The Satires of Juvenal, Persius, Sulpicia, and Lucilius
Should threatening fail, to name another heir! 80
--Audacious! with what front do you aspire
To exercise the license of a sire?
When all, with rising indignation, view
The youth, in turpitude, surpassed by you,
By you, old fool, whose windy, brainless head, 85
Long since required the cupping-glass's aid!
Is there a guest expected? all is haste,
All hurry in the house, from first to last.
"Sweep the dry cobwebs down!" the master cries,
Whips in his hand, and fury in his eyes, 90
"Let not a spot the clouded columns stain;
Scour you the figured silver; you, the plain!"
O inconsistent wretch! is all this coil,
Lest the front hall, or gallery, daubed with soil
(Which, yet, a little sand removes), offend 95
The prying eye of some indifferent friend?
And do you stir not, that your son may see
The house from moral filth, from vices free!
True, you have given a citizen to Rome;
And she shall thank you, if the youth become, 100
By your o'er-ruling care, or soon or late,
A useful member of the parent state:
For all depends on you; the stamp he'll take,
From the strong impress which, at first, you make;
And prove, as vice or virtue was your aim, 105
His country's glory, or his country's shame.
The stork, with snakes and lizards from the wood
And pathless wild, supports her callow brood;
And the fledged storklings, when to wing they take,
Seek the same reptiles, through the devious brake. 110
The vulture snuffs from far the tainted gale,
And, hurrying where the putrid scents exhale,
From gibbets and from graves the carcass tears,
And to her young the loathsome dainty bears;
Her young, grown vigorous, hasten from the nest, 115
And gorge on carrion, with the parent's zest.
While Jove's own eagle, bird of noble blood,
Scours the wide champaign for untainted food,
Bears the swift hare, or swifter fawn away,
And feeds her nestlings with the generous prey; 120
Her nestlings hence, when from the rock they spring,
And, pinched by hunger, to the quarry wing,
Stoop only to the game they tasted first,
When, clamorous, from the shell, to light they burst.
Centronius planned and built, and built and planned; 125
And now along Cajeta's winding strand,
And now amid Præneste's hills, and now
On lofty Tibur's solitary brow,
He reared prodigious piles, with marble brought
From distant realms, and exquisitely wrought: 130
Prodigious piles! that towered o'er Fortune's shrine,
As those of gelt Posides, Jove, o'er thine!
While thus Centronius crowded seat on seat,
He spent his cash, and mortgaged his estate;
Yet left enough his family to content: 135
Which his mad son, to the last farthing, spent,
While, building on, he strove, with fond desire,
To shame the stately structures of his sire!
Sprung from a father who the sabbath fears,
There is, who naught but clouds and skies reveres; 140
And shuns the taste, by old tradition led,
Of human flesh, and swine's, with equal dread:--
This first: the prepuce next he lays aside,
And, taught the Roman ritual to deride,
Clings to the Jewish, and observes with awe 145
All Moses bade in his mysterious law:
And, therefore, to the circumcised alone
Will point the road, or make the fountain known;
Warned by his bigot sire, who whiled away,
Sacred to sloth, each seventh revolving day. 150
But youth, so prone to follow other ills,
Are driven to AVARICE, against their wills;
For this grave vice, assuming Virtue's guise,
Seems Virtue's self, to undiscerning eyes.
The miser, hence, a frugal man, they name; 155
And hence, they follow, with their whole acclaim,
The griping wretch, who strictlier guards his store,
Than if the Hesperian dragon kept the door.--
Add that the vulgar, still a slave to gold,
The worthy, in the wealthy, man behold; 160
And, reasoning from the fortune he has made,
Hail him, A perfect master of his trade!
And true, indeed, it is--such MASTERS raise
Immense estates; no matter, by what ways;
But raise they do, with brows in sweat still dyed, 165
With forge still glowing, and with sledge still plied.
The father, by the love of wealth possest,
Convinced--the covetous alone are blest,
And that, nor past, nor present times, e'er knew
A poor man happy--bids his son pursue 170
The paths they take, the courses they affect,
And follow, at the heels, this thriving sect.
Vice boasts its elements, like other arts;
These, he inculcates first: anon, imparts
The petty tricks of saving; last, inspires, 175
Of endless wealth, the insatiable desires.--
Hungry himself, his hungry slaves he cheats,
With scanty measures, and unfaithful weights;
And sees them lessen, with increasing dread,
The flinty fragments of his vinewed bread. 180
In dog-days, when the sun, with fervent power,
Corrupts the freshest meat from hour to hour,
He saves the last night's hash, sets by a dish
Of sodden beans, and scraps of summer fish,
And half a stinking shad, and a few strings 185
Of a chopped leek--all told, like sacred things,
And sealed with caution, though the sight and smell
Would a starved beggar from the board repel.
But why this dire avidity of gain?
This mass collected with such toil and pain? 190
Since 'tis the veriest madness, to live poor,
And die with bags and coffers running o'er.
Besides, while thus the streams of affluence roll,
They nurse the eternal dropsy of the soul,
For thirst of wealth still grows with wealth increast, 195
And they desire it less, who have it least.--
Now swell his wants: one manor is too small,
Another must be bought, house, lands, and all;
Still "cribbed confined," he spurns the narrow bounds,
And turns an eye on every neighbor's grounds: 200
There all allures; his crops appear a foil
To the rich produce of their happier soil.
"And this, I'll purchase, with the grove," he cries,
"And that fair hill, where the gray olives rise."
Then, if the owner to no price will yield 205
(Resolved to keep the hereditary field),
Whole droves of oxen, starved to this intent,
Among his springing corn, by night, are sent,
To revel there, till not a blade be seen,
And all appear like a close-shaven green. 210
"Monstrous!" you say--And yet, 'twere hard to tell,
What numbers, tricks like these have forced to sell.
But, sure, the general voice has marked his name,
And given him up to infamy and shame:--
"And what of that?" he cries. "I valued more 215
A single lupine, added to my store,
Than all the country's praise; if cursed by fate
With the scant produce of a small estate."--
'Tis well! no more shall age or grief annoy,
But nights of peace succeed to days of joy, 220
If more of ground to you alone pertain,
Than Rome possessed, in Numa's pious reign!
Since then, the veteran, whose brave breast was gored,
By the fierce Pyrrhic, or Molossian sword,
Hardly received for all his service past, 225
And all his wounds, TWO ACRES at the last;
The meed of toil and blood! yet never thought
His country thankless, or his pains ill bought.
For then, this little glebe, improved with care,
Largely supplied, with vegetable fare, 230
The good old man, the wife in childbed laid,
And four hale boys, that round the cottage played,
Three free-born, one a slave: while, on the board,
Huge porringers, with wholesome pottage stored,
Smoked for their elder brothers, who were now, 235
Hungry and tired, expected from the plow.--
TWO ACRES will not now, so changed the times,
Afford a garden plot:--and hence our crimes!
For not a vice that taints the human soul,
More frequent points the sword, or drugs the bowl, 240
Than the dire lust of an "untamed estate"--
Since, he who covets wealth, disdains to wait:
Law threatens, Conscience calls--yet on he hies,
And this he silences, and that defies,
Fear, Shame--he bears down all, and, with loose rein, 245
Sweeps headlong o'er the alluring paths of gain!
"Let us, my sons, contented with our lot,
Enjoy, in peace, our hillock and our cot"
(The good old Marsian to his children said),
"And from our labor seek our daily bread. 250
So shall we please the rural Powers, whose care,
And kindly aid, first taught us to prepare
The golden grain, what time we ranged the wood,
A savage race, for acorns, savage food!
The poor who, with inverted skins, defy 255
The lowering tempest and the freezing sky,
Who, without shame, without reluctance go,
In clouted brogues, through mire and drifted snow,
Ne'er think of ill: 'tis purple, boys, alone,
Which leads to guilt--purple, to us unknown." 260
Thus, to their children, spoke the sires of yore.
Now, autumn's sickly heats are scarcely o'er,
Ere, while deep midnight yet involves the skies,
The impatient father shakes his son, and cries,
"What, ho, boy, wake! Up; pleas, rejoinders draw, 265
Turn o'er the rubric of our ancient law;
Up, up, and study: or, with brief in hand,
Petition Lælius for a small command,
A captain's!--Lælius loves a spreading chest,
Broad shoulders, tangled locks, and hairy breast: 270
The British towers, the Moorish tents destroy,
And the rich Eagle, at threescore, enjoy!"
"But if the trump, prelusive to the fight,
And the long labors of the camp affright,
Go, look for merchandise of readiest vent, 275
Which yields a sure return of cent. per cent.
Buy this, no matter what; the ware is good,
Though not allowed on this side Tiber's flood:
Hides, unguents, mark me, boy, are equal things,
And gain smells sweet, from whatsoe'er it springs. 280
This golden sentence, which the Powers of heaven,
Which Jove himself, might glory to have given,
Will never, never, from your thoughts, I trust--
NONE QUESTION WHENCE IT COMES; BUT COME IT MUST."
This, when the lisping race a farthing ask, 285
Old women set them, as a previous task;
The wondrous apophthegm all run to get,
And learn it sooner than their alphabet.
But why this haste? Without your care, vain fool!
The pupil will, ere long, the tutor school: 290
Sleep, then, in peace; secure to be outdone,
Like Telamon, or Peleus, by your son.
O, yet indulge awhile his tender years:
The seeds of vice, sown by your fostering cares,
Have scarce ta'en root; but they will spring at length, 295
"Grow with his growth, and strengthen with his strength."