University of Virginia Library

The nynthe Satyre [of Horace]

Horace.
Well at this tyme, and wish to the,
all that thou canste require.
When as I see him haunte me still,
I askde him his desyre.

Str.
Why pardye syr, know you not me?
I am a greate lernde man.

Horace.
If it be so, I deme of you,
so muche the better than.
Lyues fayne, I would haue lefte him there,
and heruppon, I wente
Now swifte, now slow, and told my boy
trifles to none intente.
In faith I was through bathde in sweate,
and thoughte them in good case,
That were well in theyr chamber set,
or in sum secret place.
When he would praise the towne, or strets,
I answerd nought againe.
I see, (quod he) you would that we
were parted very faine.
But all for naught, it may not be,
Ile wayte vpon you now.
(Quod I) syr spare your coortesie,
I haue no nede of you.
I must goe se, a frende of mine,
whom you did neuer know,
Nye Cesars Orchardes, yonde Tyber
he dwelleth farre below,

Strange.
No busnes I, nedes muste I walke,
haue with you for this day,

Horace
Then (like the heuye lodened asse)
mine eares downe did I lay,

Str:
Syr if you knew my qualities,
there is no reason why,
Or Viske, or Varus should be more,
entire to you then I.

Viske, and Varus tvvo iolye Poets:

For who, for number or for grace,
dare mell with me in ryme?
Or who can daunce so footingly,
obseruing tune and time?
I can singe so melodiouslye,
that very Hermogene
Would enuy me, or if he harde
would yeld to me I wene.

Ho:
I thought to interchaunge a worde,
thy mother liueth she,
Or any of thy kynsfolke els,
that standeth nede of the?

Str:
In good time they are brought to stay,
and I remaine alone,

Horace
Dispatche thou me, so it must be:
for many yeres a gone,

Sabella a Prophetes.

Sabella (I a very childe)
did reede my drerye fate,
In folowinge forme, with tendre hande,
pressed vpon my pate.
Not poyson keene, nor enmies sworde,
this babe awaye shall draw,
Not stitche, or coughe, or knobbing gowt,
that makes the patiente slaw,
A prater shal becom his death,
therefore, let him alwayes
If he be wise, shun iangling iackes,
after his youthful dayes.
We came to Lady Vestas churche,
the fourth part of the day
Whilst language passed to and fro,
was passed cleane away.
He stode in bondes, (as he tould me)
in courte for to appere,
Or sentence els definitiue
should passe against him cleare.
If thou dost loue me frend (quod he)
to th' arches with me drawe.

Horace:
Nor can I stande vpon my feete,
nor know the cyuile Lawe.

Str:
I doubt if I shoulde leaue my cause,
or els thy frendlye companie.

Horace,
I pray the me, not yet (quod he.)
before me, by and by
He preseth on: my victor guide
I do succede a pace,
How doth your Lord Mæcenas now,
how stand you in his grace?

Str:
It is a rare and wittye parte,
in frendship long to dwell,
Horace, I tel the as a frend,
thou hast vsd fortune well,
If that thou woldste plante me in once,
(in forfitte of my heade)
Thou shouldste no doubte, haue me a frende,
woulde stande the in good steade.
Within a monethes space or twaine,
Mæcenas I woulde claw
That all the reaste mighte blow theyr nayles,
or go to shough the dawe.

Horace.
We lyue not so, as thou doste thincke,
no house, more pure then this,
Nor none, that from those mischeues vyle,
more cleane and spotles is.
His riches, or his learnyng is
no preiudice to me:
There is a place accordingly,
for eche in his degree.

Str.
A thinge thou tells vncredible.

Hor.
I tell a sothefast tale,

Str.
Thou makes me glow faine woulde I cum
to be of his counsaile.

Hor.
If that you will, you haue a grace,
his fauour for to win:
The first assaulte is very harde,
by suite thou maiste get in.

Str.
I will not fayle brybes shall corrupte
his cheefist seruing men:
Though once or twice the gates be shut
I will not cease yet then:
Ile wayte my opportunitie,
to meete him in the ways,
To leade him home, to curtsey him,
and cap him when he stayes.
There is no good for to be done,
whilste we are lyuyng here:
Excepte we lye, faune, flatter, face,
cap, kneele, ducke, crouche, smile, flere.
He pratlyng thus, a frende of mine
one Fuscus Aristie,
Met me, who knew this chatting syr
almoste as well as I.
Stocke stille we stande, he askde my whence,
or whether that I woulde:
I haylde him backe, and by the hand,
of frendship did him houlde.
Squinting his eys, he gan to nod,
to call me thence away,
And yet dissemblingly he thoughte,
to dallye and to play
My harte in choller perboylde was:
I wis my frende (quod I)
You sayd, that you a matter had
to tell me secretly.

Fuscus.
An other tyme. I muste go see
the circumcised Iues
In keeping of their Saboth day,
what holye rytes they vse.

Horace
I loue not that religion.

Fuscus
I, of infirmitie
Am scrupulouse: and therfore syr,
I pray the beare with me.
Herrafter I wilbe your man,
both when and where you will,
This day dismis me to go roume,
throughout the streets my fill.

Hor.
The churle departes and left me stille
to feele my sharpe distresse.
By chaunce there cums this fellowes foe,
who nowe had got redresse
At him by law: varlet, (quod he)
I charge the for to stay,
And pray you (Horace) geue me leaue,
my mynde to him to say.
Content (quod I) you may be bould,
to worke your will for me,
My troblesum companion
arested then I see.
Both parties cry, the croude growes greate
through great Appollos grace,
It was my lucke for to escape.
so comberouse a case.