PERSIUS.

But thou art pale in nightly studies grown, To make the Stoic institutes thy own:

*

Thou long, with studious care, hast tilled our youth, And sown our well-purged ears with wholesome truth.

From thee both old and young with profit learn The bounds of good and evil to discern.

CORNUTUS.

Unhappy he who does this work adjourn, And to to-morrow would the search delay; His lazy morrow will be like to-day.

PERSIUS.

But is one day of ease too much to borrow?

CORNUTUS.

Yes, sure; for yesterday was once to-morrow. That yesterday is gone, and nothing gained, And all thy fruitless days will thus be drained; For thou hast more to-morrows yet to ask, And wilt be ever to begin thy task;

+

Who, like the hindmost chariot-wheels, art curst,
Still to be near, but ne'er to reach the first.
O freedom, first delight of human kind!
Not that which bondmen from their masters find,
The privilege of doles; † nor yet to inscribe
Their names in this or t'other Roman tribe; t
That false enfranchisement with ease is found,
Slaves are made citizens by turning round. §
How, replies one, can any be more free?
Here's Dama, once a groom of low degree,
Not worth a farthing, and a sot beside,
So true a rogue, for lying's sake he lied;

* Note VIII., + Note IX.
§ Note XI.

Note X.

But, with a turn, a freeman he became,
Now Marcus Dama is his worship's name.
Good gods! who would refuse to lend a sum,
If wealthy Marcus surety will become !
Marcus is made a judge, and for a proof
Of certain truth, "He said it," is enough."
A will is to be proved;-put in your claim;-
'Tis clear, if Marcus has subscribed his name. †
This is true liberty, as I believe;

What farther can we from our caps receive,
Than as we please without controul to live?
Not more to noble Brutus § could belong.
Hold, says the Stoic, your assumption's wrong:
I grant true freedom you have well defined:
But, living as you list, and to your mind,
Are loosely tacked, and must be left behind.-
What! since the
prætor did my fetters loose,
And left me freely at my own dispose,
May I not live without controul or awe,
Excepting still the letter of the law?-¶
Hear me with patience, while thy mind I free
From those fond notions of false liberty:
'Tis not the prætor's province to bestow
True freedom; nor to teach mankind to know
What to ourselves, or to our friends, we owe.
He could not set thee free from cares and strife,
Nor give the reins to a lewd vicious life:
As well he for an ass a harp might string,
Which is against the reason of the thing;
For reason still is whispering in your ear,
Where you are sure to fail, the attempt forbear.
No need of public sanctions this to bind,
Which nature has implanted in the mind,--
Not to pursue the work, to which we're not de-
signed.

}

}

* Note XII.
§ Note XV.

+ Note XIII.

↑ Note XIV.

¶ Note XVI.

Unskilled in hellebore, if thou should'st try
To mix it, and mistake the quantity,
The rules of physic would against thee cry.
The high-shoe'd ploughman, should he quit the
land,

To take the pilot's rudder in his hand,
Artless of stars, and of the moving sand,

The gods would leave him to the waves and wind,
And think all shame was lost in human kind.

Tell me, my friend, from whence had'st thou the skill,

So nicely to distinguish good from ill?
Or by the sound to judge of gold and brass,
What piece is tinkers' metal, what will pass?
And what thou art to follow, what to fly,
This to condemn, and that to ratify?
When to be bountiful, and when to spare,
But never craving, or oppressed with care?
The baits of gifts, and money to despise,
And look on wealth with undesiring eyes?
When thou canst truly call these virtues thine,
Be wise and free, by heaven's consent and mine.
But thou, who lately of the common strain
Wert one of us, if still thou dost retain
The same ill habits, the same follies too,
Glossed over only with a saint-like show,
Then I resume the freedom which I gave;
Still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.
Thou canst not wag thy finger, or begin
"The least light motion, but it tends to sin."
How's this Not wag my finger, he replies?
No, friend; nor fuming gums, nor sacrifice,
Can ever make a madman free, or wise.
"Virtue and vice are never in one soul;
A man is wholly wise, or wholly is a fool."*

*Note XVII.

}

A heavy bumpkin, taught with daily care,
Can never dance three steps with a becoming air.

PERSIUS.

In spite of this, my freedom still remains.

CORNUTUS.

Free! what, and fettered with so many chains? Canst thou no other master understand

Than him that freed thee by the prætor's wand?
Should he, who was thy lord, command thee now,
With a harsh voice, and supercilious brow,
To servile duties, thou would'st fear no more;
The gallows and the whip are out of door.
But if thy passions lord it in thy breast,
Art thou not still a slave, and still opprest?
Whether alone, or in thy harlot's lap,
When thou would'st take a lazy morning's nap,
Up, up, says Avarice;-thou snor'st again,
Stretchest thy limbs, and yawn'st, but all in vain;
The tyrant Lucre no denial takes;

At his command the unwilling sluggard wakes.
What must I do? he cries:-What says his lord;
Why rise, make ready, and go straight aboard;
With fish, from Euxine seas, thy vessel freight;
Flax, castor, Coan wines, the precious weight
Of pepper, and Sabæan incense, take,

With thy own hands, from the tired camel's back,
And with post haste thy running markets make.
Be sure to turn the penny; lie and swear,
'Tis wholesome sin:-but Jove, thou say'st, will
hear:-

Swear, fool, or starve; for the dilemma's even : A tradesman thou, and hope to go to heaven! Resolved for sea, the slaves thy baggage pack, Each saddled with his burden on his back:

* Note XVIII.

Nothing retards thy voyage now, unless
Thy other lord forbids, Voluptuousness:
And he may ask this civil question,-Friend,
What dost thou make a shipboard? to what end?
Art thou of Bethlem's noble college free,

Stark, staring mad, that thou would'st tempt the sea?
Cubbed in a cabin, on a mattress laid,

On a brown george, with lousy swobbers fed,
Dead wine, that stinks of the borrachio, sup
From a foul jack, or greasy maple-cup?

*

Say, would'st thou bear all this, to raise thy store From six i'the hundred, to six hundred more? Indulge, and to thy genius freely give;

For, not to live at ease, is not to live;

Death stalks behind thee, and each flying hour
Does some loose remnant of thy life devour.
Live, while thou liv'st; for death will make us all
A name, a nothing but an old wife's tale.

Speak; wilt thou Avarice, or Pleasure, chuse
To be thy lord? Take one, and one refuse.
But both by turns the rule of thee will have,
And thou betwixt them both wilt be a slave.

Nor think when once thou hast resisted one,
That all thy marks of servitude are gone:
The struggling grey-hound gnaws his leash in vain;
If, when 'tis broken, still he drags the chain.

Says Phædria to his man, † Believe me, friend, To this uneasy love I'll put an end:

Shall I run out of all? My friends' disgrace,
And be the first lewd unthrift of my race?
Shall I the neighbours nightly rest invade
At her deaf doors, with some vile serenade?—
Well hast thou freed thyself, his man replies,
Go, thank the gods, and offer sacrifice.—

* A leathern pitcher, called a black jack, used by our homely ancestors for quaffing their ale.

† Note XIX.

E.