 | A Modern Essay on the Tenth Satyr of Juvenal |  |
TO Henry Higden, Esq;
On his Translation of the Tenth SATYR OF JUVENAL.
I.
I know You, and I must Confess,From Sence so Celebrated, and so True,
Wit so Uncommon, and so New,
As that which alwaies shines in You;
I cou'd expect no less.
'Tis Great, 'tis Just, 'tis Noble all!
Right Spirit of the Original;
No scatter'd Spark, no glimmering Beams,
As in some Pieces here, and there,
Through a dark Glade of Duller Numbers gleams.
But 'tis all Fire! all Glittering every where
Grateful Instruction that can never fail,
To Please and Charm, even while you Rail.
By Arts thus Gentle and Severe
The Powers Divine first made their Mortals Wise;
The soft Reproach they did with Reverence bear;
While they Ador'd the GOD that did Chastize.
II.
Perhaps there may be found some Carping Wit,May blame the Measures of thy Lines,
And cry,—Not so the Roman Poet writ;
But thou for thy Instructer Nature chose,
That first best Principle of Poetry;
And to thy Subject didst thy Verse dispose,
While in Harmonious Union both agree.
Had the Great Bard thy Properer Numbers view'd,
He wou'd have lay'd his stiff Heroicks by,
And this more Gay, more Airy Path pursu'd,
That so much better leads to Ralliery.
Wit is no more than Nature well exprest;
And He fatigues and toyles in vain
With Rigid Labours, breaks his Brain,
That has Familiar Thought in lofty Numbers drest.
III.
True to his Sense and to his Charming Wit,Thou every where hast kept an equal Pace:
All his Brisk Turns exactly hit,
Justly maintain'd his Humour and his Grace:
And with the Language hast not chang'd the Face:
Great Juvenal in every Line,
True Roman still o're all does shine;
But in the Brittish Garb appears most fine.
IV.
Long did the Learned Author search to findThe Vice and Vanity of Humane-kind:
Long he observ'd, nor did observe in vain;
In every differing Humour found
Even there where Virtue did abound,
Some mortal Frailties reign.
Philosophers he saw were Proud
Of dull-affected Poverty.
Senators cringing to the Crowd
For trifling Popularity.
The Judge Reviles the Criminal at Bar.
And now because old Ages Ice
Has chill'd the Ardour of his willing Vice,
Snarles at those Youthful Follies which he cannot share.
From the vain-keeping 'Squire, and Cully'd Lord;
The fawning Courtier, States-man's Broken Word:
And the more faithless couzening Citizen.
The Tricks of Court and State to him were known;
And all the Vices veil'd beneath the Gown:
From the Sharp Pulpit to the Blunted Stall,
He knew, and gently did reproach them all.
V.
If Rome, that kept the lesser World in awe,Wanted a Juvenal to give them Law,
How much more we, who stockt with Knave and Fool,
Have turn'd the Nation into Ridicule.
The dire Contagion spreads to each degree
Of Wild Debauchery.
The mad Infected Youth make haste
To lay their Fortunes, Health, and Reason waste:
The Fop, a tamer sort of Tool,
Who dresses, talks, and loves, by Rule;
Has long for a Fine Person past.
Block-heads will pass for Wits, and Write,
And some for Brave, who ne'r could Fight.
Women for Chaste, whose knack of Cant
Boasts of the Virtues that they want:
Cry Faugh—at Words and Actions Innocent,
And make that naughty that was never meant:
That vain-affected Hypocrite shall be
In Satyr sham'd to Honest Sense by Thee.
'Tis Thou, our English Juvenal, alone,
To whom all Vice, and every Vertue's known:
Thou that like Judah's King through all hast past,
And found that all's but Vanity at last;
'Tis you alone the Discipline can use,
Who dare at once be bold, severe, and kind;
Soften rough Satyr with thy gentler Muse,
And force a Blush at least, where you can't change the Mind.
A. Behn.
TO H. HIGDEN, Esq;
On his Modern Way of Translating JUVENAL'S Tenth SATYR.
If
Poets without Fiction in Applause
Of their lov'd Muse speak Truth in their own Cause;
And Wit to Favourites gives a Lawful Claim,
To be Inroll'd in Deathless Books of Fame.
Howe'er the Rest of the fam'd Sisters thrive,
And happily to Time's last Sand survive,
Satyr alone finds a Hard Task to live.
Even half a Key in th' highest Flights of Glory,
Unlocks whole Volumes of Heroick Story.
Vertue in Robes of Lasting Dye array'd,
Is down even to Remotest Time convey'd.
Great Deeds are Read so Plain, and spoke so loud,
Casting a Lustre which to Age can shroud;
Her bright Divinity breaks through the Cloud.
No Antique Garb can against Worth prevail;
Alcides struts with Club and Lyons Tayl;
And Bess looks Great in Ruff and Farthingale.
Thus whilst Heroicks their Great Theams display,
Stalking abroad in Fields and open Day:
Remarking Satyr must to Coverts creep,
Pry in close Grotts, and obscure Closets peep.
They Copy by so weak and faint a Light;
Vice is their Theam; in Masquerade they Write,
And slyly walkiin gloomy Scenes of Night,
Thus whilst the warm Intrigue is just found out
And the fresh Calumny is dealt about,
Murmur'd and buz'd through all the Tickled Rout:
Oh! with what Lawrel Wreaths is Satyr Crown'd!
How ravishing the smart Iambicks sound!
But when the Grin, the Sneer, and Jest is past,
(Malice that runs so swift, and tires as fast)
Poor Satyr then, the Nine Days Wonder done,
Strait lies Neglected, and Forgot as soon:
With its own Parent, Scandal, does expire;
The generous son of an Ignoble Sire.
The Poinant Gall that holds Authentick Text
This Age, is damn'd t' Apocrypha the next.
The Flowry Banks our pleased Forefathers knew,
O'regrown by Time, we a Rude Labyrinth view,
Where Commentators groap without a Clue.
Of their lov'd Muse speak Truth in their own Cause;
And Wit to Favourites gives a Lawful Claim,
To be Inroll'd in Deathless Books of Fame.
Howe'er the Rest of the fam'd Sisters thrive,
And happily to Time's last Sand survive,
Satyr alone finds a Hard Task to live.
Even half a Key in th' highest Flights of Glory,
Unlocks whole Volumes of Heroick Story.
Vertue in Robes of Lasting Dye array'd,
Is down even to Remotest Time convey'd.
Great Deeds are Read so Plain, and spoke so loud,
Casting a Lustre which to Age can shroud;
Her bright Divinity breaks through the Cloud.
No Antique Garb can against Worth prevail;
Alcides struts with Club and Lyons Tayl;
And Bess looks Great in Ruff and Farthingale.
Thus whilst Heroicks their Great Theams display,
Stalking abroad in Fields and open Day:
Remarking Satyr must to Coverts creep,
Pry in close Grotts, and obscure Closets peep.
They Copy by so weak and faint a Light;
Vice is their Theam; in Masquerade they Write,
And slyly walkiin gloomy Scenes of Night,
And the fresh Calumny is dealt about,
Murmur'd and buz'd through all the Tickled Rout:
Oh! with what Lawrel Wreaths is Satyr Crown'd!
How ravishing the smart Iambicks sound!
But when the Grin, the Sneer, and Jest is past,
(Malice that runs so swift, and tires as fast)
Poor Satyr then, the Nine Days Wonder done,
Strait lies Neglected, and Forgot as soon:
With its own Parent, Scandal, does expire;
The generous son of an Ignoble Sire.
The Poinant Gall that holds Authentick Text
This Age, is damn'd t' Apocrypha the next.
The Flowry Banks our pleased Forefathers knew,
O'regrown by Time, we a Rude Labyrinth view,
Where Commentators groap without a Clue.
Whilst Satyr destined to so Harsh a Doom,
Must undergo such Hardship ev'n at Home;
Alas! what must it suffer when it walks
Abroad, and in a Forreign Language talks!
Where Loads of Dross the precious Oar enfold,
Skilful must th' Artist be t' Extract the Gold;
One practised to the World and Muses Laws,
And well acquainted with the Face he draws.
Satyr to Trace at Heels, and poorly Line
For Line Translate, is such a weak Design,
Does even the Marks of Life, and Spirit want,
A Jargon worse than a Fanatick Cant:
A Wise Attempt, and Justify'd by none
But some Enthusiast Prophet of their own.
Must undergo such Hardship ev'n at Home;
Alas! what must it suffer when it walks
Abroad, and in a Forreign Language talks!
Where Loads of Dross the precious Oar enfold,
Skilful must th' Artist be t' Extract the Gold;
One practised to the World and Muses Laws,
And well acquainted with the Face he draws.
Satyr to Trace at Heels, and poorly Line
For Line Translate, is such a weak Design,
Does even the Marks of Life, and Spirit want,
A Jargon worse than a Fanatick Cant:
A Wise Attempt, and Justify'd by none
But some Enthusiast Prophet of their own.
Thy Pencil scorns a Portraicture so faint:
Thou animate'st, what such dead Colours paint:
You Naturalize the Author you Translate,
And Classick Roman dress in Modern State.
Sprightly and Gay he makes his Visit here;
Drest Al-a-mode, and speaks en Cavalier;
Great Juvenal's Wit, who in an English Scene,
By Time's long Rust at best had pointless been,
Thou grind'st to a New Edge, to cut more keen.
From Letts and Rubbish clear'st the craggy Shore,
And driv'st thy own Triumphant Chariot o're.
His distant Heat does by thy Labour burn,
And Rear thy Phenix from his Spicey Urne.
Thou animate'st, what such dead Colours paint:
You Naturalize the Author you Translate,
And Classick Roman dress in Modern State.
Sprightly and Gay he makes his Visit here;
Drest Al-a-mode, and speaks en Cavalier;
Great Juvenal's Wit, who in an English Scene,
By Time's long Rust at best had pointless been,
Thou grind'st to a New Edge, to cut more keen.
From Letts and Rubbish clear'st the craggy Shore,
And driv'st thy own Triumphant Chariot o're.
His distant Heat does by thy Labour burn,
And Rear thy Phenix from his Spicey Urne.
E. Settle.
1
JUVENAL's TENTH SATYR, Made English.
Survey Mankind, muster the Herd
From smoothest Chin to deepest Beard;
Search every Climate, view each Nation,
from lowest to the highest Station;
From Eastern to the Western Indies,
From frozen Poles to'th Lyne that sindges:
Scarce will you find one Mortal Wight
Knows Good from Ill, or Wrong from Right,
'Cause clouds of Lust and Passion blind
And bribe with Interests our Mind;
And while they Combat in our heart,
Our Fondness crowns the conqu'ring part.
What is the thing under the Sun,
That we with Reason seek or shun?
Or Justly by our Judgment weigh'd,
Should make us fond of, or afraid?
What'ere is luckily begun
Brings sure Repentance at long-run.
The distant Object loomeing great,
Possest, proves oft an empty Cheat;
And he who wins the wish't for prize
A trouble often dearly buyes.
Some for their Family importune
And beg their ruin for a Fortune.
The Courteous Gods granting their Prayers,
Have intayl'd Curses on their Heirs.
Of Wizards some inquire their doom
Greedy to know Events to come
And by their over Caution run
On the same Fate they strove to shun:
Some have petition'd to be great
And eminent in Church and State;
This in the Warrs a famous Leader,
T'other at Bar a cunning Pleader;
The Cause on either side ensure yee,
By dint of noyse stun Judge and Jury:
And if the business won't bear water
Then banter and perplex the matter.
But their obstrep'rous Eloquence
Has fail'd ev'n in their own defence;
And saving others by Harranguing
Have brought themselves at last to hanging.
Milo presuming on his strength
Caus'd his own destiny at length.
From smoothest Chin to deepest Beard;
Search every Climate, view each Nation,
from lowest to the highest Station;
From Eastern to the Western Indies,
From frozen Poles to'th Lyne that sindges:
Scarce will you find one Mortal Wight
Knows Good from Ill, or Wrong from Right,
2
And bribe with Interests our Mind;
And while they Combat in our heart,
Our Fondness crowns the conqu'ring part.
What is the thing under the Sun,
That we with Reason seek or shun?
Or Justly by our Judgment weigh'd,
Should make us fond of, or afraid?
What'ere is luckily begun
Brings sure Repentance at long-run.
The distant Object loomeing great,
Possest, proves oft an empty Cheat;
And he who wins the wish't for prize
A trouble often dearly buyes.
3
And beg their ruin for a Fortune.
The Courteous Gods granting their Prayers,
Have intayl'd Curses on their Heirs.
Of Wizards some inquire their doom
Greedy to know Events to come
And by their over Caution run
On the same Fate they strove to shun:
Some have petition'd to be great
And eminent in Church and State;
This in the Warrs a famous Leader,
T'other at Bar a cunning Pleader;
The Cause on either side ensure yee,
By dint of noyse stun Judge and Jury:
4
Then banter and perplex the matter.
But their obstrep'rous Eloquence
Has fail'd ev'n in their own defence;
And saving others by Harranguing
Have brought themselves at last to hanging.
Milo presuming on his strength
Caus'd his own destiny at length.
The greedy care of heaping Wealth
Damns many a Soul and ruins Health,
And in an Apoplectick Fitt
Sinks them down right into the pitt.
How many Upstarts crept from low
Condition, vast possessions show?
Whose Estate's audit so immense
Exceeds all Prodigal Expence
With which compare that Spot of Earth,
To which these Mushroms owe their Birth:
Their Mannours to Dads Cottage show,
As Greenland Whales to Dolphins do.
Damns many a Soul and ruins Health,
And in an Apoplectick Fitt
Sinks them down right into the pitt.
How many Upstarts crept from low
Condition, vast possessions show?
5
Exceeds all Prodigal Expence
With which compare that Spot of Earth,
To which these Mushroms owe their Birth:
Their Mannours to Dads Cottage show,
As Greenland Whales to Dolphins do.
In Neroe's Plotting dismal times
Riches were judg'd sufficient Crimes.
First swear them Traytors to the State,
Then for their pains share their Estate.
Fat forfeitures their Toyles reward:
Poor Rogues may pass without regard.
Some are hook'd in for Sense and Wit,
And some Condemn'd for want of it.
The over-rich Longinus dyes:
His bright heaps daz'led Envious eyes.
Neither could deep Philosophy,
Wisdome, desert, or Piety
Rich Seneca from his Pupil save,
'Tis fit he send him to a Grave,
And then resume the wealth he gave.
Riches were judg'd sufficient Crimes.
First swear them Traytors to the State,
Then for their pains share their Estate.
Fat forfeitures their Toyles reward:
Poor Rogues may pass without regard.
Some are hook'd in for Sense and Wit,
And some Condemn'd for want of it.
6
His bright heaps daz'led Envious eyes.
Neither could deep Philosophy,
Wisdome, desert, or Piety
Rich Seneca from his Pupil save,
'Tis fit he send him to a Grave,
And then resume the wealth he gave.
The Guards the Pallaces beset,
For Noble Game they pitch their net:
While from Alarms and Pangs of fear,
Securely sleeps the Cottager.
If you by night shall happen late,
To Travail with a Charge of Plate;
With watchful eyes and panting heart,
Surpriz'd, each Object makes you Start:
While Rack'd with doubts, opprest with fear,
Each Bush does an arm'd Thief appear:
A shaken reed will Terrour Strike,
Mistaken for a brandish'd Pike.
Before the Thief, the empty Clown
Sings unconcern'd and Travailes on.
For Noble Game they pitch their net:
While from Alarms and Pangs of fear,
Securely sleeps the Cottager.
If you by night shall happen late,
To Travail with a Charge of Plate;
With watchful eyes and panting heart,
Surpriz'd, each Object makes you Start:
7
Each Bush does an arm'd Thief appear:
A shaken reed will Terrour Strike,
Mistaken for a brandish'd Pike.
Before the Thief, the empty Clown
Sings unconcern'd and Travailes on.
With warm Petitions most men ply
The Gods, their Baggs may multiply;
That riches may grow high and ranck
Out swelling others in the Bank.
But from plain wood and earthen Cupps,
No poyson'd draught the Peasant supps.
Of the Gold Goblet take thou care,
When sparkling wine's spic'd by thy heir:
Then who can blame that brace of Wisemen
That did in diffring moods despise men:
Th' old merry Lad saunters the Streets,
And laughs, and drolls at all he meets:
For Pastime rallys, flouts, and fools 'em,
Shamms, banters, mimicks, ridicules 'em.
The other Sage in maudling wise,
Their Errors mourns with weeping Eyes.
Dull Fools with ease can grin and sneere,
And Buffoons flout with sawcy jeere.
What sowrce could constant Tears supply,
To feed the sluces of each Eye!
Or t'others merry humour make,
His spleen continually to shake?
Since the rude Thracian in his City
Ne're saw procession half so pretty,
As modern Pageantry and State
Does on our City-Triumphs wait;
Than which no Interlude is gayer,
Whilst Sword and Cap usher the Mayor;
A Cap that does with Heads dispense
Without regard of Brains or Sense:
And whose mysterious Power translates
Mechanick Furs to Potentates,
From weighing Plumbs, to ballance States.
So Mayor and Aldermen from Stalls
Wiser than Pope and Cardinals,
From Shop to Bench with inspired Noddle
The Body Politick does waddle;
Where President mute Judge hears Cause
That Statute never read nor Laws.
So Rablais Gown conveys his spirit
To all succeeding Quacks that wear it.
Thus Furs, more proud than Ermyn, muster,
Gilt Jack-Chains give the Faction Luster;
Whilst the whole Livery attend,
Banners and Trophies without end:
Of honour'd Guests a Cavalcade
Whose Friendship by the Treat is made;
By flowing Bowls and City Custard
T'huzzahs and Io Pæans fluster'd.
Thus haughty Mayor without a Charter
Looks big, as if install'd 'oth' Garter:
Their Leaden Sword and Mace may swagger;
But the wise State secur'd their Dagger.
For Children and unskilful fools
Cut their own fingers with edg'd-tools.
The Gods, their Baggs may multiply;
That riches may grow high and ranck
Out swelling others in the Bank.
But from plain wood and earthen Cupps,
No poyson'd draught the Peasant supps.
Of the Gold Goblet take thou care,
When sparkling wine's spic'd by thy heir:
8
That did in diffring moods despise men:
Th' old merry Lad saunters the Streets,
And laughs, and drolls at all he meets:
For Pastime rallys, flouts, and fools 'em,
Shamms, banters, mimicks, ridicules 'em.
The other Sage in maudling wise,
Their Errors mourns with weeping Eyes.
Dull Fools with ease can grin and sneere,
And Buffoons flout with sawcy jeere.
What sowrce could constant Tears supply,
To feed the sluces of each Eye!
Or t'others merry humour make,
His spleen continually to shake?
9
Ne're saw procession half so pretty,
As modern Pageantry and State
Does on our City-Triumphs wait;
Than which no Interlude is gayer,
Whilst Sword and Cap usher the Mayor;
A Cap that does with Heads dispense
Without regard of Brains or Sense:
And whose mysterious Power translates
Mechanick Furs to Potentates,
From weighing Plumbs, to ballance States.
So Mayor and Aldermen from Stalls
Wiser than Pope and Cardinals,
10
The Body Politick does waddle;
Where President mute Judge hears Cause
That Statute never read nor Laws.
So Rablais Gown conveys his spirit
To all succeeding Quacks that wear it.
Thus Furs, more proud than Ermyn, muster,
Gilt Jack-Chains give the Faction Luster;
Whilst the whole Livery attend,
Banners and Trophies without end:
Of honour'd Guests a Cavalcade
Whose Friendship by the Treat is made;
11
T'huzzahs and Io Pæans fluster'd.
Thus haughty Mayor without a Charter
Looks big, as if install'd 'oth' Garter:
Their Leaden Sword and Mace may swagger;
But the wise State secur'd their Dagger.
For Children and unskilful fools
Cut their own fingers with edg'd-tools.
Could he in sober honest times
With sharp conceit tax petty crimes!
And every where amongst the rout
Find follyes for his Wit to flout:
Which, proves that Goatham and grose Clymes
Produce prodigious Wits sometimes.
The Joys and fears of the vain crowd,
And whimp'ring tears hee'd jeer aloud;
Wisely secure, Fortune deride
By Foppish Mortals Deify'd;
Bid her behang'd, and laugh at Fate
When threatned at the highest rate;
Whilst Fools for vain and harmful things
Pour out their Prayers and Off'rings,
Fastning Petitions on the Knees
Of their regardless Deityes.
With sharp conceit tax petty crimes!
And every where amongst the rout
Find follyes for his Wit to flout:
Which, proves that Goatham and grose Clymes
Produce prodigious Wits sometimes.
12
And whimp'ring tears hee'd jeer aloud;
Wisely secure, Fortune deride
By Foppish Mortals Deify'd;
Bid her behang'd, and laugh at Fate
When threatned at the highest rate;
Whilst Fools for vain and harmful things
Pour out their Prayers and Off'rings,
Fastning Petitions on the Knees
Of their regardless Deityes.
For place and power how many men vy
Procuring mortal Hate and Envy;
Heralds long winded Titles sound
Which the vain owners oft confound.
Down go their Statues in disgrace;
The Party hangs up in the place.
In rage they break Chariot triumphant,
Because a Knave first set his rump ont:
Poor Horses suffer for no fau't
Unless by bungling work-men wrought.
Procuring mortal Hate and Envy;
13
Which the vain owners oft confound.
Down go their Statues in disgrace;
The Party hangs up in the place.
In rage they break Chariot triumphant,
Because a Knave first set his rump ont:
Poor Horses suffer for no fau't
Unless by bungling work-men wrought.
The Founders Fournace grows red hot,
Sejanus Statue goes to pot:
That Head lately ador'd, and reckond
In all the Universe the Second,
Melted new forms and shapes assumes,
Of Pispots, Frying-pans, and Spoons:
The Crowd o'rejoy'd that Cæsar's living
Petition for a new thanksgiving.
How the base Rout insult to see
Sejanus dragg'd to Destiny!
Cryes one, that fellow I ne're brook'd,
How down and hangingly he look'd!
What blobber lips the rascal shew'd?
I told you hee'd ne're come to good.
But what's his Crime, or how detected?
That Question wholly is neglected:
What Evidence or Judges sit?
Pshaw, waw, that matters not a whit?
When so apparent was his Crime,
A formal process would lose time.
Long letters were from Capra sent
By Cæsar to the Parliament,
With orders not to be disputed,
The Traytor should be executed.
'Tis very well, th'other reply'd
Your servant Sir, I'me satisfy'd.
What thought the Mobile the while?
Nothing; tame animals they smile:
Contentedly drive with the Tyde
And alwayes hate the suffering side.
Had Fortune own'd Sejanus part,
And with success had crown'd his art:
And our young States-man had the hap
To've ta'ne the old Fox in his trap:
Then our successful Favorite
The World had own'd to've been i'th' right:
The fawning Rabble had that hour
Saluted him their Emperour.
Poor Roman fools since ancient date
Can Sell no voices in the State;
Now freed from Care, and living idle
Are taught to bite upon the Bridle.
Who once Dictators, Consuls, chose,
And did all Offices dispose,
Pass now ingloriously their dayes,
And meanly beg for Bread and Playes.
'Tis said Warrants are out to seise
Many and great Accomplices.
Likely; the Prince his Rage does burn as
Outragiously as fire in Furnace.
At Mars his Shrine I met Brutidius
With ghastly looks, all pale, and hideous,
Since the ill-manag'd Plot took vent
His looks declare his discontent,
As if for game ill play'd he meant,
Like Ajax to anticipate
With his own hands his ling'ring Fate.
But to wipe off suspition
On our part, let's to Tyber run;
While on the Banck the Corps does ly
Trample on Cæsars Enemy.
But 'twill do wisely our whole Crew
Of Servants should the action veiw;
That Friends and Foes may testify
How we abhor disloyalty.
The murm'ring vulgar at this rate
Did of the fal'n Sejanus prate:
Sejanus Statue goes to pot:
That Head lately ador'd, and reckond
In all the Universe the Second,
Melted new forms and shapes assumes,
Of Pispots, Frying-pans, and Spoons:
14
Petition for a new thanksgiving.
How the base Rout insult to see
Sejanus dragg'd to Destiny!
Cryes one, that fellow I ne're brook'd,
How down and hangingly he look'd!
What blobber lips the rascal shew'd?
I told you hee'd ne're come to good.
But what's his Crime, or how detected?
That Question wholly is neglected:
What Evidence or Judges sit?
Pshaw, waw, that matters not a whit?
When so apparent was his Crime,
A formal process would lose time.
15
By Cæsar to the Parliament,
With orders not to be disputed,
The Traytor should be executed.
'Tis very well, th'other reply'd
Your servant Sir, I'me satisfy'd.
What thought the Mobile the while?
Nothing; tame animals they smile:
Contentedly drive with the Tyde
And alwayes hate the suffering side.
Had Fortune own'd Sejanus part,
And with success had crown'd his art:
And our young States-man had the hap
To've ta'ne the old Fox in his trap:
16
The World had own'd to've been i'th' right:
The fawning Rabble had that hour
Saluted him their Emperour.
Poor Roman fools since ancient date
Can Sell no voices in the State;
Now freed from Care, and living idle
Are taught to bite upon the Bridle.
Who once Dictators, Consuls, chose,
And did all Offices dispose,
Pass now ingloriously their dayes,
And meanly beg for Bread and Playes.
'Tis said Warrants are out to seise
Many and great Accomplices.
17
Outragiously as fire in Furnace.
At Mars his Shrine I met Brutidius
With ghastly looks, all pale, and hideous,
Since the ill-manag'd Plot took vent
His looks declare his discontent,
As if for game ill play'd he meant,
Like Ajax to anticipate
With his own hands his ling'ring Fate.
But to wipe off suspition
On our part, let's to Tyber run;
While on the Banck the Corps does ly
Trample on Cæsars Enemy.
18
Of Servants should the action veiw;
That Friends and Foes may testify
How we abhor disloyalty.
The murm'ring vulgar at this rate
Did of the fal'n Sejanus prate:
Would you on these Conditions, Sir,
Be Favourite and Prime-Minister,
As was Sejanus? Stand possest
Of Honours, Power and Interest;
Dispose supream Commands at will,
Promote, disgrace, preserve, or kill:
Be guardian to a careless King
Who in all pleasures takes his swing:
Cloyst'red in Bawdy Grots and Cellers,
With Pimps, Buffoones, and Fortune-Tellers.
Have Foot and Horse-Guards, the Command
Of Armys both by Sea and Land.
Why not? Though Good-men would not kill,
Yet in their pow'r they'd have it still:
What Pleasure can so tickle sense;
Sharp pains and Grief to recompense,
What happy or exalted State,
But is o're ballanc'd by Ill Fate?
Would not you rather ask in Prayer,
To be some Petty Country Mayor:
There domineer, and when your Pleasur's,
Condemn light weights, & break false measures.
Though meanly clad in safe estate
Then choose Sejanus Robes and Fate.
Sejanus then we must conclude
Courting his Bane, mistook the Good.
For he who from a mean estate
Vast Honours did accumulate,
And endless Riches, which enable
To build his Fortune high as Babel,
And brav'd the World; by weight too large
Did th' high pil'd Storyes overcharge:
Whence shockt with storms the reeling weight
The owner did precipitate,
And Signaliz'd Ambitions Fate.
Be Favourite and Prime-Minister,
As was Sejanus? Stand possest
Of Honours, Power and Interest;
Dispose supream Commands at will,
Promote, disgrace, preserve, or kill:
Be guardian to a careless King
Who in all pleasures takes his swing:
19
With Pimps, Buffoones, and Fortune-Tellers.
Have Foot and Horse-Guards, the Command
Of Armys both by Sea and Land.
Why not? Though Good-men would not kill,
Yet in their pow'r they'd have it still:
What Pleasure can so tickle sense;
Sharp pains and Grief to recompense,
What happy or exalted State,
But is o're ballanc'd by Ill Fate?
Would not you rather ask in Prayer,
To be some Petty Country Mayor:
There domineer, and when your Pleasur's,
Condemn light weights, & break false measures.
20
Then choose Sejanus Robes and Fate.
Sejanus then we must conclude
Courting his Bane, mistook the Good.
For he who from a mean estate
Vast Honours did accumulate,
And endless Riches, which enable
To build his Fortune high as Babel,
And brav'd the World; by weight too large
Did th' high pil'd Storyes overcharge:
Whence shockt with storms the reeling weight
The owner did precipitate,
And Signaliz'd Ambitions Fate.
21
Crassus and Pompeys fate of old
The truth of this sure Maxime told:
And his who first bow'd Romes Stiff neck,
And made the World obey his beck,
By Subtil ways and arts aspir'd
And Sov'reign sway at length accquir'd;
While the Malignant Heavens decreed,
His own desires should make him bleed;
Tyrants with some untimely end
To Proserpines black Court descend.
The truth of this sure Maxime told:
And his who first bow'd Romes Stiff neck,
And made the World obey his beck,
By Subtil ways and arts aspir'd
And Sov'reign sway at length accquir'd;
While the Malignant Heavens decreed,
His own desires should make him bleed;
Tyrants with some untimely end
To Proserpines black Court descend.
The Novice in his Accidence,
Dares pray his Wit and Eloquence
May Rival Roman Cicero's fame
And Greek Demosthenes high name.
Yet to both these, their swelling vein
Of wit and fancy prov'd their bane;
The Fatal cause that Forfeited,
The Ciceronian hands and head.
No pleading dunce's jobber noule,
Revenge e're doom'd should grace a Pole.
O happy Romes secure Estate,
Where I was fortunate innate;
Had happily his Genius chose
To've writ such inoffensive prose;
His harmless blunt stupidity
Might Antonys Revenge defy;
'Tis safer senseless verse to write,
Than in Philippicks keenly bite.
A violent and sullen fate
Did on th' admir'd Athenian wait;
Whose manage Mobile's had guided
As with a rein where e're he sided.
Yet born under unlucky Stars
Sqinting untoward and perverse,
Was sent by's swarthy blear-ey'd Sire
Betimes from sooty forge and fire,
From making swords and martial tools,
To hammer Arguments in Schools.
Dares pray his Wit and Eloquence
May Rival Roman Cicero's fame
And Greek Demosthenes high name.
22
Of wit and fancy prov'd their bane;
The Fatal cause that Forfeited,
The Ciceronian hands and head.
No pleading dunce's jobber noule,
Revenge e're doom'd should grace a Pole.
O happy Romes secure Estate,
Where I was fortunate innate;
Had happily his Genius chose
To've writ such inoffensive prose;
His harmless blunt stupidity
Might Antonys Revenge defy;
'Tis safer senseless verse to write,
Than in Philippicks keenly bite.
23
Did on th' admir'd Athenian wait;
Whose manage Mobile's had guided
As with a rein where e're he sided.
Yet born under unlucky Stars
Sqinting untoward and perverse,
Was sent by's swarthy blear-ey'd Sire
Betimes from sooty forge and fire,
From making swords and martial tools,
To hammer Arguments in Schools.
The Trophies which the vanquish'd field
Do to the glorious Victors yield,
Triumphant Conquerours can bless
With more than humane happiness.
This Roman, Grecian, and Barbarian,
Spurr'd to acts hazardous and daring,
In sweat and blood, spending their dayes
For empty Fame, and fadeing Bayes.
'Tis the immoderate thirst of Fame
Much more than Vertue does inflame:
Which none for worse or better take
But for her dower and trappings sake.
The fond Ambition of a few
Many vast Empires overthrew;
While their Atchievements with their dust
They vainly to their Tombstones trust.
For sepulchres like bodyes ly
Swallow'd in Deaths obscurity.
Do to the glorious Victors yield,
Triumphant Conquerours can bless
With more than humane happiness.
24
Spurr'd to acts hazardous and daring,
In sweat and blood, spending their dayes
For empty Fame, and fadeing Bayes.
'Tis the immoderate thirst of Fame
Much more than Vertue does inflame:
Which none for worse or better take
But for her dower and trappings sake.
The fond Ambition of a few
Many vast Empires overthrew;
While their Atchievements with their dust
They vainly to their Tombstones trust.
For sepulchres like bodyes ly
Swallow'd in Deaths obscurity.
25
Behold how small an Urn contains
The mighty Hannibals Remains.
Yet this was he whose swelling mind
To Affrick could not be confin'd;
Though meas'ring that large tract of Land
From Tangier to Niles reaking sand:
Thence southwards to Cape Bon 'Sperance
Negroes and lofty Elephants:
Whence wafting o're the Mid-land Main,
He conquers and possesses Spain:
Restless in his ambitious mind,
Italian Conquests are design'd.
Strong Bars wise Nature did oppose
The Alps thatcht with eternal Snows:
His way not craggy Mountain blocks,
With Vinegar he eats through rocks:
Impediments by Nature cast
By art or labour are o're past,
To Italy he comes at last;
Where after Towns and Battles won
He crys, Comrades, there's nothing done,
Unless our Conqu'ring Punick Powers
Brake down Romes Gates, level her Towers,
Root up her Posts, and brake her chains,
And knock out all Opposers Brains:
Whilst our Troops scowr the City thorough
And fix our Standard in Saburra.
Oh had you then his Figure seen,
With what a rueful Phis and meine,
The Rhod'montado Captain spoke,
Doubtless your laughter 'twould provoke!
Some pencil now to paint the form
Of this grum bulk of Huff and Storm;
While Swarthy, meager, and one-ey'd,
He does his Africk Monster ride.
But what Catastrophy of Fate,
Does on our famous Leader wait!
His Conduct's baffled, Army's broke,
Carthage puts on the Roman Yoak:
Whilst Flight and Banishment's his Fate,
His ruin'd Countryes Scorn and Hate:
At the Bythinian Tyrants Gate,
The reform'd Fugitive must wait:
And there for audience suppliant sit,
Till the Kings Levè will admit.
Neither the sword, nor spear, nor dart,
Could reach that wise undaunted heart,
And decently dispatch that Soul
That did the Universe controul:
With awful Reverence his Fate
Did none but his own Orders wait:
As if decreed by Powers Divine,
His Ring should his own Pasport sign;
That Ring that must avenge the guilt
Of Seas of Blood at Canna spilt.
No other means was found for Rome
To be secure from fears to come,
But poor abandon'd Annibal
A weak old Sacrifice must fall.
Go Mad-man, act thy frantick part,
Climb horrid Alps, with pains and art,
To be with mighty reputation
The subject of a Declamation.
The mighty Hannibals Remains.
Yet this was he whose swelling mind
To Affrick could not be confin'd;
Though meas'ring that large tract of Land
From Tangier to Niles reaking sand:
Thence southwards to Cape Bon 'Sperance
Negroes and lofty Elephants:
Whence wafting o're the Mid-land Main,
He conquers and possesses Spain:
Restless in his ambitious mind,
Italian Conquests are design'd.
Strong Bars wise Nature did oppose
The Alps thatcht with eternal Snows:
26
With Vinegar he eats through rocks:
Impediments by Nature cast
By art or labour are o're past,
To Italy he comes at last;
Where after Towns and Battles won
He crys, Comrades, there's nothing done,
Unless our Conqu'ring Punick Powers
Brake down Romes Gates, level her Towers,
Root up her Posts, and brake her chains,
And knock out all Opposers Brains:
Whilst our Troops scowr the City thorough
And fix our Standard in Saburra.
27
With what a rueful Phis and meine,
The Rhod'montado Captain spoke,
Doubtless your laughter 'twould provoke!
Some pencil now to paint the form
Of this grum bulk of Huff and Storm;
While Swarthy, meager, and one-ey'd,
He does his Africk Monster ride.
But what Catastrophy of Fate,
Does on our famous Leader wait!
His Conduct's baffled, Army's broke,
Carthage puts on the Roman Yoak:
Whilst Flight and Banishment's his Fate,
His ruin'd Countryes Scorn and Hate:
28
The reform'd Fugitive must wait:
And there for audience suppliant sit,
Till the Kings Levè will admit.
Neither the sword, nor spear, nor dart,
Could reach that wise undaunted heart,
And decently dispatch that Soul
That did the Universe controul:
With awful Reverence his Fate
Did none but his own Orders wait:
As if decreed by Powers Divine,
His Ring should his own Pasport sign;
That Ring that must avenge the guilt
Of Seas of Blood at Canna spilt.
29
To be secure from fears to come,
But poor abandon'd Annibal
A weak old Sacrifice must fall.
Go Mad-man, act thy frantick part,
Climb horrid Alps, with pains and art,
To be with mighty reputation
The subject of a Declamation.
One World's too mean a trifling thing
For the Young Macedonian King,
He raves like one in Banishment
In narrow craggy Island pent:
In one poor Globe does sweat and squeeze,
Wedg'd in and crampt in Little-Ease.
But he who humane race once scorn'd,
Gave out high Jove King Phillip horn'd,
While manag'd Oracles declare
The Spark, great Amnons Son and Heir;
At Babylon for all his huffing,
Finds ample room in narrow Coffin.
Man swells with bombast of inventions:
When strip'd Death shews his true dimensions.
For the Young Macedonian King,
He raves like one in Banishment
In narrow craggy Island pent:
In one poor Globe does sweat and squeeze,
Wedg'd in and crampt in Little-Ease.
30
Gave out high Jove King Phillip horn'd,
While manag'd Oracles declare
The Spark, great Amnons Son and Heir;
At Babylon for all his huffing,
Finds ample room in narrow Coffin.
Man swells with bombast of inventions:
When strip'd Death shews his true dimensions.
We will believe wild Xerxes rent
Mount Athos from the Continent,
And in a frolick made a shift
To set it in the sea a drift:
What e're Romancing Greek dares tell,
Greece, that for Cracking bears the Bell:
With ships pav'd o're the Hellespont,
And built a floating bridge upon't:
Drove Chariots o're by this device,
As lately Coaches on the Ice.
He led so numberless a Rout,
As at one Meal drank Rivers out.
The Kings-Health scarce could go about:
With many like amazing Feats
Sostratus Giddy Muse repeats,
With damp wing in her drunken heats.
This Tyrant we in storys find
was us'd to whip and Flogge the winde,
Their Jayler Æolus in Prison,
Ne're firk'd them with so little reason:
Nor could blew Neptunes Godhead save him,
But he with Fetters must enslave him.
'Twas well he scap'd his fury so,
And was not whip'd and branded too.
He must be a Complaisant God,
Will budg at such a Bedlam's nodd.
But after all these Roaring freaks,
Routed and broak he homewards sneaks;
Abandons all to'th Conqu'ring Greeks,
And Ferry's o're in Fisher-boat,
Through Shoals of Carcasses afloat;
His hopes all Vanisht, bilk'd of all
His gaudy dreams, see Prides just fall.
Mount Athos from the Continent,
And in a frolick made a shift
To set it in the sea a drift:
What e're Romancing Greek dares tell,
Greece, that for Cracking bears the Bell:
31
And built a floating bridge upon't:
Drove Chariots o're by this device,
As lately Coaches on the Ice.
He led so numberless a Rout,
As at one Meal drank Rivers out.
The Kings-Health scarce could go about:
With many like amazing Feats
Sostratus Giddy Muse repeats,
With damp wing in her drunken heats.
This Tyrant we in storys find
was us'd to whip and Flogge the winde,
Their Jayler Æolus in Prison,
Ne're firk'd them with so little reason:
32
But he with Fetters must enslave him.
'Twas well he scap'd his fury so,
And was not whip'd and branded too.
He must be a Complaisant God,
Will budg at such a Bedlam's nodd.
But after all these Roaring freaks,
Routed and broak he homewards sneaks;
Abandons all to'th Conqu'ring Greeks,
And Ferry's o're in Fisher-boat,
Through Shoals of Carcasses afloat;
His hopes all Vanisht, bilk'd of all
His gaudy dreams, see Prides just fall.
The frequent Subject of our prayers,
Is length of life, and many years.
We boldly urge these fair Petitions
In health & sickness; all conditions:
But what incessant plagues and ills
The Gulf of Age with mischief fills?
Where meeting tides of sorrows flow
As Rivers in the Ocean do.
Ugly deform'd the frightful Elves
Detested grow, unlike themselves.
Instead of skin, on their out-side
A wither'd and discolour'd hide;
They with long Nayles, like tallons claw
Their rivell'd toothless lanthorn jaw:
As a lean mumping Grandam Ape
Her hollow wrinkled chops doth scrape,
Bright glorious Youth inchants our sight
With various objects of delight;
This a more handsome face can show
Than that tall graceful well-shap'd Beau:
In song and dance this spark is rare,
He Fences, Rides, Vaults, flings the Bar.
No diffr'ing forms our fancy strike,
In extream age, they're all alike;
Weak trembling voice, their hair all shed
Off from their paralitick head.
Th' old Dotard to new Childhood comes,
A dripping Nose, and toothless Gums:
While his loath'd painful Dreggs of Life
Nauseat his Children and his Wife;
So loath'd, makes ev'n the Stomack rise
Of Rogues, who fawn for Legacies.
Their Pallat's gon, nor Wine, nor Meat,
Can please their no Tast when they eat.
Nor Beauty moves, nor Cupids dart:
Forgetfulness has seiz'd that part.
Long since he there has been bewitcht,
'Tis a longe Age since last he itcht.
Obsequious hand cannot excite
The bafled Craven to the fight;
From hoary loynes, and sapless trunk,
In vain strives the industrious punk
To raise the nerve quite num'd and shrunk.
In Limberhams, if Will survive,
The impotents new ways contrive:
Having exhausted Natures Source
To filthy arts will have recourse.
His Hearing next is lost, what joys
Can he receive from Minstril Boys:
Once in their Golden Liv'rys, lac'd,
Before retrenchment had uncas'd:
What boots a Lesson on the flute,
Or if La' Tou'r should touch his Lute.
If he would pass his time at th' Opera,
'Tis all to him an idle Foppery;
Since plac'd either remote or near,
No Actors voice can reach his ear.
He scarcely hears the neighbr'ng noyse,
Of Cornets, Trumpets, or Ho-boyes.
His servant in his ear must hollow
Who visits, or what hour does follow.
Through his chill veins, no pulse does beat
Lifes march; them only Feavers heat;
All Maladies unite their force,
Besieging round his rotten course.
And should I strive of each disease,
To give the names and qualities.
I'de sooner muster all the kept
Stallions have cast Aurelia lept:
Reckon those Quacks last Autum kild;
And graves by Lousy-Tunbridge fill'd.
What fellow Subjects were for Gold,
As Slaves, by needy Vice-Roy sold.
Each heir by dice, drink, whores, or masking
Or Stistead brought unto the Naskin;
Or Gallants Back in am'rous play,
Mall Hinton dreyn'd dry in a day:
Count every School boy, name each Child
By Chickin-treading Pedant spoyl'd.
Survey each Lordly Seat and Mannour
Possest by valet Pimp of Honour.
For Pains in back and knees this cryes;
This mourns the loss of both his eyes;
Envyes the pur-blind; with pale lips,
From others fingers feeds and sipps:
With mouth wide ope like barrel bung,
Or gapeing bill of swallows young;
To whom the hungry Old-one brings
The hunted prey with Joyful wings.
Is length of life, and many years.
33
In health & sickness; all conditions:
But what incessant plagues and ills
The Gulf of Age with mischief fills?
Where meeting tides of sorrows flow
As Rivers in the Ocean do.
Ugly deform'd the frightful Elves
Detested grow, unlike themselves.
Instead of skin, on their out-side
A wither'd and discolour'd hide;
They with long Nayles, like tallons claw
Their rivell'd toothless lanthorn jaw:
As a lean mumping Grandam Ape
Her hollow wrinkled chops doth scrape,
34
With various objects of delight;
This a more handsome face can show
Than that tall graceful well-shap'd Beau:
In song and dance this spark is rare,
He Fences, Rides, Vaults, flings the Bar.
No diffr'ing forms our fancy strike,
In extream age, they're all alike;
Weak trembling voice, their hair all shed
Off from their paralitick head.
Th' old Dotard to new Childhood comes,
A dripping Nose, and toothless Gums:
While his loath'd painful Dreggs of Life
Nauseat his Children and his Wife;
35
Of Rogues, who fawn for Legacies.
Their Pallat's gon, nor Wine, nor Meat,
Can please their no Tast when they eat.
Nor Beauty moves, nor Cupids dart:
Forgetfulness has seiz'd that part.
Long since he there has been bewitcht,
'Tis a longe Age since last he itcht.
Obsequious hand cannot excite
The bafled Craven to the fight;
From hoary loynes, and sapless trunk,
In vain strives the industrious punk
To raise the nerve quite num'd and shrunk.
36
The impotents new ways contrive:
Having exhausted Natures Source
To filthy arts will have recourse.
His Hearing next is lost, what joys
Can he receive from Minstril Boys:
Once in their Golden Liv'rys, lac'd,
Before retrenchment had uncas'd:
What boots a Lesson on the flute,
Or if La' Tou'r should touch his Lute.
If he would pass his time at th' Opera,
'Tis all to him an idle Foppery;
Since plac'd either remote or near,
No Actors voice can reach his ear.
37
Of Cornets, Trumpets, or Ho-boyes.
His servant in his ear must hollow
Who visits, or what hour does follow.
Through his chill veins, no pulse does beat
Lifes march; them only Feavers heat;
All Maladies unite their force,
Besieging round his rotten course.
And should I strive of each disease,
To give the names and qualities.
I'de sooner muster all the kept
Stallions have cast Aurelia lept:
Reckon those Quacks last Autum kild;
And graves by Lousy-Tunbridge fill'd.
38
As Slaves, by needy Vice-Roy sold.
Each heir by dice, drink, whores, or masking
Or Stistead brought unto the Naskin;
Or Gallants Back in am'rous play,
Mall Hinton dreyn'd dry in a day:
Count every School boy, name each Child
By Chickin-treading Pedant spoyl'd.
Survey each Lordly Seat and Mannour
Possest by valet Pimp of Honour.
For Pains in back and knees this cryes;
This mourns the loss of both his eyes;
Envyes the pur-blind; with pale lips,
From others fingers feeds and sipps:
39
Or gapeing bill of swallows young;
To whom the hungry Old-one brings
The hunted prey with Joyful wings.
But the num'd brains stupidity,
Does all the members loss out-vy:
When th' Organs of the mind shall leave,
To do their Office, and bereave
Of Memory, then they forego,
The knowledge both of friend and foe;
Forget their Ancient Servants quite,
And friends with whom they supp'd last night;
Their Children they no longer know;
And by unnat'ral Will bestow
Their goods, on their lewd Cockatrice,
Whose Mouth's the very sink of Vice:
So much it's artifice prevails,
Above all Charms of wanton Tailes.
Who many years at Whetstone ply'd,
Morefields and other Stews beside;
At Brothel doors stood wheedling in
Unwary Woodcocks to the Gin;
Does all the members loss out-vy:
When th' Organs of the mind shall leave,
To do their Office, and bereave
Of Memory, then they forego,
The knowledge both of friend and foe;
Forget their Ancient Servants quite,
And friends with whom they supp'd last night;
Their Children they no longer know;
And by unnat'ral Will bestow
40
Whose Mouth's the very sink of Vice:
So much it's artifice prevails,
Above all Charms of wanton Tailes.
Who many years at Whetstone ply'd,
Morefields and other Stews beside;
At Brothel doors stood wheedling in
Unwary Woodcocks to the Gin;
If the Minds faculties continue
Firm, and in age still vigorous in you,
What troubles must afflict your thoughts,
While your lov'd children crowd Church-vaults
Ush'red by you, Wives, Brothers, come
To Natures dark retiring room.
Nor can your care or sorrow save
Your belov'd Sisters from the Grave.
These are the Comforts always wait
On those who long defer their Fate.
Still the fresh slaughter of their House
Malitiously their grief renews:
While cruel providence decreed
They must grow old in mourning weed.
Death Nature's debt, where long delay'd
With cruel Usury is paid.
Firm, and in age still vigorous in you,
What troubles must afflict your thoughts,
While your lov'd children crowd Church-vaults
Ush'red by you, Wives, Brothers, come
To Natures dark retiring room.
41
Your belov'd Sisters from the Grave.
These are the Comforts always wait
On those who long defer their Fate.
Still the fresh slaughter of their House
Malitiously their grief renews:
While cruel providence decreed
They must grow old in mourning weed.
Death Nature's debt, where long delay'd
With cruel Usury is paid.
King Nestor, Homers Records show
In length of life, came next the Crow,
Wore out more lives, as story's told,
Than Cat, Intayl, or Copy-hold.
His happy years were justly wondred,
That had surviv'd above three hundred.
Bore Winters Frosts, and Summers thirst,
As oft drank wine upon the must.
See in what melancholly strains,
Of the three Sisters he complains;
Why they should spin his Thread so tough
Of cursed everlasting stuff:
Harsh Laws! when the surviving Sire
Waits bearded Son to fun'ral fire.
In rage expostulates why he
Survives to so much misery:
And for what Sin of his, the Hate
Of Heavens Decrees such lingring Fate:
So Peleus for Achilles cry'd,
Snatch'd in the Temple from his Bride,
Death in the nick the Banes deny'd:
Ulysses aged Sire did moan
The ten years ramble of his Son:
Priam had dy'd a happy shade
E're Troy had been in rubbish lay'd.
His mournful Rites with Pomp and State,
Perform'd by peaceful Magistrate;
His Corps born up by Hectors shoulder,
(Than whom, no Mortal e're was bolder)
And's fifty Sons, tall Bully-Rocks,
As ever sprung from Kingly Stocks.
E're Fair Cassandra Fate fore-knowing
Bewayl'd sack'd Troy, with eyes o're-flowing;
Had he been dead as any Herring,
E're Paris went a privateering;
For Whores and Plunder play'd lend Tricks,
Which to the Gutts provok'd the Greeks.
Who Clubbing in Revenge o're-turn'd
Their State, and Pyrat-City burn'd:
At last the trembling King throw's by
His Turbant, and to's arms does fly;
Buckles on's harness, and invirons
His weak limbs with unweildy irons.
And at Joves Shrine resignes his life,
As an old Ox under the Knife.
His weak-worn useless neck does bow,
Casheir'd from the ungrateful Plow.
His griefs how er'e a period found,
And in deaths deep abyss were drown'd.
The Gods to his grim snarling wife,
Prolong'd indignities with life.
Chang'd and deform'd to such a pitch,
Through rage, she dy'd, a barking bitch.
In length of life, came next the Crow,
Wore out more lives, as story's told,
Than Cat, Intayl, or Copy-hold.
His happy years were justly wondred,
That had surviv'd above three hundred.
42
As oft drank wine upon the must.
See in what melancholly strains,
Of the three Sisters he complains;
Why they should spin his Thread so tough
Of cursed everlasting stuff:
Harsh Laws! when the surviving Sire
Waits bearded Son to fun'ral fire.
In rage expostulates why he
Survives to so much misery:
And for what Sin of his, the Hate
Of Heavens Decrees such lingring Fate:
So Peleus for Achilles cry'd,
Snatch'd in the Temple from his Bride,
Death in the nick the Banes deny'd:
43
The ten years ramble of his Son:
Priam had dy'd a happy shade
E're Troy had been in rubbish lay'd.
His mournful Rites with Pomp and State,
Perform'd by peaceful Magistrate;
His Corps born up by Hectors shoulder,
(Than whom, no Mortal e're was bolder)
And's fifty Sons, tall Bully-Rocks,
As ever sprung from Kingly Stocks.
E're Fair Cassandra Fate fore-knowing
Bewayl'd sack'd Troy, with eyes o're-flowing;
Had he been dead as any Herring,
E're Paris went a privateering;
44
Which to the Gutts provok'd the Greeks.
Who Clubbing in Revenge o're-turn'd
Their State, and Pyrat-City burn'd:
At last the trembling King throw's by
His Turbant, and to's arms does fly;
Buckles on's harness, and invirons
His weak limbs with unweildy irons.
And at Joves Shrine resignes his life,
As an old Ox under the Knife.
His weak-worn useless neck does bow,
Casheir'd from the ungrateful Plow.
His griefs how er'e a period found,
And in deaths deep abyss were drown'd.
45
Prolong'd indignities with life.
Chang'd and deform'd to such a pitch,
Through rage, she dy'd, a barking bitch.
Why should we for Examples roam
Abroad, when choice are found at home?
The Pontick King I will omit,
And Cræsus taught by Solons wit.
We can pronounce none happy, none,
Till the last Sand of life be run.
None justly we good Actors call,
In lifes farce, till deaths Curtains fall.
Marius long-life was th' only reason,
Of Exile and Minturnian Prison.
Made him beg bread for his relief,
In Carthage where he once was chief.
Nature did ne'r produce of old,
Or Rome a happier man behold.
Then Marius was, when he victorious,
Procession made in Chariot glorious;
With Trophys and attending spoyles,
And Captives chain'd in ranks and files.
Had Death snatch'd his Tryumphing Spirit,
That day, none e're had match'd his merit.
Kind Fate, designing to befriend
Great Pompey, did a Feaver send,
That should with favourable doom,
Prevent his miseries to come.
Whole Nations for his danger griev'd;
Their publick prayers obtain, Repriev'd.
Fate then that honour'd head did save,
Which she t' insulting Cæsar gave.
Slow Lentulus ne're underwent,
For Treason such a Punishment:
Nor Rash Cethegus, Cataline
A Corps intire in Arms did Shine.
Abroad, when choice are found at home?
The Pontick King I will omit,
And Cræsus taught by Solons wit.
We can pronounce none happy, none,
Till the last Sand of life be run.
None justly we good Actors call,
In lifes farce, till deaths Curtains fall.
Marius long-life was th' only reason,
Of Exile and Minturnian Prison.
46
In Carthage where he once was chief.
Nature did ne'r produce of old,
Or Rome a happier man behold.
Then Marius was, when he victorious,
Procession made in Chariot glorious;
With Trophys and attending spoyles,
And Captives chain'd in ranks and files.
Had Death snatch'd his Tryumphing Spirit,
That day, none e're had match'd his merit.
Kind Fate, designing to befriend
Great Pompey, did a Feaver send,
That should with favourable doom,
Prevent his miseries to come.
47
Their publick prayers obtain, Repriev'd.
Fate then that honour'd head did save,
Which she t' insulting Cæsar gave.
Slow Lentulus ne're underwent,
For Treason such a Punishment:
Nor Rash Cethegus, Cataline
A Corps intire in Arms did Shine.
'Tis the fond Mothers constant prayer
Her Children may be passing Fair.
Excelling far all other faces,
In beauty and rare Charming graces.
Which Boon they beg with sighs and groans,
Incessantly on Marrow-bones.
Who justly blames a Mothers joy,
That huggs her wanton well-hung-boy.
Or if for joy Latona cry,
To see her pretty daughter Dy:
Yet bright Lucretias sullen fate,
Shews fair-ones are not fortunate.
Virginia's chance may well confute you;
Good luck don't always wait on beauty:
Th' unhappy Fair's in worse estate,
Than a Crump rich and fortunate.
Concern for handsome boys does make,
Ill-boading Parents hearts to ake.
Still dreading mischiefs when they see,
Few fair ones fam'd for Chastity.
Beauty and Virtue often jarr,
Joyn'd in one Person seldom are;
Though bred in honest Country Cell,
Where no debauch'd Examples dwell;
Whence Lust is banish't, Vertue sways,
As in Queen Dick's plain honest days.
Though Nature's bounteous hand should plant
All Graces that can make a Saint;
And in one modest Cheek unite
The blushing Red Rose with the White;
What ever Nature can impart,
Nature more prevalent than Art;
Yet Vice will try her utmost Power,
And Court them in a golden Shower:
To kidd-nap Youth will lye in wait,
And snap it er'e at Mans Estate.
So to corrupting bribes they'le trust,
They'le Parents tempt for bawds to lust:
No Tyrant will the ill-shap'd chuse
For Guardian Eunuchs for their Stews.
Or on a Youth deform'd will pitch,
To cure his Sodomitick itch.
Go now applaud thy fair Sons Fate,
For whom perhaps worse dangers wait.
Let him turn Stallion to the Town,
And dread each hair-brain'd Husband's frown.
And undergo for punishment,
What inrag'd Cuckolds can invent.
Ne're let him think by Wit or Care
Still luckily to scape the snare:
Surpriz'd, undone, Trapann'd, beset,
He'le fall like Mars into the Net.
Then shall revenge quit his old Scores,
And pay him home for past Amours:
They'le slit his Nose, or Crop his Ears,
And whip off Gun and Bandileers:
Dispatch with Poyson, Steel, or Bullet,
Or Fundament plugg'd with a Mullet.
Her Children may be passing Fair.
Excelling far all other faces,
In beauty and rare Charming graces.
Which Boon they beg with sighs and groans,
Incessantly on Marrow-bones.
48
That huggs her wanton well-hung-boy.
Or if for joy Latona cry,
To see her pretty daughter Dy:
Yet bright Lucretias sullen fate,
Shews fair-ones are not fortunate.
Virginia's chance may well confute you;
Good luck don't always wait on beauty:
Th' unhappy Fair's in worse estate,
Than a Crump rich and fortunate.
Concern for handsome boys does make,
Ill-boading Parents hearts to ake.
Still dreading mischiefs when they see,
Few fair ones fam'd for Chastity.
49
Joyn'd in one Person seldom are;
Though bred in honest Country Cell,
Where no debauch'd Examples dwell;
Whence Lust is banish't, Vertue sways,
As in Queen Dick's plain honest days.
Though Nature's bounteous hand should plant
All Graces that can make a Saint;
And in one modest Cheek unite
The blushing Red Rose with the White;
What ever Nature can impart,
Nature more prevalent than Art;
Yet Vice will try her utmost Power,
And Court them in a golden Shower:
50
And snap it er'e at Mans Estate.
So to corrupting bribes they'le trust,
They'le Parents tempt for bawds to lust:
No Tyrant will the ill-shap'd chuse
For Guardian Eunuchs for their Stews.
Or on a Youth deform'd will pitch,
To cure his Sodomitick itch.
Go now applaud thy fair Sons Fate,
For whom perhaps worse dangers wait.
Let him turn Stallion to the Town,
And dread each hair-brain'd Husband's frown.
And undergo for punishment,
What inrag'd Cuckolds can invent.
51
Still luckily to scape the snare:
Surpriz'd, undone, Trapann'd, beset,
He'le fall like Mars into the Net.
Then shall revenge quit his old Scores,
And pay him home for past Amours:
They'le slit his Nose, or Crop his Ears,
And whip off Gun and Bandileers:
Dispatch with Poyson, Steel, or Bullet,
Or Fundament plugg'd with a Mullet.
But thy Endimion shall inflame
None but some choice fair wealthy Dame,
By whom, profusely cram'd with coin,
His peerless Pomp shall all out-shine.
But when through vain Expence, or Play,
His hoarded Bank shall melt away;
He for recruit, must let to hire
His Hackney Back, to the desire
Of some old filthy Hagg for coyn,
And sell the labour of his Chine;
Then he must strip and buckle to't,
Or from loath'd Task must reap no fruit.
Whither by Nature free or base;
No Buttock's hide-bound in this case:
Or will be nigardly and grudge
A lib'ral sal'ry to her drudge.
And if he 'scape these threatning Rocks,
He'le surely shipwrack on the Pox:
Ere throughly ripe he'l rot away,
Like early fruits that soon decay:
His small remaining stock he trucks,
With Quack for dyet-drink and Flux;
In which his Nose and Pallat fall,
Rots peice-meal, noysome grown to all;
Ends his loath'd life in Hospitall.
None but some choice fair wealthy Dame,
By whom, profusely cram'd with coin,
His peerless Pomp shall all out-shine.
52
His hoarded Bank shall melt away;
He for recruit, must let to hire
His Hackney Back, to the desire
Of some old filthy Hagg for coyn,
And sell the labour of his Chine;
Then he must strip and buckle to't,
Or from loath'd Task must reap no fruit.
Whither by Nature free or base;
No Buttock's hide-bound in this case:
Or will be nigardly and grudge
A lib'ral sal'ry to her drudge.
And if he 'scape these threatning Rocks,
He'le surely shipwrack on the Pox:
53
Like early fruits that soon decay:
His small remaining stock he trucks,
With Quack for dyet-drink and Flux;
In which his Nose and Pallat fall,
Rots peice-meal, noysome grown to all;
Ends his loath'd life in Hospitall.
What harm will honest Beauty do,
He may prove Chast, and handsome too.
What did his rigid Vertue boot,
That baulk'd his Step-dames lustful suite:
What did Bellerephon betyde,
When he returns of love deny'd?
In both their Queans Revenge did Reign,
Rows'd by repulse of Cold Disdain.
Then Women rage with cruel'st spite
When shame their hatred does excite:
When trifling Lovers seasons lose,
And kind advances do refuse:
From loath'd Contempt of profer'd love
Their Breasts with furious transports move.
He may prove Chast, and handsome too.
What did his rigid Vertue boot,
That baulk'd his Step-dames lustful suite:
What did Bellerephon betyde,
When he returns of love deny'd?
In both their Queans Revenge did Reign,
Rows'd by repulse of Cold Disdain.
54
When shame their hatred does excite:
When trifling Lovers seasons lose,
And kind advances do refuse:
From loath'd Contempt of profer'd love
Their Breasts with furious transports move.
Call Council quickly to advise,
Our present Case proves very nice:
Here's Cæsars Wife resolv'd to marry,
Nor for the Emperours Death will tarry.
She has design'd with lustful Eyes
The Noble Youth her Sacrifice.
The Priest and honour'd Guests invites
To witness Matrimonial Rites.
The Portion's told, the Genial Bed
With Pomp is in the Garden spread:
Does with Capricious fancy burn;
Marriage can only serve her turn:
With which, if he will not comply
He tempts his present destiny:
What shall he do? obedience give,
And that may gain a short reprieve:
Till all the Town the Story hears;
At last 'twill reach the Prince's ears.
There's hopes in that, for the disgrace
The Cuckold learns in the last place:
Then to her Will obedience pay;
Your Fate may thence admit delay,
If at the rate of such a Wife
you'l purchase a short slavish life.
Both ways his certain Fate's decreed
The wretched lovely Youth must bleed.
Our present Case proves very nice:
Here's Cæsars Wife resolv'd to marry,
Nor for the Emperours Death will tarry.
She has design'd with lustful Eyes
The Noble Youth her Sacrifice.
The Priest and honour'd Guests invites
To witness Matrimonial Rites.
55
With Pomp is in the Garden spread:
Does with Capricious fancy burn;
Marriage can only serve her turn:
With which, if he will not comply
He tempts his present destiny:
What shall he do? obedience give,
And that may gain a short reprieve:
Till all the Town the Story hears;
At last 'twill reach the Prince's ears.
There's hopes in that, for the disgrace
The Cuckold learns in the last place:
Then to her Will obedience pay;
Your Fate may thence admit delay,
56
you'l purchase a short slavish life.
Both ways his certain Fate's decreed
The wretched lovely Youth must bleed.
Shall men ask nothing then? be wise,
And listen well to sound advice.
Refer desires to Providence,
With thanks take what the Gods dispence.
Let not your stubborn Will repine,
What'ere they shall for you design.
They better know than human wit,
What does our Exigents befit.
Their wise all-seeing eyes discern,
And give what best suits our concern.
We blindly harmful things implore
Which they refusing, love us more.
And listen well to sound advice.
Refer desires to Providence,
With thanks take what the Gods dispence.
Let not your stubborn Will repine,
What'ere they shall for you design.
They better know than human wit,
What does our Exigents befit.
Their wise all-seeing eyes discern,
And give what best suits our concern.
57
Which they refusing, love us more.
By love and blind desires still led,
Wee're hurryed to the Marriage bed:
With hopes of issue from our Love,
But Heaven foresaw how both would prove;
Forbearing to disturb our Life,
With Bratts unnatural, and dam'd wife.
Wee're hurryed to the Marriage bed:
With hopes of issue from our Love,
But Heaven foresaw how both would prove;
Forbearing to disturb our Life,
With Bratts unnatural, and dam'd wife.
Pray then, that in a Body sound,
A Firm and Constant mind be found.
A Mind no fear of death can daunt,
Nor Exile, Prison, Paines nor Want.
That justly reckons death to be
Kind Author of our liberty,
From Flesh, a Goal-Delivery.
Banishing Passion from our Brest,
Resting Content with what's possest.
That ev'ry honest Action loves,
And Great Alcides toyles approves,
Above the Lusts, Feasts, beds of Down,
Which did Sardanapalus drown.
This, mortals to themselves may give;
Vertue's, the happy rule to live.
Chance bears no sway, where Wisdome Rules,
An empty Name, ador'd by fools.
Folly Blinde Fortune did Create
A Goddess, and to Heaven Translate.
A Firm and Constant mind be found.
A Mind no fear of death can daunt,
Nor Exile, Prison, Paines nor Want.
That justly reckons death to be
Kind Author of our liberty,
From Flesh, a Goal-Delivery.
58
Resting Content with what's possest.
That ev'ry honest Action loves,
And Great Alcides toyles approves,
Above the Lusts, Feasts, beds of Down,
Which did Sardanapalus drown.
This, mortals to themselves may give;
Vertue's, the happy rule to live.
Chance bears no sway, where Wisdome Rules,
An empty Name, ador'd by fools.
Folly Blinde Fortune did Create
A Goddess, and to Heaven Translate.
Cato his Answer to Labienus when he Requested him to Consult the Oracle of Jupiter Ammon.
[_]
Being a Translation of Part of the 9th. Book of Lucan; Begining at—
Quid quæri Labiene Jubes, &c.
What
should I Ask my Friend, if best it be
To Live Enslav'd, or thus in Arms Dy free?
If it our Real Happiness import,
Whither Life's foolish Scene be Long or Short?
If any Force true Honour can Abate,
Or Fortune's Threats make Vertue how to Fate?
If when at Noble Ends we justly aim,
The Bare Attempt Entitles us to Fame?
If a Bad Cause that Justice would oppress,
Can ever grow more Honest by Success?
All this we know, wove in our Mind it sticks,
Which Ammon nor his Priests can deeper fix.
They need not Teach with Venale Cant and Pains
That God's Inevitable Will holds ours in Chains,
Who Act but only what he Præordaines.
He needs no Voice to Thunder out his Law,
Or keep his Creatures Wild Desires in awe:
Both what we ought to do or what forbear,
He once for All did at our Births declare:
What for our Knowledge, needful was or fit
With Lasting Characters in Humane Soul he Writ.
But never did he seek out Desert Lands
To Skulk, or Bury Truth in pathless Sands:
Or to a Corner of the World withdrew
Head of a Sect, and Partial to a few.
Natures Vast Fabrick he Controuls alone;
This Globe's his Footstool, and high Heaven his Throne;
In Earth, Sea, Air, and what e're else Excels,
In Knowing Heads, and Honest Hearts he dwels.
Why vainly seek we then in Barren Sands
And narrow Shrines, in Temples Built with Hands,
HIM, whose Dread Presence does all Places fill,
Or look, but in our Reason, for his Will.
What e're we see is GOD, in all we find
Apparent Prints of his Eternal Mind.
Let Floating Fools their Course by Prophets Steer,
And live of future Chances still in Fear:
No Oracle or Dream the Crowd is told,
Shall make me more or less Resolv'd and Bold:
Death is my sure Retreat, which must on All
As well on Cowards, as on the Gallant fall.
This said, he turn'd him with Disdain about,
And left scorn'd Ammon to amuse the Rout.
To Live Enslav'd, or thus in Arms Dy free?
If it our Real Happiness import,
Whither Life's foolish Scene be Long or Short?
Or Fortune's Threats make Vertue how to Fate?
If when at Noble Ends we justly aim,
The Bare Attempt Entitles us to Fame?
If a Bad Cause that Justice would oppress,
Can ever grow more Honest by Success?
All this we know, wove in our Mind it sticks,
Which Ammon nor his Priests can deeper fix.
They need not Teach with Venale Cant and Pains
That God's Inevitable Will holds ours in Chains,
Who Act but only what he Præordaines.
He needs no Voice to Thunder out his Law,
Or keep his Creatures Wild Desires in awe:
Both what we ought to do or what forbear,
He once for All did at our Births declare:
What for our Knowledge, needful was or fit
With Lasting Characters in Humane Soul he Writ.
But never did he seek out Desert Lands
To Skulk, or Bury Truth in pathless Sands:
Or to a Corner of the World withdrew
Head of a Sect, and Partial to a few.
Natures Vast Fabrick he Controuls alone;
This Globe's his Footstool, and high Heaven his Throne;
In Earth, Sea, Air, and what e're else Excels,
In Knowing Heads, and Honest Hearts he dwels.
Why vainly seek we then in Barren Sands
And narrow Shrines, in Temples Built with Hands,
HIM, whose Dread Presence does all Places fill,
Or look, but in our Reason, for his Will.
What e're we see is GOD, in all we find
Apparent Prints of his Eternal Mind.
Let Floating Fools their Course by Prophets Steer,
And live of future Chances still in Fear:
No Oracle or Dream the Crowd is told,
Shall make me more or less Resolv'd and Bold:
Death is my sure Retreat, which must on All
As well on Cowards, as on the Gallant fall.
This said, he turn'd him with Disdain about,
And left scorn'd Ammon to amuse the Rout.
FINIS.
| A Modern Essay on the Tenth Satyr of Juvenal | |