Complete Works of Horace (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics)

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Complete Works of Horace (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics) Page 52

by Horace Quintus Horatius Flaccus


  Verse taught life’s duties, showed the future clear,

  And won a monarch’s favour through his ear:

  Verse gave relief from labour, and supplied

  Light mirth for holiday and festal tide.

  Then blush not for the lyre: Apollo sings

  In unison with her who sweeps its strings.

  But here occurs a question some men start,

  If good verse comes from nature or from art.

  For me, I cannot see how native wit

  Can e’er dispense with art, or art with it.

  Set them to pull together, they’re agreed,

  And each supplies what each is found to need.

  The youth who suns for prizes wisely trains,

  Bears cold and heat, is patient and abstains:

  The flute-player at a festival, before

  He plays in public, has to learn his lore.

  Not so our bardlings: they come bouncing in —

  “I’m your true poet: let them laugh that win:

  Plague take the last! although I ne’er was taught,

  Is that a cause for owning I know nought?”

  As puffing auctioneers collect a throng,

  Rich poets bribe false friends to hear their song:

  Who can resist the lord of so much rent,

  Of so much money at so much per cent.?

  Is there a wight can give a grand regale,

  Act as a poor man’s counsel or his bail?

  Blest though he be, his wealth will cloud his view,

  Nor suffer him to know false friends from true.

  Don’t ask a man whose feelings overflow

  For kindness that you’ve shown or mean to show

  To listen to your verse: each line you read,

  He’ll cry, “Good! bravo! exquisite indeed!”

  He’ll change his colour, let his eyes run o’er

  With tears of joy, dance, beat upon the floor.

  Hired mourners at a funeral say and do

  A little more than they whose grief is true:

  ’Tis just so here: false flattery displays

  More show of sympathy than honest praise.

  ’Tis said when kings a would-be friend will try,

  With wine they rack him and with bumpers ply:

  If you write poems, look beyond the skin

  Of the smooth fox, and search the heart within.

  Read verses to Quintilius, he would say,

  “I don’t like this and that: improve it, pray:”

  Tell him you found it hopeless to correct;

  You’d tried it twice or thrice without effect:

  He’d calmly bid you make the three times four,

  And take the unlicked cub in hand once more.

  But if you chose to vindicate the crime,

  Not mend it, he would waste no further time,

  But let you live, untroubled by advice,

  Sole tenant of your own fool’s paradise.

  A wise and faithful counsellor will blame

  Weak verses, note the rough, condemn the lame,

  Retrench luxuriance, make obscureness plain,

  Cross-question this, bid that be writ again:

  A second Aristarch, he will not ask,

  “Why for such trifles take my friend to task?”

  Such trifles bring to serious grief ere long

  A hapless bard, once flattered and led wrong.

  See the mad poet! never wight, though sick

  Of itch or jaundice, moon-struck, fanatic,

  Was half so dangerous: men whose mind is sound

  Avoid him; fools pursue him, children hound.

  Suppose, while spluttering verses, head on high,

  Like fowler watching blackbirds in the sky,

  He falls into a pit; though loud he shout

  “Help, neighbours, help!” let no man pull him out:

  Should some one seem disposed a rope to fling,

  I will strike in with, “Pray do no such thing:

  I’ll warrant you he meant it,” and relate

  His brother bard Empedocles’s fate,

  Who, wishing to be thought a god, poor fool,

  Leapt down hot AEtna’s crater, calm and cool.

  “Leave poets free to perish as they will:

  Save them by violence, you as good as kill.

  ’Tis not his first attempt: if saved to-day,

  He’s sure to die in some outrageous way.

  Beside, none knows the reason why this curse

  Was sent on him, this love of making verse,

  By what offence heaven’s anger he incurred,

  A grave denied, a sacred boundary stirred:

  So much is plain, he’s mad: like bear that beats

  His prison down and ranges through the streets,

  This terrible reciter puts to flight

  The learned and unlearned left and right:

  Let him catch one, he keeps him till he kills,

  As leeches stick till they have sucked their fills.”

  The Latin Texts

  The Gardens of Maecenas, built by Horace’s patron Gaius Maecenas, were the first gardens in the Hellenistic-Persian garden style in Rome. Maecenas sited them on the Esquiline Hill, atop the Servian Wall and its adjoining necropolis, near the gardens of Lamia. Horace was likely a frequent visitor of the gardens.

  The interior of the auditorium

  LIST OF LATIN TEXTS

  In this section of the eBook, readers can view the original Latin texts of Horace’s works. You may wish to Bookmark this page for future reference.

  CONTENTS

  SERMONES

  EPODES

  CARMINA

  EPISTULAE

  CARMEN SAECULARE

  ARS POETICA

  SERMONES

  CONTENTS

  Liber I

  1.1

  1.2

  1.3

  1.4

  1.5

  1.6

  1.7

  1.8

  1.9

  1.10

  Liber II

  2.1

  2.2

  2.3

  2.4

  2.5

  2.6

  2.7

  2.8

  Liber I

  1.1

  Qui fit, Maecenas, ut nemo, quam sibi sortem

  seu ratio dederit seu fors obiecerit, illa

  contentus vivat, laudet diversa sequentis?

  ‘o fortunati mercatores’ gravis annis

  miles ait, multo iam fractus membra labore; 5

  contra mercator navim iactantibus Austris:

  ‘militia est potior. quid enim? concurritur: horae

  momento cita mors venit aut victoria laeta.’

  agricolam laudat iuris legumque peritus,

  sub galli cantum consultor ubi ostia pulsat; 10

  ille, datis vadibus qui rure extractus in urbem est,

  solos felicis viventis clamat in urbe.

  cetera de genere hoc — adeo sunt multa — loquacem

  delassare valent Fabium. ne te morer, audi,

  quo rem deducam. si quis deus ‘en ego’ dicat 15

  ‘iam faciam quod voltis: eris tu, qui modo miles,

  mercator; tu, consultus modo, rusticus: hinc vos,

  vos hinc mutatis discedite partibus. eia,

  quid statis?’ nolint. atqui licet esse beatis.

  quid causae est, merito quin illis Iuppiter ambas 20

  iratus buccas inflet neque se fore posthac

  tam facilem dicat, votis ut praebeat aurem?

  praeterea, ne sic ut qui iocularia ridens

  percurram: quamquam ridentem dicere verum

  quid vetat? ut pueris olim dant crustula blandi 25

  doctores, elementa velint ut discere prima:

  sed tamen amoto quaeramus seria ludo:

  ille gravem duro terram qui vertit aratro,

  perfidus hic caupo, miles nautaeque, per omne

  audaces mare qui currunt, hac men
te laborem 30

  sese ferre, senes ut in otia tuta recedant,

  aiunt, cum sibi sint congesta cibaria: sicut

  parvola — nam exemplo est — magni formica laboris

  ore trahit quodcumque potest atque addit acervo

  quem struit, haud ignara ac non incauta futuri. 35

  quae, simul inversum contristat Aquarius annum,

  non usquam prorepit et illis utitur ante

  quaesitis sapiens, cum te neque fervidus aestus

  demoveat lucro neque hiems, ignis mare ferrum,

  nil obstet tibi, dum ne sit te ditior alter. 40

  quid iuvat inmensum te argenti pondus et auri

  furtim defossa timidum deponere terra?

  quod, si conminuas, vilem redigatur ad assem?

  at ni id fit, quid habet pulcri constructus acervus?

  milia frumenti tua triverit area centum: 45

  non tuus hoc capiet venter plus ac meus: ut, si

  reticulum panis venalis inter onusto

  forte vehas umero, nihilo plus accipias quam

  qui nil portarit. vel dic quid referat intra

  naturae finis viventi, iugera centum an 50

  mille aret? ‘at suave est ex magno tollere acervo.’

  dum ex parvo nobis tantundem haurire relinquas,

  cur tua plus laudes cumeris granaria nostris?

  ut tibi si sit opus liquidi non amplius urna

  vel cyatho et dicas ‘magno de flumine mallem 55

  quam ex hoc fonticulo tantundem sumere.’ eo fit,

  plenior ut siquos delectet copia iusto,

  cum ripa simul avolsos ferat Aufidus acer.

  at qui tantuli eget quanto est opus, is neque limo

  turbatam haurit aquam neque vitam amittit in undis. 60

  at bona pars hominum decepta cupidine falso

  ‘nil satis est’, inquit, ‘quia tanti quantum habeas sis’:

  quid facias illi? iubeas miserum esse, libenter

  quatenus id facit: ut quidam memoratur Athenis

  sordidus ac dives, populi contemnere voces 65

  sic solitus: ‘populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo

  ipse domi, simul ac nummos contemplor in arca.’

  Tantalus a labris sitiens fugientia captat

  flumina — quid rides? mutato nomine de te

  fabula narratur: congestis undique saccis 70

  indormis inhians et tamquam parcere sacris

  cogeris aut pictis tamquam gaudere tabellis.

  nescis, quo valeat nummus, quem praebeat usum?

  panis ematur, holus, vini sextarius, adde

  quis humana sibi doleat natura negatis. 75

  an vigilare metu exanimem, noctesque diesque

  formidare malos fures, incendia, servos,

  ne te conpilent fugientes, hoc iuvat? horum

  semper ego optarim pauperrimus esse bonorum.

  at si condoluit temptatum frigore corpus 80

  aut alius casus lecto te adflixit, habes qui

  adsideat, fomenta paret, medicum roget, ut te

  suscitet ac reddat gnatis carisque propinquis?

  non uxor salvum te volt, non filius; omnes

  vicini oderunt, noti, pueri atque puellae. 85

  miraris, cum tu argento post omnia ponas,

  si nemo praestet, quem non merearis, amorem?

  an si cognatos, nullo natura labore

  quos tibi dat, retinere velis servareque amicos,

  infelix operam perdas, ut siquis asellum 90

  in campo doceat parentem currere frenis?

  denique sit finis quaerendi, cumque habeas plus,

  pauperiem metuas minus et finire laborem

  incipias, parto quod avebas, ne facias quod

  Ummidius quidam; non longa est fabula: dives 95

  ut metiretur nummos, ita sordidus, ut se

  non umquam servo melius vestiret, ad usque

  supremum tempus, ne se penuria victus

  opprimeret, metuebat. at hunc liberta securi

  divisit medium, fortissima Tyndaridarum. 100

  ‘quid mi igitur suades? ut vivam Naevius aut sic

  ut Nomentanus?’ pergis pugnantia secum

  frontibus adversis conponere: non ego avarum

  cum veto te, fieri vappam iubeo ac nebulonem:

  est inter Tanain quiddam socerumque Viselli: 105

  est modus in rebus, sunt certi denique fines,

  quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum.

  illuc, unde abii, redeo, qui nemo, ut avarus,

  se probet ac potius laudet diversa sequentis,

  quodque aliena capella gerat distentius uber, 110

  tabescat neque se maiori pauperiorum

  turbae conparet, hunc atque hunc superare laboret.

  sic festinanti semper locupletior obstat,

  ut, cum carceribus missos rapit ungula currus,

  instat equis auriga suos vincentibus, illum 115

  praeteritum temnens extremos inter euntem.

  inde fit, ut raro, qui se vixisse beatum

  dicat et exacto contentus tempore vita

  cedat uti conviva satur, reperire queamus.

  iam satis est. ne me Crispini scrinia lippi 120

  conpilasse putes, verbum non amplius addam.

  1.2

  Ambubaiarum collegia, pharmacopolae,

  mendici, mimae, balatrones, hoc genus omne

  maestum ac sollicitum est cantoris morte Tigelli.

  quippe benignus erat. contra hic, ne prodigus esse

  dicatur metuens, inopi dare nolit amico, 5

  frigus quo duramque famem propellere possit.

  hunc si perconteris, avi cur atque parentis

  praeclaram ingrata stringat malus ingluvie rem,

  omnia conductis coemens obsonia nummis,

  sordidus atque animi quod parvi nolit haberi, 10

  respondet. laudatur ab his, culpatur ab illis.

  Fufidius vappae famam timet ac nebulonis

  [dives agris, dives positis in fenore nummis]:

  quinas hic capiti mercedes exsecat atque

  quanto perditior quisque est, tanto acrius urget; 15

  nomina sectatur modo sumpta veste virili

  sub patribus duris tironum. ‘maxime’ quis non

  ‘Iuppiter’ exclamat simul atque audivit? ‘at in se

  pro quaestu sumptum facit hic?’ vix credere possis,

  quam sibi non sit amicus, ita ut pater ille, Terenti 20

  fabula quem miserum gnato vixisse fugato

  inducit, non se peius cruciaverit atque hic.

  siquis nunc quaerat ‘quo res haec pertinet?’ illuc:

  dum vitant stulti vitia, in contraria currunt.

  Maltinus tunicis demissis ambulat, est qui 25

  inguen ad obscaenum subductis usque; facetus

  pastillos Rufillus olet, Gargonius hircum:

  nil medium est. sunt qui nolint tetigisse nisi illas

  quarum subsuta talos tegat instita veste,

  contra alius nullam nisi olenti in fornice stantem. 30

  quidam notus homo cum exiret fornice, ‘macte

  virtute esto’ inquit sententia dia Catonis;

  ‘nam simul ac venas inflavit taetra libido,

  huc iuvenes aequom est descendere, non alienas

  permolere uxores.’ ‘nolim laudarier’ inquit 35

  ‘sic me’ mirator cunni Cupiennius albi.

  audire est operae pretium, procedere recte

  qui moechis non voltis, ut omni parte laborent

  utque illis multo corrupta dolore voluptas

  atque haec rara cadat dura inter saepe pericla. 40

  hic se praecipitem tecto dedit, ille flagellis

  ad mortem caesus, fugiens hic decidit acrem

  praedonum in turbam, dedit hic pro corpore nummos,

  hunc perminxerunt calones; quin etiam illud

  accidit, ut cuidam testis caudamque salacem 45

  demeterent ferro. ‘iure’ omnes: Galba negabat.

  tutior at quanto merx est
in classe secunda,

  libertinarum dico: Sallustius in quas

  non minus insanit quam qui moechatur. at hic si,

  qua res, qua ratio suaderet quaque modeste 50

  munifico esse licet, vellet bonus atque benignus

  esse, daret quantum satis esset nec sibi damno

  dedecorique foret. verum hoc se amplectitur uno,

  hoc amat et laudat: ‘matronam nullam ego tango’,

  ut quondam Marsaeus, amator Originis ille, 55

  qui patrium mimae donat fundumque laremque,

  ‘nil fuerit mi’ inquit ‘cum uxoribus umquam alienis.’

  verum est cum mimis, est cum meretricibus, unde

  fama malum gravius quam res trahit. an tibi abunde

  personam satis est, non illud, quidquid ubique 60

  officit, evitare? bonam deperdere famam,

  rem patris oblimare malum est ubicumque. quid inter-

  est in matrona, ancilla peccesne togata?

  Villius in Fausta Sullae gener, hoc miser uno

  nomine deceptus, poenas dedit usque superque 65

  quam satis est, pugnis caesus ferroque petitus,

  exclusus fore, cum Longarenus foret intus.

  huic si muttonis verbis mala tanta videnti

  diceret haec animus ‘quid vis tibi? numquid ego a te

  magno prognatum deposco consule cunnum 70

  velatumque stola, mea cum conferbuit ira?’

  quid responderet? ‘magno patre nata puella est.’

  at quanto meliora monet pugnantiaque istis

  dives opis natura suae, tu si modo recte

  dispensare velis ac non fugienda petendis 75

  inmiscere. tuo vitio rerumne labores,

  nil referre putas? quare, ne paeniteat te,

  desine matronas sectarier, unde laboris

  plus haurire mali est quam ex re decerpere fructus.

  nec magis huic, inter niveos viridisque lapillos 80

  sit licet, hoc, Cerinthe, tuum tenerum est femur aut crus

  rectius, atque etiam melius persaepe togatae.

  adde huc, quod mercem sine fucis gestat, aperte

  quod venale habet ostendit nec, siquid honesti est,

  iactat habetque palam, quaerit, quo turpia celet. 85

  regibus hic mos est, ubi equos mercantur: opertos

  inspiciunt, ne si facies, ut saepe, decora

  molli fulta pede est, emptorem inducat hiantem,

  quod pulcrae clunes, breve quod caput, ardua cervix.

 

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