A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition |
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![]() | A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | ![]() |
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Sat. III.
[All Songsters have this Vice; they ne'er can bring]
All Songsters have this Vice; they ne'er can bring,
When they are ask'd, their froward Souls to sing;
Yet chaunt it forth, unask'd, from Morn to Night;
Such was Tigellius, most inconstant Wight!
Even Cæsar, who might well his Power have shewn,
If by his Father's Friendship and his own
He beg'd a Song, was sure to beg in vain,
Yet, when the Whim prevail'd, in endless Strain,
Through the whole Feast the jovial Catch he plies,
From Base to Treble o'er the Gamut flies.
When they are ask'd, their froward Souls to sing;
Yet chaunt it forth, unask'd, from Morn to Night;
Such was Tigellius, most inconstant Wight!
Even Cæsar, who might well his Power have shewn,
If by his Father's Friendship and his own
He beg'd a Song, was sure to beg in vain,
Yet, when the Whim prevail'd, in endless Strain,
Through the whole Feast the jovial Catch he plies,
From Base to Treble o'er the Gamut flies.
Nothing was of a Piece in the whole Man;
Sometimes he like a frighted Coward ran,
Whose Foes are at his Heels; now soft and slow
He mov'd, like Folks, who in Procession go.
Now with two hundred Slaves he crouds his Train;
Now walks with ten. In high and haughty Strain
At Morn, of Kings and Governors he prates;
At Night—“A frugal Table, O ye Fates,
“A little Shell the sacred Salt to hold,
“And Clothes, though coarse, to keep me from the Cold.”
Yet give this Wight, thus frugally content,
A thousand Pound, 'tis every Penny spent
Within the Week: He drank the Night away
Till rising Dawn, then snor'd out all the Day.
Sure such a various Creature ne'er was known.
“But have you, Friend, no Vices of your own?”
That I have Vices, frankly I confess,
But of a different kind, and somewhat less.
Sometimes he like a frighted Coward ran,
Whose Foes are at his Heels; now soft and slow
He mov'd, like Folks, who in Procession go.
Now with two hundred Slaves he crouds his Train;
Now walks with ten. In high and haughty Strain
At Morn, of Kings and Governors he prates;
At Night—“A frugal Table, O ye Fates,
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“And Clothes, though coarse, to keep me from the Cold.”
Yet give this Wight, thus frugally content,
A thousand Pound, 'tis every Penny spent
Within the Week: He drank the Night away
Till rising Dawn, then snor'd out all the Day.
Sure such a various Creature ne'er was known.
“But have you, Friend, no Vices of your own?”
That I have Vices, frankly I confess,
But of a different kind, and somewhat less.
Mænius on absent Novius vents his Spleen;
And do you think your Follies are unseen?
Another answers—No. I well perceive,
Quoth Mænius, but a kind Indulgence give
To my own Faults. This is a foolish Love,
And vicious, which our Censure should reprove:
For wherefore, while you carelessly pass by
Your own worst Vices with unheeding Eye,
Why so sharp-sighted in another's Fame,
Strong as an Eagle's Ken, or Dragon's Beam?
But know, that he with equal Spleen shall view,
With equal Rigour shall thy Faults pursue.
And do you think your Follies are unseen?
Another answers—No. I well perceive,
Quoth Mænius, but a kind Indulgence give
To my own Faults. This is a foolish Love,
And vicious, which our Censure should reprove:
For wherefore, while you carelessly pass by
Your own worst Vices with unheeding Eye,
Why so sharp-sighted in another's Fame,
Strong as an Eagle's Ken, or Dragon's Beam?
But know, that he with equal Spleen shall view,
With equal Rigour shall thy Faults pursue.
Your Friend is passionate; perhaps unfit
For the brisk Petulance of modern Wit;
His Hair ill-cut, his Robe, that aukward flows,
Or his large Shoes to Raillery expose
The Man you love; yet is he not possest
Of Virtues, with which very few are blest?
And underneath this rough, uncouth Disguise
A Genius of extensive Knowledge lies.
For the brisk Petulance of modern Wit;
His Hair ill-cut, his Robe, that aukward flows,
Or his large Shoes to Raillery expose
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Of Virtues, with which very few are blest?
And underneath this rough, uncouth Disguise
A Genius of extensive Knowledge lies.
Search your own Breast and mark with honest Care
What Seeds of Folly Nature planted there,
Or Custom rais'd; for a neglected Field
Shall for the Fire its Thorns and Thistles yield.
What Seeds of Folly Nature planted there,
Or Custom rais'd; for a neglected Field
Shall for the Fire its Thorns and Thistles yield.
And yet a shorter Method we may find,
As Lovers, to their Fair-one fondly blind,
Even on her Ugliness with Transport gaze;
For Hagne's Wen can good Balbinus please.
Oh! were our Weakness to our Friends the same,
And stamp'd by Virtue with some honest Name.
As Lovers, to their Fair-one fondly blind,
Even on her Ugliness with Transport gaze;
For Hagne's Wen can good Balbinus please.
Oh! were our Weakness to our Friends the same,
And stamp'd by Virtue with some honest Name.
Let us, at least, in Friendship prove as mild,
As a fond Parent to his favourite Child.
If with distorted Eyes the Urchin glares,
“O the dear Boy, how prettily he stares!”
Is he of dwarfish and abortive Size?
“Sweet little Moppet,” the fond Father cries:
Or is th' unshapen Cub deform'd and lame?
He kindly lisps him o'er some tender Name.
As a fond Parent to his favourite Child.
If with distorted Eyes the Urchin glares,
“O the dear Boy, how prettily he stares!”
Is he of dwarfish and abortive Size?
“Sweet little Moppet,” the fond Father cries:
Or is th' unshapen Cub deform'd and lame?
He kindly lisps him o'er some tender Name.
Thus, if your Friend's too frugally severe,
Let him a wise Oeconomist appear.
Is he, perhaps, impertinent and vain?
“The pleasant Creature means to entertain.”
Is he too free to prate, or frankly rude?
“'Tis manly Plainness all, and Fortitude.”
Is he too warm? No. Spirited and bold.
Thus shall we gain new Friends, and keep the old.
But we distort their Virtue to a Crime,
And joy th' untainted Vessel to begrime.
Have we a modest Friend, and void of Art?
“He's a fat-headed Slave, and cold of Heart.”
While we converse with an ill-natur'd Age,
Where Calumny and Envy lawless rage,
Is there a Man by long Experience wise,
Still on his Guard, nor open to Surprize?
His cautious Wisdom and prudential Fear,
Shall Artifice and false Disguise appear.
Let him a wise Oeconomist appear.
Is he, perhaps, impertinent and vain?
“The pleasant Creature means to entertain.”
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“'Tis manly Plainness all, and Fortitude.”
Is he too warm? No. Spirited and bold.
Thus shall we gain new Friends, and keep the old.
But we distort their Virtue to a Crime,
And joy th' untainted Vessel to begrime.
Have we a modest Friend, and void of Art?
“He's a fat-headed Slave, and cold of Heart.”
While we converse with an ill-natur'd Age,
Where Calumny and Envy lawless rage,
Is there a Man by long Experience wise,
Still on his Guard, nor open to Surprize?
His cautious Wisdom and prudential Fear,
Shall Artifice and false Disguise appear.
If any one of simple, thoughtless Kind,
(Such as you oft your careless Poet find)
Who Life's politer Manners never knew,
If, while we read, or some fond Scheme pursue,
He teize us with his meer Impertinence,
We cry, the Creature wants even common Sense.
Alas! what Laws; of how severe a Strain,
Against ourselves we thoughtlessly ordain?
For we have all our Vices, and the best
Is he, who with the fewest is opprest.
(Such as you oft your careless Poet find)
Who Life's politer Manners never knew,
If, while we read, or some fond Scheme pursue,
He teize us with his meer Impertinence,
We cry, the Creature wants even common Sense.
Alas! what Laws; of how severe a Strain,
Against ourselves we thoughtlessly ordain?
For we have all our Vices, and the best
Is he, who with the fewest is opprest.
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A kinder Friend, who balances my good,
And bad together, as in Truth he should,
If haply my good Qualities prevail,
Inclines indulgent to the sinking Scale.
For like Indulgence let his Friendship plead,
His Merits be with equal Measure weigh'd;
For he, who hopes his Bile shall not offend,
Should over-look the Pimples of his Friend,
And even in Justice to his own Defects,
At least should grant the Pardon he expects.
And bad together, as in Truth he should,
If haply my good Qualities prevail,
Inclines indulgent to the sinking Scale.
For like Indulgence let his Friendship plead,
His Merits be with equal Measure weigh'd;
For he, who hopes his Bile shall not offend,
Should over-look the Pimples of his Friend,
And even in Justice to his own Defects,
At least should grant the Pardon he expects.
But, since we never from the Breast of Fools
Can root their Passions, yet while Reason rules,
Let her hold forth her Scales with equal Hand,
Justly to punish, as the Crimes demand.
Can root their Passions, yet while Reason rules,
Let her hold forth her Scales with equal Hand,
Justly to punish, as the Crimes demand.
If a poor Slave, who takes away your Plate,
Lick the rich Sauce, the half-cold Fragments eat,
Yet should you crucify the Wretch, we swear
Not Labeo's Madness can with thine compare.
But is this Madness less than yours? A Friend
With some slight Folly may perhaps offend:
Forgive him, or with Justice you appear
Of harden'd Kind, inhumanly severe:
Yet you avoid him, and with Horrour shun,
As Debtors from the ruthless Ruso run,
Who damns the Wretches on th' appointed Day
His Interest or Principal to pay,
Or, like a Captive, stretch the listning Ear,
His tedious Tales of History to hear.
Lick the rich Sauce, the half-cold Fragments eat,
Yet should you crucify the Wretch, we swear
Not Labeo's Madness can with thine compare.
But is this Madness less than yours? A Friend
With some slight Folly may perhaps offend:
Forgive him, or with Justice you appear
Of harden'd Kind, inhumanly severe:
Yet you avoid him, and with Horrour shun,
As Debtors from the ruthless Ruso run,
Who damns the Wretches on th' appointed Day
His Interest or Principal to pay,
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His tedious Tales of History to hear.
A Friend has foul'd my Couch; ah! deep Disgrace!
Or off the Table thrown some high-wrought Vase,
Or, hungry, snatch'd a Chicken off my Plat;
Shall I for this a good Companion hate?
What if he robb'd me, or his Trust betray'd,
Or broke the sacred Promise he had made?
Or off the Table thrown some high-wrought Vase,
Or, hungry, snatch'd a Chicken off my Plat;
Shall I for this a good Companion hate?
What if he robb'd me, or his Trust betray'd,
Or broke the sacred Promise he had made?
Who hold all Crimes alike are deep distrest,
When we appeal to Truth's impartial Test.
Sense, Custom, social Good, from whence arise
All Forms of Right and Wrong, the Fact denies.
When we appeal to Truth's impartial Test.
Sense, Custom, social Good, from whence arise
All Forms of Right and Wrong, the Fact denies.
When the first Mortals crawling rose to Birth,
Speechless and wretched from their Mother-Earth,
For Caves and Acorns, then the Food of Life,
With Nails and Fists they held a bloodless Strife,
But soon improv'd, with Clubs they bolder fought,
And various Arms, which sad Experience wrought,
'Till Words, to fix the wandering Voice, were found,
And Names impress'd a Meaning upon Sound:
And now they cease from War; their Towns inclose
With formidable Walls, and Laws compose
To strike the Thief, and Highwayman with Dread,
And vindicate the sacred Marriage-Bed.
For Woman, long ere Helen's fatal Charms,
Destructive Woman! set the World in Arms:
But the first Heroes died unknown to Fame,
Like Beasts who ravish'd the uncertain Dame;
When, as the stoutest Bull commands the rest,
The weaker by the stronger was opprest.
Speechless and wretched from their Mother-Earth,
For Caves and Acorns, then the Food of Life,
With Nails and Fists they held a bloodless Strife,
But soon improv'd, with Clubs they bolder fought,
And various Arms, which sad Experience wrought,
'Till Words, to fix the wandering Voice, were found,
And Names impress'd a Meaning upon Sound:
And now they cease from War; their Towns inclose
With formidable Walls, and Laws compose
To strike the Thief, and Highwayman with Dread,
And vindicate the sacred Marriage-Bed.
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Destructive Woman! set the World in Arms:
But the first Heroes died unknown to Fame,
Like Beasts who ravish'd the uncertain Dame;
When, as the stoutest Bull commands the rest,
The weaker by the stronger was opprest.
Turn o'er the World's great Annals, and you find,
That Laws were first invented by Mankind
To stop Oppression's Rage; for though we learn,
By Nature, Good from Evil to discern:
What we should wise pursue, or cautious fly:
Yet can she never, with a constant Eye,
Of legal Justice mark each nice Extreme;
Nor can right Reason prove the Crime the same,
To rob a Garden, or, by Fear unaw'd,
To steal, by Night, the sacred Things of God.
That Laws were first invented by Mankind
To stop Oppression's Rage; for though we learn,
By Nature, Good from Evil to discern:
What we should wise pursue, or cautious fly:
Yet can she never, with a constant Eye,
Of legal Justice mark each nice Extreme;
Nor can right Reason prove the Crime the same,
To rob a Garden, or, by Fear unaw'd,
To steal, by Night, the sacred Things of God.
Then let the Punishment be fairly weigh'd
Against the Crime; nor let the Wretch be flay'd,
Who scarce deserv'd the Lash.—I cannot fear,
That you shall prove too tenderly severe,
While you assert all Vices are the same;
And threaten, that were yours the Power supreme,
Robbers and Thieves your equal Rage should feel,
Uprooted by the same avenging Steel.
Against the Crime; nor let the Wretch be flay'd,
Who scarce deserv'd the Lash.—I cannot fear,
That you shall prove too tenderly severe,
While you assert all Vices are the same;
And threaten, that were yours the Power supreme,
Robbers and Thieves your equal Rage should feel,
Uprooted by the same avenging Steel.
Is not the Wise a Shoemaker profest,
Handsome and rich; of Monarchy possest,
Why wish for what you have?
Handsome and rich; of Monarchy possest,
Why wish for what you have?
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Yet hold, my Friend,
And better to the Stoic's Sense attend.
For though the Wise nor Shoes, nor Slippers made,
Yet is the wise a Shoemaker by Trade;
As, though Hermogenes may sing no more,
He knows the whole Extent of Music's Power;
Alfenus, turn'd a Lawyer in his Pride,
His Shop shut up, his Razors thrown aside,
Was still a Barber: So the Wise alone
Is of all Trades, though exercising none,
And reigns a Monarch, though without a Throne.
Horace.
Great King of Kings, unless you drive away
This pressing Croud, the Boys in wanton Play
Will pluck you by the Beard, while you shall growl,
Wretch as thou art, and burst in Spleen of Soul:
In short, while in Farthing-Bath you reign,
With only one poor Life-guard in your Train:
While the few Friends, with whom I joy to live,
Fool as I am, my Follies can forgive,
And I to them the same Indulgence shew,
No Bliss like mine thy Kingship can bestow.
![]() | A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | ![]() |