 | Works (1749) |  |
THE WORKS OF George Stepney, Esq
TO King JAMES II. UPON HIS Accession to the Throne.
In greater trophies which the triumphs gain;
And martyrs, when the joyful crown is giv'n,
Forget the pain, by which they purchas'd heav'n:
So when the Phænix of our empire dy'd,
And with a greater heir the empty throne supply'd;
Your glory dissipates our mournful dew,
And turns our grief for Charles to joy for you.
Mysterious fate; whose one decree could prove,
The high extream of cruelty and love!
Those wise resolves of providence accuse,
Which eas'd our Atlas of his glorious weight,
Since stronger Hercules supports the state.
England no more shall pensive thoughts employ
On him, she's lost; but him, she has, enjoy.
So Ariadne, when her lover fled,
And Bacchus honour'd the deserted bed,
Forgot her Theseus, and embrac'd the god.
On the University of Cambridge's burning the Duke of Monmouth's Picture, 1685. who was formerly their Chancellor.—In Answer to this Question
Turba Remi? sequitur fortunam, ut semper, & odit ------ Damnatos.
Yes, fickle Cambridge, Perkins found this true
Both from your rabble, and your doctors too,
With what applause you once receiv'd his grace,
And begg'd a copy of his godlike face;
But when the sage vice-chancellor was sure
The original in limbo lay secure,
As greasie as himself he sends a lictor
To vent his loyal malice on the picture.
The beadle's wife endeavours all she can
To save the image of the tall young man,
Which she so oft when pregnant did embrace,
That with strong thoughts she might improve her race;
But all in vain, since the wise house conspire
To damn the canvas traytor to the fire,
Lest it, like bones of Scanderbeg, incite
Scythe-men next harvest to renew the fight.
Then in comes mayor Eagle, and does gravely alledge,
He'll subscribe, if he can, for a bundle of sedge:
'Snigs, he'll be beholden to none but the muses;
And orders ten porters to bring the dull reams
On the death of good Charles, and crowning of James:
And swears he will borrow of the provost more stuff
On the marriage of Anne, if that ben't enough.
The heads, lest he get all the profit t'himself,
Too greedy of honour, too lavish of pelf,
This motion deny, and vote that tite tillet
Should gather from each noble doctor a billet.
The kindness was common, and so they'd return it,
The gift was to all, all therefore would burn it:
Thus joining their stocks for a bonfire together,
As they club for a cheese in the parish of Chedder;
Confusedly crowd on the sophs and the doctors,
The hangman, the townsmen, their wives and the proctors
While the troops from each part of the countries in ale,
Come to quaff his confusion in bumpers of stale,
But Rosalin, never unkind to a duke,
Does by her absence their folly rebuke,
The tender crearure could not see his fate,
With whom she'ad danc'd a minuet so late,
The heads who never could hope for such frames,
Out of envy condemn'd sixscore pounds to the flames,
Then his air was too proud, and his features amiss,
As if being a traytor had alter'd his phiz:
So the rabble of Rome, whose favour ne'er settles,
Melt down their Sejanus to pots and brass kettles.
On the late horrid Conspiracy.
The youth whose fortune the vast globe obey'd,Finding his royal enemy betray'd,
And in his chariot by vile hands oppress'd,
With noble pity, and just rage possess'd,
Wept at his fall from so sublime a state,
And by the traytor's death reveng'd the fate
The gen'rous Cæsar, when the Roman knew
A coward king had treacherously slain,
Whom scarce he foil'd on the Pharsalian plain:
The doom of his fam'd rival he bemoan'd,
And the base author of the crime dethron'd.
Such were the virtuous maxims of the great,
Free from the servile arts of barb'rous hate:
They knew no foe, but in the open field,
And to their cause, and to the gods appeal'd.
So WILLIAM acts—and if his rivals dare
Dispute his reign by arms, he'll meet 'em there
Where Jove, as once on Ida, holds the scale,
And lets the good, the just, and brave prevail.
To the Earl of Carlisle, upon the Death of his Son before Luxemburgh.
Ye envious pow'rs, that we should only see
This copy of your own divinity?
Or thought ye it surpassing human state,
To have a blessing lasting as 'twas great?
Your cruel skill you better ne'er had shown,
Since you so soon design'd him all your own.
Such fost'ring favours to the damn'd are giv'n,
When, to encrease their hell, you show 'em heav'n.
At once his father's, and his uncle's spirit?
Yet as much beauty, and as calm a breast
As the mild dame, whose teeming womb he blest.
H' had all the favours providence cou'd give,
Except its own prerogative to live;
Reserv'd in pleasures, and in dangers bold,
Youthful in action, and in prudence old;
His humble greatness, and submissive state,
Made his life full of wonder, as his fate;
One, who to all the heights of learning bred,
Read books, and men, and practis'd what he read.
Round the wide globe scarce did the busie sun
With greater haste, and greater lustre run.
True gallantry and grandeur he descry'd,
From the French fopperies, and German Pride.
And like th'industrious bee, where-e'er he flew,
Gather'd the sweets which on sweet blossoms grew.
Babel's confused speeches on his tongue,
With a sweet harmony and concord hung.
More countries then for Homer did contest,
Do strive who most were by his presence blest.
Nor did his wisdom damp his martial fire,
Minerva both her portions did inspire,
Use of the warlike bow, and peaceful lyre.
So Cæsar doubly triumph'd when he wrote,
Showing like wit, as valour when he fought.
From his own works, and souls by patterns makes,
Much of himself in him he did unfold,
And cast them in his darling Sidney's mold,
Of too refin'd a substance to be old.
Both did alike disdain an hero's rage,
Shou'd come like an inheritance by age.
Ambitiously did both conspire to twist
Bays with the ivy, which their temples kist:
Both fell like early blossoms in their prime,
By blind events, and providence's crime.
Yet both, like Codrus, o'er their yielding foe
Obtain'd the conquest, in their overthrow;
And longer life do purchase by their death,
In fame compleating what they want in breath.
Oh! had kind fate stretch'd the contracted span,
To the full glories of a perfect man;
And as he grew, cou'd ev'ry rolling year
A new addition to our wonder bear,
H' had paid to his illustrious line that stock
Of ancient honour, which from thence he took.
But oh!
So hasty fruits, and too ambitious flow'rs.
Scorning the midwifry of rip'ning show'rs,
In spight of frosts, spring from th'unwilling earth,
But find a nip untimely as their birth:
Abortive issues so delude the womb,
And scarce have being, ere they want a tomb:
With a new breath to fan your raging fire;
Whose each officious and unskilful sound
Can with fresh torture but enlarge the wound.
Cou'd I, with David, curse the guilty plain,
Where one more lov'd than Jonathan was slain;
Or cou'd I flights high as his merits raise,
Clear as his virtue, deathless as his praise;
None who, tho' laurels crown'd their aged head,
Admir'd him living, and ador'd him dead,
With more devotion shou'd enrol his name
In the long-consecrated list of fame.
But since my artless and unhallow'd strain
Will the high worth, it shou'd commend, prophane;
Since I despair my humble verse shou'd prove
Great as your loss, or tender as your love;
Shall the defect of written grief supply.
The Austrian Eagle.
At Anna's call the Austrian eagle flies,Bearing her thunder to the southern skies;
Where a rash prince with an unequal sway,
Inflames the region, and misguides the day;
'Till the usurper from his chariot hurl'd,
Leaves the true monarch to command the world.
The Nature of Dreams.
At dead of night imperial reason sleeps,And fancy with her train loose revels keeps,
Then airy phantoms a mixt scene display,
Of what we heard, or saw, or wish'd by day;
For memory those images retains,
Which passion form'd, and still the strongest reigns.
Huntsmen renew the chace they lately run,
And gen'rals fight again their battels won.
Spectres and furies haunt the murd'rers dreams,
Grants or disgraces are the courtier's themes.
The miser spys a thief, or a new hoard,
The cit's a knight, the sycophant a lord.
Thus fancy's in the wild distraction lost,
With what we most abhor, or covet most.
But of all passions, that our dreams controul,
Love prints the deepest image in the soul;
For vigorous fancy, and warm blood dispense
Pleasures so lively that they rival sense.
Such are the transports of a willing maid,
Not yet by time, and place to act betray'd,
That scene of joy, which yet she dyes to try.
Till fancy bawds, and by mysterious charms,
Brings the dear object to her longing arms;
Unguarded then she melts, acts fierce delight,
And curses the returns of envious light.
In such blest dreams Biblys enjoys a flame,
Which waking she detests, and dares not name.
Ixion gives a loose to his wild love,
And in his airy visions cuckolds Jove.
Honours and state before this phantom fall;
For sleep, like death, its image, equals all.
Verses imitated from the French of Monsieur Maynard, to Cardinal Richelieu.
I
When money and my blood ran high,My muse was reckon'd wond'rous pretty;
The sports and smiles did round her fly,
Enamour'd with her smart concetti.
II
Now, who'd have thought it once? with painShe strings her harp, whilst freezing Age
But feebly runs thro' ev'ry vein,
And chills my brisk poetick rage.
III
I properly have ceas'd to live,To wine and women, dead in law:
And soon from fate I shall receive
A summons to the shades to go.
IV
The warriour ghosts will round me comeTo hear of fam'd Ramillia's fight,
Whilst the vex'd Bourbons thro' the gloom
Retire to th'utmost realms of night.
V
Then I, my lord, will tell how youWith pensions every muse inspire;
Who Marlb'rough's conquests did pursue,
And to his trumpets tun'd the lyre.
VI
But should some drolling sprite demand,Well sir, what place had you, I pray?
How like a coxcomb should I stand!
What would your lordship have me say?
JUVENAL. THE EIGHTH SATYR.
The ARGUMENT.
In this satyr, the poet proves that nobility does not consist in statues and pedigrees, but in honourable and good actions: he lashes Rubellius Plancus, for being insolent, by reason of his high birth; and lays down an instance that we ought to make the like judgment of men, as we do of horses, who are valu'd rather according to their personal qualities, than by the race of whence they come. He advises his noble friend Ponticus, to whom he dedicates the satyr, to lead a virtuous life, dissuading him from debauchery, luxury, oppression, cruelty, and other vices, by his severe censures on Lateranus, Damasippus, Gracchus, Nero, Catiline; and in opposition to these, displays the worth of persons meanly born, such as Cicero, Marius, Servius Tullius, and the Decii.
The translator of this satyr industriously avoided imposing upon the reader, and perplexing the printer with tedious common-place notes; but finding towards the latter end many examples of noblemen who disgrac'd their ancestors by vicious practices, and of men
In tracing from the source our antient blood?
To have our ancestors in paint or stone,
Preserv'd as relicks, or, like monsters shewn?
The brave Æmilii, as in triumph plac'd,
The virtuous Curii, half by time defac'd,
Corvinus, with a mouldring nose, that bears
Injurious scars, the sad effects of years?
And Galba grinning without nose or ears?
By trees of pedigrees, or fame, or merit:
Tho' plodding heralds thro' each branch may trace
Old captains and dictators of their race,
While their ill lives that family bely,
And grieve the brass which stands dishonour'd by.
Their progeny immortal statues raise,
Yet, far from that old gallantry, delight
To game before their images all night,
And steal to bed at the approach of day,
The hour when these their ensigns did display.
Names gain'd by conquests in the Gallic war?
Why lays he claim to Hercules his strain,
Yet dares be base, effeminate and vain?
The glorious altar to that heroe built,
Adds but a greater lustre to his guilt,
Whose tender limbs, and polish'd skin disgrace
The grisly beauty of his manly race;
And who by practising the dismal skill
Of pois'ning, and such treach'rous ways to kill,
Makes his unhappy kindred-marble sweat,
When his degen'rate head by theirs is set.
The follies which ill grace a country-hall,
Challenge no wonder or esteem from me;
“Virtue alone is true nobility.
Live therefore well; to men and gods appear,
Such as good Paulus, Cossus, Drusus, were;
And in thy consular, triumphal show
Let these before thy father's statues go;
Place 'em before the ensigns of the state,
As chusing rather to be good than great;
Convince the world that you're devout and true,
Be just in all you say, and all you do;
A peer of the first magnitude to me:
Rome for your sake shall push her conquests on,
And bring new titles home from nations won,
To dignify so eminent a son.
With your blest name shall ev'ry region found,
Loud as mad Egypt, when her priests have found
A new Osiris, for the ox they drown'd.
By meaner acts, the glories of their race?
Whose only title to their father's fame
Is couch'd in the dead letters of their name!
A dwarf as well may for a giant pass;
A Negro for a swan; a crook back'd lass
Be call'd Europa; and a curr may bear
The name of tyger, lion, or whate'er
Denotes the noblest or the fiercest beast:
Be therefore careful, lest the world in jest
Shou'd thee just so with the mock-titles greet,
Of Camerinus, or of conquer'd Crete.
Rubellius Plancus, 'tis apply'd to you,
Who think your person second to divine,
Because descended from the Drusian line;
Tho' yet you no illustrious act have done,
To make the world distinguish Julia's son
By the town-wall, and for her living knits.
You are poor rogues, you cry, the baser soum
And inconsiderable dregs of Rome;
Who know not from what corner of the earth
The obscure wretch, who got you, stole his birth;
Mine I derive from Cecrops —may your grace
Live, and enjoy the splendor of your race—
Yet of these base Plebeians we have known
Some, who, by charming eloquence, have grown
Great senators, and honours to that gown:
Some at the bar with subtilty defend
The cause of an unlearned noble friend;
Or on the bench the knotty laws untye:
Others their stronger youth to arms apply,
Go to Euphrates; or those forces join
Which garrison the conquests near the Rhine.
While you, Rubellius, on your birth rely;
Tho' you resemble your great family
No more, than those rough statues on the road,
Which we call Mercuries, are like that god;
Your blockhead tho' excel in this alone,
You are a living statue, that of stone.
For being of a race above the rest,
But rather meant his courage, and his force?
To give an instance—we commend a horse,
Without regard of pasture or of breed,
For his undaunted mettle and his speed;
Who wins most plates with greatest ease, and first
Prints with his hoofs his conquest on the dust.
Proves jaded, and in frequent matches cast,
No savour for the Stallion we retain,
And no respect for the degen'rate strain;
The worthless brute is from New-market brought,
And at an under-rate in Smithfield bought,
To turn a mill, or drag a loaded life
Beneath two panniers and a bakers wife,
First, Sir some honour of your own acquire;
Add to that stock which justly we bestow
On those blest shades to whom you all things owe.
Whose swelling veins, if we may credit fame,
Burst almost with the vanity and pride,
That their rich blood to Nero's is ally'd;
The rumour's likely, for “We seldom find
“Much sense with an exalted fortune join'd.
Your credit by hereditary praise;
Let your own acts immortalize your name;
“'Tis poor relying on another's fame;
For, take the pillars but away, and all
The superstructure must in ruins fall;
As a vine droops, when by divorce remov'd
From the embraces of the elm she lov'd.
An arbitrator from corruption free,
And if a witness in a doubtful cause,
Where a brib'd judge means to elude the laws,
And he wou'd dictate what he'd have you swear,
Be not so profligate, but rather chuse
To guard your honour, and your life to lose,
Rather than let your virtue be betray'd;
Virtue the noblest cause for which you're made.
“Such do not truly live who merit death;
Tho' they their wanton senses nicely please
With all the charms of luxury and ease;
Tho' mingled flow'rs adorn their careless brow,
And round 'em costly sweets neglected flow,
As if they in their funeral state were laid,
And to the world, as they're to virtue, dead.
From passion and from avarice refrain;
Let our associates poverty provoke
Thy generous heart not to encrease their yoke.
Since riches cannot rescue from the grave,
Which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
And what the senate shall command, obey;
Think what rewards upon the good attend,
And how those fall unpitied who offend:
Who felt the thunder of the states decree,
For robbing the Cilicians, tho' they,
Like lesser pikes, only subsist on prey.
But what avails the rigour of their doom,
Which cannot future violence o'ercome,
Nor give the miserable province ease,
Since what one plund'rer left, the next will seize?
Cherippus then, in time your self bethink,
And what your rags will yield by auction, sink;
Ne'er put your self to charges to complain
Of wrong which heretofore you did sustain,
Make not a voyage to detect the theft:
'Tis mad to lavish what their rapine left.
From gentle taxes noble spoils accru'd;
Each wealthy province, but in part opprest,
Thought the loss trivial, and enjoy'd the rest.
All treasuries did then with heaps abound,
In ev'ry wardrobe costly silks were found;
The least apartment of the meanest house
Cou'd all the wealthy pride of art produce;
Pictures which from Parrhasius did receive
Motion and warmth, and statues taught to live;
Some Polyclete's, some Myron's work declar'd,
In others Phidias' masterpiece appear'd;
And crowding plate did on the cupboard stand,
Emboss'd by curious Mentor's artful hand.
Prizes like these oppressors might invite,
These Dolabella's rapine did excite,
Verres for these did sacrilege commit;
And when their reigns were ended, ships full fraught
The hidden fruits of their exaction brought,
Which made in peace a treasure richer far,
Than what is plunder'd in the rage of war.
Have nothing left but oxen for the plough,
Or some few mares reserv'd alone for breed;
Yet lest this provident design succeed,
They drive the father of the herd away,
Making both stallion, and his pasture, prey.
Their rapine is so abject and prophane,
They not from trifles, nor from gods refrain;
But the poor Lares from the niches seize,
If they be little images that please.
Such are the spoils which now provoke their theft,
And are the greatest, nay they're all that's left.
Who dare not bravely what they feel redress:
For how can fops thy tyranny controul;
“Smooth limbs are symptoms of a servile soul.
But trespass not too far on sturdy Spain,
Sclavonia, France; thy gripes from those restrain,
Who with their sweat Rome's luxury maintain,
And send us plenty, while our wanton day
Is lavish'd at the Circus, or the play.
For, shou'd you to extortion be inclin'd,
Your cruel guilt will little booty find,
All that from sun-burnt Afric can be squeez'd.
“Your talons from the wretched and the bold;
“Tempt not the brave and needy to despair;
“For, tho' your violence shou'd leave 'em bare
“Of gold and silver, swords and darts remain,
“And will revenge the wrongs which they sustain:
“The plundred still have arms.—
A fond, uncertain notion of my own;
No, 'tis a sibyl's leaf what I relate,
As fixt and sure as the decrees of fate.
Chuse him that has most virtue for your friend,
And give no way to any darling youth
To sell your favour, and pervert the truth.
Reclaim your wife from strolling up and down,
To all assizes and through ev'ry town,
With claws like harpies, eager for the prey,
For which your justice, and your fame will pay.
Keep your self free from scandals such as these;
Then trace your birth from Picus, if you please:
If he's too modern, and your pride aspire
To seek the author of your being higher,
Chuse any Titan who the gods withstood,
To be the founder of your antient blood,
Prometheus, and that race before the flood.
Or any other story you can find
From heralds, or in poets, to your mind.
Or cou'd you see with pleasure and disdain,
And heads-men lab'ring till they blunt their ax;
Your father's glory will your sin proclaim,
And to a clearer light expose your shame;
“For still more publick scandal vice extends,
“As he is great and noble who offends.
Yet blush not when you go to forge a deed,
In the same temple which your grandsire built;
Making his statue privy to the guilt;
Or in a bawdy masquerade are led
Muffled by night to some polluted bed?
Where his fore-fathers peaceful ashes sleep;
Driving himself a chariot down the hill,
And, tho' a consul, links himself the wheel:
To do him justice, 'tis indeed by night,
Yet the moon sees, and ev'ry smaller light
Pries as a witness of the shameful sight:
Nay when his year of honour's ended, soon
He'll leave that nicety, and mount at noon;
Nor blush shou'd he some grave acquaintance meet,
But, proud of being known, will jerk and greet:
And when his fellow beasts are weary grown,
He'll play the groom, give oats, and rub 'em down.
If after Numa's ceremonial way
He at Jove's altar wou'd a victim slay,
But by Hippona most devoutly swears,
Or some rank deity, whose filthy face
We suitably o'er stinking stables place.
To steer his course directly for the inn,
Where they have watch'd, expecting him all night,
A greasy Syrian, ere he can alight,
Presents him essence, while his courteous host,
Well knowing nothing by good breeding's lost,
Tags ev'ry sentence with some fawning word,
Such as My King, My Prince, at least My Lord;
And a tight maid, e'er he for wine can ask,
Guesses his meaning, and unoils the flask.
These innocent diversions, and pretend
That I the tricks of youth too roughly blame,
Alledging, that when young, we did the same.
I grant we did; yet when that age was past,
The frolick humour did no longer last;
We did not cherish and indulge the crime:
What's foul in acting shou'd be left in time.
'Tis true, some faults, of course, with childhood end,
We therefore wink at wags when they offend,
And spare the boy in hopes the man may mend.
But Lateranus, now his vig'rous age
Shou'd prompt him for his country to engage,
The circuit of our empire to extend,
And all our lives, in Cæsar's, to defend,
Mature in riots, places his delight
All day in plying bumpers, and at night
Pictures and bills, with “here are whores to let.”
Shou'd any desperate unexpected fate
Summon all heads and hands to guard the state,
Cæsar, send quickly to secure the port;
But where's the General? Where does he resort?
Send to the sutler's; there you're sure to find
The bully match'd with rascals of his kind,
Quacks, coffin-makers; fugitives and sailors;
Rooks, common soldiers, hangmen, thieves and tailors;
With Cybele's priests, who, weary'd with processions,
Drink there, and sleep with knaves of all professions,
A friendly gang! each equal to the best;
And all, who can, have liberty to jest;
One flaggon walks the round, that none shou'd think
They either change, or stint him of his drink,
And lest exceptions may for place be found,
Their stools are all alike, their table round.
Shou'd any slave, so lewd, belong to you?
No doubt, you'd send the rogue in fetters bound,
To work in Bridewell, or to plough your ground:
But, nobles, you who trace your birth from Troy,
Think, you the great prerogative enjoy
Of doing ill, by virtue of that race;
As if what we esteem in coblers base,
Wou'd the high family of Brutus grace.
To Rome's disgrace far worse than these behind:
Poor Damasippus, whom we once have known
Flutt'ring with coach and six about the town,
Is forc'd to make the stage his last retreat,
And pawns his voice, the all he has, for meat,
Or represent, or be himself, a ghost:
And Lentulus acts hanging with such art,
Were I a judge, he shou'd not feign the part.
Nor wou'd I their vile insolence acquit,
Who can with patience, nay diversion, sit,
Applauding my lord's buffoonry for wit.
And clapping farces acted by the court,
While the peers cuff, to make the rabble sport;
Or hirelings, at a price, their fortunes try,
Certain to fall unpity'd if they dye;
Since none can have the favourable thought
That to obey a tyrant's will they fought,
But that their lives they willingly expose,
Bought by the prætors to adorn their shows.
And you must either chuse to act, or fight;
Death never sure bears such a ghastly shape,
That a rank coward basely wou'd escape
By playing a foul harlot's jealous tool,
Or a feign'd Andrew to a real fool.
Yet a peer actor is no monstrous thing,
Since Rome has own'd a Fidler for a King:
After such pranks, the world it self at best
May be imagin'd nothing but a jest.
There you'll find Gracchus, from patrician, grown
A fencer and the scandal of the town.
The modest helmet he disdains to wear;
As Retiarius he attacks his foe:
First waves his trident ready for the throw,
Next casts his net, but neither levell'd right,
He stares about expos'd to publick sight,
Then places all his safety in his flight.
Room for the noble gladiator! see
His coat and hatband shew his quality.
Thus when at last the brave Mirmillo knew
'Twas Gracchus was the wretch he did pursue,
To conquer such a coward griev'd him more,
Than if he many glorious wounds had bore.
There's not a wretch so much to vice inclin'd,
His pupil, by whose tyranny he fell:
To expiate whose complicated guilt,
With some proportion to the blood he spilt,
Rome shou'd more serpents, apes, and sacks provide
Than one, for the compendious parricide.
'Tis true Orestes a like crime did act;
Yet weigh the cause, there's difference in the fact:
They bid him strike, and did direct his hand,
To punish falshood, and appease the ghost
Of his poor father treacherously lost,
Just in the minute when the flowing bowl
With a full tide enlarg'd his chearful soul.
Yet kill'd he not his sister, or his wife,
Nor aim'd at any near relation's life;
Ne'er play'd or sung upon a publick stage;
Never on verse did his wild thoughts employ,
To paint the horrid scene of burning Troy,
Like Nero, who to raise his fancy higher,
And finish the great work, set Rome on fire.
Such crimes make treason just, and might compel
Virginius, Vindex, Galba, to rebel:
To aggravate the wretched nation's curse?
Which exercise our mighty emperor's parts:
Such frolicks with his roving genius suit,
On foreign theatres to prostitute
His voice and honour, for the poor renown
Of putting all the Grecian actors down,
And winning at a wake their parsly crown.
Let this triumphal chaplet find some place
Among the other trophies of thy race;
By the Domitii's statues shall be laid,
The habit and the mask in which you play'd
Antigone's, or bold Thyestes' part,
While your wild nature little wanted art,
And on the marble pillar shall be hung
The lute to which the royal madman sung.
Than thy lewd friend Cethegus's, and thine?
To set our houses and our gods on fire:
An enterprise which might indeed become
Our enemies, the Gauls, not sons of Rome,
To recompense whose barbarous intent
Pitch'd shirts wou'd be too mild a punishment,
But Tully, our wise consul, watch'd the blow,
With care discover'd, and disarm'd the foe;
The lowly native of a country town,
Who till of late cou'd never reach the height
Of being honour'd as a Roman knight,
Throughout the trembling city plac'd a guard,
Dealing an equal share to every ward,
And by the peaceful robe got more renown
Within our walls, than young Octavius won
By victories at Actium, or the plain
Of Thessaly discolour'd by the slain:
Him therefore Rome in gratitude decreed
The father of his country, which he freed.
In the same village born, first plow'd for hire;
His next advance was to the soldier's trade,
Where, if he did not nimbly ply the spade,
His surly officer ne'er fail'd to crack
His knotty cudgel on his tougher back;
Yet he alone secur'd the tott'ring state,
Withstood the Cimbrians, and redeem'd our fate:
So when the eagles to their quarry flew,
Who never such a goodly banquet knew,
His collegue Catulus, tho' nobly born;
He shar'd the pride of the triumphal bay,
But Marius won the glory of the day.
Small their estates, and vulgar was their name;
Yet such their virtues, that their loss alone
For Rome and all our legions did atone;
Their country's doom they by their own retriev'd,
Themselves more worth than all the host they sav'd.
The last good king whom willing Rome obey'd,
Was the poor offspring of a captive maid;
Which Romulus, our sacred founder, wore;
Nicely he gain'd, and well possest the throne,
Not for his father's merit, but his own,
And reign'd, himself a family alone.
And with him lust and tyranny expell'd;
And to inhance the honour of their blood,
Shou'd have asserted what their father won,
And, to confirm that liberty, have done
Actions which Cocles might have wish'd his own,
What might to Mutius wonderful appear,
And what bold Clelia might with envy hear,
Open'd the gates, endeavouring to restore
Their banish'd king, and arbitrary power;
Whilst a poor slave, with scarce a name, betray'd
The horrid ills these well born rogues had laid;
The rods and ax, ne'er us'd in Rome before.
And courage to sustain a ten years war;
Tho' foul Thersites got thee, thou shalt be
More lov'd by all, and more esteem'd by me,
Than if by chance you from some Hero came,
In nothing like your father but his name.
As high as Rome, and its great founder's reach;
You'll find, in these hereditary tales,
Your ancestors the scum of broken jayles:
But a poor shepherd's boy, or something worse,
The family of the Fabii were descended of Hercules, in honour of whom the Romans built a temple in the Forum Boarium. Fabius Maximus, in remembrance of his services in the wars, against the people of Provence, Languedoc, Dauphiny, and other provinces of France, formerly known by the name of Allobroges, was surnam'd Allobrogicus, which title, his son wou'd have assumed, whom our author here censures, as a man of an effeminate person, a profligate life, and of dangerous practices.
Osyris, for teaching the Egyptians husbandry, had a temple built at Memphis; where he was worship'd in the shape of an ox, which the priests used to drown at a certain age; and gave out, their god was withdrawn, and absented himself for a few days; during which time 'twas their custom to go mourning and searching up and down till they found another ox to supply his place, and then they broke out with these exclamations, “we have found him, let's rejoice.”
I have taken the liberty to give this simile a modern air, because it happens to agree exactly with the humour of our author.
Phalaris was a tyrant of Agrigentum in Sicily; to flatter whose cruelty, Perillus invented a brazen bull, wherein people might be roasted alive, and their cries were not unlike the bellowings of an ox: but the tyrant had the justice to reward the artizan as he deserv'd, by making him first try the experiment.
This and the seven following verses are a sort of paraphrase upon two lines of the original, which I was forced to enlarge, because the sense of the author is too close and obscure.
The poet in this place speaks neither to Rubellius nor Ponticus, but in general to any perjur'd or debauch'd nobleman.
Numa Pompilius, the second king of Rome, the better to civilize the savage humour of the people, first introduced among them the fear and worship of the gods, and instituted the rites and ceremonies of priests, oaths, and sacrifices.
This period is perplext, and I fear will not be understood in our language, being only a description of the Roman gladiators, who were of two sorts, and had different names according to the arms and habit they appear'd with; one fought with a cymeter in his right hand, a target on his left arm, and an helmet on his head; he was call'd Mirmillo, or Secutor. The other wore a short coat without sleeves, call'd Tunica; a hat on his head; he carry'd in his right hand a javelin fork'd like a Trident, call'd Fuscina; and on his left arm a Net, in which he endeavour'd to catch his adversary, and from thence was call'd Retiarius. The meaning of the poet is, to reprehend Gracchus, whom he had before rebuked in the second satyr, for three vices at once: for his baseness, forasmuch as being a nobleman he will condescend to fight upon the publick theatre: for his impudence, in not chusing an habit which might have kept him disguis'd, and hindred him from being known: and for his cowardise in running away.
For the clearer understanding of what follows, it may be necessary to give a short abridgment of Nero's cruelties, follies and end: which may be found at large in his life, written by Suetonius and Tacitus, and in the continuation which Mr. Saville has added to his translation of the last of these authors, by way of supplement to what is wanting betwixt the annals and the history. But I shall only relate what I find mention'd in this satyr, and shall begin with his parricides.
Upon suspicion that Seneca his tutor had some knowledge of the conspiracy which Piso was carrying on against his person, Nero laid hold on this opportunity to rid himself of the uneasy censurer of his vices, yet allow'd him the liberty of chusing the manner of his death. Seneca was apprehensive of pain, and therefore desir'd to have his veins open'd, which he judg'd might be the most easy and pleasant method of dying; but finding it too tedious, he prevail'd with his friend and physician, Annæus Statius, to give him a draught of poison, which too operating very slowly, by reason his veins were exhausted, and his limbs chill'd, the standers-by, to make quicker dispatch, smother'd him with the steem of an hot bath. Juvenal not unjustly places this murder of Seneca among Nero's parricides, since a tutor ought to be esteem'd as a civil parent.
This bold thought and expression of Juvenal, is grounded on the Roman laws, whereby parricides were condemn'd to be sow'd up in a bag, call'd Culeus, with a cock, a monkey, a serpent and a dog, and thrown together into the sea, or any neighbouring river. This punishment of drowning in a sack, is still us'd in several parts of Germany, but without the company of those creatures above mention'd.
The story of Orestes, betwixt whom and Nero, Juvenal wou'd draw a parallel, is this; his mother Clytemnestra finding her husband Agamemnon was return'd alive from the siege of Troy, and fearing he might revenge her amours with Egystheus, with whom she had lived in adultery during her husband's absence, she thought the safest way might be to assassinate Agamemnon, by the help of Egystheus, at his first reception, and before he could suspect such an attempt. The manner how they dispatch'd him, is reported differently. Some authors relate, that as he was changing his linnen, he was stifled in a shirt sow'd together at the neck. But Homer in the 4th and 11th books of his odyssey, where he describes this murder, is of Juvenal's opinion, that he was kill'd at a banquet, when he little expected such treatment. Egystheus after this murder married Clytemnestra, and usurp'd the kingdom of Mycena 7 years: during which time, Orestes grew up to man's estate, and by the instigation of his sister Electra, and the assistance of some neighbouring princes, march'd from Athens, destroy'd and murther'd the usurper; and at last, under pretence of being mad, stabb'd his mother. Homer, as well as our author, justifies this revenge, as being undertaken by the advice of the gods: and Paterculus infers, they must needs have approved the action, since Orestes, after it, lived long, and reigned happily.
Nero cou'd not suffer his mother Agrippina, because of her encroaching on his government; for which reason he made frequent attempts upon her life, but without success, till at last Anicetus his bondman, undertook to stab her; which she perceiving, and guessing by whose orders he came, clapt her hand upon her belly, and bid him, with great presence of mind, strike there, supposing it deserv'd that punishment for bearing such a monster.
Britannicus, his brother by adoption, was poison'd by his orders, out of jealousy lest he shou'd supplant him. And Antonia, Claudius's daughter, was executed under pretence of a conspiracy, but in truth because she refused to marry Nero after the death of Poppæa.
He ordered his first wife Octavia to be publickly executed, upon a false accusation of adultery, and kill'd his second wife Poppæa, when she was big with child, by a kick on the belly.
He caus'd Rufinus Crispinus, son to Poppæa, to be drown'd as he was fishing; and Aulus Plancus, a relation of his mother's, to be kill'd, because she was fond of him.
I need mention no more of these unnatural murders, but go on to his other extravagancies.
He was industrious to be esteem'd the best musician of his age; and at his death, regretted nothing more sensibly, than that the world shou'd lose so great a master. To maintain this reputation, he frequently condescended to act and sing upon the theatre among the ordinary comedians, and took a journey to Greece on purpose to try his skill against the most famous artists of that country; from whom he bore away the garland, which was the usual recompence of the best performer, return'd to Rome in triumph, as if he had conquered a province; and order'd both the garland and instrument to be hung up among the banners and honours of his family.
He had likewise a great vanity towards being thought a good poet, and made verses on the destruction of Troy, call'd Troica; and 'tis reported he burnt Rome, to be more lively and natural in his description: tho 'tis more probable he destroy'd the old fashion'd buildings, out of dislike to the narrowness and crookedness of the streets, and to have the honour of rebuilding the city better, and calling it by his own name.
These monstrous frolicks and cruelties cou'd not but make his people weary of his government. Virginius Rufus, who was his lieutenant-general in Gaul, by the assistance of Junius Vindex, a nobleman of that country, soon persuaded the armies under his command to fall from their allegiance; and solicited Sergius Galba, who was lieutenant-general in Spain, to do the like, by offering him the empire in favour of mankind; which he at last accepted, upon intimation that Nero had issu'd out secret orders to dispatch him; and march'd with all the forces he cou'd gather, towards Rome. Nero not being in a condition to oppose such troops, fell into despair, which turn'd to an uncertainty what measures to take, whether to poyson himself, or beg pardon of the people, or endeavour to make his escape. The last of these methods seem'd most adviseable; he therefore put himself into disguise, and crept with four attendants only into a poor cottage; where perceiving he was pursued, as a sacrifice to the publick vengeance, and apprehending the rabble wou'd treat him barbarously, if he fell into their hands; with much ado he resolv'd to stab himself.
He was industrious to be esteem'd the best musician of his aged; and at his death, regretted nothing more sensibly, than that the world shou'd lose so great a master. To maintain this reputation, he frequently condescended to act and sing upon the theatre among the ordinary comedians, and took a journey to Greece on purpose to try his skill against the most famous artists of that country; from whom he bore away the garland, which was the usual recompence of the best performer, return'd to Rome in triumph, as if he had conquered a province; and order'd both the garland and instrument to be hung up among the banners and honours of his family.
He was industrious to be esteem'd the best musician of his aged; and at his death, regretted nothing more sensibly, than that the world shou'd lose so great a master. To maintain this reputation, he frequently condescended to act and sing upon the theatre among the ordinary comedians, and took a journey to Greece on purpose to try his skill against the most famous artists of that country; from whom he bore away the garland, which was the usual recompence of the best performer, return'd to Rome in triumph, as if he had conquered a province; and order'd both the garland and instrument to be hung up among the banners and honours of his family.
Catiline's conspiracy is a story too well known to be insisted on: he was of a noble family, but by his extravagancies had reduc'd himself to great want, which engaged him in bad practices. The Roman armies were then pursuing conquests in remote provinces, which Catiline judg'd the most seasonable opportunity for undertaking some desperate design: he therefore entred into a conspiracy with Cethegus, Lentulus, and other senators, and persons considerable by their births and employments, to make themselves absolute masters of their country, by seizing the senate, plundering the treasury, and burning the city.
Incendiaries by the Roman law were wrapt in a pitch'd coat, which they call'd Tunica Molesta, and burnt alive: as we see by Tacitus, Ann. Sect. 44. where Nero after having set Rome on fire, lays the blame and punishment upon the christians, by ordering them, with a cruel jest, to be light up, and serve as torches, when it was dark.
One Fulvia, whom Livy calls a common whore, tho' Plutarch makes her pass for a lady of quality, came to have some knowledge of this enterprize, and discover'd it to Cicero, a person whom Paterculus elegantly calls Virum Novitatis Nobilissimæ, since he was a man of mean parentage born at Arpinum, an inconsiderable town among the Volscians, but by his eloquence rais'd himself to the chief dignities of state, and happened to be consul at that time, who assembled the senate, and by a severe oration accused and convicted Catiline: however he, with a few of his party, found means to make his escape towards Tuscany, and put himself at the head of some troops which Manlius had got together in those parts, threatning publickly that he wou'd put out the fire of the city by the ruins of it. In the mean time Cethegus, Lentulus, and several other complices, were seized and strangled in prison by order of the senate, at Cato's persuation: and Caius Antonius Nepos, who was joint consul with Tully, march'd with what forces he could raise against Catiline, who in a sharp battel was kill'd upon the spot, with most of his followers, and, as Paterculus observes, Quem spiritum supplicio debuerat, prælio reddidit.
A promontory of Epirus, near the island Leucas, where Antony and Cleopatra were ruin'd by a famous sea fight.
Caius Marius, was likewise born at Arpinum, and of such poor parents, that he was first a plowman, then a common soldier, yet at last by his merit arrived to the highest employments. Once while he was consul, for that honour was seven times conferr'd on him, the Cimbrians attempted to make an excursion into Italy: but he kill'd 140000 of them, and made 60000 prisoners: for which victory a triumph was ordain'd him by the senate; but to decline the envy which might be rais'd by his good fortune, he solicited that Q. Luctatius Catulus, his collegue, who was of a noble family, might be permitted to triumph with him, tho' he had no share in the action.
Among the Romans there was a superstition, that if their general would consent to be devoted, or sacrificed to Jupiter, Mars, the earth, and the infernal gods, all the misfortunes which otherwise might have happened to his party, would by his death be transferred on their enemies. This opinion was confirmed by several successful instances, particularly two, in the persons of the Decii, the father and son here mentioned. The first being consul with Manlius, in the wars against the Latins, and perceiving the left wing, which he commanded, give back, he called out to Valerius the high priest, to perform on him the ceremony of consecration, which we find describ'd by Livy in his 8th Book, and immediately spurr'd his horse into the thickest of his enemies forces, where he was killed, and the Roman army gain'd the battel. His son died in the same manner, in the wars against the Gauls, and the Romans likewise obtain'd the victory.
Servius Tullius was son to Oriculana, whom Juvenal calls a serving-maid, but Livy supposes her to have been wife to a prince of Corniculum, who was kill'd at the taking of the town, and his wife was carried away captive by Tarquinius Priscus, and presented as a slave to his wife Tanaquil, in whose service she was delivered of this Tullius. The family had a great respect for the child, because of a lambent fire they observed to play about his head while he slept, which was interpreted as an omen of his future greatness; therefore care was taken of his education, and at last he was contracted to the king's daughter: Whereupon Ancus Martius's two sons, who were the true heirs of the crown, fearing his marriage might hinder their succession, hired two shepherds to assassinate Tarquinius, which they undertook, but could not execute so dexterously as was expected; for the king lived some days after the blow was given, during which time Tanaquil caus'd the gates of the palace to be kept shut, and amus'd the people, who were eager on a new election, with assurances that the wound was not mortal; that the king was in a fair way of recovery, and till he could appear abroad, required them to pay obedience to Servius Tullius; who, by this means, first got possession of the government in the king's name, and after his death usurp'd it 44 years in his own. At last he was forced out of the senate by Lucius Tarquinius, thrown down stairs, and murdered by his orders. Livy adds this commendation, that with him “justa ac legitima regna occiderunt; which agrees with Juvenal's calling him the last good king.
For Tarquin, who reigned 25 years after him, was hated for his pride and cruelty, and for the barbarous rape which his son Sextus committed on Lucretia, wife to Collatinus; who, by the help of
Titus and Tiberius, two sons he had by her, in the conspiracy, the sum of which was, that the gates of the city should be left open for the Tarquins to enter in the night time; and that the ambassadors might be assur'd of their sincerity, each member of the cabal delivered them, the night before they were to return, letters under their own hands for the Tarquins, with promises to this effect.
L. Junius Brutus, reveng'd this injury, by driving Tarquin and his whole race out of Rome, which from that time began to be governed by consuls: and the better to secure their liberty, Brutus administred an oath by which the Romans obliged themselves never to suffer any more kings, and made a decree, which proved fatal to his family, whereby it was declared a capital crime in any person who should endeavour by any means to bring back the Tarquins. However, they gave not over their pretensions, but sent ambassadors under pretence of solliciting that their estates at least might be restored them, but underhand to insinuate themselves among the loose young noblemen, who grew weary of a commonwealth, because the rigour of their new laws did not tolerate that licentious way of living, which they enjoy'd under the government of their kings, and to concert with them the best methods towards their restoration. This design was first proposed to the Aquilii and Vitellii: the last of these were brothers to Brutus's wife, and by that alliance easily engaged
Horatius Cocles being posted to guard a bridge, which he perceived the enemy would soon be master of, he stood resolutely, and opposed part of their army, while the party he commanded repass'd the bridge, and broke it down after them; and then threw himself, armed as he was, into the Tyber, and escaped to the city.
Mutius Scævola went into the enemies camp with a resolution to kill their king Porsenna, but instead of striking him, stabb'd one of his guards; and being brought before the king, and finding his error, in indignation he burned off his right hand as a penalty for his mistake.
Clelia, a Roman virgin, who was given to Porsenna as an hostage, made her escape from the guards, and swam over the Tyber.
Vindicius, a slave who waited at table, by chance over-heard part of their discourse; and comparing these circumstances with some others he had observ'd in their former conferences, he went straight to the consuls, and told what he had discovered. Orders were immediately issued out for searching the ambassadors, the letters above mentioned were intercepted, the criminals seiz'd, and the proof being evident against them, they suffered the punishment, which was newly introduced, of being tied naked to a stake, where they were first whipt by the lictors, then beheaded: and Brutus, by virtue of his office, was unhappily obliged to see this rigorous sentence on his own children.
To pursue the story; the Tarquins finding their plot had miscarried, and fearing nothing could be done by treachery, struck up an alliance with Porsenna, king of Tuscany, who, pretending to restore them by open force, march'd with a numerous army, and besieged Rome: but was soon surpriz'd with three such instances of the Roman bravery, in the persons of Cocles, Mutius, and Clelia, that he withdrew his army, and courted their friendship.
Romulus finding the city call'd by his name, not sufficiently peopled, established an asylum, or sanctuary, where all out-laws, vagabonds, and criminals of what nature soever, who could make their escape thither, might live in all freedom and security.
The author either means the bastard of Mars and Rhea Sylvia, a vestal virgin, of whose rape we have a relation in the beginning of Ovid's third book de fastis, or a parricide, for killing his brother Remus.
HORACE. BOOK III. ODE VII.
IMITATED.
I
Dear Molly, why so oft in tears?Why all those jealousies and fears,
For thy bold son of thunder?
Have patience till we've conquer'd France,
Thy closet shall be stor'd with Nants;
Ye ladies like such plunder.
II
Before Toulon thy yoke-mate lies,Where all the live-long night he sighs
For thee in lowsy cabbin:
And tho' the captain's Chloe cries,
'Tis I, dear bully, pr'ythe rise—
He will not let the drab in
III
But she, the cunning'st jade alive,Says, 'tis the ready way to thrive,
By sharing female bounties:
And, if he'll be but kind one night,
She vows, he shall be dubb'd a knight,
When she is made a countess.
IV
Then tells of smooth young pages whipp'd,Cashier'd and of their liv'ries stripp'd;
Who late to peers belonging,
Are nightly now compell'd to trudge
With links, because they would not drudge.
To save their ladies longing.
V
But Vol the eunuch cannot beA colder cavalier than he,
In all such love-adventures:
Then pray do you, dear Molly, take
Some christian care, and do not break
Your conjugal indentures.
VI
Bellair! who does not Bellair know?The wit, the beauty, and the beau,
Gives out, he loves you dearly:
And many a nymph attack'd with sighs,
And soft impertinence and noise,
Full oft has beat a parley.
VII
But, pretty turtle, when the bladeShall come with am'rous serenade,
Soon from the window rate him:
But if reproof will not prevail,
And he perchance attempt to scale,
Discharge the Jordan at him.
HORACE. BOOK IV. ODE IX.
I
Verses immortal as my bays I sing,When suited to my trembling string:
When by strange art both voice and lyre agree
To make one pleasing harmony.
All poets are by their blind captain led;
For none e're had the sacrilegious pride
To tear the well-plac'd laurel from his aged head,
Yet Pindar's rolling dithyrambic tide
Hath still this praise, that none presume to fly
Like him, but flag too low, or soar too high.
Still does Stesichorus's tongue
Sing sweeter than the bird which on it hung.
Anacreon ne'er too old can grow,
Love from every verse does flow;
Still Sappho's strings do seem to move,
Instructing all her sex to love.
II
Golden rings of flowing hairMore than Hellen did ensnare;
Others a prince's grandeur did admire,
And wond'ring, melted to desire.
Not only skilful Teucer knew
To direct arrows from the bended yew.
Troy more than once did fall,
Tho' hireling gods rebuilt its nodding wall.
Was Stenelus the only valiant he,
A subject fit for lasting poetry?
Who, to save others lives, expos'd his own?
Was only he so brave to dare his fate,
And be the pillar of a tot'ring state?
No; others bury'd in oblivion lye,
As silent as their grave,
Because no charitable poet gave
Their well-deserved immortality.
III
Virtue with sloth, and cowards with the brave,Are levell'd in th'impartial grave,
If they no poet have.
But I will lay my musick by,
And bid the mournful strings in silence lye;
Unless my songs begin and end with you,
To whom my strings, to whom my songs are due.
No pride does with your rising honours grow,
You meekly look on suppliant crowds below.
Should fortune change your happy state,
You could admire, yet envy not the great.
Your equal hand holds an unbiass'd scale,
Where no rich vices, gilded baits, prevail.
You with a gen'rous honesty despise
What all the meaner world so dearly prize:
Nor does your virtue disappear,
With the small circle of one short-liv'd year:
Others, like comets, visit and away;
Your lustre, great as theirs, find no decay,
But with the constant sun makes an eternal day.
IV
We barbarously call them blest,Who are of largest tenements possest,
Whilst swelling coffers break their owner's rest.
More truly happy those who can
Govern that little empire, Man;
Thro' all the glitt'ring paths of charming ill;
Who spend their treasure freely, as 'twas giv'n
By the large bounty of indulgent heav'n;
Who in a fixt unalterable state,
Smile at the doubtful tide of fate,
And scorn alike her friendship and her hate;
Who poison less than falshood fear,
Loth to purchase life so dear;
But kindly for their friend embrace cold death,
And seal their country's love with their departing breath.
| Works (1749) | |