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47
THE CONSUL C. FANNIUS TO FANNIUS DIDIUS.
ARGUMENT.
C. FANNIUS, being concerned at the voluptuous life of Plautus, writes Fannius Didius the following epistle; and further to enforce the sentiment or principle of self-correction, frankly reveals his own weakness and triumph. C. Fannius is here considered as the instructor, Fannius Didius being younger than himself. The simplicity of the antients is in the style attempted.
I marvel, Didius, at our friend's expence,
His perfumes, baths, and stuffs from Carthage soft
To an extreme, his tunica of gauze,
His cloak of knotted gold, his dining bed
With purple velvet drest.—When thus replete
He throws him backward from the luscious treat,
He brings Porcum Trojanum to my thought,
Once so condemn'd by Cincius. For the love
I bear his father's fame, I will reprove
Voluptuous Plautus in the senate. Why
Didst thou not counsel him of Livia's worth,
When from his house he turn'd the gentle maid?
His perfumes, baths, and stuffs from Carthage soft
To an extreme, his tunica of gauze,
His cloak of knotted gold, his dining bed
With purple velvet drest.—When thus replete
He throws him backward from the luscious treat,
He brings Porcum Trojanum to my thought,
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I bear his father's fame, I will reprove
Voluptuous Plautus in the senate. Why
Didst thou not counsel him of Livia's worth,
When from his house he turn'd the gentle maid?
We well remember Fulvia of the vale,
Who bore so patiently our boyish feats,
Oft meant to anger her. Contented still
She glides serenely, as the sun in spring,
Westward of life. Our Saturnalia come
The fourteenth day, when Didius I expect
To help me serve my bond-men.—As I stray'd
One morn ere Sol ascended, having pass'd
A restless night; not studying much my path,
I stopp'd to buy a pullet at the door
Of aged Fulvia, who, whilst trussing back
The well-pluck'd pinions, look'd at me, and smil'd.—
I gaz'd full at the woman—
Who bore so patiently our boyish feats,
Oft meant to anger her. Contented still
She glides serenely, as the sun in spring,
Westward of life. Our Saturnalia come
The fourteenth day, when Didius I expect
To help me serve my bond-men.—As I stray'd
One morn ere Sol ascended, having pass'd
A restless night; not studying much my path,
I stopp'd to buy a pullet at the door
Of aged Fulvia, who, whilst trussing back
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I gaz'd full at the woman—
“Aye, you blush,
Good master Fannius! But it matters not
How humbly some folk live, since all would place
The best things outward: I have tarried here
Whilst mightier spirits, who bewitch'd the crowd
By boasting their own virtues, sleep!—Yet me
You now behold binding, in hope to please,
My pullet's yellow feet.”
Good master Fannius! But it matters not
How humbly some folk live, since all would place
The best things outward: I have tarried here
Whilst mightier spirits, who bewitch'd the crowd
By boasting their own virtues, sleep!—Yet me
You now behold binding, in hope to please,
My pullet's yellow feet.”
Not three days since
I had to the young wife of Tellus giv'n
A yellow scarf drawn through the Carthage loom,
To lure her from the plodding clown.—The scarf
Rose on my thought; secret confusion threw
O'er my stern features a rebellious tint,
Which reason, prudence, nor ev'n craft could hide.
Didius, 'twas painful!—Fulvia laugh'd aloud,
Still praising her cheap bargain. “Nay,” said I,
“Thy pullet's feet are yellow, and she's tough—
(Not knowing where to try the toughest part)
“I hate a yellow-footed fowl!”
I had to the young wife of Tellus giv'n
A yellow scarf drawn through the Carthage loom,
To lure her from the plodding clown.—The scarf
Rose on my thought; secret confusion threw
O'er my stern features a rebellious tint,
Which reason, prudence, nor ev'n craft could hide.
Didius, 'twas painful!—Fulvia laugh'd aloud,
Still praising her cheap bargain. “Nay,” said I,
“Thy pullet's feet are yellow, and she's tough—
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“I hate a yellow-footed fowl!”
“I sold
This morn so early twenty worse to one
Who gave the price, nor murmur'd. Yellow! What
Are yellow-footed pullets worse for you
Than for poor Tellus, who his camel drives
Beyond the Sabine hill, in hope to make
Great profit by them?”
This morn so early twenty worse to one
Who gave the price, nor murmur'd. Yellow! What
Are yellow-footed pullets worse for you
Than for poor Tellus, who his camel drives
Beyond the Sabine hill, in hope to make
Great profit by them?”
“Tellus is a dolt!
Would he and his lean camel were adrift
On the wide ocean!”—“Now, I wonder you,
Good Caius Fannius, can so hate the hind.
Contemplative of gain, he roves the waste,
Braves the chill morn, fervour of noon, rough wind,
And melancholy thunder! Oft I steal,
Fast as my strength permits, to Nisa's hearth
Within yon wood, where Orchius erst was wont
To shun the noise of Rome, peruse the writs,
And weigh the tribune's bold remonstrance, when
The people clamour'd for th'Agrarian law.
Ah me! how time steals our best friends! How oft
Cato the Censor to this cottage came,
Drank my ewes' milk, tasted my eggs, and stroked
This sickly kid that loiters near the fire!—
He us'd to say, ‘Fulvia, thy blameless life
Makes thy claim high for favour from the gods.’—
You, prudent Consul, like a greedy churl
Higgling for pennyworths, this pullet scorn
For that (though plump) her feet are yellow. Ha!
Yellow suits some complexions!”
Would he and his lean camel were adrift
On the wide ocean!”—“Now, I wonder you,
Good Caius Fannius, can so hate the hind.
Contemplative of gain, he roves the waste,
Braves the chill morn, fervour of noon, rough wind,
And melancholy thunder! Oft I steal,
Fast as my strength permits, to Nisa's hearth
Within yon wood, where Orchius erst was wont
To shun the noise of Rome, peruse the writs,
And weigh the tribune's bold remonstrance, when
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Ah me! how time steals our best friends! How oft
Cato the Censor to this cottage came,
Drank my ewes' milk, tasted my eggs, and stroked
This sickly kid that loiters near the fire!—
He us'd to say, ‘Fulvia, thy blameless life
Makes thy claim high for favour from the gods.’—
You, prudent Consul, like a greedy churl
Higgling for pennyworths, this pullet scorn
For that (though plump) her feet are yellow. Ha!
Yellow suits some complexions!”
Down I threw
My purse well-fill'd for Fulvia, left the hut,
Somewhat too proudly, yet with virtue fir'd.
My purse well-fill'd for Fulvia, left the hut,
Somewhat too proudly, yet with virtue fir'd.
Mortals, my friend, resemble most the gods
By persevering long in fine employ.
The soul's best faculties are then sublime;
In firm continuance more exalted rise.
At length, communicating with her powers,
She dares adopt her independent plans,
And forms her sacred friendships. Thus secure
She stems the approaching sea of giddy hope,
Looks far beyond the passing scene, and proves
Herself the relative of Deity.
By persevering long in fine employ.
The soul's best faculties are then sublime;
In firm continuance more exalted rise.
At length, communicating with her powers,
She dares adopt her independent plans,
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She stems the approaching sea of giddy hope,
Looks far beyond the passing scene, and proves
Herself the relative of Deity.
Thus musingly I wander'd. Phœbus chas'd
The shadowy dark o'er his lov'd Tiber. I
Had to fair Nisa's image bid farewel—
Nisa, too long the tyrant of my soul!
Arm'd thus by strong reflection, I beheld
Through virtue's medium nature's beauteous face,
And read my little book of laws. Afar
The horn resounded—slowly round the hill
Stole camels with their drivers. Converse loud
Proclaim'd their busy meaning. 'Mid the troop
Young Tellus shone the fairest; think for me—
Feel in imagination how my heart
Labour'd with big emotion! Didius, who
For such a moment would my pain endure,
To him I'd give my office, and be Tellus!
The shadowy dark o'er his lov'd Tiber. I
Had to fair Nisa's image bid farewel—
Nisa, too long the tyrant of my soul!
Arm'd thus by strong reflection, I beheld
Through virtue's medium nature's beauteous face,
And read my little book of laws. Afar
The horn resounded—slowly round the hill
Stole camels with their drivers. Converse loud
Proclaim'd their busy meaning. 'Mid the troop
Young Tellus shone the fairest; think for me—
Feel in imagination how my heart
Labour'd with big emotion! Didius, who
For such a moment would my pain endure,
To him I'd give my office, and be Tellus!
The youth loiter'd his pace to wish me well;
Bow'd—thank'd the gods, that Caius Fannius liv'd
Warm in the cause of Rome.—Where was the flow
Of eloquence for which thy friend is fam'd
E'en at the Court of Macedon? I stood
A silent, struggling, meditative man.
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Warm in the cause of Rome.—Where was the flow
Of eloquence for which thy friend is fam'd
E'en at the Court of Macedon? I stood
A silent, struggling, meditative man.
As Tellus lessen'd in the distant view,
I seem'd to breathe more freely; ev'ry spray
Bent with some feather'd lover, who prolong'd
The melting melody, as if afraid
To own his beauteous mate whilst I was near.
I seem'd to breathe more freely; ev'ry spray
Bent with some feather'd lover, who prolong'd
The melting melody, as if afraid
To own his beauteous mate whilst I was near.
“Why should I make you lonely, gentle birds?
Hold your soft converse: I ne'er widow'd yet
Hearts mutually combin'd by sweet regard.”
Hold your soft converse: I ne'er widow'd yet
Hearts mutually combin'd by sweet regard.”
Turning to seek my home, I paus'd—exclaim'd—
“Tellus! how blest with confidence and love,
Corrected wishes, beauty, and content!
Fannius must envy thee.” Brown woods obscur'd
And shut me from his sight; with him went on
My meditations. Phœbus warm'd the air,
Awak'd the drowsy atoms from their sleep
To serve the cause of Jove; tipp'd ev'ry dart
Venus bequeath'd her boy with sevenfold heat,
To strike my cool philosophy.
“Tellus! how blest with confidence and love,
Corrected wishes, beauty, and content!
Fannius must envy thee.” Brown woods obscur'd
And shut me from his sight; with him went on
My meditations. Phœbus warm'd the air,
Awak'd the drowsy atoms from their sleep
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Venus bequeath'd her boy with sevenfold heat,
To strike my cool philosophy.
“Great Jove,
Direct me toward the senate-house!”—My pray'r
Ascended slowly thro' the glowing sphere,
Where fiends laugh at good purposes, to heaven.
The path I chose unknowingly, by chance
Led me 'mid labyrinths to the cot that held
Too lovely Nisa! Poverty her guard,
No massy bar secur'd the crazy door;
Emblem of shatter'd fortunes!—Here I paus'd—
Reflected much on liberty, on man,
On privilege, on absolute will, on taste
Giv'n him to chase sweet Pleasure thro' the world,
Partake her smiles, to her indulgent arms
Commend the object he adores, and share
(O gem invaluable!) a guileless heart.
Deceit hung on my reasoning, wrapp'd her ills
In seeming purity, abruptly led
My feet within the threshold—On the hearth
The kitten rounded in sweet slumber lay,
Whilst the low side-board (stranger to the plane)
Held cheese pale curded, with the browner loaf,
Cut late by Tellus for his hard day's fare.
Where lives the man who would not here have shook
Fearful of profanation?—On the wheel
Hung snowy fleeces, destin'd for the hand
Of Nisa. Lives the man, being lost thus far
Unnotic'd 'mid the captivating maze
Of wild enchanting, who could hence have gone,
Nor trusted to his destiny? I left
The lowest hearth; not e'en the kitten woke
To mew at my presumption. O'er the hills
The faithful dog attended Tellus. Light
Through an half-open'd casement threw its rays.
Here stood no Hercules, no threat'ning god
By Art ill-fashion'd, and by Nature scorn'd,
To puzzle man; here no vindictive Mars,
Too fond of fury, call'd for off'rings; Peace
And Concord were the sole Penates, save
Majestic Juno, who a mystic crown
Held high for those who dar'd obtain it. Robes
Of milk-white yarn the smiling goddess wore,
Wrought by young Nisa, fairer than the fleece.
From these I turn'd, neglecting their dread pow'r,
To gaze on charms of innocence; for this,
I stood near sleeping Nisa. We remark'd
That rose, so planted by thy gard'ner's care;
She cheer'd the yew-shade waving near thy hall:
So broke the cheek of Nisa thro' her hair,
Whilst her bright eyes yet lay in darkness. Gods!
Not to have lov'd, had prov'd my senses lost
In more than Time's decrepitude! She slept;
Her purity invisibly enchain'd
My wand'ring soul. Didius, this was the hour
When the stern ghost of wise Parellus frown'd
On me! Yet is not dear regard, refin'd
By trial, worth preserving? Time alone
Must stamp the value of our spirit's wealth.
Not thus I then could argue. “Nisa! 'wake,”
I cried, “enchanting creature, 'wake!—The morn
Scarcely befriends thee. Bid me fly—break off
This giddy charm—this influence. In thy breath
The fragrant Loves play round me. Canst thou sleep
When I am near?”—She rais'd her head; the blush
Forsook her cheek, but left the lily there.
“Tellus! Great Jove! is Tellus gone? Ah why
Leave me defenceless?”—Terror seiz'd her frame,
Whilst calling Tellus (careless of a prize).
Direct me toward the senate-house!”—My pray'r
Ascended slowly thro' the glowing sphere,
Where fiends laugh at good purposes, to heaven.
The path I chose unknowingly, by chance
Led me 'mid labyrinths to the cot that held
Too lovely Nisa! Poverty her guard,
No massy bar secur'd the crazy door;
Emblem of shatter'd fortunes!—Here I paus'd—
Reflected much on liberty, on man,
On privilege, on absolute will, on taste
Giv'n him to chase sweet Pleasure thro' the world,
Partake her smiles, to her indulgent arms
Commend the object he adores, and share
(O gem invaluable!) a guileless heart.
Deceit hung on my reasoning, wrapp'd her ills
In seeming purity, abruptly led
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The kitten rounded in sweet slumber lay,
Whilst the low side-board (stranger to the plane)
Held cheese pale curded, with the browner loaf,
Cut late by Tellus for his hard day's fare.
Where lives the man who would not here have shook
Fearful of profanation?—On the wheel
Hung snowy fleeces, destin'd for the hand
Of Nisa. Lives the man, being lost thus far
Unnotic'd 'mid the captivating maze
Of wild enchanting, who could hence have gone,
Nor trusted to his destiny? I left
The lowest hearth; not e'en the kitten woke
To mew at my presumption. O'er the hills
The faithful dog attended Tellus. Light
Through an half-open'd casement threw its rays.
Here stood no Hercules, no threat'ning god
By Art ill-fashion'd, and by Nature scorn'd,
To puzzle man; here no vindictive Mars,
Too fond of fury, call'd for off'rings; Peace
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Majestic Juno, who a mystic crown
Held high for those who dar'd obtain it. Robes
Of milk-white yarn the smiling goddess wore,
Wrought by young Nisa, fairer than the fleece.
From these I turn'd, neglecting their dread pow'r,
To gaze on charms of innocence; for this,
I stood near sleeping Nisa. We remark'd
That rose, so planted by thy gard'ner's care;
She cheer'd the yew-shade waving near thy hall:
So broke the cheek of Nisa thro' her hair,
Whilst her bright eyes yet lay in darkness. Gods!
Not to have lov'd, had prov'd my senses lost
In more than Time's decrepitude! She slept;
Her purity invisibly enchain'd
My wand'ring soul. Didius, this was the hour
When the stern ghost of wise Parellus frown'd
On me! Yet is not dear regard, refin'd
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Must stamp the value of our spirit's wealth.
Not thus I then could argue. “Nisa! 'wake,”
I cried, “enchanting creature, 'wake!—The morn
Scarcely befriends thee. Bid me fly—break off
This giddy charm—this influence. In thy breath
The fragrant Loves play round me. Canst thou sleep
When I am near?”—She rais'd her head; the blush
Forsook her cheek, but left the lily there.
“Tellus! Great Jove! is Tellus gone? Ah why
Leave me defenceless?”—Terror seiz'd her frame,
Whilst calling Tellus (careless of a prize).
O Didius! artless Virtue owns more force
Than Woman gleans from custom. Nisa's sigh
My melting heart spontaneously return'd;
Each pitying wish I breath'd was hers; my fears
Increas'd for Nisa's dear content; my thoughts
Mingled with hers.—The silent pause was fill'd
By Friendship's form, who in her balance weigh'd
My love, and bless'd the sentiment divine.
Than Woman gleans from custom. Nisa's sigh
My melting heart spontaneously return'd;
Each pitying wish I breath'd was hers; my fears
Increas'd for Nisa's dear content; my thoughts
Mingled with hers.—The silent pause was fill'd
By Friendship's form, who in her balance weigh'd
My love, and bless'd the sentiment divine.
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“The scarf, fair Nisa! give me back the scarf!
Yellow suits some complexions; on thy cheek
A purer glow is visible. The scarf—
Quickly restore it.”
Yellow suits some complexions; on thy cheek
A purer glow is visible. The scarf—
Quickly restore it.”
“Heav'n protect your sense!—
What could unsettle Caius Fannius?—Scarf!
Why come you thus untimely? Tellus hates
The colour—Gaudy thing—it lies below
Within our beechen coffer—Scarf! great Jove!
I wot not why you gave it me!”
What could unsettle Caius Fannius?—Scarf!
Why come you thus untimely? Tellus hates
The colour—Gaudy thing—it lies below
Within our beechen coffer—Scarf! great Jove!
I wot not why you gave it me!”
“The cause
Unworthy was of Fannius, and of thee.”—
“You may not parley here. Leave me, and know
Better your estimation—Take your scarf!
Of Nisa think, as of a dream gone by,
When you amid the Senate plead for Rome.”
“Nisa, farewel! Old Fulvia of the Vale
Deserves thy friendship; thank her. Time bequeaths
Forgetfulness to vulgar minds; the good
Nourish remembrance thro' each ling'ring year.”
Unworthy was of Fannius, and of thee.”—
“You may not parley here. Leave me, and know
Better your estimation—Take your scarf!
Of Nisa think, as of a dream gone by,
When you amid the Senate plead for Rome.”
“Nisa, farewel! Old Fulvia of the Vale
Deserves thy friendship; thank her. Time bequeaths
Forgetfulness to vulgar minds; the good
Nourish remembrance thro' each ling'ring year.”
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Nisa was silent. From the scene I flew;
Took back the scarf; to Tellus gave my fields;
Left Nisa faithful; and my virtue grew.
Took back the scarf; to Tellus gave my fields;
Left Nisa faithful; and my virtue grew.
Frugality characterized the first ages of the Roman republic: but, with their conquests and riches, luxury increased to such an excess, that whole goats, hogs, &c. were set on the table at one time. Such a hog, Cincius termed Porcum Trojanum, from the variety of fowl, rabbits, puddings, &c. wherewith it was stuffed. Cincius alluded to the fatal Horse which was the bane of Troy, by concealing within him the armed Grecians.
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