A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition |
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Epist. XVIII. To Lollius.
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 | A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace |  |
Epist. XVIII. To Lollius.
Lollius, if well I know your Heart,
Your Frankness can disdain an Art,
That will to sordid Flattery bend,
And basely counterfeit the Friend;
For such the Difference, I ween,
The Flatterer and Friend between,
As is betwixt a virtuous Dame,
And Prostitute of common Fame.
Your Frankness can disdain an Art,
That will to sordid Flattery bend,
And basely counterfeit the Friend;
For such the Difference, I ween,
The Flatterer and Friend between,
As is betwixt a virtuous Dame,
And Prostitute of common Fame.
Behold, in opposite Excess,
A different Vice, though nothing less;
Rustic, inelegant, uncouth,
With shaggy Beard, and nasty Tooth,
That fondly would be thought to be
Fair Virtue, and pure Liberty:
But Virtue in a Medium lies,
From whence these different Follies rise.
A different Vice, though nothing less;
Rustic, inelegant, uncouth,
With shaggy Beard, and nasty Tooth,
That fondly would be thought to be
Fair Virtue, and pure Liberty:
But Virtue in a Medium lies,
From whence these different Follies rise.
Another, with Devotion fervent,
Is more than your obsequious Servant;
Admitted as an humble Guest,
Where Men of Money break their Jest,
He waits the Nod, with Awe profound,
And catches, ere it reach the Ground,
The falling Joke, and echoes back the Sound.
A School-boy thus with humble Air,
Repeats to Pedagogue severe;
Thus Players act an Under-part,
And fear to put forth all their Art.
Is more than your obsequious Servant;
Admitted as an humble Guest,
Where Men of Money break their Jest,
359
And catches, ere it reach the Ground,
The falling Joke, and echoes back the Sound.
A School-boy thus with humble Air,
Repeats to Pedagogue severe;
Thus Players act an Under-part,
And fear to put forth all their Art.
Another in Dispute engages,
With Nonsense arm'd for Nothing rages,
“Shall not my Word be first receiv'd?
“My Word of Honour not believ'd?
“And shall I, whether right or wrong,
“Be forc'd, forsooth, to hold my Tongue?
“No—, at a Price so base and mean,
“I would a thousand Lives disdain.”
With Nonsense arm'd for Nothing rages,
“Shall not my Word be first receiv'd?
“My Word of Honour not believ'd?
“And shall I, whether right or wrong,
“Be forc'd, forsooth, to hold my Tongue?
“No—, at a Price so base and mean,
“I would a thousand Lives disdain.”
But what provokes the dire Contest?
Which Gladiator fences best,
Or to which Road You best may turn Ye,
If to Brundusium lies your Journey.
Which Gladiator fences best,
Or to which Road You best may turn Ye,
If to Brundusium lies your Journey.
Now, Lollius, mark the Wretch's Fate,
Who lives dependant on the Great.
If the præcipitating Dice,
If Venus be his darling Vice,
If Vanity his Wealth consumes
In Dressing, Feasting, and Perfumes,
If Thirst of Gold his Bosom sways,
A Thirst, which nothing can appease,
If Poverty with Shame he views,
And Wealth with every Vice pursues,
My Lord, more vicious as more great,
Views him with Horrour, or with Hate;
At least, shall o'er him tyrannise,
And like a fond Mamma advise,
Who bids her darling Daughter shun
The Paths of Folly she had run.
Think not, he cries, to live like me;
My Wealth supports my Vanity;
Your Folly should be moderate,
Proportion'd to a small Estate.
Who lives dependant on the Great.
If the præcipitating Dice,
If Venus be his darling Vice,
If Vanity his Wealth consumes
In Dressing, Feasting, and Perfumes,
If Thirst of Gold his Bosom sways,
A Thirst, which nothing can appease,
If Poverty with Shame he views,
And Wealth with every Vice pursues,
My Lord, more vicious as more great,
Views him with Horrour, or with Hate;
At least, shall o'er him tyrannise,
And like a fond Mamma advise,
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The Paths of Folly she had run.
Think not, he cries, to live like me;
My Wealth supports my Vanity;
Your Folly should be moderate,
Proportion'd to a small Estate.
Eutrapelus, in merry Mood,
The Objects of his Wrath pursued,
And where he deepest Vengeance meant,
Fine Clothes, with cruel Bounty, sent;
For when the happy Coxcomb's drest,
Strange Hopes and Projects fill his Breast;
He sleeps 'till Noon, nor will the Varlet,
For Fame or Fortune, leave his Harlot.
Lavish he feeds the Usurer's Store,
And when the Miser lends no more,
He learns the Gladiator's Art,
Or humbly drives a Gardiner's Cart.
The Objects of his Wrath pursued,
And where he deepest Vengeance meant,
Fine Clothes, with cruel Bounty, sent;
For when the happy Coxcomb's drest,
Strange Hopes and Projects fill his Breast;
He sleeps 'till Noon, nor will the Varlet,
For Fame or Fortune, leave his Harlot.
Lavish he feeds the Usurer's Store,
And when the Miser lends no more,
He learns the Gladiator's Art,
Or humbly drives a Gardiner's Cart.
Strive not with mean unhandsome Lore,
Your Patron's Bosom to explore,
And let not Wine, or Anger wrest
Th' intrusted Secret from your Breast.
Your Patron's Bosom to explore,
And let not Wine, or Anger wrest
Th' intrusted Secret from your Breast.
Nor blame the Pleasures of your Friend,
Nor to your own too earnest bend;
Nor idly court the froward Muse,
While He the vigorous Chace pursues.
Humours like these could fatal prove
To Zethus' and Amphion's Love,
Until Amphion kind complied,
And laid th' offensive Lyre aside.
So to your Patron's Will give Way,
His gentle Insolence obey,
And when he pours into the Plain
His Horses, Dogs, and Hunting-Train,
Break from the peevish Muse away,
Divide the Toils, and share the Prey.
Nor to your own too earnest bend;
Nor idly court the froward Muse,
While He the vigorous Chace pursues.
Humours like these could fatal prove
To Zethus' and Amphion's Love,
Until Amphion kind complied,
And laid th' offensive Lyre aside.
So to your Patron's Will give Way,
His gentle Insolence obey,
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His Horses, Dogs, and Hunting-Train,
Break from the peevish Muse away,
Divide the Toils, and share the Prey.
The Chace was by our Sires esteem'd,
Healthful and honourable deem'd.
Thy Swiftness far the Hound's exceeds;
The Boar beneath thy Javelin bleeds,
And who, like Thee, with Grace can wield
The Weapons of the martial Field,
Or with such loud Applause as thine,
Amidst the youthful Battle shine?
Healthful and honourable deem'd.
Thy Swiftness far the Hound's exceeds;
The Boar beneath thy Javelin bleeds,
And who, like Thee, with Grace can wield
The Weapons of the martial Field,
Or with such loud Applause as thine,
Amidst the youthful Battle shine?
In the destructive War of Spain
Early you made your first Campaign,
Beneath a Leader, who regains
Our Eagles from the Parthian Fanes,
And boundless now extends his Sway,
And bids a willing World obey.
Early you made your first Campaign,
Beneath a Leader, who regains
Our Eagles from the Parthian Fanes,
And boundless now extends his Sway,
And bids a willing World obey.
Lollius, though all your Actions rise
From Judgement regularly wise,
Yet oft at home you can unbend,
And even to trifling Sports descend.
Your little Boats, with mimic Rage,
Like Actium's mighty Fleets engage;
Your Lake, like Adria's Ocean spreads,
The adverse War your Brother leads,
'Till Victory her Wings display,
And crown the Conqueror of the Day.
Cæsar, who finds that you approve
His Taste, shall your Diversions love.
From Judgement regularly wise,
Yet oft at home you can unbend,
And even to trifling Sports descend.
Your little Boats, with mimic Rage,
Like Actium's mighty Fleets engage;
Your Lake, like Adria's Ocean spreads,
The adverse War your Brother leads,
'Till Victory her Wings display,
And crown the Conqueror of the Day.
Cæsar, who finds that you approve
His Taste, shall your Diversions love.
365
If my Advice regard may claim,
Be tender of another's Fame,
And be the Man with Caution try'd,
In whose Discretion You confide.
Th' Impertinent be sure to hate;
Who loves to ask, will love to prate.
Ears, that unfold to every Tale,
Intrusted Secrets ill conceal,
And You shall wish, but wish in vain,
To call the fleeting Words again.
Be tender of another's Fame,
And be the Man with Caution try'd,
In whose Discretion You confide.
Th' Impertinent be sure to hate;
Who loves to ask, will love to prate.
Ears, that unfold to every Tale,
Intrusted Secrets ill conceal,
And You shall wish, but wish in vain,
To call the fleeting Words again.
Be not by foolish Love betray'd
To tempt your Patron's favourite Maid,
For, if he grant your fond Request,
He now believes You fully blest;
If he refuse, You sure must prove
The Tortures of despairing Love.
To tempt your Patron's favourite Maid,
For, if he grant your fond Request,
He now believes You fully blest;
If he refuse, You sure must prove
The Tortures of despairing Love.
With cautious Judgement, o'er and o'er,
The Man you recommend explore,
Lest, when the Scoundrel's better known,
You blush for Errours not your own.
Then frankly give him up to Shame,
But boldly guard the injur'd Fame
Of a well-known, and valued Friend,
And with your utmost Power defend;
For, be assur'd, when he's defam'd,
At You the envenom'd Shaft is aim'd.
When Flames your Neighbour's Dwelling seize,
Your own with instant Rage shall blaze,
Then haste to stop the spreading Fire,
Which, if neglected, rises higher.
The Man you recommend explore,
Lest, when the Scoundrel's better known,
You blush for Errours not your own.
Then frankly give him up to Shame,
But boldly guard the injur'd Fame
Of a well-known, and valued Friend,
And with your utmost Power defend;
For, be assur'd, when he's defam'd,
At You the envenom'd Shaft is aim'd.
When Flames your Neighbour's Dwelling seize,
Your own with instant Rage shall blaze,
Then haste to stop the spreading Fire,
Which, if neglected, rises higher.
367
Untry'd, how sweet a Court-Attendance!
When try'd, how dreadful the Dependance!
Yet, while your Vessel's under Sail,
Be sure to catch the flying Gale,
Lest adverse Winds, with rapid Force,
Should bear You from your destin'd Course.
When try'd, how dreadful the Dependance!
Yet, while your Vessel's under Sail,
Be sure to catch the flying Gale,
Lest adverse Winds, with rapid Force,
Should bear You from your destin'd Course.
The Grave, a gay Companion, shun;
Far from the Sad the Jovial run;
The Gay, the Witty, and Sedate,
Are Objects of each other's Hate,
And they, who quaff their midnight Glass,
Scorn them, who dare a Bumper pass,
Although they loudly swear, they dread
A sick Debauch and aching Head.
Far from the Sad the Jovial run;
The Gay, the Witty, and Sedate,
Are Objects of each other's Hate,
And they, who quaff their midnight Glass,
Scorn them, who dare a Bumper pass,
Although they loudly swear, they dread
A sick Debauch and aching Head.
Be every Look serenely gay,
And drive all cloudy Cares away.
The Modest oft too dark appear,
The Silent thoughtfully severe.
And drive all cloudy Cares away.
The Modest oft too dark appear,
The Silent thoughtfully severe.
Consult the Wisdom of each Page,
Inquire of every scienc'd Sage,
How you may glide with gentle Ease
Adown the Current of your Days,
Nor vex'd by mean and low Desires,
Nor warm'd by wild Ambition's Fires,
By Hope alarm'd, deprest by Fear,
For things but little worth your Care.
Inquire of every scienc'd Sage,
How you may glide with gentle Ease
Adown the Current of your Days,
Nor vex'd by mean and low Desires,
Nor warm'd by wild Ambition's Fires,
By Hope alarm'd, deprest by Fear,
For things but little worth your Care.
Enquire if Virtue's hallow'd Rules
Proceed from Nature, or the Schools;
What may the Force of Care suspend,
And make You to your-self a Friend;
Whether the tranquil Mind and pure,
Honours or Wealth our Bliss insure,
Or down through Life unknown to stray,
Where lonely leads the silent Way.
Proceed from Nature, or the Schools;
What may the Force of Care suspend,
And make You to your-self a Friend;
Whether the tranquil Mind and pure,
Honours or Wealth our Bliss insure,
Or down through Life unknown to stray,
Where lonely leads the silent Way.
369
When happy in my rural Scene,
Whose Fountain chills the shuddering Swain,
Such is my Prayer—Let me possess
My present Wealth, or even less,
And if the bounteous Gods design
A longer Life, that Life be mine.
Give me of Books the mental Chear,
Of Wealth, sufficient for a Year,
Nor Let me float in Fortune's Power,
Dependant on the future Hour.
To Jove for Life and Wealth I pray,
These Jove may give, or take away,
But, for a firm and tranquil Mind,
That Blessing in myself I'll find.
Whose Fountain chills the shuddering Swain,
Such is my Prayer—Let me possess
My present Wealth, or even less,
And if the bounteous Gods design
A longer Life, that Life be mine.
Give me of Books the mental Chear,
Of Wealth, sufficient for a Year,
Nor Let me float in Fortune's Power,
Dependant on the future Hour.
To Jove for Life and Wealth I pray,
These Jove may give, or take away,
But, for a firm and tranquil Mind,
That Blessing in myself I'll find.
| A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | |