Mary) Frankenstein 616

Shorter Novels, Vol. I. Elizabethan and
Jacobean 824

Shorter Novels, Vol. II. Jacobean and
Restoration 841

Shorter Novels, Vol. III. 18th Century

856

Sienkiewicz (Henryk), Tales from 871
„ „ QuoVadis?970

Smollett's Humphry Clinker 975

„ Roderick Random 790

Somerville and Ross : Experiences of an
Irish R.M. 978

Sterne's Tristram Shandy 617

(See also ESSAYS)

Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,
The Merry Men and Other Tales 767

Stevenson's The Master of Ballantrae
and The Black Arrow 764

3)
33
33

Stevenson's Treasure Island and Kid-
napped 763
(See also ESSAYS, POETRY, and TRAVEL)

Surtees's Jorrocks's Jaunts and Jollities

817

Swift's Gulliver's Travels . Unabridged
Edition, with contemporary maps 60
(See also ESSAYS and BIOGRAPHY)

Thackeray's Esmond 73

Newcomes. 2 vols. 465-6

Pendennis. 2 vols. 425-6

Vanity Fair 298

„ Virginians. 2 vols. 507-8
(See also ESSAYS)

Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. 2 vols. 612-13
„ Master and Man, etc. 469
„ War and Peace. 3 vols. 525-7

Trollope's (Anthony) Barchester Towers

„ Dr. Thorne 360
„ Framley Parsonage

181

„ The Last Chronicles
of Barset. 2 vols.

391-2

„ Phineas Finn. 2 vols.
832-3

„ The Small House at
Allington 361

„ „ The Warden 182*

Turgenev's Fathers and Sons 742

„ Liza, or A Nest of Nobles

677

„ Smoke 988

„ Virgin Soil 528

Twain's (Mark) Tom Sawyer and

Huckleberry Finn 976

Voltaire's Candide, etc. 936

Zola's (Emile) Germinal 897

HISTORY

Bede's Ecclesiastical History, etc. 479
Carlyle's French Revolution. 2 vols.

31-2

(See also BIOGRAPHY and ESSAYS)
Chesterton's (Cecil) History of the

United States 965

Creasy's Fifteen Decisive Battles of the

World 300

Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman

Empire. Ed. by Oliphant Smeaton,

M.A. 6 vols. 434-6, 474-6

(See also BIOGRAPHY)
Green's Short History of the English

People. 2 vols. 727-8

Holinshed's Chronicle as used in

Shakespeare's Plays 800

Lutzow's Bohemia: An Historical
Sketch. Revised edition 432

Macaulay's History of England. 4 vols.
(See also ESSAYS) 34-7 f

Motley's Dutch Republic. 3 vols. 86-8

Paston Letters, The. 2 vols. 752-3

Prescott's Conquest of Mexico. 2 vols.

397-8
„ Conquest of Peru 301

Stanley's Lectures on the Eastern
Church 251

Thierry's Norman Conquest. 2 vols.

198-9

Villehardouin and De Joinville's Chron-
icles of the Crusades 333

Voltaire's Age of Louis XIV 780

Everyman's Library

ORATORY

Anthology of British Historical Speeches Fox (Charles James) : Speeches (French

and Orations 714 Revolutionary War Period) 759

Burke's American Speeches and Letters Lincoln's Speeches, etc. 206
(See aho ESSAYS) 340

PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY

A Kempis' Imitation of Christ 484
Aquinas, Thomas: Selected Writings.

Ed. by Rev. Fr. D'Arcy
Aristotle's Ethics 547

(See also CLASSICAL)
Bacon's The Advancement of Learning

(See also ESSAYS) 719

Berkeley's (Bishop) Principles of Human

Knowledge, New Theory of Vision

483

Browne's Religio Medici, etc. 92

Bunyan's Grace Abounding and Mr.

Badman 815 *

(See also ROMANCE)

Burton's (Robert) Anatomy of Melan-
choly. 3 vols. 886-8
Chinese Philosophy in Classical Times.

Trans, and ed. by E. R. Hughes 973
Descartes' (Ren£), A Discourse on

Method 570

Hindu Scriptures 944

Hobbes's Leviathan 691

Hume's Treatise of Human Nature.

2 vols. 548-9

James (William): Selected Papers on
Philosophy 739

Kant's Critique of Pure Reason 909

King Edward VI. First and Second

Prayer Books 448

Koran, The. Rodwell's Translation 380

Law's Serious Call to a Devout and

Holy Life 91

Leibniz's Philosophical Writings 905
Locke's Two Treatises 751*

Malthus on the Principles of Population.

2 vols. 692-3

Mill's (John Stuart) Utilitarianism,

Liberty, Representative Government

482

More's (Sir Thomas) Utopia 461

New Testament 93

Newman's (Cardinal) Apologia pro

Vita Sua 636

(See aho ESSAYS)

Nietzsche's Thus Spake Zarathustra 892
Paine's (Tom) Rights of Man 718

Pascal's PensSes 874

Ramayana and the Mahabharata, The 403
Renan's Life of Jesus 805

Robinson, Philosophy of Atonement 637
Rousseau's (J. J.) The Social Contract,

etc. 660

(See also ESSAYS and BIOGRAPHY)
St. Augustine's Confessions 200

„ The City of God. 2 vols.

982-3
St. Francis: The Little Flowers, and

The Life of St. Francis 485

Spinoza's Ethics, etc. 481

Swedenborg's (Emanuel) The True

Christian Religion 893

POETRY AND DRAMA

Anglo-Saxon Poetry. 794

Arnold's (Matthew) Poems 334

(See aho ESSAYS)

Ballads, A Book of British 572

Beaumont and Fletcher, The Selected

Plays of 506

Blake's Poems and Prophecies 792

(See aho BIOGRAPHY)

Browning's Poems. Vol. 1, 1833-44 41

„ Poems. Vol. II, 1844-64 42

„ Poems and Plays, Vol. IV,

1871-90 964

„ The Ring and the Book 502

Burns's Poems and Songs 94

(See also BIOGRAPHY)

Byron's Poetical Works. 3 vols. 486-8
(See aho BIOGRAPHY)

Calderon: Six Plays, translated by

Edward FitzGerald 819

Chaucer's Canterbury Tales 307
„ Troilus and Criseyde 992 *

Coleridge, Golden Book of 43

(See aho ESSAYS)

Cowper (William), Poems of 872

(See aho BIOGRAPHY)

Dante's Divine Comedy 308

Donne's Poems 867

Dry den's Poems 910

Eighteenth-Century Plays 818

English Galaxy of Shorter Poems 959

Everyman and other Interludes 381

FitzGerald's Omar Khayyam, etc. 819

Everyman's Library — Poetry and Drama — Continued

Golden Treasury of Longer Poems 746

Goldsmith's Poems and Plays 415

(See also FICTION)

Gray's Poems and Letters 628

Heine: Prose and Poetry 911

Ibsen's Brand 716

„ A Doll's House, The Wild Duck,

and The Lady from the Sea 494

„ Ghosts, The Warriors at Helge-

land, and An Enemy of the People 552

Ibsen's Peer Gynt 747

„ The Pretenders, Pillars of

Society, and Rosmersholm 659

International Modern Plays 989

Jonson's (Ben) Plays. 2 vols. 489-90 f

Keats's Poems 101

(See also BIOGRAPHY)
Kingsley's (Charles) Poems 793

(See also FICTION and FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)
La Fontaine's Fables 991

Langland's (William) Piers Plowman 571
Lessing's Laocoon, etc. 843

Longfellow's Poems 382

Marlowe's Plays and Poems 383

Milton's Poems 384

(See also ESSAYS)

Minor Elizabethan Drama. 2 vols. 491-2
Minor Poets of the 18th Century 844
Minor Poets of the 17th Century 873 f

Moliere's Comedies. 2 vols. 830-1
New Golden Treasury, The 695

Palgrave's Golden Treasury 96

Poe's (Edgar Allan) Poems and Essays

791
(See also FICTION)

Pope (Alexander) : Collected Poems 760
Restoration Plays 604

Shakespeare's Comedies 153 f

„ Historical Plays, Poems,

and Sonnets 154f

„ Tragedies 155 f

Shelley's Poetical Works. 2 vols. 257-8
Sheridan's Plays 95

Silver Poets of the 16th Century 985
Spenser's Faerie Queene. 2 vols. 443-4
„ Shepherd's Calendar, etc. 879

Stevenson's Poems 768

(See also ESSAYS, FICTION, and TRAVEL)
Swinburne's Poems and Prose 961

Tchekhov. Plays and Stories 941

Tennyson's Poems, 1829-92. 2 vols.

44, 626

Webster and Ford. Plays 899

Whitman's (Walt) Leaves of Grass 573
Wilde (Oscar): Plays, Prose Writings,
and Poems 858

Wordsworth's Longer Poems 311

REFERENCE

Biographical Dictionary of English
Literature 449

Everyman's English Dictionary. Ed.
by D. C. Browning, M.A. 776

Literary and Historical Atlas. America.
Many coloured and line Maps; full
Index and Gazetteer 553

The following volumes in this section are now in the larger format of

Everyman's Reference Library:

Atlas of Ancient & Classical Geography Smaller Classical Dictionary. (Revised

Dictionary of Dates from Sir William Smith)

Dictionary of Quotations and Proverbs Thesaurus of English Words and

Dictionary of Non-Classical Mythology Phrases. (Revised from Peter Roget)

ROMANCE

Aucassin and Nicolette, with other

Medieval Romances 497

Boccaccio's Decameron. (Unabridged).

2 vols. 845-6 *

Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress 204

(See also PHILOSOPHY)

Burnt Njal, The Story of 558

Cervantes' Don Quixote. 2 vols. 385-6
Chretien de Troyes: Eric and Enid, etc.

698

Heimskringla : Sagas of the Norse Kings

847

Kalevala. 2 vols. 259-60

Mabinogion, The 97

Malory's Le Morte d' Arthur. 2 vols.

45-6*

Nibelungs, The Fall of the 312

Rabelais' The Heroic Deeds of Gar-

gantua and Pantagruel. 2 vols. 826-7

Everyman's Library

SCIENCE

Boyle's The Sceptical Chymist 559
Darwin's The Origin of Species 811

(See also TRAVEL)

Euclid: the Elements of 891

Faraday's (Michael) Experimental Re-
searches in Electricity 576
Harvey's Circulation of the Blood 262
Howard's State of the Prisons 835
Locke's Essay on Human Under-
standing 984
Marx's (Karl) Capital. 2 vols. 843-9

Owen's A New View of Society, etc. 799
Pearson's (Karl) The Grammar of
Science 939

Ricardo's Principles of Political Eco-
nomy and Taxation 590
Smith's (Adam) The Wealth of Nations.
2 vols. 412-13
White's Selborne. New edition 48
Wollstonecraft (Mary), The Rights of
Woman, with John Stuart Mill's The
Subjection of Women 825

TRAVEL AND TOPOGRAPHY

A Book of the 'Bounty' 950

Sorrow's (George) The Bible in Spain

151

(See also FICTION)
BoswelTs Tour in the Hebrides with

Dr. Johnson 387

(See also BIOGRAPHY)

Cobbett's Rural Rides. 2 vols. 638-9
Cook's Voyages of Discovery 99

Crevecoeur's (H. St. John) Letters from

an American Farmer 640

Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle 104

(See also SCIENCE")

Defoe's Tour through England and

Wales. 2 vols. 820-1

(See also FICTION and FOR YOUNG PEOPLE)

Kinglake's Eothen 337

Polo's (Marco) Travels 306

Portuguese Voyages, 1498-1663 986

Stevenson's An Inland Voyage, Travels

with a Donkey, and Silverado

Squatters 766

(See also ESSAYS, FICTION, and POETRY)

Stow's Survey of London 589

Wakefield's Letter from Sydney, etc. 828

Waterton's Wanderings in South

America 772

FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

Aesop's and Other Fables 657

Alcott's Little Men 512

„ Little Women & Good Wives 248

Andersen's Fairy Tales. Illustrated by

the Brothers Robinson 4

Browne's (Frances) Granny's Wonderful

Chair 112

Bulfinch's The Age of Fable 472

Canton's A Child's Book of Saints.

Illustrated by T. H. Robinson 61

(See also ESSAYS)
Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, Through

the Looking-Glass, etc. Illustrated

by the Author 836

Collodi's Pinocchio: the Story of a

^ Puppet 538

Converse's (Florence) The House of

Prayer 923

(See also FICTION)
Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. Parts

I and II 59

(See also FICTION)
Fairy Tales from the Arabian Nights.

Illustrated 249

Grimms' Fairy Tales. Illustrated by

R. Arming Bell 56

Hawthorne's Wonder Book and Tangle-
wood Tales 5

(See also FICTION)

Howard's Rattlin the Reefer 857

Hughes's Tom Brown's Schooldays.
Illustrated by T. Robinson 58

Jefferies's (Richard) Bevis, the Story of
a Boy 850

(See also FICTION)

Kingsley's Heroes 113

„ Water Babies and Glaucus
(See also POETRY and FICTION) 277

Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare.
Illustrated by A. Rackham 8

(See also BIOGRAPHY and ESSAYS)

Lear: A Book of Nonsense 806

Marryat's Children of the New Forest

247

„ Masterman Ready 160

(See also FICTION)

Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes.
Illustrated 473

SewelTs (Anna) Black Beauty. Illus-
trated by Lucy Kemp-Welch 748

Spyri's (Johanna) Heidi. Illustrations
by Lizzie Lawson 431

Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin 371

Verne's (Jules) Twenty Thousand
Leagues Under the Sea 319

Wyss's Swiss Family Robinson. Illus-
trated by Charles Folkard 430

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