Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Bookr, too, smokes, like that which fell, of old, By the famed hero with the locks of gold. Last, if the spring its genial influence shed, And welcome thunders call them from their bed, 175 Large mushrooms enter; ravished with their size, "O Libya, keep thy grain!" Alledius cries, "And bid thy oxen to their stalls retreat, Nor, while thou grow'st such mushrooms, think of wheat!" Meanwhile, to put your patience to the test, 180 Lo! the spruce carver, to his task addrest, Skips, like a harlequin, from place to place, And waves his knife with pantomimic grace, Till every dish be ranged, and every joint Severed, by nicest rules, from point to point. 185 You think this folly--'tis a simple thought-- To such perfection, now, is carving brought, That different gestures, by our curious men, Are used for different dishes, hare and hen. But think whate'er you may, your comments spare; 190 For should you, like a free-born Roman, dare To hint your thoughts, forth springs some sturdy groom, And drags you straight, heels foremost, from the room! Does Virro ever pledge you? ever sip The liquor touched by your unhallowed lip? 195 Or is there one of all your tribe so free, So desperate, as to say--"Sir, drink to me?" O, there is much, that never can be spoke By a poor client in a threadbare cloak! But should some godlike man, more kind than fate, 200 Some god, present you with a knight's estate, Heavens, what a change! how infinitely dear Would Trebius then become! How great appear, From nothing! Virro, so reserved of late, Grows quite familiar: "Brother, send your plate. 205 Dear brother Trebius! you were wont to say You liked this trail, I think--Oblige me, pray."-- O Riches!--this "dear brother" is your own, To you this friendship, this respect is shown. But would you now your patron's patron be? 210 Let no young Trebius wanton round your knee, No Trebia, none: a barren wife procures The kindest, truest friends! such then be yours.-- Yet, should she breed, and, to augment your joys, Pour in your lap, at once, three bouncing boys, 215 Virro will still, so you be wealthy, deign To toy and prattle with the lisping train; Will have his pockets too with farthings stored, And when the sweet young rogues approach his board, Bring out his pretty corselets for the breast, 220 His nuts, and apples, for each coaxing guest. You champ on spongy toadstools, hateful treat! Fearful of poison in each bit you eat; He feasts secure on mushrooms, fine as those Which Claudius, for his special eating chose, 225 Till one more fine, provided by his wife, Finished at once his feasting, and his life! Apples, as fragrant, and as bright of hue, As those which in Alcinoüs' gardens grew, Mellowed by constant sunshine; or as those, 230 Which graced the Hesperides, in burnished rows; Apples, which you may smell, but never taste, Before your lord and his great friends are placed: While you enjoy mere windfalls, such stale fruit, As serves to mortify the raw recruit, 235 When, armed with helm and shield, the lance he throws, And trembles at the shaggy master's blows. You think, perhaps, that Virro treats so ill To save his gold; no, 'tis to vex you still: For, say, what comedy such mirth can raise, 240 As hunger, tortured thus a thousand ways? No (if you know it not), 'tis to excite Your rage, your phrensy, for his mere delight; 'Tis to compel you all your gall to show, And gnash your teeth in agonies of woe. 245 You deem yourself (such pride inflates your breast), Forsooth, a freeman, and your patron's guest; He thinks you a vile slave, drawn, by the smell Of his warm kitchen, there; and he thinks well: For who so low, so wretched as to bear 250 Such treatment twice, whose fortune 'twas to wear The golden boss; nay, to whose humbler lot, The poor man's ensign fell, the leathern knot! Your palate still beguiles you: Ah, how nice That smoking haunch! NOW we shall have a slice! 255 Now that half hare is coming! NOW a bit Of that young pullet! NOW--and thus you sit, Thumbing your bread in silence; watching still, For what has never reached you, never will! No more of freedom! 'tis a vain pretense: 260 Your patron treats you like a man of sense: For, if you can, without a murmur, bear, You well deserve the insults which you share. Anon, like voluntary slaves, you'll throw Your humbled necks beneath the oppressor's blow, 265 Nay, with bare backs, solicit to be beat, And merit SUCH A FRIEND, and SUCH A TREAT! SATIRE VI. TO URSIDIUS POSTHUMUS. Yes, I believe that CHASTITY was known, And prized on earth, while Saturn filled the throne; When rocks a bleak and scanty shelter gave, When sheep and shepherds thronged one common cave, And when the mountain wife her couch bestrewed 5 With skins of beasts, joint tenants of the wood, And reeds, and leaves plucked from the neighboring tree:-- A woman, Cynthia, far unlike to thee, Or thee, weak child of fondness and of fears, Whose eyes a sparrow's death suffused with tears: 10 But strong, and reaching to her burly brood Her big-swollen breasts, replete with wholesome food, And rougher than her husband, gorged with mast, And frequent belching from the coarse repast. For when the world was new, the race that broke, 15 Unfathered, from the soil or opening oak, Lived most unlike the men of later times, The puling brood of follies and of crimes. Haply some trace of Chastity remained, While Jove, but Jove as yet unbearded, reigned: 20 Before the Greek bound, by another's head, His doubtful faith; or men, of theft in dread, Had learned their herbs and fruitage to immure, But all was uninclosed, and all secure! At length Astrea, from these confines driven, 25 Regained by slow degrees her native heaven; With her retired her sister in disgust, And left the world to rapine, and to lust. 'Tis not a practice, friend, of recent date, But old, established, and inveterate, 30 To climb another's couch, and boldly slight The sacred Genius of the nuptial rite: All other crimes the Age of Iron curst; But that of Silver saw adulterers first. Yet thou, it seems, art eager to engage 35 Thy witless neck, in this degenerate age! Even now, thy hair the modish curl is taught, By master-hands; even now, the ring is bought; Even now--thou once, Ursidius, hadst thy wits, But thus to talk of wiving!--O, these fits! 40 What more than madness has thy soul possest? What snakes, what Furies, agitate thy breast? Heavens! wilt thou tamely drag the galling chain, While hemp is to be bought, while knives remain? While windows woo thee so divinely high, 45 And Tiber and the Æmilian bridge are nigh?-- "O, but the law," thou criest, "the Julian law, Will keep my destined wife from every flaw; Besides, I die for heirs." Good! and for those, Wilt thou the turtle and the turbot lose, 50 And all the dainties, which the flatterer, still Heaps on the childless, to secure his Will? Bu |