Horace His arte of Poetrie, Epistles, and Satyrs Englished ::

A DERISION OF CHIDING and brawling. The strife is betwixte Rupilius kyng of Preneste, and one Persius: a wonderfull vndecente thyng, for a noble man to be a scoulder.

The fellone tongue of Rupilie,
that traytor mungrill kyng,
How Persius hath dreste in kynde,
it is no nouell thyng.
As common as the carts way that.
This Persie for the moste,
Did make his bode at Ginnia:
with Rupilie at hoste
With gybes, and glickes, and taunting strife
a brawler sharpe and sore

Rashe, arrogante, and by vse had
of ribaldrye suche store:
That from a dosen cacklinge drabbes,
the bell he mighte haue bore.
Well, to the kynge lyke dogge, and catte,
these two did then agree,
Lyke champions fell, their toylesum tongues
they vsde as weapons free.
For eche man seekes to noy his foe,
(the olde fayde saw doth tell,)
With prowes, and those martiall feats,
wherein he doth excell.
Twixte Priams hautie Hector, and
corragiouse Achill,
So keene and mortall was their wrathe,
that he did Hector kyll.
And for no other cause I trow,
but that, in those same twayne,
Lyke force in principallitie,
and parfytnesse did raine.
Dasterds will quickly parte them selues,
vnequall if they be,
(As Glaucus was to Diomede)
the weaker shrinketh, he
Departs in peace as recreante,
his ransom maks him free.
Lorde Brutus was lyeutenaunte, then
of Asia the lesse,
When Rupilie, and Persius,
to combat do addresse,
Lyke as two masters of the fence,
vnshethe their blades of mighte,
So these same two, tongue puisaunte knyghts,
with scoulding ginn the fyghte.
The auditorye numberouse,
the Persie onset gaue,

The people laugh, he praiseth Brute,
and his retenue braue.
Duke Brute, the sonne of Asia,
his men he cals the starres,
Balde Rupilie he rattles vp,
to combat if he darres.
He calde him hurtefull hatefull dogge,
to earthe, a greeuouse signe,

Flovvte

Lyke pleasaunte streame beset with woode,
so flowes his talke diuine.
Then Rupile let issue out,
his well ycouched wordes,
Throughseasonde, as the drubled lakes,
that keepeth aye in fordes.
So perfyt and exacte a scoulde,
that women mighte geue place,
Whose tatling tongues, had won a wispe,
to stande before theyr face.

A railers tōg insupportable, therefore not to be aunsvvered by vvordes, but repressed by rigor of the maiestrate.

The Persie see his foe so fell,
and how he did him snape,
Thoughte impossible to resiste,
ne wiste he how to scape.
Lorde Brute (quod he) my liege lord Brute,
for all the gods aboue,
Thou that arte wonte to hasserd all,
to win thy countryes loue,
To wringe the maces forth their handes,
to daunte the dukes a downe,
Be wrekde, be wrekde (thy onely prayse)
vpon this doggishe clowne.

University of Virginia Library

The seuenth satire [of Horace].