Horace His arte of Poetrie, Epistles, and Satyrs Englished and to the Earle of Ormounte By Tho. Drant addressed |
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To Augustus
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 | Horace His arte of Poetrie, Epistles, and Satyrs Englished |  |
To Augustus
Since thou sustaines such businesand so much bringste abowte,
Defends the Itale realme wyth armes,
with mannors sets it out,
Reformes with lawes: I shold but do
the common wealth much wrong,
If I shoulde stay thy well spente time,
Cesar, with talking long.
Both Romulus, and God Bacchus,
Pollux, and Caster to
For valiante feates of chiualrie
Saintes shryned longe ago,
Whilst they made their abode on earthe
Emongste vs mortal men,
Stayde warres, built townes, and laide out fieldes,
they much compleined then,
That honor such so plawsible,
did not ensew their acts,
As they did thinke they had deserud
by merits and their factes.
He that did crowse, and culpon once
Hydra of hellish spyte,
And monsters knowne with fatall toyle
to fetters frusshed quyte,
Perceaud this by experience,
that Monsters all do fall
Through manlines: enuie is tamde
at death, or not at all.
that all thinges brings to passe
With skil, and none loues him, till he
be lapde in leaden masse.
Auguste, to the now present here,
we present honors due,
And alters make to thy greate name,
by that name we sweare true,
That anye thinge in anye place
was neuer lyke to the:
And dare auer, and well auouche
that neuer none shalbe.
The romishe people wise in this,
in this point only iust
Before the Grekes, and Romane guydes
prefer the as they must.
In this case doumes men very good,
in that they iudge of the:
In other thinges me thinks they seme
not so vpright to be.
Hating, and lothinge all such works,
as lewde, and ful of crymes,
Which were not fetchde from forren landes,
or pende in all theire tymes.
Such fawters of antiquitye
that tables made be men,
Deuysed and auctorished
by well knowne Romanes ten,
The storyes, and the iestes of kings
reiestred longe before,
Relegiouse bookes, and Cronicles,
by prophets writ of yore:
These workes they say the musies once
in Albane mount did tell.
Nedes must they cum from mouthe of muse,
for they so much excell.
so if they be the best,
So let vs iudge of Romaine woorkes
and then is all at rest.
Then chawke is cheese, and night is day
plaine speaking is to stut,
Within the Olyue nowght is hard,
nowght hard without the nut:
Wee then haue taken vp our stande,
and cum to fortunes tip.
But since we paint, and singe as well
wrastle as well, and skipp
As doth the Grecians pickd for nonce,
as good in any game.
Why shoulde we then in poetrie
distrust t'attayne the same?
If tyme do make mens poems good
as it doth make good wyne,
Then would I know how many yeares
a poet do assyne.
The wryter that departed hence
an hundred yeares agoe,
Emongst the poets new, or ould,
where shal we place him (lo?)
Mongste good, or bad: In sadnes nowe
to exclude all brabling moode,
How many winters do you wene
will make a poet good.
H'is ould, and good that hath bene deade
an hundreth yeres complete.
And he that lackes a yeare, or monthe
where shall he haue his seat?
Emongst the poets auncient,
whom all men do approue:
and neuer age shall loue?
He takes his place amongst the olde
the case is very cleare,
If he cum short of his accoumpt
but one monthe, or one yeare.
I take it thus Our Rome sayth to
that one yeare breedes no square.
Then lyke as one from horses taile
should twitche out heaire by heaire,
I take out one, and then one yeare
subtracting one, by one
Whilste he deceaude shall well perceaue
the hundred to be gone:
Who going to his cronicles
doth iudge all rymes by time,
And excepte death hath hallowed it
allowes no kynde of ryme.
Ennie wyse, stronge, and as he thoughte
an other Homere he,
Of the which dome concerninge hym
(yet dyuers other be)
Coulde not performe his promis tho
lyke Homere to indyte
Though he wende he had Homers sowle
and euen as well could wryte.
Neuie he is not in our handes
his want doth vex our minde,
So sacred be the poets oulde
and Rome to them so kynde.
If it be askd who was the beste:
Pacuuius doth beare
The bell for lore, and Actius
doth sounde his thumpinge geare:
To Menander the Commicke gowne
of Afphranus was fit.
of Epicarme did hit.
Cecilius in grauitie,
Terence in art doth passe.
Those Rome doth cun, those mightie Rome
doth crowde thicke in compasse
Of Theatre, doth gaze on those
to Poets those bee mounted.
And all from Liuie to our tyme
be perfect poets counted.
The people sumtymes see a truthe,
sumtymes are ouersene.
If they so praise these Poets, which
in alder time haue bene,
If they make them Aperse Aes
that none are like to them:
The people then is misconceaude,
such vmpers I condemne.
If they do thincke that ould men write
sum harde, sum out of vse,
Sum slowthfully, and lowslie to,
and do not them excuse,
Wyse is that folke, and of my minde
and iudgeth vprightly,
I do not blame, nor haue not wishte
that Liuies verse should dye,
Which crewell, sharpe, Orbilius
did teache to me a childe.
How they I maruell seme to trim,
such maiestie to beare,
That they to principale good stuffe
approchinge on so neare
Mongste whiche if one well vttred worde
haue glimpsed at a shyne:
Or if there be a verse or twaine
that semeth sumwhat fyne:
to be summ preciouse thinge,
And dare vnto the Stationer
as sailable it bringe.
I thincke not much that thinges are carpde
comde from a blockyshe pate,
But that those things are counted worse
which were commencde of late.
The lycence of the auncients
I neuer mente to craue:
There honors and their good rewardes
I woulde be glad to haue.
If Attaies interlude were good
(in case if I shoulde doubt)
For that it spoke of tryfling toyes,
certes a shameles lowte
Our seniors woulde blame me al,
for that I would amende
Those things, which Esopus the graue
and learned Rossie pende.
Or that they thincke nothinge is good
that is not to their pay,
Or that to their inferioures
they thinke shame to obey.
And that they thincke it now a shame
to leaue their wilsom waies,
Which these haue berdles learned once,
and in theire youthfull dayes.
He that can praise the Anthymmes of
kinge Numa, though that he
Be lyke my selfe, yet nedes must he
of greater iudgement be.
He cannot he delyte himselfe
in those which dyed of late.
Us eeke, and oures he pincheth at,
both deadly he doth hate.
accompted of so could
As now of vs, where now had bene
these workes, which we call oulde?
Or what thinge publique had there bene
written, and extante then
Which might be red, and flye abrode
amongst the handes of men?
As sone as Greece abandonde warre,
and gan to fall to toyes,
(As done those folke which gin to tast
at ease of fortunes ioyes)
Now to horses, now to wrasslings
attentyue much it was,
To viewe straunge workmanship in stone
in Iuorye, and brasse.
Hangde vp their lyuelie phisnomies
in tables dighted gaie:
Sumtimes did ioy in melodie,
sumtimes in tragique playe:
Lyke as the infant vnder nurse
cryes still to haue the teate,
And afterwarde at ryper age
doth leaue her loued meate:
So chaungde the grekes. For what O loue
is so nouell, and straunge,
But minde of man still discontent
woulde see a further chaunge
Things sweat or sower stil change by chaunce
and varie frome their kyndes,
So chaungeth goulden peace to warre
so chaunge the luckie wyndes.
Longe was it pleasaunte vnto Rome,
a solempne vse to wake,
And in thine open house earely
great busie paines to take:
and firmelie to fore caste
How that theire money well bestowde
might multiple at last.
To heare their betters teache the worse,
by honest trade to gaine:
And to extinguishe hurtful lust
the parent of much paine.
The fickle folke haue changde theire minde,
eche man is burning hote
To be a starte vp wryter straighte
in that a lone, aflote.
The younge, the ould of grauer wittes
at supper haue with baye
Their pendaunte lockes encompasde rounde
and verses they outlay.
Yea I my selfe that vse to saye
I wryte no kinde of ryme:
Am founde more lyinge then the Parthes:
and do cal for betime
Ere sonne be vp, my trinckets al,
my paper, deske, and quill.
He is a fraide to rule the ship
that can rule her but ill:
None dare make boulde to minister.
vnto his patiente
Woormewoode, except he know the thing,
and know to what intente.
Phisitions with their owne arte
wil onlie haue to do:
The blacksmith he with shop and styth
doth mel, and looke vnto.
Learnde, and vnlearnde we poemes pen
on all handes in eche place.
Our error tho, and small frensie
what great vertues, and grace,
the poets fixed minde
Is commonly not couetouse,
nor rauishd from his kynde.
Uerses he loues, them only plyes
his losses, (as the guyle
Of seruantes vile his house is brent)
at those he doth but smyle.
No fraude he meaneth to his frende
to Orphaines infants none.
He can dyet with grudginge breade,
and peasecoddes all alone.
Good in cittye, though he be but
a milksop in the warre:
If you graunt this that great affayres
by small thinges helped are:
The tender stammering mouth of boyes
the poet frames by pains:
At the same times from language lewde
their eares he doth restraine.
Straight he instructs their brests with rules,
as frindly as may be,
Of dumpishnes, enuye, and ire
a sharpe controwler he.
He shewes to spende the time to cum
by samples past before.
He doth reiesture acts wel dun,
comforts the sicke, and pore.
How should yonge virginnes, & smal boyes
haue knowne how they might praye,
Except the muse had poets rasde
to teache them what to say.
The queare thus taught craues helpe from heauen
and feeles it cum with all.
This fayre, speachde queare through learned prayer
waters frome high doth call.
all daungers full of feare.
Obteineth peace, of corne and graine
a much abundaunte yeare.
The goddes aboue are calmd with verse,
with verse the hagges of hell.
The fermers oulde, stronge with a small,
that led their liues so well,
Their haruist done refreshde their corpes.
On hollie dayes with cheare,
And minde with sporte, which such harde hap
for better hope did beare.
With wyfe, babes, seruaunts, to Tellus
did sacryfice a swyne,
And to Syluanus offred milke
a sacryfice deuyne.
To Genius that makes men mynde
the shortnes of their dayes,
They sacryficed flowers, and wine
and lo by such like wayes,
Came firste the fraunchyse Fessentine,
the rude vnciuill sorte,
Did rayle at wil in rural ryme
through fredom of the sporte.
And this licence through many yeres
in pleasaunt plight did stay,
Whilst to a very open rage
was turnde the hastie play.
This rage right honest families
assailde, and was not blamde,
Whilst honest men toke it in snuffe
to see them selues defamde.
And those that were not blemishde yet
in generall did feare
To what ende might procede at length
this sawcie tauntinge geare.
annexed to the same:
For very rygor of the lawe
they tornde their former trade:
Fayre woorded rymes to please the eare
gan then for to be made.
The conquerd Greece, her victor Rome
with poemes did delyte,
And brought artes into Italie,
a realme vnciuil quyte.
So vanished Saturnes piuishe rythmes
which he before had taught,
And better speach, the clottred clotte
of duncerie brought to nowght.
Yet manye a wynter after that,
Did base speache with vs staye,
And left mongst vs sum footesteppes yet
remainyng to this day.
For Rome to greakish writings laide
her eare but now of late,
And beinge after Punicke warres
in calme, and quyet state,
Began then first to make the searche,
and partly for to smell
What Eschill, Thespis, Sophocles,
had put in writinge well
If worthely they could translate
then gaue they first assay,
Hawtie, and sharpe by nature they
and for their proper pay,
They breathe thing tragicall enough
and luckily are boulde:
But they feare blemishe in their worke,
and no such shame they woulde.
A commodie is thought to be
a thinge of lesser payne,
the most therof is tayne.
A commodie is so much more
of great, and weightie charge,
Because her libertie is strayte,
at least not very large.
Behold Plautus how he sets out,
by what apparaunte arte
The beardles louer, heedfull syer,
and craftie Lenos part.
Dorsen in paintinge parisits
bestoweth all his vaine:
Right dessolute in all the rest,
as one that takes no paine,
If he may cofer vp the coyne
or hent it once in hande,
Gramercye let his commoditie
or settle downe, or stande.
He that for brute, and wyndlik fame
doth bringe to stage a playe,
Him manie hearers wil make proude,
small number will dismaye.
So small it is, so light it is,
that makes the gloriouse mynde,
That huffes it vp, and puffes it downe
most chaungeable by kinde.
Both commodies, and Tragidies,
Fayre well say I, if that
The peoples euill voice make mee leane,
or good voyce make me fatte.
These two doth much exanimate,
and strykes the hart full coulde,
And makes those poets much ashamde,
that ought most to be bolde,
That oft the greater companye,
in vertue few, and base,
at buffits for their place,
Though all our nobles like it well
in midst of all the plaie,
To beare baytinges, or pricke playings,
our Rudesbies must awaye.
Yea now our nobles do at length
their eares from toyes restrayne:
Yet flote their eyes, and hede of toyes
which be but very vaine.
They can sustayne fower howers to see
our stagies brauelie dight,
Of horsemen tropes, of footemen ranckes,
how they are put to flight:
Straight, captiue kinges are haild in sight
with pinnyand armes behinde:
The wagon, coche, horselitter, Barge,
to follow are assinde:
The captiue booties must be seene,
all things to please the eye:
To heare a learned commodie
we wery by, and by.
Democritus if he were here
wher he was wunt to be,
He would I warrante laugh a pace,
and make a noble glee,
If that the whyte straunge Elephante,
or yet the Camell can
Reteyne the people attentiue,
and make so many scan,
A gawishe sort gredie to gase
not gredie to be tawght:
At whom more then at any vyce
a wiseman would haue lawght.
What so is tould amongst thee flocke
so as it cumes to passe,
a tale vnto an asse.
What noyse, or noyses to this noyse,
comparable in sounde?
So sterne it is, so shrill it is
when th' eccho doth rebounde
The rore of wooddes, the rore of seas
thou wouldest thinke to heare:
Such rule, and ruffle make the rowte
that cum to see our geare.
Deuyses, pagaunts, vestures straunge
with which the players drest,
The people hauinge harde no worde
to clap their handes are prest.
Masters why lawgh you so (sayth one)
what did the players say?
Nowght yet (sayth one) we lawgh to se
the goodly garments gay,
The coollor cleare, the noble dye
vpon that purple gowne:
Most like vnto the purple hue
which cums fro Tarent towne.
Lest thou should thinke that I disprayse
the thing which I do make
Because it is kynde of charge
which other vndertake:
That poet on a stretched rope
may walke and neuer fall,
That can stere vp my passions,
or quicke my sprytes at all.
Stere me, chere me, or with false feares
of bugges fill vp my breast,
At Athens now, and now at Thebes,
by charminge make me rest.
Concerning vs which studie not
to serue the staringe stage,
may reede from age to age.
If thou dost meane to haue vs pen
sum clercklie worke in deede,
Worthie Sir Phebe, and to put oute
our bookes with better spede,
Cutte of the carke that nippes our harte,
(a woorke of passing meede)
That poets with more feruent minde
then commonly is seene
May viset oft the musies nyne,
and Helicon the greene.
We poets do annoy our selues
by many kynde of wayes:
When I (as cutting downe, my vines)
mine own woorkes do dispraise.
Or when that thou art cloyde wyth booke,
(Like noddies, as we be)
We hurte our selues without respect,
in geuinge bookes to the.
Or if sum frende do reprehende
but one word of our vearse,
The hurt is ours that we becum
so byting, and so fearse.
When we do say, and oftens say
our rymes which none would heare:
When we take thoughte, becawse our toyle
to no man doth appeare,
Which we susteynde in making of
our poems freshe and fyne,
By drawinge them so featly forth,
and with so cleane a twyne.
Or when we thinke our matter needes
to such an ende must grow:
That, when, how we deuisers be,
assone, as thou shalt know,
and make on vs with speede,
And cause vs write, and worke it so
that we no more shal neede.
It shal concerne your honor to
to haue to write mens acts.
Retayners to the musies house,
and famouse for their facts.
To make their deedes in peace, and warre
in stately style to sette:
Such dedes as to vnworthie Clarks
we ought not to commit.
To Alexander Cherilus
was welcum at those tymes:
Who gaue him crownes (a princelie gift)
for raggie rugged rymes.
But as blacke incke doth blur, and doth
the paper fayre defyle:
So good thinges handled of a foole
do seme to be more vyle.
The self same king so prodigall,
that bowght his trashe so dere,
Made proclamacion to be made
that no man any where,
Excepte Apelles should portraye,
except Lysip in brasse,
Should cast to counterfeyte his face,
which of such corage was.
One painter passinge all the rest
his minde was to haue had:
One poet to, that poet was
Sir Cherilus the bad.
Though he were king and Conquerer,
he might be coumpted tho,
and fee a lossell so.
But thy iudgements which thou doste geue
will neuer worke the shame,
And gifts which they had with much praise
of the whiche gaue the same.
Virgill I meane, and Varius
thine owne deare Darlings twayne.
Thou hast deserued well of lore,
in quitinge of their payne.
Faces in brasse are not set forth
so lyuely in their kindes,
As by a poets workmanship
mens manners, and their mindee
Are well discribde, and painted out.
Its twyse so leeue to me,
To write a storye loftelie,
and stowte worded to be.
As low to creepe, and poorely peepe:
fayne would I take in hand
To speake of lands, of hawtie towers,
which on the rockes did stande.
Of saluage realmes, of fowghten fields
throughout the world to wyde:
And now reduce to peace agayne
thee onelie being guyde:
The turrets that in peace kepe close
Ianus the townes watcheman:
And Rome so fearefull to the Parthes
thee being cheuetaine.
This would I wryte, if that my power
could satisfye my will.
And true it is thy maiestie
a righte great style would fill.
Its standes not with my shamefastnes
to vndertake the thinge,
and shame vnto me bringe.
To much a doe doth hurte him moste,
that mels with it the most:
Cheefelie if he in toungues, and arts
be rashe to make his boste.
A man may soner beare awaye
and rather kepe in mynde
The thinge deryded, then that is
prayse worthie in his kynde.
That commendation force I not
which doth my merits passe:
As eke I would not haue my face
set out in wax or brasse.
For euil inuented poecie
I would not haue a name.
Leste praysed so be yonte al home
it chaunce me for to shame.
And lest my wrytings which I thought
eternal brute shal haue,
Upon one beare, as sone as I
be caryed to their graue.
I meane vnto the mercers shoppes,
wher francke incence is soulde,
And what soeuer spycerie
in waste paper is roulde.
| Horace His arte of Poetrie, Epistles, and Satyrs Englished | |