University of Virginia Library

The eighte satire [of Horace]

Horace:
Howe doo you like the Epicures
repaste, so riche, and gay?
This other day I sent for you,
and then I did heare say,
You dynd abrode.

Fund.
In faith my frend
it liked me so much,
That ere this time, I do beleue,
there neuer was one suche.

Horace:
If that it be not tedious,
nor do not you displease,
What meate was first, your angrye maw
that gan for to appease?

Fundanus
Fyrst had we brawne from Lucanie,
the father of the feast,
Saide, he was slaine when southerne wind
his blustering blastes releast.
Rapes, Radishe, Lettice, Sherwicke rotes,
brothe start in tast, and quicke
Came next to make our stomake slow
more vrgently to pricke.
Fayre trēchers then was cald for straight,
the purple carpet drest,
Eche man desyres to syte next him,
that tauntingly can iest:
Rybauldes, and cockescombes are in deed
a sauce vnto our feast.
Fooles haue with vs a priuiledge
to tel who, what, and when,
Fooles speake oft times, the very thoughts
of wise and wittie men.
Ther was the costly Cullices
the Turbut and the Pyke,
The Porpose and the Porpentine
with many such the like.
Pyge, partrige, peacocke, sparrowe, qwale,
so many of a rowe,
That scarce the eater leaueth rome,
to fetche his wind, or blow.
All thinges, so formally brought in,
so solemnely assaide,
As though on alters to the Gods
the banket had bene made.
What drinke you maisters (quod our hoste)
Gascoyne or Rennishe wine.
We haue of al sortes in this house,
both lately brochde and fyne.
Then when that wine had wonne the fielde,
and maisterd al our guesse,
Lord what it was a ioy to see,
how some it downe doth presse:
Like as the thing that heauye is,
of Nature so is made,
(Except the same by violence
forholden be and staid,
To fal to grounde: like as the oke,
of substance styfe and stoute
Cums downe, when he with dynting axe
is hewed round aboute:
So doo our hoglings sinke foorthwith,
(their heade a Baccus barge)
Wine is I tel you, burtheynous,
and passing ful of charge.
Some singes of loue and louers fittes,
and, how Cupidos dart
Did smite him (gentil soule) amysse,
so deautyful an harte.
Some mourne and blame their sorie fate,

The diuers sortes of drunkerdes

why Fortune shoulde be suche,
That they suche blouddes shoulde nothinge haue,
and others ouermuche.
Sume chyde, some chatte, some raue, some reele,
and some can take the payne,
Of curtesye to geue myne hoste,
his supper vp againe.
Some will vnfould bygge mysteries,
and fram his matter so,
As though he had aboue the reste,
gotte Phebus by the toe.
Some wyll lament the state of tymes,
and howe that all is nought.
Howe thinges be rysen in theyr price,
and howe they haue ben bought.
Some sweare that they haue lyued yll,
and howe to morowe daye,
They wyll accorde with all the worlde,
and gynne on other playe.
How Vertue is a perelesse dame,
howe fewe do her imbrace:
This will they preache in gestryng wyse
as though in publike place
The thing were done. (lo Horace, lo)
our suppers and our cheare:
We spare no coste, we may not aske
if it be ceape, or deare
We keepe a troupe of seruynge men:
a crewe of lusty brutes,
And these for our great honours sake,
muste cutte it in their sutes.
These be our handye instrumentes,
to worchen all our will,
Not scrupulous for to inquire,
if it be good or ill.
So many, so officious,
that not one heare may lye
Amisse on vs, but he or he,
will spye it by and by.
We laugh at those when they are drunke,
those make a sporte alone:
To scoffe at straungers, when as they
with drinke are ouergone.
So so, no more Cupide cannot
from hyue of honey licke,
But one or other bee forthewith
will sting hym with her prycke.
The world the hyue the combes, the welth,
which who so dothe assaye,
Pleasure in face, poyson in tayle,
Lyke Scorpion they wyll paye,
The stynges that pricke be choking cares,
These hony tasters haue:
Whilst they are toste within thē selues,
to seeke, or howe to saue.
Wealthe is a thynge moste venomous,
and fewe or none we fynde,
But pleasure hath lyke Circes cuppes
yturnde them from their kynde.
Why shoulde the wyse esteme so muche,
a rowte of waytyng men?
Who, in theyr age most commonly,
what are they? beggers then.
Brought vp so lewde, contynue lewde,
retchelesse, and ydell swaynes:
Not knowyng arte, or handycrafte,
nor able to take paynes.
To kepe them braue, doothe euen as muche
thyne honour true vpholde
As yf thou shouldste make thee a tayle,
and gylde the same with golde
Is hospitalitie in those,
in feding any such?
In keping strong and heddy drinkes,
in beluing ouermuch?
Like spunges neuer satisfyed,
and like Vlixes foes,
From meate to bed, from bed to meate,
and so their circle goes.
Deuisers of all wantonnesse,
what shoulde I tell you more?
Good to increase, and multiplye
their lorde or maisters skore.
I do suppose, that if mens wealthes,
should answere to theyr wylles,
That night and day wold scarse suffice
to reuel out their fylles.
Eche man is counted of most price
and meet to be a Lord,
As he with dishes can depaint,
and ouercharge a borde.
No talke how wise, how vertuous,
or to take paines how able,
But if he kepe great store of drinke,
or honorable table.
Ther fore some people parasites,
that they may seme to passe,
Wyll spend out Malueseye, Muscadel,
and fumyshe Hypocrasse.
And make their cookes so looshiouslye,
their delicates to dresse
Their very meates so insensiue,
brought in, in such excesse:
That I do lothe them more in minde
as thinges more full of harme,
Then it that witche, that Canadie,
had cursde them with her charme