The Satires of Juvenal, Persius, Sulpicia, and Lucilius

rapid course of life. Sooner would you make the dulcimer[1459] suit a tall porter.[1460] Reason stands opposed to you, and whispers in your secret ear, not to allow any one to do that which he will spoil in the doing. The public law of men--nay, Nature herself contains this principle--that feeble ignorance should hold all acts as forbidden. Dost thou dilute hellebore, that knowest not how to confine the balance-tongue[1461] to a definite point? The very essence of medicine[1462] forbids this. If a high-shoed[1463] plowman, that knows not even the morning star, should ask for a ship, Melicerta[1464] would cry out that all modesty had vanished from the earth.[1465] Has Philosophy granted to you to walk uprightly? and do you know how to discern the semblance of truth; lest it give a counterfeit tinkle, though merely gold laid over brass? And those things which ought to be pursued, or in turn avoided, have you first marked the one with chalk, and then the other with charcoal? Are you moderate in your desires? frugal in your household? kind to your friends? Can you at one time strictly close, at another unlock your granaries? And can you pass by the coin fixed in the mud,[1466] nor swallow down with your gullet the Mercurial saliva? When you can say with truth, "These are my principles, this I hold;" then be free and wise too, under the auspices of the prætor and of Jove himself. But if, since you were but lately one of our batch, you preserve your old skin, and though polished on the surface,[1467] retain the cunning fox[1468] beneath your vapid breast; then I recall all that I just now granted, and draw back the rope.[1469] Philosophy has given you nothing; nay, put forth your finger[1470]--and what act is there so trivial?--and you do wrong. But there is no incense by which you can gain from the gods this boon,[1471] that one short half-ounce of Right can be inherent in fools. To mix these things together is an impossibility; nor can you, since you are in all these things else a mere ditcher, move but three measures of the satyr Bathyllus.[1472] "_I am_ free." Whence do you take this as granted, you that are in subjection to so many things?[1473] Do you recognize no master, save him from whom the prætor's rod sets you free? If he has thundered out, "Go, boy, and carry my strigils to the baths of Crispinus![1474] Do you loiter, lazy scoundrel?" This bitter slavery affects not thee; nor does any thing _from without_ enter which can set thy strings in motion.[1475] But if _within_, and in thy morbid breast, there spring up masters, how dost thou come forth with less impunity than those whom the lash[1476] and the terror of their master drives to the strigils? Do you snore lazily in the morning? "Rise!" says Avarice. "Come! rise!" Do you refuse? She is urgent. "Arise!" she says. "I can not." "Rise!" "And what am I to do?" "Do you ask? Import fish[1477] from Pontus, Castoreum,[1478] tow, ebony,[1479] frankincense, purgative Coan wines.[1480] "Be the first to unload from the thirsty camel[1481] his fresh pepper--turn a penny, swear!" "But Jupiter will hear!" "Oh fool! If you aim at living on good terms with Jove, you must go on contented to bore your oft-tasted salt-cellar with your finger!" Now, with girded loins, you fit the skin and wine flagon to your slaves.[1482]--"Quick, to the ship!" Nothing prevents your sweeping over the Ægæan in your big ship, unless cunning luxury should first draw you aside, and hint, "Whither, madman, are you rushing? Whither! what do you want? The manly bile has fermented in your hot breast, which not even a pitcher[1483] of hemlock could quench. Would _you_ bound over the sea? Would _you_ have your dinner on a thwart, seated on a coil of hemp?[1484] while the broad-bottomed jug[1485] exhales the red Veientane[1486] spoiled by the damaged pitch![1487] Why do you covet that the money you had here put out to interest at a modest five per cent., should go on to sweat a greedy eleven per cent.? Indulge your Genius![1488] Let us crop the sweets of life! That you really _live_ is my boon! You will become ashes, a ghost, a gossip's tale! Live, remembering you must die.--The hour flies! This very word I speak is subtracted from it!" What course, now, do you take? You are torn in different directions by a two-fold hook. Do you follow this master or that? You must needs by turns, with doubtful obedience, submit to one, by turns wander forth free. Nor, even though you may have _once_ resisted, or once refused to obey the stern behest, can you say with truth, "I have burst my bonds!" For the dog too by his struggles breaks through his leash, yet even as he flies a long portion of the chain hangs dragging from his neck. "Davus![1489] I intend at once--and I order you to believe me too!--to put an end to my past griefs. (So says Chærestratus, biting his nails to the quick.) Shall I continue to be a disgrace to my sober relations? Shall I make shipwreck[1490] of my patrimony, and lose my good name, before these shameless[1491] doors, while drunk, and with my torch extinguished, I sing[1492] before the reeking doors of Chrysis?" "Well done, my boy, be wise! sacrifice a lamb to the gods who ward off[1493] evil!" "But do you think, Davus, she will weep at being forsaken?" Nonsense! boy, you will be beaten with her red slipper,[1494] for fear you should be inclined to plunge, and gnaw through your close-confining toils,[1495] now fierce and violent. But if she should call you, you would say at once, "What then shall I do?[1496] Shall I not now, when I am invited, and when of her own act she entreats me, go to her?" Had you come away from her heart-whole, you would not, even now. This, this is the man of whom we are in search. It rests not on the wand[1497] which the foolish Lictor brandishes. Is that flatterer[1498] his own master, whom white-robed Ambition[1499] leads gaping with open mouth? "Be on the watch, and heap vetches[1500] bountifully upon the squabbling mob, that old men,[1501] as they sun themselves, may remember our Floralia.--What could be more splendid?" But when Herod's[1502] day is come, and the lamps arranged on the greasy window-sill have disgorged their unctuous smoke, bearing violets, and the thunny's tail floats, hugging the red dish,[1503] and the white pitcher foams with wine: then in silent prayer you move your lips, and grow pale at the sabbaths of the circumcised. Then are the black goblins![1504] and the perils arising from breaking an egg.[1505] Then the huge Galli,[1506] and the one-eyed priestess with her sistrum,[1507] threaten you with the gods inflating your body, unless, you have eaten the prescribed head of garlic[1508] three times of a morning. Were you to say all this among the brawny centurions, huge Pulfenius[1509] would immediately raise his coarse laugh, and hold a hundred Greek philosophers dear at a clipped centussis.[1510] FOOTNOTES: [1409] _Centum voces._ Homer is content with ten. Il., ii., 484, Οὐδ εἴ μοι δέκα μὲν γλῶσσαι δέκα δέ στόματ εἶεν. Virgil squares the number. Georg., ii., 43, "Non mihi si _linguæ centum_ sint, _oraque centum_, Ferrea vox." Æn., vi., 625. Sil., iv., 527, "Non mihi Mæoniæ redeat si gloria linguæ, _Centenas_que pater det Phœbus fundere _voces_, Tot cædes proferre queam." Ov., Met., viii., 532, "Non mihi si _centum_ Deus _ora_ sonantia _linguis_." Fast., ii., 119. [1410] _In carmina._ "That their style and language may be amplified and extended adequately to the greatness and variety of their subjects." [1411] _Hianda._ Juv., vi., 636, "Grande Sophocleo carmen bacchamur hiatu;" alluding to the wide mouths of the tragic masks (οἱ ὑποκριταὶ μέγα κεχηνότες, Luc., Nigrin., i., p. 28, Ben.), or to the "ampullæ et sesquipedalia verba" of the tragedy itself. Hor., A. P., 96. [1412] _Mæsto._ Hor., A. P., 105, "Tristia mæstum vultum verba decent." [1413] _Vulnera_, i. e., "Or whether it be an epic poem on the Parthian war," which was carried on under Nero. The genitive Parthi may be either subjective or objective, probably the former, in spite of Hor., ii., Sat. i., 15, "Aut labentis equo describat vulnera Parthi." [1414] _Ab inguine._ This may either mean, "drawing out the weapon from the wound he has received from the Roman," or may describe the manner in which the Parthian ("versis animosus equis," Hor., i., Od. xix., 11) draws his bow in his retrograde course. ("Miles sagittas et celerem fugam Parthi timet," ii., Od. iii., 17.) Casaubon describes, from Eustathius, three other ways of drawing the bow, παρὰ μαζον, παρ' ὦμον, and παρὰ τὸ δεξιὸν ὠτίον, "from the ear," like our English archers. So Propertius, lib. iv., says of the Gauls, "Virgatis jaculantis ab inguine braccis." El., x., 43. [1415] _Cornutus._ Annæus Cornutus (of the same gens as Mela, Lucan, and Seneca) was distinguished as a tragic poet as well as a Stoic philosopher. He was a native of Leptis, in Africa, and came to Rome in the reign of Nero, where he applied himself with success to the education of young men. He wrote on Philosophy, Rhetoric, and a treatise entitled ἡ ἑλληνικὴ θεολογία. Persius, at the age of sixteen (A.D. 50), placed himself under his charge, and was introduced by him to Lucan; and at his death left him one hundred sestertia and his library. Cornutus kept the books, to the number of seven hundred, but gave back the money to Persius' sisters. Nero, intending to write an epic poem on Roman History, consulted Cornutus among others; but when the rest advised Nero to extend it to four hundred books, Cornutus said, "No one would read them." For this speech Nero was going to put him to death; but contented himself with banishing him. This took place, according to Lubinus, four years after Persius' death; more probably in A.D. 65, when so many of the Annæan gens suffered. (Cf. Clinton in Ann.) Vid. Suid., p. 2161. Dio., lxii., 29. Eus., Chron., A. 2080. Suet. in Vit. Pers. [1416] _Offas._ "Huge goblets of robustious song." Gifford. [1417] _Helicone._ Cf. Prol., 1. 4. Hor., A. P., 230, "Nubes et inania captet." [1418] _Procnes olla._ The "pot of Procne, or Thyestes," is said to _boil_ for them who compose tragedies on the subjects of the unnatural banquets prepared by Procne for Tereus, and by Atreus for Thyestes. Cf., Ov., Met., vi., 424-676. Senec., Thyest. Hor., A. P., 91.--_Cænanda_ implies that these atrocities were to be actually represented on the stage, which the good taste even of Augustus' days would have rejected with horror. Hor., A. P., 182-188. [1419] _Glycon_ was a tragic actor, of whom one Virgilius was part owner. Nero admired him so much that he gave Virgilius three hundred thousand sesterces for his share of him, and set him free. [1420] _Stloppo._ "The noise made by inflating the cheeks, and then forcibly expelling the wind by a sudden blow with the hands." It not improbably comes from λόπος in the sense of an inflated skin; as stlis for lis, stlocus for locus; stlataria from latus. Cf. ad Juv., vii., 134. [1421] _Verba togæ._ Having pointed out the ordinary defects of poets of the day as to choice of subjects, style, and language, Cornutus proceeds to compliment Persius for the exactly contrary merits. First, for the use of words not removed from ordinary use, but such as were in use in the most elegant and polished society of Rome, as distinguished from the rude archaisms then in vogue, or the too familiar vulgarisms of the tunicatus popellus in the provinces, where none assumed the toga till he was carried out to burial. (Juv., Sat. iii, 172.) But then, according to Horace's precept ("Dixeris egregiè si notum callida verbum reddiderit junctura novum," A. P., 47), grace and dignity was added to these by the novelty of effect produced by judicious combination. Cf.