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

Vnder the Personage of the stoike Ofellus, hee controlleth the gluttonous and riottous: he shevveth the variatie of meates them selues, not to be so dilectable, as they are so made by abstinence, and sharpe appitite. He commendeth much frugalitie, which is chiefly in sparing and thryftie diete.

Howe good it is, and laudable,
to liue but with a small:
It passeth me for to discriue.
Ofellus told it all.

A rudesvie, and vnruly, wyse,
and yet vnlucky man,
Who neuer could bring to an ende,
The thinge which he began.
Learne abstinence, O learne of me
not when your paunche is full,
Or when with grosse vpflynging fumes,
Your syght is masde and dull:
Or when your luste leanes to the worst,
and wyll not brooke the beste,
Come soberly, not ouerchargde,
with intrayls all at reste.
Some thing to say: the wastefull wombe,
dothe plague and kill the brayne:
As that iudge dothe his countrey hurt,
who gapeth after gayne.
When thou doste trace the hastyng hare,
or tame the Iennet wylde,
Or fight in fielde, lyke Romayn stoute,
(vnlyke a Grekyshe chyld,)
Or when thou doest at footebal playe,
or tennice for pastyme:
Whylste loue of game doth ease thy toyle,
and helpe awaye the tyme:
Or when thou slyngest in the ayre:
with might auoyde the stone:
What so thou doste, do earnestly,
and when thy toyle is gone,
Thou shalt haue stomake quick and sharpe,
that when thou comes to dyne,
It will not loke for sweete conceites,
or fragrant friskyng wyne,
If that the rude and vgly sea,
do lette the fyshers arte,
If foode doo fayle, of breade and salte,
to take and eate thy parte

Thou wilt be glad. Why is it thus?
Howe soundeth this wyth reason?
The smell of hoate and smokyng roast,
though it be deare and geason,
Doth not delyte of it owne selfe:
thou makes the culleis good.
Thy sweate and pyne makes sweete and fyne,
and sauours all thy food.
What taste is there, yf thou beiste gordgde?
ne can it well endue,
In Lampre, or in Leueret,
or choppyn oysters newe.
Nathelesse, I can not thee perswade,
but yf they both be dreste,
The Pecocke, and the pubble hen,
the Pecocke tasteth best.
Begyled wyth apparances:
because her costly sayle
Is rare: and that a circled pryde
she beareth in her tayle.
As though that were materiall:
her feathers dost thou eate
So gaye to thee? or is she ells,
in brothe the better meate?
The fleshe of bothe is muche alike:
thou loues the pecocke tho,
Because of gallant gawyshe plumes:
well, lette it then be so.

Tuscus, a strete in Rome, nere to a creke of the sea,

The dogge fyshe, that from Tyber cums,
or streame in Tuscus streete,
Why is it worse, then that, from sea,
where wrastlynge waues doo meete?
O doting worlde, aboue the rest,
they loue the Mullet greate,
And yet doo mynce her smale and smale
before they doo her eate.

Thus may we see, the sight is all:
If sight may things excell,
Great Porposes should be in price:
na, sothly I can tell
Why they be not: this Porpose fyshe,
with vs is euery where:
A Mullet for the mincing dames,
for that is rare and dere.

Farre sought, and deare bought good for Ladyes:

The temperate will litle eate
and fede of simple chere.
Some gluttons would eate greater fishe,
to satisfye their mawes,
(Like hellishe Harpies) from a panne,
with gredie gnawing iawes.
But you, you wastfull southerne windes
corrupt their viandes all:
It endes not much: for Bore or Brytte
dost tast to them as galle.
When to much hauocke hath them cloyde,
then gyn they sore to longe
For Rapes and Helicampane roote,
and do the beggers wrong.
So kinges (to haue their courses iust)
Reiect not pore mens cates,
As egges and oyle, with such the lyke
receaude and vsde of states.
The Heraulde Gallo for a dishe
He vsde vpon a day,

The dishe was a fishe cavvled Accipēser a vvhile vsuall yea and noble, aftervvard contemptible:

Was ill rebukde. But they to blame:
for Brtttes fewe durst assay
The Brit did scope abrode in seas,
The Storke did kepe her nest,
Before paunche pampring Pretorie
told how they should be drest.
If some the rosted Cormoraunt,

Pretorie a frend to the kychin,

delytefull would report,

Oure youthe (soone taughe to naughtynesse)
would trye it for a sporte.
The couetous and sparinge man
we must not note for one,
(As Ofell sayth) if thou percase
from one sinne wouldste be gone,
And therby happe into a worse,
that were a bootlesse case.
Canis, in whome for his desert,

Canis a couetouse miser, Oulde olyues

that name may well take place,
Olde Oliues, add the dogtree fruicte,
and lees of chaunged wine,
And vyle vnpleasaunt greasye oyle,
to lothesome for a swine.
(If he did feaste his frende at home,
or kepe his natiue day,
Or solemnise the time by chaunce,

One good note of a churl to be liberal of that vvhich is naught: Demaunde:

in surely rych arraye)
Abundance of such corrup stuffe,
Mongst his, he would outlaye.
What dyet shall the wise man then,
twixt two contraries vse?
Shal he the trade of couetouse,
or prodigall refuse?
Unspotted he, that kepes him fre,
and leanes to neither syde.

Replye:

He shall not be like Albutye,
who, when he doth deuide,

Albutye

His houshold charge emongst his men
himselfe will nothing doo:

Neuye:

Nor yet like Neuie wayte at boorde,
for that is foolishe too.
Now lysten well, how great the fruictes,
of sparing diete be,
First good for healthe, for this thou muste
perswade thy selfe with me:

That many things annoyeth man,
And meates do muche offende,
Though they be pleasant, yea and good
yet, when thou doste them blende,
As fyshe with fowle, roste meates, with boylde,
to choler goes the sweete:
The moyst to fleume, for stomacke fleume
a guest is moste vnmete.
Agayne the corps chargde with excesse,
dothe ouercharge the mynde,
Abandonnyng to earthly things,
the soule of heauenly kynde.
The temperate may soone dispose
his members to their reste,
And ryse agayne delyuerly,
to labour quicke and preste.
He shall be in the better plyte,
In tyme that happen may,
As when the yeare by compaste course,
shall bryng the pagiaunt day.
Or if he take confortatiues
to helpe hym at his neede:

VVorthy frutes of temperance.

For yeares wyll come, and crasye age,
who daintily must feede.
In age or sycknesse, what shall be,
delityng vnto thee?
Who haste preuented in thy youth
suche pleasure as myght bee?
The rammyshe Bore, they wont to prayse,
not that they had no nose
To feele hym smell, but to this ende,
that he whiche dyd repose
Hym selfe with them, might egerly
fall to, and eate his meate:
Because they woulde not gluttonlyke,
theyr whole prouision eate

In those dayes, I woulde haue ben borne,
in suche an honeste tyme:
I loue well hospitalitie,
If riot cause not crime.
If thou dost stande in awe of verse,
or force a rymers reede:
Take heede, such sortes, and subtilties
of cates wyll make thee neede.
Bothe shame and harme they wyll procure,
agayne, adde to this same,
Thy kynsmen wroth, thy frends made foes
thy selfe foe to thy name.
Wyshyng for death, and shalt not dye,
but lyue to wayle and mone
Thy wanton wealth, thy beggers plight
thy treasures that be gone.

Trasie

(Saythe tauntyng Trasy) maye not I
lay out my coyne at wyll?
My rentes come to me thicke and thicke,
my want is foyson still,
Not three kynges can dispende with me,
who sayth, I may not spende?

Poet.

Therfore, the surplus of thy goodes
applye to better ende.
Why wante the silly needie soules
refreshyng at thy hande?
Why doo the temples of the gods,
without repayryng stande?
Thou corsye carle, thy countrey dere,
from hougie substance suche
Shall she haue naught: wylt onely thou
deuoure alone so muche?
O ieste, vnto thy very foes,
For, whether may haue more,
(If fortune frowne, and grefes growe on)
esperance to his store?

Thou: which was maried to thy mucke,
and freshe in gay attyre,
Or he: that dreading chaunce to cum,
a litle doth desyre,
And keepes it well, and warylye
to helpe in hopelesse tyde:
Lyke as the wyse in golden peace
for stormye warre prouide.
For more beleefe in this behalfe,
I then a little boy
Can now reporte, that Ofellus,
put not so greate a ioy,
Nor pleasured so in his cheefe wealthe,

Ofels talke in prosperitie

as in his worste decay.
This was a common talke of his
when he bare greateste sway.
Alls one to me: on woorkyday
I neuer coulde be taken
With better meate, in feelde or towne,
then roots or chimnye bacon.
I and my sonnes keepe thus in feilde,
our cattell seelde forsaken.
But if some old acquaintaunce cum,

Horace, A more honest kynde of liberalitie.

who hath bene longe away,
Or sum good honest neyghboure els
through sletie drisling day
Do cease from woorke, we mery make
not with suche costlye fyshe,
But with a chicken, or a kyd,
and grapes our seconde dishe,
A nutte, or els sum kynde of figge:
the table tayne awaye
We drincke about, and afterwarde
for Ceres giftes we pray,
So flye awaye the freating cares,
that bringe the wimpled age.

Let furiouse fortune frowne and fume,
and roste hyr selfe in rage,

Vmbrenus a souldier vvho had the groūd geuen him by Augustus.

She can not much empayre our cates:
my seruauntes haue not founde
Their cheare muche woorse sence Vmbrenus
hath gotte away our grounde.
It matters not, for nature gaue
not me this proper lande
At firste, nor him, nor any els,
he chaste vs forth with hande,
His beastelynes will chase him out,
or sum expulsiue lawe,
Or els his heire that shall suruiue,
when he muste couche full lawe
Now Vmbrens grounde, of late Ofells
(a thing not very stable)
Now myne, now thine, so muste we take,
the worlde as variable.
Let nothing cause your courage quayle,
in care be constante stille,
And bende your brestes to beare the blowes
of fortune that be ille.

University of Virginia Library

The second satire [of Horace]