Fishing A translation from the latin of Vanier. Book XV. Upon fish. By the late John Duncombe, with a brief introduction; and passages from English writers, selected as notes |
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Vaniere. Book XV. Of Fish. Translated from the Latin. By I. D. of C. C. Coll. Camb.
Of Fish I sing, and to the rural cares
Now add the labours of my younger years.
These lays, Lemoignon, your protection claim,
Now more improv'd since first they gave me fame;
From hence to tend the doves and vines I taught,
And whate'er else my riper years have wrought.
Now add the labours of my younger years.
These lays, Lemoignon, your protection claim,
Now more improv'd since first they gave me fame;
From hence to tend the doves and vines I taught,
And whate'er else my riper years have wrought.
Here, where in pleasing fables I relate,
How various bodies were transform'd by fate,
Your youthful grandsons may amusement find,
Who, Virtue's seeds now rip'ning in their mind,
Nor yet in Greek or Roman writers read,
But by your life and sage instructions bred,
May nourish in their minds the sweet essays
Of virtue rising to their grandsire's praise.
How various bodies were transform'd by fate,
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Who, Virtue's seeds now rip'ning in their mind,
Nor yet in Greek or Roman writers read,
But by your life and sage instructions bred,
May nourish in their minds the sweet essays
Of virtue rising to their grandsire's praise.
Curson by you was taught to guide the helm,
And that, when dead, you may protect the realm,
You fashion in their turn his blooming heirs,
That, while great Lewis for the world prepares,
A line of future monarchs he may view,
A line of ministers, prepar'd by you;
Whose names and deeds our annals may adorn
In future times and ages yet unborn.
And that, when dead, you may protect the realm,
You fashion in their turn his blooming heirs,
That, while great Lewis for the world prepares,
A line of future monarchs he may view,
A line of ministers, prepar'd by you;
Whose names and deeds our annals may adorn
In future times and ages yet unborn.
Whether the place you for your fish provide,
High hills with springs surround on ev'ry side,
(The work of nature this, and not of art,)
Or, lying in a valley, ev'ry part
By banks with ease may be sustain'd, in all;
Improve the land that to your lot may fall.
High hills with springs surround on ev'ry side,
(The work of nature this, and not of art,)
Or, lying in a valley, ev'ry part
By banks with ease may be sustain'd, in all;
Improve the land that to your lot may fall.
Who dwells on level ground, tho' rais'd with pain,
His banks the waters weight can scarce contain.
Yet let him not despair; for wealth and toil
Will model to his mind the stubborn soil.
Where like a channel you behold a field,
Which, tho' it would increase of harvests yield,
Will yet, if flooded, still more fruitful grow,
Pour in the tide, and let it overflow:
Then fish may nibble grass, beneath the flood,
Where goats were wont to crop their flow'ry food.
His banks the waters weight can scarce contain.
Yet let him not despair; for wealth and toil
Will model to his mind the stubborn soil.
Where like a channel you behold a field,
Which, tho' it would increase of harvests yield,
Will yet, if flooded, still more fruitful grow,
Pour in the tide, and let it overflow:
Then fish may nibble grass, beneath the flood,
Where goats were wont to crop their flow'ry food.
When now for sixty months the scaly breed
Has kept possession of the watry mead;
Drain'd in its turn it will reward the swain
For sixty months with more than promis'd gain;
Thus may a valley fish and harvests yield,
And now appear a lake, and now a field:
Water and corn by turns possess the plain,
And Ceres now, and now the Naiads reign.
Has kept possession of the watry mead;
Drain'd in its turn it will reward the swain
For sixty months with more than promis'd gain;
Thus may a valley fish and harvests yield,
And now appear a lake, and now a field:
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And Ceres now, and now the Naiads reign.
Lakes for their fishes some on hills prepare,
From whence the water with a friendly care
Supplies their gardens with refreshing tides;
Or, under ground, thro' wooden pipes it glides,
Till, with a sudden noise it mounts again,
And sportful falls in sheets of copious rain.
Oft will the streams, o'erflowing, fill the mead
With wond'ring nations of the scaly breed;
The fish exulting wanders o'er the plain,
And now admires the grass and now the grain;
Deep in the spacious furrows lies conceal'd,
Or crops the floating herbage of the field;
Till, left to perish in the mud, too late
He sees his error, and bewails his fate.
By Vice's stream a youth, thus hurry'd o'er
Fair Virtue's bounds to paths unknown before,
With transport follows where soft pleasure leads,
And roves thro' flow'ry but forbidden meads:
But, when his joys are like a torrent fled,
Sad he reviews the life that once he led;
Now, tho' too late, he struggles to retire,
But still remains and flounders in the mire;
Till, by experience vainly render'd wise,
He sees his folly and repenting dies.
From whence the water with a friendly care
Supplies their gardens with refreshing tides;
Or, under ground, thro' wooden pipes it glides,
Till, with a sudden noise it mounts again,
And sportful falls in sheets of copious rain.
Oft will the streams, o'erflowing, fill the mead
With wond'ring nations of the scaly breed;
The fish exulting wanders o'er the plain,
And now admires the grass and now the grain;
Deep in the spacious furrows lies conceal'd,
Or crops the floating herbage of the field;
Till, left to perish in the mud, too late
He sees his error, and bewails his fate.
By Vice's stream a youth, thus hurry'd o'er
Fair Virtue's bounds to paths unknown before,
With transport follows where soft pleasure leads,
And roves thro' flow'ry but forbidden meads:
But, when his joys are like a torrent fled,
Sad he reviews the life that once he led;
Now, tho' too late, he struggles to retire,
But still remains and flounders in the mire;
Till, by experience vainly render'd wise,
He sees his folly and repenting dies.
In hollow depths of rocks the fish delight,
The cooling shade t' enjoy and shun the sight;
Be thou indulgent to the finny race
And after nature's model, form the place;
But since the stream, unable here to flow,
Will often stagnate and corrupted grow;
Rather let shelt'ring trees o'ershade the flood;
But then the leaves, when shaken from the wood,
Should with the current down the river swim,
Lest by corrupting they defile the stream.
Let rivers therefore from the mountains flow,
To change the water of your lakes below.
Fish, by the river brought, your ponds receive,
Which with the stream, when they attempt to leave,
To bar their flight a fence of hurdles place,
Thro' which the stream may flow; the finny race,
Struggling in vain, becomes an easy prize,
And still pursues the stream with eager eyes.
The cooling shade t' enjoy and shun the sight;
Be thou indulgent to the finny race
And after nature's model, form the place;
But since the stream, unable here to flow,
Will often stagnate and corrupted grow;
Rather let shelt'ring trees o'ershade the flood;
But then the leaves, when shaken from the wood,
Should with the current down the river swim,
Lest by corrupting they defile the stream.
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To change the water of your lakes below.
Fish, by the river brought, your ponds receive,
Which with the stream, when they attempt to leave,
To bar their flight a fence of hurdles place,
Thro' which the stream may flow; the finny race,
Struggling in vain, becomes an easy prize,
And still pursues the stream with eager eyes.
No place for fish is more convenient found,
Than moats which do your house's walls surround;
For here the mazes of the stream they trace,
And chuse in Winter's cold, a sunny place,
Or to the house's friendly shade repair
As oft as summer suns inflame the air:
Be mindful thou the hungry race to feed,
The fish themselves in their own cause will plead;
And, rising to the surface of the flood,
With hungry gaping jaws demand their food.
Let then your children crums of bread bestow,
Or bits of biscuit from their windows throw,
From whence they may behold their sportive play,
And see how greedily they snatch the prey.
Sometimes your servant scraps from table brings,
Or meat your cook into the water flings:
Fish sometimes yield to fish a rich repaste,
And sons insatiate on their fathers feast.
You grains of corn may scatter, and survey
Your fish engag'd in battle or in play;
Or, if in sport and shooting you delight,
With pleasure here at home, conceal'd from sight,
May use by turns your arrows and your gun,
Safe from the show'rs and from the scorching sun;
Whether they sportive leap into the air,
Or to the surface of the stream repair.
Ponds for your fish wherever you provide,
They with fresh store in spring should be supply'd;
In spring the male with love's soft flames inspir'd,
And in defiance of the water fir'd,
Can scarce perceive the change; and, big with young,
A num'rous breed the female bears along!
Than moats which do your house's walls surround;
For here the mazes of the stream they trace,
And chuse in Winter's cold, a sunny place,
Or to the house's friendly shade repair
As oft as summer suns inflame the air:
Be mindful thou the hungry race to feed,
The fish themselves in their own cause will plead;
And, rising to the surface of the flood,
With hungry gaping jaws demand their food.
Let then your children crums of bread bestow,
Or bits of biscuit from their windows throw,
From whence they may behold their sportive play,
And see how greedily they snatch the prey.
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Or meat your cook into the water flings:
Fish sometimes yield to fish a rich repaste,
And sons insatiate on their fathers feast.
You grains of corn may scatter, and survey
Your fish engag'd in battle or in play;
Or, if in sport and shooting you delight,
With pleasure here at home, conceal'd from sight,
May use by turns your arrows and your gun,
Safe from the show'rs and from the scorching sun;
Whether they sportive leap into the air,
Or to the surface of the stream repair.
Ponds for your fish wherever you provide,
They with fresh store in spring should be supply'd;
In spring the male with love's soft flames inspir'd,
And in defiance of the water fir'd,
Can scarce perceive the change; and, big with young,
A num'rous breed the female bears along!
Now o'er the neighb'ring streams extend your nets,
And throw your lines, well furnish'd with deceits;
Join scarlet colours, which, expos'd to view,
Fish thro' the water greedily pursue;
And as a skilful fowler birds employs,
Which, by their well-known voice and treach'rous noise,
Allure their fellows and invite to share
Their fate, entangled in the viscous snare;
So fish, when taken, other fish allure;
Who, seeing them, grow dauntless and secure:
But not thro' studied malice they betray,
But by our art deceive the finny prey:
This may be pardon'd in a silent race,
Who cannot warn their friends of the deceitful place:
Man only with premeditated mind
Betrays his brethren, and ensnares mankind.
And throw your lines, well furnish'd with deceits;
Join scarlet colours, which, expos'd to view,
Fish thro' the water greedily pursue;
And as a skilful fowler birds employs,
Which, by their well-known voice and treach'rous noise,
Allure their fellows and invite to share
Their fate, entangled in the viscous snare;
So fish, when taken, other fish allure;
Who, seeing them, grow dauntless and secure:
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But by our art deceive the finny prey:
This may be pardon'd in a silent race,
Who cannot warn their friends of the deceitful place:
Man only with premeditated mind
Betrays his brethren, and ensnares mankind.
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If in the stream a craggy rock there lies,
Thither the finny race for shelter flies:
This from the rising water may be known,
Which breaks in bubbles, by the fishes blown;
If rocks deny, let art retreat bestow,
And leafy branches in the water throw.
Now when the fish, invited by the food,
Frequent the shade, hang nets around the flood,
And drawing down the stream your boughs, convey
Into your flaxen snares the finny prey.
Then leafy boughs and branches place again,
And with fresh arts a fresh supply obtain.
Tubs, which to lakes your captive fishes bear,
Should at the top admit the vital air;
And if a brook or spring is in the way,
With cooling draughts refresh the thirsty prey.
Thither the finny race for shelter flies:
This from the rising water may be known,
Which breaks in bubbles, by the fishes blown;
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And leafy branches in the water throw.
Now when the fish, invited by the food,
Frequent the shade, hang nets around the flood,
And drawing down the stream your boughs, convey
Into your flaxen snares the finny prey.
Then leafy boughs and branches place again,
And with fresh arts a fresh supply obtain.
Tubs, which to lakes your captive fishes bear,
Should at the top admit the vital air;
And if a brook or spring is in the way,
With cooling draughts refresh the thirsty prey.
Various of waters, as of soils, the kind;
Some stagnant, others running there you'll find,
The bottom fill'd with oose, and mud, and here
Sand mixt with golden gravel will appear.
In lakes where the dull waters ever sleep,
You perches, bleaks, and salmon-trout, may keep,
Who on their backs as many colours show,
As heav'nly Iris on her painted bow.
With these the smelt and smaller turbot place,
And tench, the fav'rites of the vulgar race,
With slipp'ry eels which may be caught with ease
Descending from the rivers to the seas;
For as each year the wand'ring swallow flies
The southern suns and more indulgent skies;
So when rough northern blasts the rivers freeze,
The tender eel, of cold impatient, flees
To the warm sands and caverns of the seas;
And thence returns in summer as before,
To the cool streams and shelter of the shore.
Some stagnant, others running there you'll find,
The bottom fill'd with oose, and mud, and here
Sand mixt with golden gravel will appear.
13
You perches, bleaks, and salmon-trout, may keep,
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As heav'nly Iris on her painted bow.
With these the smelt and smaller turbot place,
And tench, the fav'rites of the vulgar race,
With slipp'ry eels which may be caught with ease
Descending from the rivers to the seas;
For as each year the wand'ring swallow flies
The southern suns and more indulgent skies;
So when rough northern blasts the rivers freeze,
The tender eel, of cold impatient, flees
To the warm sands and caverns of the seas;
And thence returns in summer as before,
To the cool streams and shelter of the shore.
Chuse then a place to practise your deceit,
Where rocks reduce the river to a strait,
So that the stream may flow, when thus confin'd,
With force to turn a mill and corn to grind:
Then near the flood gates in a narrow space,
Hard of access, with reeds enclose a place;
The bending osiers will with ease allow
The stream retiring thro' the chinks to flow;
But, in the wicker prison will detain
The slipp'ry eel descending to the main;
By whom a time for flying will be chose,
When now the stream a safe return allows,
And swoln with wintry show'rs o'er all its borders flows.
But, as a leader, who attempts to go
By night in secret, to elude the foe,
Will find the foe prepar'd to stop his flight,
And equally befriended by the night:
So with the fisherman, with timely care
In muddy streams the flying Eel ensnare,
And nets to stop the fugitive prepare.
Where rocks reduce the river to a strait,
So that the stream may flow, when thus confin'd,
With force to turn a mill and corn to grind:
Then near the flood gates in a narrow space,
Hard of access, with reeds enclose a place;
The bending osiers will with ease allow
The stream retiring thro' the chinks to flow;
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The slipp'ry eel descending to the main;
By whom a time for flying will be chose,
When now the stream a safe return allows,
And swoln with wintry show'rs o'er all its borders flows.
But, as a leader, who attempts to go
By night in secret, to elude the foe,
Will find the foe prepar'd to stop his flight,
And equally befriended by the night:
So with the fisherman, with timely care
In muddy streams the flying Eel ensnare,
And nets to stop the fugitive prepare.
The Carp, the native of th' Italian Lar,
And Whiting standing waters will prefer;
And Blease, and Umbles, like an ancient trout,
Tho' weak in fight, yet threatning with their snout;
For tho' sharp teeth in triple ranks are shown,
Whole nations fly before the pike alone;
Fierce to destroy with blood the stream he stains;
For courage, and not strength, the conquest gains.
And Whiting standing waters will prefer;
And Blease, and Umbles, like an ancient trout,
Tho' weak in fight, yet threatning with their snout;
For tho' sharp teeth in triple ranks are shown,
Whole nations fly before the pike alone;
Fierce to destroy with blood the stream he stains;
For courage, and not strength, the conquest gains.
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The Carp which in th' Italian seas was bred,
With shining scraps of yellow gold is fed:
Tho' chang'd his form, his avarice remains,
And in his breast the love of lucre reigns.
For Saturn flying from victorious Jove,
Compell'd of old, in banishment to rove
Along th' Italian shore, a vessel found
Beyond the lake of wide Benacus bound;
He, for his passage, at a price agreed,
And with large gifts of gold the master fee'd.
But he the master (Carpus was he nam'd)
With thirst of gain, and love of gold inflam'd;
Prepar'd in chains the passenger to bind,
But to the god his face betray'd his mind,
And from the vessel in revenge he threw
Into the waves the pilot and his crew;
Then into fish the traytors he transform'd,
The traytors, still with love of lucre warm'd,
The sailing ship for golden fragments trace,
And prove themselves deriv'd from human race.
With shining scraps of yellow gold is fed:
Tho' chang'd his form, his avarice remains,
And in his breast the love of lucre reigns.
For Saturn flying from victorious Jove,
Compell'd of old, in banishment to rove
Along th' Italian shore, a vessel found
Beyond the lake of wide Benacus bound;
He, for his passage, at a price agreed,
And with large gifts of gold the master fee'd.
But he the master (Carpus was he nam'd)
With thirst of gain, and love of gold inflam'd;
Prepar'd in chains the passenger to bind,
But to the god his face betray'd his mind,
And from the vessel in revenge he threw
Into the waves the pilot and his crew;
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The traytors, still with love of lucre warm'd,
The sailing ship for golden fragments trace,
And prove themselves deriv'd from human race.
If running waters overflow your lakes,
There best the barbel thrive with speckled backs;
And roach, which shoot as swiftly thro' the flood
As arrows, flying from the bending wood;
From whence of darts they have obtain'd the name;
The mullets also love a living stream,
With powts which in the muddy bottom lie;
Menows, which constant stores of eggs supply;
Lotes, on whose chins long hairy bristles grow;
And skates and wide-mouth'd lampreys, which below
Resemble eels, but gape like frogs above;
With fragrant fish, which murm'ring fountains love,
Sweet to the smell like thyme's delightful flow'r;
Gudgeons who gravel greedily devour;
Perch like sea mullets both in taste and smell,
And pollards which within with prickles swell;
With gaping sheaths, and plaise, whom, if their snouts
Were less obtuse, we might mistake for trouts.
There best the barbel thrive with speckled backs;
And roach, which shoot as swiftly thro' the flood
As arrows, flying from the bending wood;
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The mullets also love a living stream,
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Menows, which constant stores of eggs supply;
Lotes, on whose chins long hairy bristles grow;
And skates and wide-mouth'd lampreys, which below
Resemble eels, but gape like frogs above;
With fragrant fish, which murm'ring fountains love,
Sweet to the smell like thyme's delightful flow'r;
Gudgeons who gravel greedily devour;
Perch like sea mullets both in taste and smell,
And pollards which within with prickles swell;
With gaping sheaths, and plaise, whom, if their snouts
Were less obtuse, we might mistake for trouts.
In either stream the carp contented dwells,
With plenteous spawn thro' all the year she swells,
And in all places and all seasons breeds,
In lakes as well as rivers: hence proceeds
The name of Cyprian, which the Cyprian dame
Bestow'd; the French to carp have chang'd the name.
Of all the fish that swim the wat'ry mead,
Not one in cunning can the carp exceed.
Sometimes when nets enclose the stream, she flies
To hollow rocks, and there in secret lies:
Sometimes the surface of the water skims,
And, springing o'er the net, undaunted swims;
Now motionless she lies beneath the flood,
Holds by a weed, or deep into the mud
Plunges her head, for fear against her will,
The nets should drag her and elude her skill:
Nay, not content with this, she oft will dive
Beneath the net, and not alone contrive
Means for her own escape, but pity take
On all her hapless brethren of the lake;
For rising, with her back she lifts the snares,
And frees the captives with officious cares;
The little fry in safety swim away,
And disappoint the nets of their expected prey.
No other fish so great an age attain,
For the same carp, which from the wat'ry plain
The Valois' seated on the throne survey'd,
Now sees the sceptre by the Bourbons sway'd;
He now beholds the children, and admires
Their dress and customs so unlike their sires.
What greater wonder would he now express
Did he but know what signal triumphs bless
Our arms, thro' all the world attended with success?
With plenteous spawn thro' all the year she swells,
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In lakes as well as rivers: hence proceeds
The name of Cyprian, which the Cyprian dame
Bestow'd; the French to carp have chang'd the name.
Of all the fish that swim the wat'ry mead,
Not one in cunning can the carp exceed.
Sometimes when nets enclose the stream, she flies
To hollow rocks, and there in secret lies:
Sometimes the surface of the water skims,
And, springing o'er the net, undaunted swims;
Now motionless she lies beneath the flood,
Holds by a weed, or deep into the mud
Plunges her head, for fear against her will,
The nets should drag her and elude her skill:
Nay, not content with this, she oft will dive
Beneath the net, and not alone contrive
Means for her own escape, but pity take
On all her hapless brethren of the lake;
For rising, with her back she lifts the snares,
And frees the captives with officious cares;
The little fry in safety swim away,
And disappoint the nets of their expected prey.
No other fish so great an age attain,
For the same carp, which from the wat'ry plain
The Valois' seated on the throne survey'd,
Now sees the sceptre by the Bourbons sway'd;
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Their dress and customs so unlike their sires.
What greater wonder would he now express
Did he but know what signal triumphs bless
Our arms, thro' all the world attended with success?
Tho' age has whiten'd o'er the scaly backs
Of the old carp which swim the royal lakes;
They, neither barren, nor inactive, grow,
But still in sport the waves around 'em throw:
Here safe the depths no longer they explore;
But, their huge bulk extending near the shore,
Take freely from our hands what we bestow,
And grace the royal streams at Fountainbleau:
But, chiefly they rejoice, when, near the side,
Great Lewis walks, and as in youthful pride,
Strong both in body and in mind remains,
And all youth's vigour ev'n in age retains:
We could not think he sixty years had reign'd,
Did we not count our gains by sea and land;
Or view his grandsons round the monarch stand.
Of the old carp which swim the royal lakes;
They, neither barren, nor inactive, grow,
But still in sport the waves around 'em throw:
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But, their huge bulk extending near the shore,
Take freely from our hands what we bestow,
And grace the royal streams at Fountainbleau:
But, chiefly they rejoice, when, near the side,
Great Lewis walks, and as in youthful pride,
Strong both in body and in mind remains,
And all youth's vigour ev'n in age retains:
We could not think he sixty years had reign'd,
Did we not count our gains by sea and land;
Or view his grandsons round the monarch stand.
Tho' the rich pike, to entertain your guest,
Smokes on the board and decks a royal feast;
Yet must you not this cruel savage place
In the same ponds that lodge the finny race:
In the same tow'r you might as well unite,
The fearful pigeons and the rav'nous kite;
In the same yard the fox with chickens keep,
Or place the hungry wolf with harmless sheep.
For he, the tyrant of the wat'ry plains
Devours all fish, nor from his kind abstains;
Unless hoarse frogs infest the fenny place;
For then he feasts on the loquacious race;
Dragg'd from the filthy mud, they croak in vain,
And with loud babblings ev'n in death complain.
Or when a goose sports on the azure wave,
Delighting in the stream her limbs to lave,
Or dips her head, and with a clam'rous sound,
Provokes the rain, and throws the water round;
The pike arrests the fowl with hungry jaws,
And to the bottom of the river draws;
Nay, as a boy in the smooth current swims,
His teeth he fixes in his tender limbs.
Smokes on the board and decks a royal feast;
Yet must you not this cruel savage place
In the same ponds that lodge the finny race:
In the same tow'r you might as well unite,
The fearful pigeons and the rav'nous kite;
In the same yard the fox with chickens keep,
Or place the hungry wolf with harmless sheep.
For he, the tyrant of the wat'ry plains
Devours all fish, nor from his kind abstains;
23
For then he feasts on the loquacious race;
Dragg'd from the filthy mud, they croak in vain,
And with loud babblings ev'n in death complain.
Or when a goose sports on the azure wave,
Delighting in the stream her limbs to lave,
Or dips her head, and with a clam'rous sound,
Provokes the rain, and throws the water round;
The pike arrests the fowl with hungry jaws,
And to the bottom of the river draws;
Nay, as a boy in the smooth current swims,
His teeth he fixes in his tender limbs.
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The trout loves rivers in obscure retreats;
Thrown into standing water, she forgets
Her former beauty, and neglects her love,
And all the flesh will then insipid prove;
From hence remember, with a timely care,
For trout a running water to prepare:
Near some wide river's mouth a place provide,
And with smooth grass and turf adorn the side;
Let the clear bottom shining gravel show,
And gently murm'ring o'er smooth pebbles flow.
This situation always grateful proves,
For still the trout a murm'ring current loves,
And still the same desires her bosom warm,
Nor has she chang'd her manner with her form:
For once she liv'd a nymph of spotless fame
In an obscure retreat, and Truta was her name.
It chanc'd that in a flow'ry path she stray'd,
Where a clear river with the pebble play'd,
And just disturb'd the silence of the shade.
Truta now seated near the spreading trees,
Enjoys the coolness of the passing breeze;
In the clear stream she casts her modest eyes,
And in a fillet her fair tresses lies.
While in this solitude she thus remains,
And dies her beauteous face with various stains;
It chanc'd the robber Lucius, thro' the shade,
With eager eyes perceiv'd the lonely maid;
He saw and lov'd her riches, on her face,
For both her dress and form appear'd with equal grace.
The nymph now heard the rustling with affright;
She saw a man, and trembled at the sight;
Swiftly along the winding shore she fled,
And cry'd, and vow'd, and call'd the gods to aid.
Truta despairing sought, with trembling speed,
A rock that overlooked the wat'ry mead;
Hither she bent her course, the summit gain'd,
And thought her virtue now might be maintain'd
Cheaply with loss of life: while here she stood,
And just prepar'd to leap into the flood,
Lucius approach'd, and while he held behind
Her flow'ry vest, that flutter'd in the wind,
Chang'd into fish an equal fate they bore,
And though transform'd in shape, yet, as before,
The pike of slaughter fond and fierce appears,
And still the trout retains her female fears!
Beauty and virgin modesty remains,
Diversify'd with crimson tinted stains;
And, once the fairest nymph that trod the plain,
Swims fairest fish of all the finny train.
Thrown into standing water, she forgets
Her former beauty, and neglects her love,
And all the flesh will then insipid prove;
From hence remember, with a timely care,
For trout a running water to prepare:
Near some wide river's mouth a place provide,
And with smooth grass and turf adorn the side;
Let the clear bottom shining gravel show,
And gently murm'ring o'er smooth pebbles flow.
This situation always grateful proves,
For still the trout a murm'ring current loves,
And still the same desires her bosom warm,
Nor has she chang'd her manner with her form:
25
In an obscure retreat, and Truta was her name.
It chanc'd that in a flow'ry path she stray'd,
Where a clear river with the pebble play'd,
And just disturb'd the silence of the shade.
Truta now seated near the spreading trees,
Enjoys the coolness of the passing breeze;
In the clear stream she casts her modest eyes,
And in a fillet her fair tresses lies.
While in this solitude she thus remains,
And dies her beauteous face with various stains;
It chanc'd the robber Lucius, thro' the shade,
With eager eyes perceiv'd the lonely maid;
He saw and lov'd her riches, on her face,
For both her dress and form appear'd with equal grace.
The nymph now heard the rustling with affright;
She saw a man, and trembled at the sight;
Swiftly along the winding shore she fled,
And cry'd, and vow'd, and call'd the gods to aid.
Truta despairing sought, with trembling speed,
A rock that overlooked the wat'ry mead;
Hither she bent her course, the summit gain'd,
And thought her virtue now might be maintain'd
26
And just prepar'd to leap into the flood,
Lucius approach'd, and while he held behind
Her flow'ry vest, that flutter'd in the wind,
Chang'd into fish an equal fate they bore,
And though transform'd in shape, yet, as before,
The pike of slaughter fond and fierce appears,
And still the trout retains her female fears!
Beauty and virgin modesty remains,
Diversify'd with crimson tinted stains;
And, once the fairest nymph that trod the plain,
Swims fairest fish of all the finny train.
Not pikes alone defile the streams with blood,
But over all the brethren of the flood,
Perpetual discord bears tyrannic sway,
And all the stronger on the weaker prey.
As among men the great the small oppress,
And still the same confusion and distress,
Which in the city and the forest reign,
Distract the tenants of the wat'ry plain.
Banish'd from earth, peace could not find a place
Beneath the streams, among the finny race;
But, since for want they otherwise would die,
Regard this fury with indulgent eye.
Why need I mention all the waste of blood,
Which the fierce otter causes in the flood;
Among the willows secretly he lies,
And from the shore surveys, with eager eyes,
The sport or battles of the wat'ry breed,
And swiftly swimming with resistless speed,
Defeats the hostile bands, and makes the warriors bleed.
Few deaths assuage the hunger of the foe;
No bounds his hate and savage fury know;
The fish he bowels, stains the stream with blood,
And mangled bodies float upon the flood:
The otter heaps in caverns of the shore
The fish half eaten and besmear'd with gore;
Of slaughter proud, he there delights to dwell,
And the long night enjoys the nauseous smell.
Snares for the beast, and gins, let others lay,
Or into traps by tempting baits betray;
But you with missive weapons in your hand,
Conceal'd from view behind a thicket stand;
And while on fraud he muses on the shore,
Or tir'd returns with jaws besmear'd with gore,
The felon slay, and throw into the flood
His wounded body for your fishes food:
But first tear off the skin (for fear your fry
Should from the dead, as from the living fly,)
Which some rich matron will rejoice to buy.
If you should find the young ones, steal away,
In th' absence of the dam, the tender prey,
And by his youthful years yet pliant, breed
The gentle otter to the fishing trade;
For when suspended in the stream you place
Your flaxen snares, to catch the finny race,
He will explore each cavern and retreat,
And rouse the fish, and hunt them to the net:
As dogs drive trembling stags into the snare,
Or by the scent pursue the fleeting hare.
But over all the brethren of the flood,
Perpetual discord bears tyrannic sway,
And all the stronger on the weaker prey.
As among men the great the small oppress,
And still the same confusion and distress,
Which in the city and the forest reign,
Distract the tenants of the wat'ry plain.
Banish'd from earth, peace could not find a place
Beneath the streams, among the finny race;
But, since for want they otherwise would die,
Regard this fury with indulgent eye.
Why need I mention all the waste of blood,
Which the fierce otter causes in the flood;
Among the willows secretly he lies,
And from the shore surveys, with eager eyes,
27
And swiftly swimming with resistless speed,
Defeats the hostile bands, and makes the warriors bleed.
Few deaths assuage the hunger of the foe;
No bounds his hate and savage fury know;
The fish he bowels, stains the stream with blood,
And mangled bodies float upon the flood:
The otter heaps in caverns of the shore
The fish half eaten and besmear'd with gore;
Of slaughter proud, he there delights to dwell,
And the long night enjoys the nauseous smell.
Snares for the beast, and gins, let others lay,
Or into traps by tempting baits betray;
But you with missive weapons in your hand,
Conceal'd from view behind a thicket stand;
And while on fraud he muses on the shore,
Or tir'd returns with jaws besmear'd with gore,
The felon slay, and throw into the flood
His wounded body for your fishes food:
But first tear off the skin (for fear your fry
Should from the dead, as from the living fly,)
Which some rich matron will rejoice to buy.
If you should find the young ones, steal away,
In th' absence of the dam, the tender prey,
And by his youthful years yet pliant, breed
The gentle otter to the fishing trade;
For when suspended in the stream you place
Your flaxen snares, to catch the finny race,
He will explore each cavern and retreat,
And rouse the fish, and hunt them to the net:
28
Or by the scent pursue the fleeting hare.
In these amusements while I pass the day,
Autumnal hours roll unperceiv'd away;
When tir'd of town and study, I retreat,
My honour'd friend, to thy fair country seat;
Where you with all the rural sports invite,
But most with mirth and attic wit delight;
For tho' your seat, which from the neighb'ring stream
Derives its name, is first in my esteem;
Yet, in your absence, nor the flow'ry beds,
Nor silver floods can please, nor painted meads,
Nor ev'n the stream which in a mournful strain
Appears with me to murmur and complain;
No longer now the verdant laurel grove,
Where oft, in contemplation wrapt, I rove,
Can without you poetic thoughts inspire,
Or reconcile me to the tuneful quire.
When pleasure to the plains returns with you,
Together oft we take delight to view
Th' obsequious otter, thirsting after blood,
Chase thro' the stream the natives of the flood;
Or near the stew, which with a bounteous hand
Your ancestors prepar'd, together stand
To see him dive for food, and joyful draw
The gasping captives from his bloody jaw.
Autumnal hours roll unperceiv'd away;
When tir'd of town and study, I retreat,
My honour'd friend, to thy fair country seat;
Where you with all the rural sports invite,
But most with mirth and attic wit delight;
For tho' your seat, which from the neighb'ring stream
Derives its name, is first in my esteem;
Yet, in your absence, nor the flow'ry beds,
Nor silver floods can please, nor painted meads,
Nor ev'n the stream which in a mournful strain
Appears with me to murmur and complain;
No longer now the verdant laurel grove,
Where oft, in contemplation wrapt, I rove,
Can without you poetic thoughts inspire,
Or reconcile me to the tuneful quire.
When pleasure to the plains returns with you,
Together oft we take delight to view
Th' obsequious otter, thirsting after blood,
Chase thro' the stream the natives of the flood;
Or near the stew, which with a bounteous hand
Your ancestors prepar'd, together stand
29
The gasping captives from his bloody jaw.
30
Among the sportive tenants of the lake,
Wide havoc water-rats and beavers make:
These foes with subtlety alone pursue:
If from the shore you at a distance view
A beaver plunge into the stream, in vain
You'll hope by darts a conquest to obtain;
The conscious robber dives beneath the flood,
Nor to the bank returns where late he stood.
Wide havoc water-rats and beavers make:
These foes with subtlety alone pursue:
If from the shore you at a distance view
A beaver plunge into the stream, in vain
You'll hope by darts a conquest to obtain;
The conscious robber dives beneath the flood,
Nor to the bank returns where late he stood.
If reeds and rushes should your lakes infest,
Cut not away the heads and leave the rest;
The stems corrupt, if suffered to remain,
And from the roots fresh crops appear again:
But with a little skiff destroy the reeds;
With gloves upon their hands some hold the heads,
With stretch'd-out arms, against the adverse waves;
While others row with oars; or with long staves
The boat together with the rushes strove,
And to the shore the reedy forest move.
Cut not away the heads and leave the rest;
The stems corrupt, if suffered to remain,
And from the roots fresh crops appear again:
But with a little skiff destroy the reeds;
With gloves upon their hands some hold the heads,
With stretch'd-out arms, against the adverse waves;
While others row with oars; or with long staves
The boat together with the rushes strove,
And to the shore the reedy forest move.
Since nothing to the natives of the flood
Is more destructive than the want of food,
Throw grains of corn, or scatter crumbs of bread,
And if, of some unknown distemper dead,
You chance to find a sheep, or in the yoke
An ox should yield to death's untimely stroke,
To feast your hungry fish their bodies throw,
Or pounded acorns and cheap pulse bestow;
With figs by constant show'rs corrupted grown,
And apples from the trees untimely blown:
For famine will compel the wat'ry breed
Like beasts on flesh, on grass like sheep to feed,
With fruit like birds to fill their hungry maw,
And on their kind to rush with greedy jaw.
Is more destructive than the want of food,
Throw grains of corn, or scatter crumbs of bread,
And if, of some unknown distemper dead,
You chance to find a sheep, or in the yoke
An ox should yield to death's untimely stroke,
To feast your hungry fish their bodies throw,
Or pounded acorns and cheap pulse bestow;
With figs by constant show'rs corrupted grown,
And apples from the trees untimely blown:
For famine will compel the wat'ry breed
Like beasts on flesh, on grass like sheep to feed,
With fruit like birds to fill their hungry maw,
And on their kind to rush with greedy jaw.
31
The eel, swift-gliding thro' the wat'ry plain,
Devours the fry, and smaller finny train,
And smelts, and gudgeons, seek the shore in vain.
In bulk with years while other fishes rise,
Why gudgeons, loach, and smelts are small in size,
And still the old continue dwarfs, relate
The rise, ye Muses, of the minim state.
Where, with a tardy current, near the sea,
The Po in slow meanders takes its way,
A band of children on the borders stood,
Engag'd in play, and in the silver flood
Threw stones, which, sliding on the wat'ry plain,
Now seem to sink and now emerge again.
Beneath the stream the sisters of the sea
Then list'ning sat to Clio's tales, whom she
Amused with amours of absent Ephiré.
When Ægle first the dashing pebbles heard,
She at the surface of the stream appear'd,
Enjoin'd the boys to leave the river's side,
And added threats; they bold her threats defy'd,
And casting impious stones, in scorn they cry;
“Lo, thus to your complainings, we reply!”
Ægle affrighted soon return'd again,
And filling with her shrieks the wat'ry plain;
“Ye gods shall this audacious crew,” she cries,
“Who me with taunting words and stones defies,
Escape unhurt? shall youth their crime excuse?
No age unpunish'd must the gods abuse!
Call then a monster from the neighb'ring main,
To wreak our vengeance on the impious train.”
She said, and Ocean to the sisters gave
A dreadful form, which rose above the wave.
The boys beheld and trembled at the sight,
And try'd to fly, but fear arrests their flight;
Breathless they fell, their limbs the monster tore,
And in the river cast 'em from the shore;
Then shook his head, and in the silver flood
Wip'd from his dropping jaws the streaming blood.
The nymphs the slaughter saw and heard the cries,
And feasted with revenge their eager eyes.
What female heart but may by youth be gain'd?
And beauty in the boys that still remain'd
Like a fair flow'r which yielding to the share
Reclines its drooping head, but still continues fair.
How credulous is Love! they see the shore
O'erspread with bodies, all besmear'd with gore,
Yet hope by fear they fell, and signs of life explore;
Their hands the heart, no longer beating, try,
Or their fair fingers ope th' unwilling eye;
Another seeking whether yet the breath
Hangs on the lips, nor quite extinct by death,
Joins her's to their's, compassionately kind,
And leaves, unseen, a tender kiss behind.
But these their cares were vain, for death's cold hand,
Had clos'd the eyes of all the youthful band;
And now their weeping ghosts were seen to gain
The darksome realms of Pluto's dreary reign:
With pray'rs and tears stern Charon they implore,
To take and waft them to the Stygian shore;
And if or youth or beauty could prevail,
His breast had melted at their mournful tale.
The nymphs, with pity mov'd, the gods implor'd
That to their bodies life might be restor'd;
But when their pray'rs the gods no longer heard,
They draw 'em in the stream to be interr'd:
Soon as their lifeless limbs had touch'd the wave,
Another form they to the children gave:
Each hand contracted in a fin appears,
And the rough skin a scaly substance wears;
The form of a hook'd tail united, took
Their feet and legs; the tenant of the brook
To stem the adverse waves unceasing tries;
Resembling youth in manners and in size.
For these are always small: by turns we see
They sport and fret, now quarrel, now agree;
And still like what they were before remain,
Peevish in play, yet loath to leave the train.
Devours the fry, and smaller finny train,
And smelts, and gudgeons, seek the shore in vain.
In bulk with years while other fishes rise,
Why gudgeons, loach, and smelts are small in size,
And still the old continue dwarfs, relate
The rise, ye Muses, of the minim state.
Where, with a tardy current, near the sea,
The Po in slow meanders takes its way,
A band of children on the borders stood,
Engag'd in play, and in the silver flood
Threw stones, which, sliding on the wat'ry plain,
Now seem to sink and now emerge again.
Beneath the stream the sisters of the sea
Then list'ning sat to Clio's tales, whom she
Amused with amours of absent Ephiré.
When Ægle first the dashing pebbles heard,
She at the surface of the stream appear'd,
Enjoin'd the boys to leave the river's side,
And added threats; they bold her threats defy'd,
And casting impious stones, in scorn they cry;
“Lo, thus to your complainings, we reply!”
Ægle affrighted soon return'd again,
And filling with her shrieks the wat'ry plain;
“Ye gods shall this audacious crew,” she cries,
“Who me with taunting words and stones defies,
Escape unhurt? shall youth their crime excuse?
No age unpunish'd must the gods abuse!
Call then a monster from the neighb'ring main,
To wreak our vengeance on the impious train.”
She said, and Ocean to the sisters gave
A dreadful form, which rose above the wave.
The boys beheld and trembled at the sight,
And try'd to fly, but fear arrests their flight;
Breathless they fell, their limbs the monster tore,
And in the river cast 'em from the shore;
32
Wip'd from his dropping jaws the streaming blood.
The nymphs the slaughter saw and heard the cries,
And feasted with revenge their eager eyes.
What female heart but may by youth be gain'd?
And beauty in the boys that still remain'd
Like a fair flow'r which yielding to the share
Reclines its drooping head, but still continues fair.
How credulous is Love! they see the shore
O'erspread with bodies, all besmear'd with gore,
Yet hope by fear they fell, and signs of life explore;
33
Or their fair fingers ope th' unwilling eye;
Another seeking whether yet the breath
Hangs on the lips, nor quite extinct by death,
Joins her's to their's, compassionately kind,
And leaves, unseen, a tender kiss behind.
But these their cares were vain, for death's cold hand,
Had clos'd the eyes of all the youthful band;
And now their weeping ghosts were seen to gain
The darksome realms of Pluto's dreary reign:
With pray'rs and tears stern Charon they implore,
To take and waft them to the Stygian shore;
And if or youth or beauty could prevail,
His breast had melted at their mournful tale.
The nymphs, with pity mov'd, the gods implor'd
That to their bodies life might be restor'd;
34
They draw 'em in the stream to be interr'd:
Soon as their lifeless limbs had touch'd the wave,
Another form they to the children gave:
Each hand contracted in a fin appears,
And the rough skin a scaly substance wears;
The form of a hook'd tail united, took
Their feet and legs; the tenant of the brook
To stem the adverse waves unceasing tries;
Resembling youth in manners and in size.
For these are always small: by turns we see
They sport and fret, now quarrel, now agree;
And still like what they were before remain,
Peevish in play, yet loath to leave the train.
Now to the caution of the Muse attend,
Your fish from nightly robbers to defend;
Boards at the bottom arm'd with spikes prepare,
To catch the net and disappoint the snare.
But those are most destructive, who, with food,
Throw poison mixt or lime into the flood;
Soon as infected, tortur'd with the pain,
The fish shoots swiftly thro' the wat'ry plain;
Or giddily in various circles swims,
And just the surface of the water skims,
To fan his lungs with draughts of vital air,
And cool the scorching heat that rages there.
But still the pois'nous drugs his breast torment;
And now his strength is gone, his vigour spent;
Now he sucks in his last remains of breath,
Supinely floating on the waves in death.
Ev'n the dire author of the mischief grieves,
When, for a paltry gain, he thus perceives
The lakes exhausted of their scaly breed,
And blames the arts from whence such ills proceed.
Your fish from nightly robbers to defend;
Boards at the bottom arm'd with spikes prepare,
To catch the net and disappoint the snare.
But those are most destructive, who, with food,
Throw poison mixt or lime into the flood;
Soon as infected, tortur'd with the pain,
The fish shoots swiftly thro' the wat'ry plain;
Or giddily in various circles swims,
And just the surface of the water skims,
To fan his lungs with draughts of vital air,
And cool the scorching heat that rages there.
But still the pois'nous drugs his breast torment;
And now his strength is gone, his vigour spent;
Now he sucks in his last remains of breath,
Supinely floating on the waves in death.
Ev'n the dire author of the mischief grieves,
When, for a paltry gain, he thus perceives
The lakes exhausted of their scaly breed,
And blames the arts from whence such ills proceed.
35
Now that your stew-ponds may with ease afford
Supplies of fish, well-fatted for your board,
With a slight wall a narrow place enclose,
Where the full river from its channel flows;
The tinkling of the stream, or sav'ry bait,
Will tempt the fish to try the sweet deceit;
The wickers opening readily admit
The breed, but never their return permit:
Here to your captives plenteous dainties throw,
Which soon will thrive and fit for table grow.
Supplies of fish, well-fatted for your board,
With a slight wall a narrow place enclose,
Where the full river from its channel flows;
The tinkling of the stream, or sav'ry bait,
Will tempt the fish to try the sweet deceit;
The wickers opening readily admit
The breed, but never their return permit:
Here to your captives plenteous dainties throw,
Which soon will thrive and fit for table grow.
Some few years past, as all good Christians feed
In spring-time only on the scaly breed;
Let out the water from your open'd lake,
And all the finny race in baskets take:
The water rushes out, the dams and mounds
Remov'd, thro' valleys and o'er stones resounds,
And swells the streams admiring, without rain,
To see their waves roll swiftly to the main.
In spring-time only on the scaly breed;
36
And all the finny race in baskets take:
The water rushes out, the dams and mounds
Remov'd, thro' valleys and o'er stones resounds,
37
To see their waves roll swiftly to the main.
Meanwhile the wand'ring fish swims up and down
Confus'd, and when the stream is almost gone,
Still follows the remains; whom, from the lake
Sliding, the wicker snares a captive make:
Here with his much-lov'd stream, his life he leaves,
And his last parting breath the air receives.
Confus'd, and when the stream is almost gone,
Still follows the remains; whom, from the lake
Sliding, the wicker snares a captive make:
Here with his much-lov'd stream, his life he leaves,
And his last parting breath the air receives.
Lest the whole breed should undistinguish'd die,
Take the small fish that at the bottom lie,
In a new pond the little wand'rers place;
And there preserve the hopes of all the race.
They swim surpris'd, the vacant lakes survey,
And all their father's wat'ry empire sway.
Take the small fish that at the bottom lie,
In a new pond the little wand'rers place;
And there preserve the hopes of all the race.
They swim surpris'd, the vacant lakes survey,
And all their father's wat'ry empire sway.
The ponds now drain'd, the cautious eel lies roll'd
Deep in the mud, and wound in many a fold.
While here he lurks, conceal'd beneath the ooze,
With griping hand the smooth deceiver close;
Lest he, like fortune, when you think the prey
Securely your's, should subtly glide away.
Deep in the mud, and wound in many a fold.
While here he lurks, conceal'd beneath the ooze,
With griping hand the smooth deceiver close;
Lest he, like fortune, when you think the prey
Securely your's, should subtly glide away.
No sweeping drag-net should the race alarm,
That through your streams, congenial breeding swarm;
Lest you destroy young natives of the flood,
And all your fruit prove blighted in the bud;
Bow nets still use; or, in a darksome night,
Fires on the margin of the river light;
Struck with the dazzling flame, ne'er seen before,
Surpris'd they slow approach the shining shore;
While thus for knowledge greedy they appear,
Or to the crackling billets lend an ear,
Insnare with nets, or fix 'em with a spear.
That through your streams, congenial breeding swarm;
Lest you destroy young natives of the flood,
And all your fruit prove blighted in the bud;
Bow nets still use; or, in a darksome night,
Fires on the margin of the river light;
Struck with the dazzling flame, ne'er seen before,
Surpris'd they slow approach the shining shore;
38
Or to the crackling billets lend an ear,
Insnare with nets, or fix 'em with a spear.
Still other arts your leisure may employ,
Amusement yield, nor all the race destroy:
On the green margin dark secluded stand
A taper angle waving in your hand;
The wand'ring prey with choicest bait invite,
And fatal steel conceal'd by art from sight.
Once on the grassy border of a flood
A boy, and round a youthful circle stood,
With floated line, and rod, did next prepare,
The 'guileful charm to hide the barbed snare;
The boy commanded silence with a nod,
And threw his twisted line into the flood:
By chance a mullet in the stream appear'd
Large, and conspicuous by a length of beard:
He nibbled at the bait in sportive play,
And then refusing seem'd to swim away.
Now with the current down the stream he glides
Now with his tail the adverse waves divides;
But soon returns the odour to regain,
And winds in circles through the wat'ry plain;
Thus heedless moths display their painted wings,
And flutter round the flame which sure destruction brings
Meanwhile the boys, attentive, scarce appear
To breathe, by turns inflam'd with hope and fear;
Now certain, now despairing of their prize,
On this alone they fix their greedy eyes;
At length fear yields to hunger, and the bait
He credulously swallow the deceit
Soon by his blood discovering, he in vain
Attempts to void the hook and ease the pain;
When, from his mouth the steel he would withdraw,
Deeper the steel is rooted in his jaw;
The fisher jerks his rod, with nimble hand,
And throws the mullet gasping on the sand;
He, looking on the river in despair,
Leap'd slightly twice or thrice into the air,
But when his strength unable now he found
To lift his ponderous body from the ground,
Flapping his tail upon the bank in death
He struggling panted and resign'd his breath;
Not one there was of all that there appear'd,
But touch'd the fins and gently strok'd the beard.
Here then a boy, that stood upon the strand,
Thus with a tale amus'd the youthful band:
Barbus, whose name was from his beard deriv'd,
Had almost at an hundred years arriv'd;
Now weak with age and stooping to the ground,
His brow was rugged and with wrinkles crown'd:
His mouth was wide, his feeble head hung down,
His teeth were lost, his hands were bony grown;
Thick on his chin a bunch of hair remain'd,
And his weak steps a knotty staff sustain'd.
Oft, in his youthful years near streams he stood,
And cast his lines and nets into the flood.
And as we find that length of years destroys
The strength, but not the love of former joys,
He, tho' grown old, resorted to the shore,
And haunted still the streams he lov'd before;
Still was he pleas'd and eager to betray,
With hooks conceal'd by baits the finny prey.
As once the old man, on a river's side,
Aim'd at a fish that near the shore he spy'd;
His tottering footsteps fail'd to keep their hold,
And headlong from the slipp'ry bank he roll'd;
Now with the rapid current he contends,
Large draughts of water swallows, and extends
His feeble arms, but, hoping most to gain
By pray'rs success, he vows but vows in vain.
His breathless body, floating down the brook,
Great Jove beheld, and kind compassion took:
“Live still,” he cry'd, “but in the stream remain,
And dwell for ever with the finny train;
Death was so near at hand, you need not grieve
For a short space a feeble trunk to leave.”
Now forth his arms as leathern fins extend,
And in a tail his feet contracted blend;
The form of scales his tatter'd garments wore;
His back look'd dry and wither'd as before;
Still on his chin a length of beard remain'd,
His teeth he lost, but harmless gums retain'd,
These, in a fish, the marks of age are deem'd,
For age alone the mullets are esteem'd;
And length of years, by which all other things
Decay, to these increase of honour brings.
Amusement yield, nor all the race destroy:
On the green margin dark secluded stand
A taper angle waving in your hand;
The wand'ring prey with choicest bait invite,
And fatal steel conceal'd by art from sight.
39
A boy, and round a youthful circle stood,
With floated line, and rod, did next prepare,
The 'guileful charm to hide the barbed snare;
The boy commanded silence with a nod,
And threw his twisted line into the flood:
By chance a mullet in the stream appear'd
Large, and conspicuous by a length of beard:
He nibbled at the bait in sportive play,
And then refusing seem'd to swim away.
Now with the current down the stream he glides
Now with his tail the adverse waves divides;
40
And winds in circles through the wat'ry plain;
Thus heedless moths display their painted wings,
And flutter round the flame which sure destruction brings
Meanwhile the boys, attentive, scarce appear
To breathe, by turns inflam'd with hope and fear;
Now certain, now despairing of their prize,
On this alone they fix their greedy eyes;
At length fear yields to hunger, and the bait
He credulously swallow the deceit
Soon by his blood discovering, he in vain
Attempts to void the hook and ease the pain;
When, from his mouth the steel he would withdraw,
Deeper the steel is rooted in his jaw;
The fisher jerks his rod, with nimble hand,
And throws the mullet gasping on the sand;
He, looking on the river in despair,
Leap'd slightly twice or thrice into the air,
But when his strength unable now he found
To lift his ponderous body from the ground,
Flapping his tail upon the bank in death
He struggling panted and resign'd his breath;
Not one there was of all that there appear'd,
But touch'd the fins and gently strok'd the beard.
Here then a boy, that stood upon the strand,
Thus with a tale amus'd the youthful band:
Barbus, whose name was from his beard deriv'd,
Had almost at an hundred years arriv'd;
Now weak with age and stooping to the ground,
His brow was rugged and with wrinkles crown'd:
His mouth was wide, his feeble head hung down,
His teeth were lost, his hands were bony grown;
Thick on his chin a bunch of hair remain'd,
And his weak steps a knotty staff sustain'd.
Oft, in his youthful years near streams he stood,
And cast his lines and nets into the flood.
41
The strength, but not the love of former joys,
He, tho' grown old, resorted to the shore,
And haunted still the streams he lov'd before;
Still was he pleas'd and eager to betray,
With hooks conceal'd by baits the finny prey.
As once the old man, on a river's side,
Aim'd at a fish that near the shore he spy'd;
His tottering footsteps fail'd to keep their hold,
And headlong from the slipp'ry bank he roll'd;
Now with the rapid current he contends,
Large draughts of water swallows, and extends
His feeble arms, but, hoping most to gain
By pray'rs success, he vows but vows in vain.
His breathless body, floating down the brook,
Great Jove beheld, and kind compassion took:
“Live still,” he cry'd, “but in the stream remain,
And dwell for ever with the finny train;
Death was so near at hand, you need not grieve
For a short space a feeble trunk to leave.”
Now forth his arms as leathern fins extend,
And in a tail his feet contracted blend;
The form of scales his tatter'd garments wore;
His back look'd dry and wither'd as before;
Still on his chin a length of beard remain'd,
His teeth he lost, but harmless gums retain'd,
These, in a fish, the marks of age are deem'd,
For age alone the mullets are esteem'd;
And length of years, by which all other things
Decay, to these increase of honour brings.
42
I to the fable lent a list'ning ear,
And thus began; when I both see and hear
The various arts of fishers, and survey
How they the fish deceitfully betray,
Reflect I must with equal grief and truth;
That the same arts deceive unwary youth,
The snares, of old for fish alone design'd,
Are now employ'd to captivate mankind;
Man catches man, and by the bait betrays
With proffer'd kindness, or, still cunning, lays
Nets to entrap th' unwary, and embroils
Cities and towns to profit from the spoils.
For you, dear youths, soft pleasure lies in wait,
And hides her hook beneath a honey'd bait,
But all her treach'rous gifts will only gain
For a short joy a lasting load of pain.
Here when the bait allures the fish to taste
The transient pleasure of a sweet repast,
You see for this how dearly he must pay;
Life is the purchase, and himself the prey.
Thus soft allurements serve to varnish o'er
The frauds of pleasure, unperceiv'd before;
But if a youth is once inspir'd, he'll find
He cannot void the poison from his mind;
No more than could the fish when snar'd withdraw
The crooked steel from his tormented jaw;
While lasting grief for short delights he gains,
Still rues his transient joys with ever-during pains.
And thus began; when I both see and hear
The various arts of fishers, and survey
How they the fish deceitfully betray,
Reflect I must with equal grief and truth;
That the same arts deceive unwary youth,
The snares, of old for fish alone design'd,
Are now employ'd to captivate mankind;
Man catches man, and by the bait betrays
With proffer'd kindness, or, still cunning, lays
Nets to entrap th' unwary, and embroils
Cities and towns to profit from the spoils.
For you, dear youths, soft pleasure lies in wait,
And hides her hook beneath a honey'd bait,
But all her treach'rous gifts will only gain
For a short joy a lasting load of pain.
Here when the bait allures the fish to taste
The transient pleasure of a sweet repast,
You see for this how dearly he must pay;
Life is the purchase, and himself the prey.
Thus soft allurements serve to varnish o'er
The frauds of pleasure, unperceiv'd before;
But if a youth is once inspir'd, he'll find
He cannot void the poison from his mind;
No more than could the fish when snar'd withdraw
The crooked steel from his tormented jaw;
While lasting grief for short delights he gains,
Still rues his transient joys with ever-during pains.
44
THE END.
Rev. John Duncombe, of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, Rector of Hearne, Kent, and St. Andrew, with St. Mary Bredman, Canterbury. Ob. Jan. 19, 1786, æt. 56. See Gent. Mag. Vol. LVI. pp. 187–451, where this translation is mentioned. It is now printed from the copy referred to as in the possession of the late Mr. Reed. See his Translation of Vaniere's fifth book in George Jeffreys's Miscellanies, 1754, 4to.
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