The Satires of Horace and Persius

by Horace

  50 with her buttocks the horse on whose stomach she is riding. I wave her good-bye

  without incurring disgrace or feeling any concern

  that someone richer or more handsome may be using the same receptacle.

  Whereas you tear off the badges of your rank – your knight’s ring

  and your Roman clothes, changing from a judge to a common slave,

  and hiding your scented hair with a hood. Then aren’t you in fact

  the very thing you pretend to be? You walk nervously in,

  and your whole body trembles as fear struggles with lust.

  What matter whether you’re handed over to be seared with the birch

  and killed with the sword, or whether you’re bundled into a box

  60 by a maid abetting her mistress’ sin and forced to cower there

  with your head stuffed between your knees? The injured husband

  has a right to take revenge on both the guilty parties,

  but especially on the seducer. (The wife, after all, doesn’t change

  her clothes or her rank, nor does she actually inflict the crime.)

  When the woman is apprehensive and doesn’t trust your affections,

  will you walk deliberately under the yoke, consigning your goods

  plus body, reputation, and life to that frenzied master within?

  You’ve escaped. I suppose you’ll have learnt to be cautious and careful in future.

  No. You’ll look for another chance of terror and ruin.

  70 You inveterate slave! Is any animal so degenerate

  that, after breaking free, it crawls back to its chains?

  ‘“I’m not an adulterer,” you say. No, nor am I a thief

  when I studiously ignore your silver; but remove the danger, and nature

  will bound forward with the reins off and go on the rampage.

  Are you my master, you who submit to other men’s orders

  and the constant pressure of affairs? However often you are touched

  by the rod, it will never free you from the fear which is so degrading.

  A further point – and no less cogent: a man who takes orders

  from a slave may be called a sub-slave, as he is in servants’ parlance,

  80 or a fellow-slave; at any rate, isn’t that what I am to you?

  For although you dictate to me, you cringe to another master.

  You are jerked like a wooden puppet by somebody else’s strings.

  ‘Who then is free? The wise man who is master of himself,

  who remains undaunted in the face of poverty, chains and death,

  who stubbornly defies his passions and despises positions of power,

  a man complete in himself, smooth and round, who prevents

  extraneous elements clinging to his polished surface, who is such

  that when Fortune attacks him she maims only herself. Can you

  lay claim to a single one of these qualities? A woman demands

  90 a small fortune, bullies you, slams the door, saturates you

  with cold water – and invites you back. Tear that degrading

  yoke from your neck! Come on, say you are free! You can’t.

  For a cruel master is riding your soul, jabbing the spurs

  in your weary flanks, and hauling round your head when you shy.

  ‘When, like an idiot, you are entranced by a decadent Pausias,

  how are you less at fault than I, when with straining hamstrings

  I gaze in wonder at the duels of Fulvius or Pácideiánus

  or Rútuba, drawn in charcoal or red ochre as if

  the men were actually fighting and flashing their weapons to strike

  100 and parry? Davus is a useless layabout, but you, of course,

  are known as an astute and discerning judge of the old masters.

  ‘I’m trash if I follow the whiff of a cake. Do you

  with your lofty mind and character refuse sumptuous dinners?

  Why does it do more harm to me to be the slave of my belly?

  I suppose because I get walloped. But do you come off more lightly

  when you reach for goodies which can’t be had at a reasonable price?

  The fact is that an endless series of banquets acidifies,

  and the poor overtaxed legs refuse to support the bloated

  body. If a slave-boy is guilty when he steals a scraper and swaps it

  110 at dusk for some grapes, what of the man who sells estates

  at the behest of his gullet? Is there nothing servile about him? Moreover,

  you can’t stand so much as an hour of your own company

  or spend your leisure properly; you avoid yourself like a truant

  or fugitive, hoping by drink or sleep to elude Angst.

  But it’s no good, for that dark companion stays on your heels.’

  ‘Quick, get me a stone.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Where are my arrows?’

  ‘The man’s delirious – or composing poetry!’

  If you don’t get to hell

  out of here, you’ll end up as drudge number nine on my Sabine farm!’

  SATIRE 8

  Fundanius, a comic poet and a friend of Horace (cf. I. 10. 41), describes a dinner-party given for Maecenas and his friends by the rich parvenu Nasidienus Rufus. Palmer (pp. 368–9) argues for the theory that the figure of Nasidienus is based on memories of Salvidienus Rufus, who after a meteoric career had been executed six or more years earlier (Velleius II. 76. 4). But there is no evidence that Salvidienus was a gourmet, and he could hardly have been such a fool as the host described by Horace. So it is safer to suppose that the occasion is fictitious, though men of Nasidienus’ type would not have been hard to find.

  In a Roman dining-room the guests reclined on couches on three sides of a square. The meal was served from the fourth side. The seating arrangements described by Horace should be imagined as follows:

  How did you enjoy your swell party chez Násidieénus?

  Yesterday I was trying to get you to dine with me, but was told

  you’d been drinking there since midday.

  ‘I’ve never had such a time

  in all my life.’

  Well tell us then, if you’ve no objection,

  what was the first dish to appease your raging bellies?

  ‘First there was a boar from Lucania, which our gracious host kept telling us

  was caught in a soft southerly breeze. It was garnished with things

  that stimulate a jaded appetite – lettuces, spicey turnips,

  radishes, skirret, fish-pickle, and the lees of Coan wine.

  10 When this was cleared away, a boy in a brief tunic

  wiped the maple table with a crimson cloth, while another

  swept up scraps and anything else that might annoy

  the guests. Then, like an Attic maiden bearing the holy

  emblems of Ceres, in came the dark Hydaspes carrying

  Caecuban wine, followed by Alcon with unsalted Chian.

  Then his lordship said. “If you prefer Falernian or Alban

  to what has been served, Maecenas, we do have both varieties.” ’

  It’s a terrible thing to have money! But do tell me Fundanius,

  who were your fellow guests on this magnificent occasion?

  20 ‘I was at the top, with Viscus from Thurii next; below,

  if I remember rightly, was Varius. On the middle couch was Vibídius

  with Servilius Bálatro – two ‘shadows’ who had come with Maecenas.

  Our host had Nomentánus above him and Hogg below.

  The latter amused us by swallowing whole cakes at a time.

  Nomentanus was deputed to point out features that might have

  escaped attention. For the uninitiated mob (that is,

  the rest of us) were eating fowl, oysters and fish that contained

  a flavour totally different from anything we had known before.


  This became clear at once when Nomentánus offered me

  30 fillets of plaice and turbot which I hadn’t previously tasted.

  He then informed me that the apples were red because they’d been picked

  by a waning moon. If you wonder what difference that makes, you’d better

  ask the man himself.

  Vibídius turned to Bálatro:

  “If we don’t drink him out of house and home we’ll die in vain.”

  And he called for larger tankards. At this a ghastly pallor

  appeared on the host’s face; he detested strenuous drinkers,

  whether because their scurrilous humour gets out of hand

  or because a fiery wine dulls the palate’s edge.

  Vibídius and Bálatro proceeded to tip whole jug-fulls of wine

  40 into mugs of the type made in Allífae. The rest followed suit

  except for the host’s clients, who refrained from hitting the bottle.

  ‘Then a lamprey arrived, stretched on a dish, with prawns swimming

  around it, at which his lordship remarked “This one was caught

  while she was pregnant; after spawning the flesh is inferior.

  The sauce has the following ingredients: Venafran oil (the first

  pressing of course), liquamen (from the guts of the Spanish mackerel),

  wine that is five years old, but grown in Italy (this

  to be added in the course of boiling; after boiling, Chian

  is better than anything else), white pepper, and one mustn’t

  50 forget the vinegar, made from fermented Methymnean grape.

  I pioneered the practice of boiling sharp elecampane

  and green rockets with the sauce. Curtillus uses sea-urchins –

  unwashed, for the liquor provided by the shell-fish is better than brine.”

  ‘As he spoke, the awning suspended above collapsed on the dish,

  wreaking appalling havoc, spreading loftier clouds

  of black dust than Boreas raises on Campanian acres.

  We feared worse, but on finding there was no danger we emerged.

  There was Rufus, his head in his hands, weeping as if

  his son had perished young. How would it all have ended

  60 if that philosopher Nomentanus hadn’t succeeded

  in pulling his friend together: “Shame on you Lady Luck!

  No other god is so cruel. What pleasure you get from mocking

  the plans of men!”

  Varius struggled to stifle his laughter

  with a napkin. Bálatro, who turns up his nose at everything, said

  “This is the law which governs life. So it is

  that your best efforts will never achieve the fame they deserve.

  To think that, just to regale me, you should be plagued

  and tormented with worry, in case the bread should be over-baked

  or the sauce be served without proper seasoning, and that all your boys

  70 should be properly dressed and neatly groomed for waiting at table.

  To say nothing of other hazards – like the canopy falling

  as it did just now, or an oaf tripping and smashing a dish.

  But as with a general so with a host: adverse fortune

  has a way of revealing his genius; good fortune obscures it.”

  ‘Násidiénus answered “May heaven send you all

  the blessings you pray for! You’re a fine man and a courteous guest!”

  And he called for his slippers. Then on every couch heads could be seen

  leaning forward to ears, and a buzz of whispering arose.’

  80 I’d love to have seen it. It all sounds like first-rate slapstick.

  Anyhow, go on. What was the next laugh?

  ‘Vibídius

  wasn’t getting the drinks he ordered, so he asked the servants

  if the jug was broken as well. We were making jokes to provide

  an excuse for our laughter, with Bálatro egging us on, when behold

  Násidiénus re-enters wearing the face of a man

  resolved to retrieve disaster by inspired improvisation.

  Behind come servants carrying a huge dish with a crane

  (a male, ready-carved, liberally sprinkled with salt and meal),

  the liver of a white female goose fattened on figs,

  and hare’s wings on their own (allegedly nicer thus

  90 than if you eat them with the back). Then we saw blackbirds served

  with breasts slightly charred and pigeons minus their rumps –

  tasty things if only our host hadn’t insisted

  on giving a lecture on their causes and properties. We paid him back

  by getting away without tasting a thing, as if the banquet

  had been blighted by Canidia, whose breath is more deadly than an African snake’s.’

  HORACE

  Epistles

  BOOK I

  EPISTLE 1

  After claiming to give up lyric poetry, Horace turns to questions of moral philosophy.

  Named by my earliest Muse and duly named by my last –

  Maecenas, I have been tested enough and have now received

  my foil. Are you trying to put me back in the old school?

  My age and keenness are not what they were. Having hung his weapons

  on Hercules’ door, Veianius is lying low in the country

  for fear he might have to plead again and again for discharge

  from the edge of the sand. A voice whispers in my well-rinsed ear:

  ‘Have some sense and release the ageing horse in time,

  or he’ll end by stumbling and straining his flanks to the jeers of the crowd.’

  10 So now I am laying aside my verses and other amusements.

  My sole concern is the question ‘What is right and proper?’

  I’m carefully storing things for use in the days ahead.

  In case you wonder whom I follow and where I’m residing,

  I don’t feel bound to swear obedience to any master.

  Where the storm drives me I put ashore and look for shelter.

  Now I’m a man of action and plunge into civic affairs,

  doing my highest duty with stern and selfless devotion;

  now I slip quietly back to the rules of Aristippus, attempting

  to induce things to conform to me, not vice versa.

  20 It’s a long night for a man when his girl-friend breaks her promise,

  a long day for those who must hire their labour; the year

  drags for orphan boys in the strict care of their mothers.

  For me any time at all is tedious and unrewarding

  if it hinders my hopes and plans for following that pursuit

  which brings an equal advantage to rich and poor alike,

  whereas its neglect will harm young and old alike.

  For the present I’ll find support and comfort in the rules below.

  (You might not be able to rival Lynceus in length of vision,

  but that wouldn’t make you refuse a salve if your eyes were sore.

  30 You’ll never enjoy the physique of Glyco the champion athlete,

  but you’d still want to keep your body free from the knots of gout.

  We can all make some progress, in spite of our limitations.)

  Suppose your heart is inflamed with greed and wretched craving,

  words and sayings exist by which you can soothe the pain

  and, to a large extent, get rid of the ailment. Or are you

  swollen with ambition? Certain procedures are sure to help you:

  read the booklet three times with a pure heart.

  Whether he’s envious, choleric, indolent, drunken or lustful –

  no one is so unruly that he can’t become more gentle,

  40 if only he listens with care to what his trainer tells him.

  Virtue’s first rule is ‘avoid vice’, and wisdom’s

  ‘get rid
of folly’. Think of the mental effort and physical

  risk involved in shunning what you regard as the worst

  of evils – slender assets and the shame of a lost election.

  You never cease – dashing away to India on business,

  keeping ahead of poverty through ocean, rock and flame.

  Why not trust one wiser than yourself? Listen and learn.

  Stop caring for the things you foolishly gaze at and long for.

  What wrestler at the village sports and crossroad fairs

  50 would refuse the great Olympic prize if given the prospect,

  and indeed the offer, of the palm’s glory without the dust?

  Silver is lower than gold in value, gold than goodness.

  ‘Citizens, citizens, the first thing to acquire is money.

  Cash before conscience!’ This is propounded from end to end

  of Janus’ arcade, a lesson recited by young and old

  (swinging satchel and writing box from the left arm).

  Suppose you’ve gifts of mind and character, fluent and loyal,

  but are six or seven thousand short of the great four hundred:

  you’ll be one of the throng. But the children chant ‘You will be king

  60 if you do the right thing.’ So let this be your wall of brass:

  to have nothing on your conscience, nothing to give you a guilty pallor.

  Tell me, is Roscius’ law above the children’s jingle

  which offers the title of king to those who ‘do the right thing’ –

  a jingle repeated by the men of old, like Curius and Camillus?

  Who gives the better advice, the man who says ‘make money –

  if you can, honestly; if not, make it by hook or by crook’,

  to get a closer view of Pupius’ doleful dramas,

  or the one who, giving you practical help and advice, equips you

  to stand up straight and free and defy the frown of Fortune?

  70 So if the people of Rome should happen to ask me why

  I share the same colonnades but not the same opinions,

  and why I refuse to follow them in all their likes and aversions,

  I shall give the same answer as the wary fox in the fable

  returned to the sick lion: ‘because those footprints scare me;

  all of them lead in your direction, none of them back’.

  You are like a many-headed beast. What should I follow, or whom?

  Some men are eager to secure public contracts, while others