betime To morrow morning and appear for him The Scribes request that I would get your Ear About a public new and great Affair Another crys good Horace get this Bill Sign'd by Mecoenas If I can I will But he seems discontent and urges on Nay if you will I 'me sure it may be done 'T is eight Years since almost Mecoenas chose And made me a Retainer to his House Yet only such a One as free from Care He 'd sometimes take in 's Coach to take the Air Talk common Talk as how d' ye like the Play The Fencers were well matcht what news to day The Morning 's cold and we must have a Care And such like common Things as these appear That may be trusted in a leaky Ear. Hence every day Men envy more my State He at the Play with great Mecoenas sate Or Bowl'd cry all He 's Fortunes darling Son And thus the silly Chat runs o're the Town Then all that meet me come and ask the News My Patience and my pretious Time abuse Pray Sir For you so much at Court must know D' ye hear what News from warlike Dacia No. Come You 're a Wag. Pox take me if I do Pray Sir the Lands that Caesar vow'd to share Amongst the Souldiers to reward the War What must they be in Sicily or here When I profess my Ignorance Morose They all imagine me and plaguy close And thus I loose my days but wish repeat 3. Oh! When shall I enjoy my Country Seat Oh! when remov'd from noise to quiet Peace Amidst my learned Books my sleep and ease Whilst hours do smoothly flow and free from strife Forget the Troubles of a busy Life Oh Beans Pythagoras his nearest kin You lovely Herbs and most delicious Chine When shall I see when feed on you agen Oh sweet Oh heavenly Feasts where I and mine Before my houshold Gods securely dine When I my self shall tast a dish of meat Then give 't my wanton Slaves and bid 'em eat When all my Guests drink freely what they please No Glass is mark't or fill'd but more or less As mirth invites No drunken Laws to force And all the time is full of good discourse We talk of no Mans Farms or Wealth or Skill Or whether Caesar's Fool danc't well or ill But we discourse of what we ought to do And what 't is fault and folly not to know As whether Wealth or Vertue brings a Man To happiness or whether Leagues began From Interest or Right what cheats the Crowd And what is good and what the greatest Good 4. My Neighbor Gerrius as the Matter falls Mixes his merry pat instructive Tales And thus for Instance when by chance he hears Old Alpius wealth admir'd tho full of Cares He tells this Story Once upon a Time As Tales begin and in a moderate clime A Country Mouse a City entertain'd His old Acquaintance and his special Friend This Mouse was thrifty yet would kindly Feast When time requir'd and nobly treat his Guest In short now striving every way to please He freely brought his hoarded Oats and Pease His nibbled Bacon in his mouth he brings His Apples and a thousand pretty things His Nuts his Grapes well-dry'd and try'd his best By choice variety to please his Guest Who sate and as affraid to hurt his mouth Did nibble here and there with dainty Tooth Whilst he lys by in straw and Barley eats Or Chaff and leaves his Guest the better Meats At last the City Mouse begins My Friend Pray how can You delight how love to spend A Life in Woods and this unwholsome Cave 'T is Melancholy 't is so like a Grave Now would you rather live in Town than here And Mens converse before the Woods prefer Come go with me I 'le get thee better Chear Since all must dye and must resign their Breath Nor great nor little is secure from Death Then spend thy days in Pleasure Mirth and Sport And live like One that Minds his Life is short These Words prevail'd upon the Country Mouse So she grows jocand strait and leaves the House Longing for those fine things fō both go on Eager whilst now 't was Night to reach the Town 'T was Midnight full when now the Mice are com◠They take a Rich Mans house a stately Room Where Purple Covering shone on Ivory Seats And in the Pantry lay whole heaps of Meats The sumptuous Relics of his noble treats The City Mouse strait seats his country Guest On Cloath of State and waits and carves the Feast Course after Course a thousand dainty Things And like a Servant tasts what e're he brings The Country Mouse pleas'd with his Bed of State And various dainties blest his change of Fate Feeds heartily when lo the Servants come And Dogs rush in and bark about the Room Both start both leave their Beds with eager hast Both fly for Life and hardly ' scape at last Then says the Country Mouse false Joys farewel I do not like this Life my quiet Cell Is better I can feast and wanton there On Chaff or Acorns free from Noise and Fear SATYR VII The Heads of the Seventh Satyr 1. A Servant instructs his Master about his unsettledness in humour 2. His Lust 3. The vicious Man the greatest Slave 1. WEll Sir I hear and have some News to tell But I 'me affraid you will not like it well From me your Slave Who Davus is it you Davus the faithful Servant and the true Davus that fancys that sufficient store Which nature wants supplies and ask no more Go to and as our Ancient Laws decree Use boldly thy December 's Liberty Speak fairly what thou wilt thou mayst be free Some Men are constant in their Vice and run The same Course still and urge their purpose on Some are unsteddy various in a Trice Now all for Vertue and now all for Vice Fop Priscus with himself doth disagree Sometimes he wears no Rings and sometimes three He changes every hour his Cloaths and Gown Now takes the best House now the worst in Town And there he goes as nasty as a Clown Now studies hard at Athens now does come And turns a great Gallant and whores at Rome The most unsteddy fickle Man on Earth As if Vertumnus self had rul'd his Birth Just opposite to him Vulturius stands For he when the just Gout had lam'd his hands Did hire a Boy so much he lov'd the Vice To take up for him and to throw the Dice He that is constant in his vicious race Runs the same Course and keeps an equal pace Is certainly not half so great a wretch As He that now rides loose and now on stretch Well now you Rogue suppose this railing true What doth it mean Sir it reflects on you How so you Rascal Sir you use to praise The Antients living and commend their ways Yet if some God would give you leave to choose Or force you to the like you would refuse ' Cause you don't think
make The Stoicks or Empedocles mistake Whatever Life you live or Fishes drest Or Leeks and Onions pill'd do make your Feast 2. Be kind let Pompey Grosphius be your Guest What he shall ask he 'll ask but little grant Friends are in small esteem where good Men want 3. But now to tell how Rome's Affairs stand Cantabria yields to stout Agrippa's hand Armenia Claudius Nero's Courage feels The haughty Parthian now to Caesar kneels And Golden plenty with a bounteous hand Rich Harvests freely scatters o're our Land EPISTLE XIII To his Friend Vinnius Asella about presenting his Books to Caesar ASI advis'd you oft before you went I beg Thee Vinnius now my Books present To Caesar Seal'd when vexing Cares are fled If well if merry if he asks to read Lest over-busie in thy kind designs You chose ill hours and make him hate my lines But if the Pack shall pinch Thee throw it down Refuse to bear it and the weight disown Rather than having past the tedious Road Thy Saddle shake and strive to cast the Load And thus make good thy Father's Ancient Name Be Ass indeed a publick talk and shame With all thy strength o're Lakes and Mountains run And when those Streights are past you reach the Town Take heed and what you bring disclose to none Be shy and cautious nor my Books proclaim Nor bear them as a Rustick would a Lamb Under thy Arm as if thy hands were full As drunken Pythia carries pilfer'd Wool As when invited to his Landlord's house A Country Tenant bears his Hat and Shoes Proclaim not that you sweat those Lines to bear Which will detain Great Caesar's Eyes and Ear Make all the hast my eager Wish requires Farewell take heed you Answer my desires EPISTLE XIV To his Steward that He preferrs the Country before the City and why YOu Steward of my Woods and pleasant Plain Which when I reach I am my self again Contemn'd by You tho it hath kept alone Five Ancient dwellers and is often known To send five Senators to Baria's Town Come now 't is Time let 's see which of the Two I from my Mind or from my Pastures You Can pluck Thorns best and which is better Till'd And which is better Horace or his Field Tho Lamia's Piety and mournful Care That weeps his Brother's Fate detains me here Yet still my Mind 's abroad my Soul doth strive To break the Bars and get free Room to live I praise the Country You the happy Town He that loves others States dislikes his own We blame the places both deceiv'd and Fools 'T is undeserv'd the fault is in our Souls Our Souls that are their own Companions still And groan beneath their Native load of ill In Town your wishes beg'd the Fields and Plain A Farmer now You ask the Town again I constant to my self part griev'd from home When hated business forces me to Rome We Two do very diff'rent Things admire We widely disagree in our desire What you call lonely Melancholly Seats A Man of my Opinion as he hates What you think fair accounts them fine retreats The Oyly Ord'narys the Stews do move Thy wishes for the Town they raise thy Love And ' cause my little Farm doth bear no Vine But Frankincense I see thy wild design No neighbouring Tavern there to sell thee Wine No wanton Songstress there to please thy Sense And raise thy heavy Limbs into a Dance Yet Thou dost Labour thou dost Toyl and Sow And break thy Fields that never felt the Plough Yet you take Care you wash my bleating Flocks And gather boughs to feed my weary'd Ox. And if the River run above the bound Swoln big with Rain you raise a stronger Mound And teach it to forbear the Meadow ground Now why these Things so differently appear To Us and what divides our Fancies hear I that lov'd all the Frolicks of the Town Curl'd powder'd Locks a fine and gawdy Gown That pleas'd coy Cynera without a price That lov'd debauch and courted every Vice Now like short Suppers and at civil hours And sleep by purling Streams on Banks of Flowers Once to be wild is no such foul disgrace But 't is so still to run the frantick Race There on my Joys no Squint-ey'd Envious wait None frowns none looks askew no secret hate With venom'd Tooth doth bite My Neighbours smile To see me busie at my little Toil. But you had rather be remov'd to Town That way your Mind and eager Wishes run The City slaves the while the Country love And envy Thee thy Garden and thy Grove The Ox the Saddle asks the Ass the Plough Let All that 's best pursue the Arts they know EPISTLE XV. To his Friend Vala inquiring what he can have in the place whither he designs to retire for his Health DEar Vala prithee quickly send me word What Velia what Salernum can afford How hot the Winter If the Air be good What manner'd Men live there and what 's the Road True my Physician tells me I may use The Bajan Baths but those their help refuse Because in Winter cooler Streams I choose That I should leave their Groves their Sulphurous Stream So fam'd for curing knotty Gouts contemn The whole Town mourns and curses the Disease That makes us seek the Clusian Springs for Ease That makes us leave her Groves her warmer Seat For unfrequented Gaby's cool retreat To change my Station now I must begin And force my Horse beyond my usual Inn So ho where now the angry Riders say And stifly pull the Rein that 's not the way I 'me not for Bay or Cume then gently sooths But bridled Horses Ears are in their mouths Which yields the most and which the sweetest Grain Whether they set out Tubs to catch the Rain Or else have constant Springs their Water clear For I don 't like the Wine they fancy there True when at home then any Drink will please But when I go abroad to take my Ease Enjoy Seas warmth my thoughts from Cares reprieve My Liquor must be good if I would Live Such as will fill my Veins with gen'rous fire Bring certain hopes of Health and thoughts inspire Such as may make my wanton Wishes rise And show me young and grateful to my Miss Where most Hares run most Bores infest the Plains Which Sea most Oysters which most Fish contains That whilst I live I may be plump and gay You write me word I 'le credit what you say Menius when all his little Lands were gone All loosely spent and He a Man o' th' Town A Bully at no certain board He Din'd No house to lodge but rail'd at Foe and Friend A bitter Rogue to Jeer and sharp to Feign Severe to Scandalize the very Bane And Ruine of the Shambles what He got He swallow'd all went down his greedy Throat He when his Cheats not answer'd his desires When little came from Fops and bubbl'd Squires Would feed on Guts and on the vilest Meat Swallowing as much
How great an Interest Sir I have in You For He still asks and begs me as a Friend He importunes me that I would Commend And bring him to your Service He is fit For Nero's Train and Love who does admit None but good Men and Men of Sense and Wit He thinks me Intimate my Interest good And more than I my self e're understood I long deny'd a thousand tricks I us'd And urg'd a thousand things to be excus'd But fearing I should seem too shy to own My Power with you kind to my self alone And scandals of a worser fault prevent I 'me turn'd my Lord a modest Impudent I boldly ask now if you dare Commend My boldness in the Service of my Friend Accept Septimius let him fill your Train I promise him a stout and honest Man EPISTLE X. To his Friend Fuscus Aristius 1. Prefers the Country before the City 2. The Covetous must be Slaves ALL Health I lover of the Country send To Fuscus the gay City's greatest Friend Brothers in all things else what one approves Or flies the other likewise hates or loves We Nod together like old acquainted Doves And now we disagree in this alone Our humors differ here you love the Town And I the pleasant Plains and purling Flood The Groves and mossy Banks and shady Wood. In short I Live I Reign since I 'me retir'd From that which you as much as Heaven admir'd Like one at last from the Priests service fled Loathing the hony'd Cakes I long for Bread Do You a Life to Natures Rules design And seek some fit Foundation to begin Some Basis where this happy Frame to raise The quiet Countrey is the fittest place Where is the Winter 's Cold more mild than here And when the Sun ascends and burns the year Where does a more delightful Wind asswage The furious Dog-stars or the Lions rage Or where do envious Cares break fewer dreams Do Flowers shine less or smell less sweet than Gems Are Streams more pure that Leaden Pipes convey Than those fair Springs that with their wanton play And gentle murmurs eat their easie Way E'en midst our Palaces we plant a Grove And Gardens dress our Care shows what we love That House is most esteem'd He wisely builds That hath a Prospect to the open fields Strive to expel strong Nature 't is in vain With doubled force she will return again And conquering rise above the proud disdain Not those that drive a Trade in Tyrian dyes Yet know not Counterfeits nor how to prize More vexing and more certain Cheats pursue Than Those that can't distinguish false from True Those whom the smiles of Fate too much delight Their sudden Frowns more shake and more affright What you admire You will be loath to lose Greatness and Fortune's guilded snares refuse An humble Roof plain Bed and humble Board More clear and more untainted sweets afford Than all the Tumult of vain greatness brings To Kings or the swoln Favourites of Kings 2. Both fed together till with injur'ous force The stoutest Deer expell'd the weaker Horse He beaten flyes to Man to right his Cause Begs help and takes the Bridle in his Jaws Yet tho He Conquer'd tho He rul'd the Plain He bore the Rider still and felt the Rein. Thus the mean Wretch that fearing to be poor Doth sell his Liberty for meaner Ore Must bear a Lord He must be still a Slave That cannot use the little Nature gave Him whom his Wealth doth not exactly fit Whose stores too closely or too loosely sit Like Shoes ill made and faulty if too great They overturn and pinch him if too strait Content Aristus with thy present store Thou wilt live wisely and not wish for more And let me prithee feel thy sharp reproof If I shall strive for more than just enough Money must rule or must obey the Mind More fit for Service than for Rule design'd Behind Vacuna's Fane these lines I drew Well pleas'd with every thing but wanting you EPISTLE XI To his Friend Bullatus who had been Travelling That happiness may be had any where BUllatus how did pretty Samos show Chios and stately Sardis let me know If They are such as Fame reports or no Or can you find more pretty things at home Are all these places mean compar'd to Rome Or else doth some Attalian City please Or Lebedus where tir'd with boist'rous Seas And tedious Roads You first sat down to ease Now Desert Lebedus contains but few And less than Gabii or Fidenoe knew Yet there my days I with Content could spend Forget and be forgot by every Friend There safe at shore see Winds and Storms engage And smile from Land at distant Neptune's rage But he that comes to Rome thro Rain and Mire Would not live always by a Kitchin Fire And he that 's cold commends not Baths and Heat As if they made a happy life compleat Nor ' cause Storms toss should'st thou straight seek thy ease And sell thy Ship beyond Aegaean Seas Fair Mytelene will prove as great a good To Men of sober Minds as Tyber's Flood To Swimmers when cold Winds severely blow As Freeze in Summer Silks in Frost and Snow Whilst Fortune smiles and gives Thee happy days Chios at Rome and absent Samos praise Take thankfully those hours the Gods shall give Use whilst you may and be not slow to live For if 't is Reason and not change of Air That brings soft Rest and frees our Souls from Care Those that beyond Sea go shall sadly find They change their Climate only not their Mind A busie idleness destroys our ease We Ride and Sail to seek for happiness Yet what we seek with every Tide and Wind We can e'en here or at Ulubra find If we can have but a contented Mind EPISTLE XII 1. Desires his Friend Iccius to be content 2. Commends Pompey Grosphus to him 3. Tells how the Affairs in Italy stand 1. IF You can use Agrippa's vast Estate Which now you manage 't is the height of Fate Not Jove himself could give a greater store Tho grown profuse my Friend complain no more He that hath things for use is never poor If Thou hast cleanly Food and Cloaths enough What more than this can kingly Wealth bestow If at full Tables stor'd with dainty meat You can contain and Herbs and Mallows eat Thus thou wilt live if prodigal of her store The Golden Streams of Fortune guild Thee o're ' Cause Mony cannot Natures stamp deface And all things you below true Vertue place Why should we wonder is it strange to find Democritus grown poorer whilst his mind Was gone abroad and left his Limbs behind Whilst You thro Clogs of gain can nobly climb And midst dull Avarice think on Things Sublime What bounds the raging Sea what rules the Year Whether by their own force the Planets err Or some Superior Guide what spreads the Night What hides the Moon What fills her face with Light What disagreeing Seeds of Things can