That one man sometimes is more shrewdThan a stupendous multitude,To after-times I shall rehearseIn my concise familiar verse.A certain man on his decease,Left his three girls so much a-piece:The first was beautiful and frail,With eyes still hunting for the male;The second giv'n to spin and card,A country housewife working hard;The third but very ill to pass,A homely slut, that loved her glas.The dying man had left his wifeExecutrix, and for her lifeSole tenant, if she should fulfilThese strange provisos of his will:" That she should give th' estate in feeIn equal portions to the three;But in such sort, that this bequestShould not be holden or possess'd;Then soon as they should be bereav'nOf all the substance that was giv'n,They must for their good mother's easeMake up an hundred sesterces."This spread through Athens in a trice;The prudent widow takes advice.But not a lawyer could unfoldHow they should neither have nor holdThe very things that they were left.Besides, when once they were bereft,How they from nothing should conferThe money that was due to her.When a long time was spent in vain,And no one could the will explain,She left the counsellors unfeed,And thus of her own self decreed:The minstrels, trinkets, plate, and dres,She gave the Lady to possess.Then Mrs. Notable she stocksWith all the fields, the kine and flocks:The workmen, farm, with a supplyOf all the tools of husbandry.Last, to the Guzzler she consignsThe cellar stored with good old wine,A handsome house to see a friend,With pleasant gardens at the end.Thus as she strove th' affair to close,By giving each the things they chose,And those that knew them every oneHighly applauded what was doneEsop arose, and thus address'dThe crowd that to his presence pressed:"O that the dead could yet perceive!How would the prudent father grieve,That all th' Athenians had not skillEnough to understand his will!Then at their joint request he solvedThat error, which had all involved." The gardens, house, and wine vaults too,Give to the spinster as her due;The clothes, the jewels, and such ware,Be all the tippling lady's share;The fields, the barns, and flocks of sheep,Give the gay courtesan to keep.Not one will bear the very touchOf things that thwart their tastes so much 'The slut to fill her cellar straightHer wardrobe will evacuate;The lady soon will sell her farms,For garments to set off her charms;But she that loves the flocks and kineWill alienate her stores of wine,Her rustic genius to employ.Thus none their portions shall enjoy,And from the money each has madeTheir mother shall be duly paid."Thus one man by his wit disclosedThe point that had so many posed.
Plus esse in uno saepe quam in turba boni,Narratione posteris tradam brevi.Quidam decedens tres reliquit filias:Unam formosam et oculis venantem viros;At alteram lanificam et frugi rusticam;Devotam vino tertiam et turpissimam.Harum autem matrem fecit heredem senexSub condicione totam ut fortunam tribusAequaliter distribuat, sed tali modo:Ni data possideant aut fruantur; tum: simulHabere res desierint, quas acceperint,Centena matri conferant sestertia.Athenas rumor implet. Mater sedulaIuris peritos consulit; nemo expeditQuo pacto non possideant, quod fuerit datum,Fructumve capiant; deinde quae tulerint nihil,Quanam ratione conferant pecuniam.Postquam consumpta est temporis longi mora,Nec testamenti potuit sensus colligi,Fidem advocavit iure neglecto parens.Seponit moechae vestem, mundum muliebrem,Lavationem argenteam, eunuchos, glabros;Lanificae agellos, pecora, villam, operarios,Boves, iumenta et instrumentum rusticum;Potrici plenam antiquis apothecam cadis,Domum politam et delicatos hortulos.Sic destinata dare cum vellet singulisEt approbaret populus, qui illas noverat,Aesopus media subito in turba constitit:O si maneret condito sensus patri,Quam graviter ferret, quod voluntatem suamInterpretari non potuissent Attici!Rogatus deinde solvit errorem omnium:Domum et ornamenta cum venustis hortulisEt vina vetera date lanificae rusticae;Vestem, uniones, pedisequos et ceteraIlli assignate vitam quae luxu trahit;Agros, buvile et pecora cum pastoribusDonate moechae. Nulla poterit perpeti,Ut moribus quid teneat alienum suis.Deformis cultum vendet ut vinum paret;Agros abiciet moecha ut ornatum gerat;At illa gaudens pecore et lanae deditaQuacumque summa tradet luxuriae domum.Sic nulla possidebit quod fuerit datum,Et dictam matri conferent pecuniamEx pretio rerum quas vendiderint singulae.Ita quod multorum fugit imprudentiamUnius hominis repperit sollertia.
The routed Mice upon a dayFled from the Weasels in array;But in the hurry of the flight,What with their weakness and their frightEach scarce could get into his cave:Howe'er, at last their lives they save.But their commanders (who had tiedHorns to their heads in martial pride,Which as a signal they design'dFor non-commission'd mice to mind)Stick in the entrance as they go,And there are taken by the foe,Who, greedy of the victim, glutsWith mouse-flesh his ungodly guts.Each great and national distressMust chiefly mighty men oppress;While folks subordinate and poorAre by their littleness secure.
Cum victi mures mustelarum exercitu(Historia quorum et in tabernis pingitur)Fugerent et artos circum trepidarent cavos,Aegre recepti tamen evaserunt necem.Duces eorum, qui capitibus cornuaSuis ligarant, ut conspicuum in proelioHaberent signum quod sequerentur milites,Haesere in portis suntque capti ab hostibus;Quos immolatos victor avidis dentibusCapacis alvi mersit tartareo specu.Quemcumque populum tristis eventus premit,Periclitatur magnitudo principum;Minuta plebes facili praesidio latet.
Thou that against my tales inveigh'st,As much too pleasant for thy taste;Egregious critic, cease to scoffWhile for a time I play you off,And strive to soothe your puny rage.As Esop comes upon the stage,And dress'd entirely new in Rome,Thus enters with the tragic plume.-" O that the fair Thessalian pineHad never felt the wrath divine,And fearless of the axe's wound,Had still the Pelian mountain crown'd!That Argus by Palladian aidHad ne'er the adventurous vessel made;In which at first, without dismay,Death's bold professors won their way,In which th' inhospitable mainWas first laid open for the baneOf Grecians and barbarians too.Which made the proud AEetas rue,And whence Medea's crimes to noughtThe house and reign of Pelias brought.She-while in various forms she triesHer furious spirit to disguise,At one place in her flight bestow'dHer brother's limbs upon the road;And at another could betrayThe daughters their own sire to slay.How think you now?-What arrant trashAnd our assertions much too rash!-Since prior to th' AEgean fleetDid Minos piracy defeat,And made adventures on the sea.How then shall you and I agree?Since, stern as Cato's self, you hateAll tales alike, both small and great.Plague not too much the man of parts;For he that does it surely smarts.-This threat is to the fools, that squeamAt every thing of good esteem;And that they may to taste pretend,Ev'n heaven itself will discommend.
Tu qui, nasute, scripta destringis meaEt hoc iocorum legere fastidis genus,Parva libellum sustine patientia,Severitatem frontis dum placo tuaeEt in cothurnis prodit Aesopus novis.Utinam nec umquam Pelii nemoris iugoPinus bipenni concidisset Thessala,Nec ad professae mortis audacem viamFabricasset Argus opere Palladio ratem,Inhospitalis prima quae ponti sinusPatefecit in perniciem Graium et barbarum!Namque et superbi luget Aeetae domus,Et regna Peliae scelere Medeae iacent,Quae saevum ingenium variis involvens modisIllic per artus fratris explicuit fugam,Hic caede patris Peliadum infecit manus.Quid tibi videtur? Hoc quoque insulsum est aitFalsoque dictum; longe quia vetustiorAegaea Minos classe perdomuit fretaIustoque vindicavit exemplo impetum.Quid ergo possum facere tibi, lector Cato,Si nec fabellae te iuvant nec fabulae?Noli molestus esse omnino litteris,Maiorem exhibeant ne tibi molestiam.Hoc illis dictum est, qui stultitia nauseantEt ut putentur sapere caelum vituperant.
He that a greater biter bites,His folly on himself requites,As we shall manifest forthwith.-There was a hovel of a smith,Where a poor Viper chanced to steal,And being greedy of a meal,When she had seized upon a file,Was answer'd in this rugged style:" Why do you think, 0 stupid snake!On me your usual meal to make,Who've sharper teeth than thine by far,And can corrode an iron bar?"
Mordaciorem qui improbo dente appetitHoc argumento se describi sentiat.In officinam fabri venit vipera.Haec cum temptaret si qua res esset cibi,Limam momordit. Illa contra contumax:Quid me inquit stulta, dente captas laedere,Omne assuevi ferrum quae corrodere?
A crafty knave will make escape,When once he gets into a scrape,Still meditating self-defence,At any other man's expense.A Fox by some disaster fellInto a deep and fenced well:A thirsty Goat came down in haste,And ask'd about the water's taste,If it was plentiful and sweet?At which the Fox, in rank deceit," So great the solace of the run,I thought I never should have done.Be quick, my friend, your sorrows drown,"This said, the silly Goat comes down.The subtle Fox herself avails,And by his horns the mound she scales,And leaves the Goat in all the mire,To gratify his heart's desire.
Homo in periclum simul ac venit callidus,Reperire effugium quaerit alterius malo.Cum decidisset vulpes in puteum insciaEt altiore clauderetur margine,Devenit hircus sitiens in eundem locum;Simul rogavit esset an dulcis liquorEt copiosus. Illa fraudem moliens:Descende, amice; tanta bonitas est aquaeVoluptas ut satiari non possit mea.Immisit se barbatus. Tum vulpeculaEvasit puteo nixa celsis cornibus,Hircumque clauso liquit haerentem vado.
Great Jove, in his paternal care,Has giv'n a man two Bags to bear;That which his own default containsBehind his back unseen remains;But that which others' vice attestsSwags full in view before our breasts.Hence we're inevitably blind,Relating to the Bag behind;But when our neighbours misdemean,Our censures are exceeding keen.
Peras imposuit Iuppiter nobis duas:Propriis repletam vitiis post tergum dedit,Alienis ante pectus suspendit gravem.Hac re videre nostra mala non possumus;Alii simul delinquunt, censores sumus.
A villain to Jove's altar cameTo light his candle in the flame,And robb'd the god in dead of night,By his own consecrated light:Then thus an awful voice was sent,As with the sacrilege he went:"Though all this gold and silver plateAs gifts of evil men I hate;And their removal from the faneCan cause the Deity no pain;Yet, caitiff, at th' appointed timeThy life shall answer for thy crime.But, for the future, lest this blaLe,At which the pious pray and praise,Should guide the wicked, I decreeThat no such intercourse there be."Hence to this day all men declineTo light their candle at the shrine;Nor from a candle e'er presumeThe holy light to re-illume.How many things are here contained,By him alone can be explain'dWho could this useful tale invent.In the first place, herein is meant,That they are often most your foesWho from your fost'ring hand arose.Next, that the harden'd villain's fateIs not from wrath precipitate,But rather at a destined hour.Lastly, we're charg'd with all our pow'r,To keep ourselves, by care intense,From all connexions with offence.
Lucernam fur accendit ex ara IovisIpsumque compilavit ad lumen suum.Onustus qui sacrilegio cum discederet,Repente vocem sancta misit Religio:Malorum quamvis ista fuerint muneraMihique invisa, ut non offendar surripi,Tamen, sceleste, spiritu culpam lues,Olim cum ascriptus venerit poenae dies.Sed ne ignis noster facinori praeluceat,Per quem verendos excolit pietas deos,Veto esse tale luminis commercium.Itaque hodie nec lucernam de flamma deumNec de lucerna fas est accendi sacrum.Quot res contineat hoc argumentum utiles,Non explicabit alius quam qui repperit.Significat primo saepe quos ipse alueris,Tibi inveniri maxime contrarios;Secundum ostendit scelera non ira deum,Fatorum dicto sed puniri tempore;Novissime interdicit ne cum maleficoUsum bonus consociet ullius rei.
Wealth by the brave is justly scorn'd,Since men are from the truth suborn'd,And a full chest perverts their waysFrom giving or deserving praise.When Hercules, for matchless worth,Was taken up to heav'n from earth,As in their turns to all the crowdOf gratulating gods he bow'd,When Plutus, Fortune's son, he spies,He from his face averts his eyes.Jove ask'd the cause of this disgust:"I hate him, as he is unjust,To wicked men the most inclined,And grand corrupter of mankind."
Opes invisae merito sunt forti viro,Quia dives arca veram laudem intercipit.Caelo receptus propter virtutem HerculesCum gratulantes persalutasset deos,Veniente Pluto, qui Fortunae est filius,Avertit oculos. Causam quaesivit pater.Odi inquit illum, quia malis amicus estSimulque obiecto cuncta corrumpit lucro.
Not here translated Not here translated Not here translatedWhen the She-Goats from Jove obtain'dA beard, th' indignant Males complain'd,That females by this near approachWould on their gravity encroach."Suffer, my sapient friends," says he,"Their eminence in this degree,And bear their beard's most graceful length,As they can never have your strength."Warn'd by this little tale, agreeWith men in gen'ral form'd like theeWhile you by virtue still exceed,And in the spirit take the lead.On hearing a poor man lamentHis worldly thoughts in discontent,Esop this tale began to write,For consolation and delight.The ship by furious tempests tossed,The Mariners gave all for lost;But midst their tears and dread, the sceneIs changed at once, and all serene.The wind is fair, the vessel speeds,The Sailors' boisterous joy exceeds:The Pilot then, by peril wise,Was prompted to philosophise."'Tis right to put a due restraintOn joy, and to retard complaint,Because alternate hope and frightMake up our lives of black and white."
Utilius homini nihil est quam recte loqui:Probanda cunctis est quidem sententia,Sed ad perniciem solet agi sinceritas.Cum se ferarum regem fecissit leoEt aequitatis vellet famam consequi,A pristina deflexit consuetudineAtque inter illas tenui contentus ciboSancta incorrupta iura reddebat fide.Postquam labare coepit paenitentia,……A fictione veretri linguam mulieris.Affinitatem traxit inde obscenitas.Rogavit alter, tribadas et molles maresQuae ratio procreasset. Exposuit senex:Idem Prometheus, auctor vulgi fictilisQui simul offendit ad fortunam frangitur,Naturae partis veste quas celat pudor,Cum separatim toto finxisset die,Aptare mox ut posset corporibus suis,Ad cenam est invitatus subito a Libero.Ubi irrigatus multo venas nectare,Sero domum est reversus titubanti pede.Tum semisomno corde et errore ebrioApplicuit virginale generi masculoEt masculina membra applicuit feminis.Ita nunc libido pravo fruitur gaudio.Barbam capellae cum impetrassent ab Iove,Hirci maerentes indignari coeperuntQuod dignitatem feminae aequassent suam.Sinite inquit illas gloria vana fruiEt usurpare vestri ornatum muneris,Pares dum non sint vestrae fortitudinis.Hoc argumentum monet ut sustineas tibiHabitu esse similes qui sint virtute impares.Cum de fortunis quidam quereretur suis,Aesopus finxit consolandi gratia:Vexata saevis navis tempestatibus,Inter vectorum lacrimas et mortis metumFaciem ad serenam subito ut mutatur dies,Ferri secundis tuta coepit flatibusNimiaque nautas hilaritate extollere.Factus periclis tum gubernator sophus:Parce gaudere oportet et sensim queri,Totam aeque vitam miscet dolor et gaudium.
Not here translatedHe, that malicious men relieves,His folly in a season grieves.A Man, against himself humane,Took up an Adder, that had lainAnd stiffen'd in the frosty air,And in his bosom placed with care,Where she with speed recovering breath,Her benefactor stung to death.Another Adder near the place,On asking why she was so base,Was told, " 'Tis others to dissuadeFrom giving wickedness their aid."A Fox was throwing up the soil,And while with his assiduous toilHe burrow'd deep into the ground,A Dragon in his den he found,A-watching hidden treasure there,Whom seeing, Renard speaks him fair:" First, for your pardon I applyFor breaking on your privacy;Then, as you very plainly seeThat gold is of no use to me,Your gentle leave let me obtainTo ask you, what can be the gainOf all this care, and what the fruit,That you should not with sleep recruitYour spirits, but your life consumeThus in an everlasting gloom?""'Tis not my profit here to stay,"He cries; " but I must Jove obey.""What! will you therefore nothing takeYourself, nor others welcome make?""Ev'n so the fates decree." - "Then, sir,Have patience, whilst I do averThat he who like affections knowsIs born with all the gods his foes.Since to that place you needs must speed,Where all your ancestors precede,Why in the blindness of your heartDo you torment your noble part?"All this to thee do I indite,Thou grudging churl, thy heir's delight,Who robb'st the gods of incense due,Thyself of food and raiment too;Who hear'st the harp with sullen mien,To whom the piper gives the spleen;Who'rt full of heavy groans and sighsWhen in their price provisions rise;Who with thy frauds heaven's patience tireTo make thy heap a little higher,And, lest death thank thee, in thy willHast tax'd the undertaker's bill.
Canes legatos olim misere ad IovemMelioris vitae tempus oratum suae,Ut sese eriperet hominum contumeliis,Furfuribus sibi consparsum quod panem darentFimoque turpi maximam explerent famem.Profecti sunt legati non celeri pede.Dum naribus scrutantur escam in stercore,Citati non respondent. Vix tandem invenitEos Mercurius et turbatos attrahit.Tum vero vultum magni ut viderunt Iovis,Totam timentes concacarunt regiam;Propulsi vero fustibus vadunt foras.Vetat dimitti magnus illos Iuppiter.Mirati sibi legatos non revertier,Turpe aestimantes aliquid commissum a suis,Post aliquod tempus alios ascribi iubent.Rumor legatos superiores prodidit.Timentes rursus aliquid ne simile accidat,Odore canibus anum, sed multo, replent.Mandata dantur et dimittuntur statim.Adeunt. Rogantes aditum continuo impetrant.Consedit genitor tum deorum maximusQuassatque fulmen: tremere coepere omnia.Canes, confusus subito quod fuerat fragor,Repente odorem mixtum cum merdis cacant.Reclamant omnes vindicandam iniuriam.Sic est locutus ante poenam Iuppiter:Legatos non est regis non dimittere,Nec est difficile poenas culpae imponere;Sed hoc feretis pro iudicio praemium:Non veto dimitti, verum cruciari fame,Ne ventrem continere non possint suum.Illi autem qui miserunt vos tam futtilesNumquam carebunt hominis contumelia.Ita nunc legatos exspectant et posteriNovum et venire qui videt culum olfacit.Qui fert malis auxilium post tempus dolet.Gelu rigentem quidam colubram sustulitSinuque fovit contra se ipse misericors:Namque ut refecta est necuit hominem protinus.Hanc alia cum rogaret causam facinoris,Respondit: Ne quis discat prodesse improbis.Vulpes, cubile fodiens, dum terram eruitAgitque pluris altius cuniculos,Pervenit ad draconis speluncam ultimam,Custodiebat qui thesauros abditos.Hunc simul aspexit: Oro ut imprudentiaeDes primum veniam; deinde si pulchre vides,Quam non conveniens aurum sit vitae meae,Respondeas clementer. Quem fructum capisHoc ex labore, quodve tantum est praemiumUt careas somno et aevum in tenebris exigas?Nullum inquit ille verum hoc ab summo mihiIove attributum est. Ergo nec sumis tibiNec ulli donas quicquam? Sic fatis placet.Nolo irascaris, libere si dixero:Dis est iratis natus, qui est similis tibi.Abiturus illuc, quo priores abierunt,Quid mente caeca miserum torques spiritum?Tibi dico, avare, gaudium heredis tui,Qui ture superos, ipsum te fraudas cibo,Qui tristis audis musicum citharae sonum,Quem tibiarum macerat iucunditas,Obsoniorum pretia cui gemitum exprimunt,Qui dum quadrantes aggeras patrimonioCaelum fatigas sordido periurio,Qui circumcidis omnem impensam funeriLibitina ne quid de tuo faciat lucri.
What certain envious hearts intendI very clearly comprehend,Let them dissemble e'er so much.-.When they perceive the master's touch,And find 'tis likely to endure,They'll say 'tis Esop to be sure-But what appears of mean design,At any rate they'll vouch for mine.These in a word I would refute:Whether of great or no repute,What sprung from Esop's fertile thoughtThis hand has to perfection brought;But waiving things to our distaste,Let's to the destined period haste.
Quid iudicare cogitet livor modo,Licet dissimulet, pulchre tamen intellego.Quicquid putabit esse dignum memoria,Aesopi dicet; si quid minus arriserit,A me contendet fictum quovis pignore.Quem volo refelli iam nunc responso meo:Sive hoc ineptum sive laudandum est opus,Invenit ille, nostra perfecit manus.Sed exsequamur coepti propositum ordinem.
A man, whose learned worth is known,Has always riches of his own.Simonides, who was the headOf lyric bards, yet wrote for bread,His circuit took through every townIn Asia of the first renown,The praise of heroes to rehearse,Who gave him money for his verse.When by this trade much wealth was earn'd,Homewards by shipping he return'd(A Cean born, as some suppose):On board he went, a tempest rose,Which shook th' old ship to that degree,She founder'd soon as out at sea.Some purses, some their jewels tieAbout them for a sure supply;But one more curious, ask'd the seer,"Poet, have you got nothing here?""My all," says he, "is what I am."-On this some few for safety swam(For most o'erburden'd by their goods,Were smother'd in the whelming floods).The spoilers came, the wealth demand,And leave them naked on the strand.It happen'd for the shipwreck'd crewAn ancient city was in view,By name Clazomena, in whichThere lived a scholar learned and rich,Who often read, his cares to ease,The verses of Simonides,And was a vast admirer grownOf this great poet, though unknown.Him by his converse when he traced,He with much heartiness embraced,And soon equipp'd the bard anew,With servants, clothes, and money tooThe rest benevolence implored,With case depicted on a board:Which when Simonides espied,"I plainly told you all," he cried,"That all my wealth was in myself;As for your chattels and your pelf.On which ye did so much depend,They're come to nothing in the end."
Homo doctus in se semper divitias habet.Simonides, qui scripsit egregium melos,Quo paupertatem sustineret facilius,Circum ire coepit urbes Asiae nobiles,Mercede accepta laudem victorum canens.Hoc genere quaestus postquam locuples factus est,Redire in patriam voluit cursu pelagio;Erat autem, ut aiunt, natus in Cia insula:Ascendit navem, quam tempestas horridaSimul et vetustas medio dissolvit mari.Hi zonas, illi res pretiosas colligunt,Subsidium vitae. Quidam curiosior:Simonide, tu ex opibus nil sumis tuis?Mecum inquit mea sunt cuncta. Tunc pauci enatant,Quia plures onere degravati perierant.Praedones adsunt, rapiunt, quod quisque extulit,Nudos relinquunt. Forte Clazomenae propeAntiqua fuit urbs, quam petierunt naufragi.Hic litterarum quidam studio deditus,Simonidis qui saepe versus legeratEratque absentis admirator maximus,Sermone ab ipso cognitum cupidissimeAd se recepit; veste, nummis, familiaHominem exornavit. Ceteri tabulam suamPortant rogantes victum. Quos casu obviosSimonides ut vidit: Dixi, inquit, meaMecum esse cuncta; vos quod rapuistis perit.
The Mountain labor'd, groaning loud,On which a num'rous gaping crowdOf noodles came to see the sight,When, lo! a mouse was brought to light!This tale 's for men of swagg'ring cast,Whose threats, voluminous and vast,With all their verse and all their prose,Can make but little on 't, God knows.
Mons parturibat, gemitus immanes ciens,Eratque in terris maxima exspectatio.At ille murem peperit. †Hoc scriptum est tibi,Qui, magna cum minaris, extricas nihil.
An Ant and Fly had sharp disputeWhich creature was of most repute;When thus began the flaunting Fly:"Are you so laudible as I?I, ere the sacrifice is carved,Precede the gods; first come, first served—Before the altar take my place,And in all temples show my face,Whene'er I please I set me downUpon the head that wears a crown.I with impunity can tasteThe kiss of matrons fair and chaste,And pleasure without labor claim-Say, trollop, canst thou do the same?""The feasts of gods are glorious fare,No doubt, to those who're welcome there;But not for such detested things.-You talk of matron's lips and kings;I, who with wakeful care and painsAgainst the winter hoard my grains,Thee feeding upon ordure view.-The altars you frequent, 'tis true;But still are driv'n away from thence,And elsewhere, as of much offence.A life of toil you will not lead,And so have nothing when you need.Besides all this, you talk with prideOf things that modesty should hide.You plague me here, while days increase,But when the winter comes you cease.Me, when the cold thy life bereaves,A plenteous magazine receives.I think I need no more advanceTo cure you of your arrogance."The tenor of this tale infersTwo very diff'rent characters;Of men self-praised and falsely vain,And men of real worth in grain.
Nihil agere quod non prosit fabella admonet.Formica et musca contendebant acriterQuae pluris esset. Musca sic coepit prior:Conferre nostris tu potes te laudibus?Moror inter aras, templa perlustro omnia,Ubi immolatur, exta praegusto deum.In capite regis sedeo cum visum est mihi,Et matronarum casta delibo oscula.Laboro nihil atque optimis rebus fruor.Quid horum simile tibi contingit, rustica?Est gloriosus sane convictus deum,Sed illi qui invitatur, non qui invisus est.Aras frequentas? nempe abigeris, quom venis.Reges commemoras et matronarum oscula?Super etiam iactas tegere quod debet pudor.Nihil laboras? ideo, cum opus est, nil habes.Ego granum in hiemem cum studiose congero,Te circa murum pasci video stercore.Aestate me lacessis; cum bruma est siles.Mori contractam cum te cogunt frigora,Me copiosa recipit incolumem domus.Satis profecto rettudi superbiam.Fabella talis hominum discernit notasEorum qui se falsis ornant laudibus,Et quorum virtus exhibet solidum decus.
Th' attention letters can engage,Ev'n from a base degenerate age,I've shown before; and now shall showTheir lustre in another view,And tell a memorable tale,How much they can with heav'n prevail,Simonides, the very sameWe lately had a call to name,Agreed for such a sum to blazeA certain famous champion's praise.He therefore a retirement sought,But found the theme on which he wroteSo scanty, he was forced to useTh' accustomed license of the muse,And introduced and praise bestow'dOn Leda's sons to raise his ode;With these the rather making free,As heroes in the same degree.He warranted his work, and yetCould but one third of payment get.Upon demanding all the due," Let them," says he, "pay t' other two,Who take two places in the song;But lest you think I do you wrongAnd part in dudgeon-I inviteYour company to sup this night,For then my friends and kin I see,'Mongst which I choose to reckon thee."Choused and chagrined, yet shunning blame,He promised, set the hour, and came;As fearful lest a favour spurn'dShould to an open breach be turn'd.The splendid banquet shone with plate,And preparations full of stateMade the glad house with clamors roar-When on a sudden at the doorTwo youths, with sweat and dust besmear'd,Above the human form appear'd,And charged forthwith a little scoutTo bid Simonides come out,That 'twas his interest not to stay.-The slave, in trouble and dismay,Roused from his seat the feasting bard,Who scarce had stirr'd a single yardBefore the room at once fell in,And crushed the champion and his kin.No youths before the door are found.-The thing soon spread the country round;And when each circumstance was weighed,They knew the gods that visit made,And saved the poet's life in lieuOf those two-thirds which yet were due.
Quantum valerent inter homines litterae,Dixi superius: quantus nunc illis honosA superis sit tributus tradam memoriae.Simonides idem ille de quo rettuli,Victori laudem cuidam pyctae ut scriberetCerto conduxit pretio, secretum petit.Exigua cum frenaret materia impetum,Usus poeta moris est licentiaAtque interposuit gemina Ledae sidera,Auctoritatem similis referens gloriae.Opus approbavit; sed mercedis tertiamAccepit partem. Cum reliquum posceret:Illi inquit reddent quorum sunt laudis duae.Verum ut ne irate te dimissum sentiant,Ad cenam mihi promitte; cognatos voloHodie invitare, quorum es in numero mihi.Fraudatus quamvis et dolens iniuria,Ne male dimissam gratiam corrumperet,Promisit. Rediit hora dicta, recubuit.Splendebat hilare poculis convivium,Magno apparatu laeta resonabat domus,Repente duo cum iuvenes sparsi pulvere,Sudore multo diffluentes corpora,Humanam supra formam, cuidam servuloMandant ut ad se provocet Simonidem;Illius interesse, ne faciat moram.Homo perturbatus excitat Simonidem.Unum promorat vix pedem triclinio,Ruina camerae subito oppressit ceteros;Nec ulli iuvenes sunt reperti ad ianuam.Ut est vulgatus ordo narratae rei,Omnes scierunt numinum praesentiamVati dedisse vitam mercedis loco.
I yet have stock in hand to spare,And could write on-but will forbear-First, lest I tire a friend, whose stateAnd avocations are so great:And then, if other pens should tryThis morals cheme as well as I,They may have something to pursue:—Yet if the spacious field we view,More men are wanting for the plan,Rather than matter for the man.Now for that prize I make my pleaYou promised to my brevity.Keep your kind word; for life, my friend,Is daily nearer to its end;And I shall share your love the lessThe longer you your hand repress:The sooner you the boon insure,The more the tenure must endure;And if I quick possession take,The greater profit must I make,While yet declining age subsists,A room for friendly aid exists.Anon with tasteless years grown weak,In vain benevolence will seekTo do me good-when Death at handShall come and urge his last demand.'Tis folly, you'll be apt to say,A thousand times to beg and prayOf one with so much worth and sense,Whose gen'rous bounty is propense.If e'er a miscreant succeeds,By fair confession of his deeds,An innocent offender's caseIs far more worthy of your grace.You for example sake begin,Then others to the lure you'll win,And in rotation more and moreWill soon communicate their stoic.Consider in your mind how farAt stake your word and honour are;And let your closing the debateBy what I may congratulate.I have been guilty of excessBeyond my thought in this addressBut 'tis not easy to refrainA spirit work'd up to disdainBy wretches insolent and vile,With a clear conscience all the while.You'll ask me, sir, at whom I hint-In time they may appear in print.But give me leave to cite a phraseI met with in my boyish days."'Tis dangerous for the mean and lowToo plain their grievances to show."This is advice I shall retainWhile life and sanity remain.WHEN I resolved my hand to stayFor this, that others might have play,On reconsidering of my partI soon recanted in my heart:For if a rival should arise,How can he possibly deviseThe things that I have let alone,Since each man's fancy is his own,And likewise colouring of the piece?"-It was not therefore mere caprice,But strong reflection made me write:Wherefore since you in tales delight,Which I, in justice, after all,Not Esop's, but Esopian call;Since he invented but a few;I more, and some entirely new,Keeping indeed the ancient style,With fresh materials all the while.As at your leisure you peruseThe fourth collection of my muse,That you may not be at a stand,A fifth shall shortly come to hand;'Gainst which, if as against the rest,Malignant cavillers protest,Let them carp on, and make it plainThey carp at what they can't attain.My fame's secure, since I can showHow men of eminence like youMy little book transcribe and quote,As like to live of classic note.It is th' ambition of my penTo win th' applause of learned men.If Esop's name at any timeI bring into this measured rhyme,To whom I've paid whate'er I owe,Let all men by these presents know.I with th' old fabulist make free,To strengthen my authority.As certain sculptors of the age,The more attention to engage,And raise their price, the curious please,By forging of Praxiteles;And in like manner they purloinA Myro to their silver coin.'Tis thus our fables we can smoke,As pictures for their age bespoke:For biting envy, in disgustTo new improvements, favors rust;But now a tale comes in of course,Which these assertions will enforce.Demetrius, who was justly call'dThe tyrant, got himself install'd,And held o'er Athens impious sway.The crowd, as ever is the way,Came, eager rushing far and wide,And, "Fortunate event!" they cried.The nobles came, the throne address'd'The hand by which they were oppress'dThey meekly kiss'd, with inward stingsOf anguish for the face of things.The idlers also, with the tribeOf those who to themselves prescribeTheir ease and pleasure, in the endCame sneaking, lest they should offend.Amongst this troop Menander hies,So famous for his comedies(Him, though he was not known by sight,The tyrant read with great delight,Struck with the genius of the bard.)In flowing robes bedaub'd with nard,And saunt'ring tread he came along,Whom, at the bottom of the throng,When Phalereus beheld, he said:" How dares that fribble show his headIn this our presence?" he was told-" It is Menander you behold."Then, changed at once from fierce to bland,He call'd, and took him by the hand.Two men equipp'd were on their way;One fearful; one without dismay,An able fencer. As they went,A robber came with black intent;Demanding, upon pain of death,Their gold and silver in a breath.At which the man of spirit drew,And instantly disarm'd and slewThe Thief, his honor to maintain.Soon as the rogue was fairly slain,The tim'rous chap began to puff,And drew his sword, and stripp'd in buff-"Leave me alone with him! stand back!I'll teach him whom he should attack."Then he who fought, " I wish, my friend,But now you'd had such words to lend;I might have been confirm'd the more,Supposing truth to all you swore;Then put your weapon in the sheath,And keep your tongue within your teeth,Though you may play an actor's partOn them who do not know your heart,I, who have seen this very dayHow lustily you ran away,Experience when one comes to blowsHow far your resolution goes."This narrative to those I tellWho stand their ground when all is well;But in the hour of pressing needAbash'd, most shamefully recede.
Adhuc supersunt multa quae possim loqui,Et copiosa abundat rerum varietas;Sed temperatae suaves sunt argutiae,Immodicae offendunt. Quare, vir sanctissime,Particulo, chartis nomen victurum meisLatinis dum manebit pretium litteris,Si non ingenium, certe brevitatem approba,Quae commendari tanto debet iustiusQuanto poetae sunt molesti validius.Aesopi nomen sicubi interposuero,Cui reddidi iam pridem quicquid debui,Auctoritatis esse scito gratia:Ut quidam artifices nostro faciunt saeculo,Qui pretium operibus maius inveniunt novis,Si marmori ascripserunt Praxitelen suo,Trito Myronem argento, tabulae Zeuxidem.Adeo fucatae plus vetustati favetInvidia mordax quam bonis praesentibus.Sed iam ad fabellam talis exempli feror.Demetrius qui dictus est Phalereus,Athenas occupavit imperio improbo.Ut mos est vulgi, passim et certatim ruit,"Feliciter!" succlamans. Ipsi principesIllam osculantur, qua sunt oppressi, manum,Tacite gementes tristem fortunae vicem.Quin etiam resides et sequentes otium,Ni defuisse noceat, repunt ultimi;In quis Menander, nobilis comoediisQuas, ipsum ignorans, legerat DemetriusEt admiratus fuerat ingenium viri,Unguento delibutus, vestitu fluens,Veniebat gressu delicato et languido.Hunc ubi tyrannus vidit extremo agmine:Quisnam cinaedus ille in conspectum meumAudet venire? Responderunt proximi:Hic est Menander scriptor. Mutatus statim:Homo inquit fieri non potest formosior.Duo cum incidissent in latronem milites,Unus profugit, alter autem restititEt vindicavit sese forti dextera.Latrone exciso timidus accurrit comesStringitque gladium, dein reiecta paenula:Cedo inquit illum; iam curabo sentiat,Quos attentarit. Tunc, qui depugnaverat:Vellem istis verbis saltem adiuvisses modo;Constantior fuissem vera existimans.Nunc conde ferrum et linguam pariter futtilem.Ut possis alios ignorantes fallere,Ego qui sum expertus quantis fugias viribus,Scio quam virtuti non sit credendum tuae.Illi assignari debet haec narratioQui re secunda fortis est, dubia fugax.