The Satires of Decimus Junius Juvenalis and of Aulus Persius Flaccus, Translated into English Verse. By William Gifford ... with Notes and Illustrations. In Two Volumes |
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| II. | SATIRE II. |
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 | The Satires of Decimus Junius Juvenalis |  |
43
SATIRE II.
45
O for an eagle's wings! that I might fly
To the bleak regions of the polar sky,
When from their lips the cant of virtue falls,
Who preach like Curii, live like Bacchanals!
To the bleak regions of the polar sky,
When from their lips the cant of virtue falls,
Who preach like Curii, live like Bacchanals!
Devoid of knowledge, as of worth, they thrust,
In every nook, some philosophick bust;
For he, among them, counts himself most wise,
Who most old sages of the sculptor buys;
Sets most true Zenos, or Cleanthes' heads,
To guard the volumes which he—never reads!
In every nook, some philosophick bust;
For he, among them, counts himself most wise,
Who most old sages of the sculptor buys;
Sets most true Zenos, or Cleanthes' heads,
To guard the volumes which he—never reads!
46
Trust not to outward show: in every street,
Obscenity, in formal garb, we meet.—
And dost thou, hypocrite, our lusts arraign,
Thou! of Socratick catamites the drain!
Nature thy rough and shaggy limbs design'd,
To mark a stern inexorable mind;
But all's so smooth below!—“the surgeon smiles,
“And scarcely can, for laughter, lance the piles.”
Obscenity, in formal garb, we meet.—
And dost thou, hypocrite, our lusts arraign,
Thou! of Socratick catamites the drain!
47
To mark a stern inexorable mind;
But all's so smooth below!—“the surgeon smiles,
“And scarcely can, for laughter, lance the piles.”
Gravely demure, in wisdom's awful chair,
His beetling eyebrows longer than his hair,
In solemn state, the affected Stoick sits,
And drops his maxims on the crowd by fits!—
Yon Peribomius, whose emaciate air,
And tottering gait, his foul disease declare,
With patience I can view; he braves disgrace,
Nor skulks behind a sanctimonious face:
Him may his folly, or his fate excuse—
But whip me those, who Virtue's name abuse,
And, soil'd with all the vices of the times,
Thunder damnation on their neighbour's crimes!
His beetling eyebrows longer than his hair,
In solemn state, the affected Stoick sits,
And drops his maxims on the crowd by fits!—
Yon Peribomius, whose emaciate air,
And tottering gait, his foul disease declare,
With patience I can view; he braves disgrace,
Nor skulks behind a sanctimonious face:
Him may his folly, or his fate excuse—
But whip me those, who Virtue's name abuse,
And, soil'd with all the vices of the times,
Thunder damnation on their neighbour's crimes!
“Shrink at the pathick Sextus! Can I be,
Whate'er my guilt, more infamous than he?”
Varillus cries: Let those who tread aright,
Deride the halt, the swarthy Moor, the white;
This we might bear; but who his spleen could rein,
And hear the Gracchi of the mob complain?
Who would not mingle earth, and sea, and sky,
Should Milo murder, Verres theft, decry,
Clodius adultery? Catiline accuse
Cethegus, Lentulus, of factious views,
Or Sylla's pupils, soil'd with deeper guilt,
Arraign their master for the blood he spilt?
Yet have we seen,—O Shame, for ever fled!—
A barbarous judge start from the incestuous bed,
And, with stern voice, those rigid laws awake,
At which the Powers of War and Beauty quake,
What time his drugs were speeding to the tomb
The abortive fruit of Julia's teeming womb!—
Whate'er my guilt, more infamous than he?”
48
Deride the halt, the swarthy Moor, the white;
This we might bear; but who his spleen could rein,
And hear the Gracchi of the mob complain?
49
Should Milo murder, Verres theft, decry,
Clodius adultery? Catiline accuse
Cethegus, Lentulus, of factious views,
Or Sylla's pupils, soil'd with deeper guilt,
Arraign their master for the blood he spilt?
50
A barbarous judge start from the incestuous bed,
And, with stern voice, those rigid laws awake,
At which the Powers of War and Beauty quake,
51
The abortive fruit of Julia's teeming womb!—
And must not, now, the most debased and vile,
Hear these false Scauri with a scornful smile;
And, while the hypocrites their crimes arraign,
Turn, like the trampled asp, and bite again!
They must; they do:—When late, amidst the crowd,
A zealot of the sect exclaim'd aloud,
Where sleeps the Julian law? Laronia eyed
The scowling Stoicide, and taunting, cried,
“Blest be the age, that such a censor gave,
“The groaning world to chasten and to save!
“Blush, Rome, and from the sink of sin arise—
“Lo! a third Cato, sent thee from the skies!
“But—tell me yet—What shop the balm supplied,
“Which, from your brawny neck and bristly hide,
“Such potent fragrance breathes? nor let it shame
“Your Gravity, to shew the vender's name.
Hear these false Scauri with a scornful smile;
And, while the hypocrites their crimes arraign,
Turn, like the trampled asp, and bite again!
They must; they do:—When late, amidst the crowd,
A zealot of the sect exclaim'd aloud,
Where sleeps the Julian law? Laronia eyed
The scowling Stoicide, and taunting, cried,
52
“The groaning world to chasten and to save!
“Blush, Rome, and from the sink of sin arise—
“Lo! a third Cato, sent thee from the skies!
“But—tell me yet—What shop the balm supplied,
“Which, from your brawny neck and bristly hide,
“Such potent fragrance breathes? nor let it shame
“Your Gravity, to shew the vender's name.
“If ancient laws must reassume their course,
“Give the Scantinian first its proper force.
“Look, look at home; the ways of men explore—
“Our faults, you say, are many; theirs are more:
“Yet safe from censure, as from fear, they stand,
“A firm, compact, impenetrable band!
“We know your monstrous leagues; but can you find
“One proof in us, of this detested kind?
“Pure days and nights with Cluvia, Flora led,
“And Tedia chastely shared Catulla's bed;
“While Hippo's brutal itch both sexes tried,
“And proved, by turns, the bridegroom and the bride!
“We ne'er, with mis-spent zeal, explore the laws,
“We throng no forum, and we plead no cause:
“Some few, perhaps, may wrestle, some be fed,
“To aid their breath, with strong athletick bread.
“Ye fling the shuttle with a female grace,
“And spin more subtly than Arachne's race;
“Cower'd o'er your labour, like the squalid jade,
“That plies the distaff, to a block belay'd.
“Give the Scantinian first its proper force.
“Look, look at home; the ways of men explore—
“Our faults, you say, are many; theirs are more:
“Yet safe from censure, as from fear, they stand,
“A firm, compact, impenetrable band!
53
“One proof in us, of this detested kind?
“Pure days and nights with Cluvia, Flora led,
“And Tedia chastely shared Catulla's bed;
“While Hippo's brutal itch both sexes tried,
“And proved, by turns, the bridegroom and the bride!
“We ne'er, with mis-spent zeal, explore the laws,
“We throng no forum, and we plead no cause:
“Some few, perhaps, may wrestle, some be fed,
“To aid their breath, with strong athletick bread.
“Ye fling the shuttle with a female grace,
“And spin more subtly than Arachne's race;
“Cower'd o'er your labour, like the squalid jade,
“That plies the distaff, to a block belay'd.
54
“Why Hister's freedman heir'd his wealth, and why
“His consort, while he lived, was bribed so high,
“I spare to tell; the wife that, sway'd by gain,
“Can make a third in bed, and ne'er complain,
“Must ever thrive: on secrets jewels wait:
“Then wed, my girls; be silent, and—be great!
“His consort, while he lived, was bribed so high,
“I spare to tell; the wife that, sway'd by gain,
“Can make a third in bed, and ne'er complain,
“Must ever thrive: on secrets jewels wait:
“Then wed, my girls; be silent, and—be great!
“Yet these are they, who, fierce in Virtue's cause,
“Consign our venial frailties to the laws;
“And, while with partial aim their censure moves,
“Acquit the vultures, and condemn the doves!”
She paused: the unmanly zealots felt the sway
Of conscious truth, and slunk, abash'd, away.
“Consign our venial frailties to the laws;
“And, while with partial aim their censure moves,
“Acquit the vultures, and condemn the doves!”
She paused: the unmanly zealots felt the sway
Of conscious truth, and slunk, abash'd, away.
But how shall vice be shamed, when, loosely drest,
In the light texture of a cobweb vest,
You, Creticus, amid the indignant crowd,
At Procla and Pollinea rail aloud?—
These, he rejoins, are “daughters of the game.”
Strike, then;—yet know, though lost to honest fame,
The wantons would reject a veil so thin,
And blush, while suffering, to display their skin.
“But Sirius glows; I burn.” Then, quit your dress;
'Twill thus be madness, and the scandal less.
O! could our legions, with fresh laurels crown'd,
And smarting still from many a glorious wound,
Our rustick mountaineers, (the plough laid by,
For city cares,) a judge so drest descry,
What thoughts would rise? Lo! robes, which misbecome
A witness, deck the awful bench of Rome;
And Creticus, stern champion of the laws,
Gleams through the tissue of pellucid gauze!
In the light texture of a cobweb vest,
You, Creticus, amid the indignant crowd,
At Procla and Pollinea rail aloud?—
55
Strike, then;—yet know, though lost to honest fame,
56
And blush, while suffering, to display their skin.
57
'Twill thus be madness, and the scandal less.
O! could our legions, with fresh laurels crown'd,
And smarting still from many a glorious wound,
Our rustick mountaineers, (the plough laid by,
For city cares,) a judge so drest descry,
What thoughts would rise? Lo! robes, which misbecome
A witness, deck the awful bench of Rome;
And Creticus, stern champion of the laws,
Gleams through the tissue of pellucid gauze!
Anon from you, as from its fountain head,
Wide and more wide the flagrant pest will spread;
As swine take measles from distemper'd swine,
And one infected grape pollutes the vine.
Yes, Rome shall see you, lewdlier clad, erewhile,
(For none become, at once, completely vile,)
In some opprobrious den of shame, combined
With that vile herd, the horrour of their kind,
Who twine gay fillets round the forehead; deck
With strings of orient pearl, the breast and neck;
Sooth the Good Goddess with large bowls of wine,
And the soft belly of a pregnant swine.—
No female, foul perversion! dares appear,
For males, and males alone, officiate here;
“Far hence,” they cry, “unholy sex retire,
“Our purer rites no lowing horn require!”
—At Athens thus, involv'd in thickest gloom,
Cotytto's priests her secret torch illume;
And to such orgies give the lustful night,
That e'en Cotytto sickens at the sight.
Wide and more wide the flagrant pest will spread;
As swine take measles from distemper'd swine,
And one infected grape pollutes the vine.
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(For none become, at once, completely vile,)
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With that vile herd, the horrour of their kind,
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With strings of orient pearl, the breast and neck;
Sooth the Good Goddess with large bowls of wine,
And the soft belly of a pregnant swine.—
No female, foul perversion! dares appear,
For males, and males alone, officiate here;
“Far hence,” they cry, “unholy sex retire,
“Our purer rites no lowing horn require!”
61
Cotytto's priests her secret torch illume;
And to such orgies give the lustful night,
That e'en Cotytto sickens at the sight.
With tiring-pins, these spread the sooty dye,
Arch the full brow, and tinge the trembling eye;
Those bind their flowing locks in cawls of gold,
Swill from huge glasses of immodest mould,
Light, filmy robes of azure net-work wear;
And, by their Juno, hark! the attendants swear!
This grasps a mirror—pathick Otho's boast,
(Auruncan Actor's spoil,) where, while his host,
With shouts, the signal of the fight required,
He view'd his mailed form; view'd, and admired!
Lo, a new subject for the historick page,
A mirror, midst the arms of civil rage!—
To murder Galba, was—a general's part!
A stern republican's—to dress with art!
The empire of the world in arms to seek,
And spread—a softening poultice o'er the cheek!
Preposterous vanity! and never seen,
Or in the Assyrian or Egyptian queen,
Though one in arms near old Euphrates stood,
And one the doubtful fight at Actium view'd.
Arch the full brow, and tinge the trembling eye;
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Swill from huge glasses of immodest mould,
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And, by their Juno, hark! the attendants swear!
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(Auruncan Actor's spoil,) where, while his host,
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He view'd his mailed form; view'd, and admired!
Lo, a new subject for the historick page,
A mirror, midst the arms of civil rage!—
To murder Galba, was—a general's part!
A stern republican's—to dress with art!
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And spread—a softening poultice o'er the cheek!
Preposterous vanity! and never seen,
Or in the Assyrian or Egyptian queen,
Though one in arms near old Euphrates stood,
And one the doubtful fight at Actium view'd.
No reverence for the table here is found;
But brutal mirth, and jests obscene go round:
They lisp, they squeal, and the rank language use,
Of Cybele's lewd votaries, or the stews:
Some wild enthusiast, silver'd o'er with age,
Yet fired by lust's ungovernable rage,
Of most insatiate throat, is named the priest,
And sits fit umpire of th' unhallow'd feast;
Why pause they here? Phrygians long since in heart,
Whence this delay, to lop a useless part?
But brutal mirth, and jests obscene go round:
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Of Cybele's lewd votaries, or the stews:
68
Yet fired by lust's ungovernable rage,
Of most insatiate throat, is named the priest,
And sits fit umpire of th' unhallow'd feast;
Why pause they here? Phrygians long since in heart,
Whence this delay, to lop a useless part?
Gracchus admired a cornet or a fife,
And, with an ample dower, became his wife.
The contract sign'd, the wonted bliss implored,
A costly supper decks the nuptial board;
And the new bride, amid the wondering room,
Lies in the bosom of the accursed groom!—
Say now, ye Nobles, claims this monstrous deed,
The Aruspex or the Censor? Can we need
More expiations?—sacrifices?—vows?
For calving women, or for lambing cows?
And, with an ample dower, became his wife.
69
A costly supper decks the nuptial board;
And the new bride, amid the wondering room,
Lies in the bosom of the accursed groom!—
Say now, ye Nobles, claims this monstrous deed,
The Aruspex or the Censor? Can we need
More expiations?—sacrifices?—vows?
For calving women, or for lambing cows?
The lusty priest, whose limbs dissolv'd with heat,
What time he danced beneath the Ancilia's weight,
Now flings the ensigns of his god aside,
And takes the stole and flammea of a bride!
What time he danced beneath the Ancilia's weight,
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And takes the stole and flammea of a bride!
71
Father of Rome! from what pernicious clime,
Did Latian swains derive so foul a crime?
Tell where the poisonous nettle first arose,
Whose baneful juice through all thy offspring flows.
Behold! a man for rank and power renown'd,
Marries a man!—and yet, with thundering sound,
Thy brazen helmet shakes not! earth yet stands,
Fix'd on its base, nor feels thy wrathful hands!
Is thy arm shorten'd? Raise to Jove thy prayer—
But Rome no longer knows thy guardian care;
Quit then the charge to some severer Power,
Of strength to punish in the obnoxious hour.
“To-morrow, with the dawn, I must attend
“In yonder valley!” Why so soon? “A friend
“Takes him a husband there, and bids a few”—
Few, yet: but wait awhile; and we shall view
Such contracts form'd without or shame or fear,
And enter'd on the records of the year!
Did Latian swains derive so foul a crime?
Tell where the poisonous nettle first arose,
Whose baneful juice through all thy offspring flows.
Behold! a man for rank and power renown'd,
Marries a man!—and yet, with thundering sound,
Thy brazen helmet shakes not! earth yet stands,
Fix'd on its base, nor feels thy wrathful hands!
Is thy arm shorten'd? Raise to Jove thy prayer—
But Rome no longer knows thy guardian care;
Quit then the charge to some severer Power,
Of strength to punish in the obnoxious hour.
“To-morrow, with the dawn, I must attend
“In yonder valley!” Why so soon? “A friend
“Takes him a husband there, and bids a few”—
Few, yet: but wait awhile; and we shall view
Such contracts form'd without or shame or fear,
And enter'd on the records of the year!
Meanwhile, one pang these passive monsters find,
One ceaseless pang, that preys upon the mind;
They cannot shift their sex, and pregnant prove
With the dear pledges of a husband's love:
Wisely confined by Nature's steady plan,
Which counteracts the wild desires of man.
For them, no drugs prolifick powers retain,
And the Luperci strike their palms in vain.
One ceaseless pang, that preys upon the mind;
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With the dear pledges of a husband's love:
Wisely confined by Nature's steady plan,
Which counteracts the wild desires of man.
For them, no drugs prolifick powers retain,
And the Luperci strike their palms in vain.
73
And yet these prodigies of vice appear,
Less monstrous, Gracchus, than the net and spear,
With which equipp'd, you urged th' unequal fight,
And fled, dishonour'd, in a nation's sight:
Though nobler far than each illustrious name,
That throng'd the pit, (spectators of your shame,)
Nay, than the Prætor, who the Show supplied,
At which your base dexterity was tried.
Less monstrous, Gracchus, than the net and spear,
With which equipp'd, you urged th' unequal fight,
And fled, dishonour'd, in a nation's sight:
74
That throng'd the pit, (spectators of your shame,)
Nay, than the Prætor, who the Show supplied,
At which your base dexterity was tried.
That angry Justice form'd a dreadful hell,
That ghosts in subterraneous regions dwell,
That hateful Styx his sable current rolls,
And Charon ferries o'er unbodied souls,
Are now as tales or idle fables prized;
By children question'd, and by men despised:
Yet these, do thou believe. What thoughts, declare,
Ye Scipios, once the thunderbolts of war!
Fabricius, Curius, great Camillus' ghost!
Ye valiant Fabii, in yourselves an host!
Ye dauntless youths at fatal Cannæ slain!
Spirits of many a brave and bloody plain!
What thoughts are yours, whene'er, with feet unblest,
An unbelieving shade invades your rest?
—Ye fly, to expiate the blasting view;
Fling on the pine-tree torch the sulphur blue,
And from the dripping bay, dash round the lustral dew.
That ghosts in subterraneous regions dwell,
That hateful Styx his sable current rolls,
And Charon ferries o'er unbodied souls,
Are now as tales or idle fables prized;
By children question'd, and by men despised:
Yet these, do thou believe. What thoughts, declare,
Ye Scipios, once the thunderbolts of war!
Fabricius, Curius, great Camillus' ghost!
Ye valiant Fabii, in yourselves an host!
75
Spirits of many a brave and bloody plain!
What thoughts are yours, whene'er, with feet unblest,
An unbelieving shade invades your rest?
—Ye fly, to expiate the blasting view;
Fling on the pine-tree torch the sulphur blue,
And from the dripping bay, dash round the lustral dew.
76
And yet—to these abodes we all must come,
Believe, or not, these are our final home;
Though now Iërne tremble at our sway,
And Britain, boastful of her length of day;
Though the blue Orcades receive our chain,
And isles that slumber in the frozen main.
Believe, or not, these are our final home;
77
And Britain, boastful of her length of day;
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And isles that slumber in the frozen main.
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But why of conquest boast? the conquer'd climes
Are free, O Rome, from thy detested crimes.
No;—one Armenian all our youth outgoes,
And, with curs'd fires, for a base tribune glows.
True: such thy power, Example! He was brought
An hostage hither, and the infection caught.—
O, bid the striplings flee! for sensual art,
Here lurks to snare the unsuspecting heart;
Then farewell, simple nature!—Pleased no more,
With knives, whips, bridles, (all they prized of yore,)
Thus taught, and thus debauch'd, they hasten home,
To spread the morals of Imperial Rome!
Are free, O Rome, from thy detested crimes.
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And, with curs'd fires, for a base tribune glows.
True: such thy power, Example! He was brought
An hostage hither, and the infection caught.—
O, bid the striplings flee! for sensual art,
Here lurks to snare the unsuspecting heart;
Then farewell, simple nature!—Pleased no more,
With knives, whips, bridles, (all they prized of yore,)
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To spread the morals of Imperial Rome!
| The Satires of Decimus Junius Juvenalis | |