138:119,000[' ]| 138:119,000[' ]| 138:119,000[' ]| 138:119,000[' ]| 138:119,001[A ]| From Cadiz' shores to the pagodaed East, 138:119,002[A ]| leaving a dreamer's fog, what mind can tell 138:119,003[A ]| real blessings from that draught that does one ill, 138:119,004[A ]| for rarely good sense proves the wisest test, 138:119,005[A ]| for what when started don't we soon lament 138:119,006[A ]| as menial work, or loss, or too much fuss? 138:119,007[A ]| In peace and war we ask what injures us, 138:119,008[A ]| And granting prayers, Gods aid our discontent. 138:119,009[A ]| For many, eloquence has proved their ruin, 138:119,010[A ]| and one man, Milo, trusting strength to wit <10> 138:119,011[A ]| fell victim to the muscles his arms knit; 138:119,012[A ]| but more are killed by their amassing fortune, 138:119,013[A ]| by incomes in excess of farmland yield 138:119,014[A ]| as British whales exceed a dolphin's weight. 138:119,015[A ]| So in a frightened age, at Nero's start, 138:119,016[A ]| Longinus is exiled; Seneca, killed. 138:119,017[A ]| Their stately mansions fall to public lands. 138:119,018[A ]| Yet what mad soldiers storm a poor man's garret? 138:119,019[A ]| And mindful of the love of silver plate, 138:119,020[A ]| one starts a journey fearing their harsh hands <20> 138:119,021[A ]| and quakes at reeds that quiver in the moonlight. 138:119,022[A ]| Dead broke, he'll whistle in ill-fortune's face. 138:119,023[A ]| Why then these prayers one utters every place 138:119,024[A ]| for bigger coffers that increase such fright? 138:120,025[A ]| No poison's ever slipped in earthenware. 138:120,026[A ]| Beware jeweled goblets and those bowls of gold 138:120,027[A ]| and sparkling Setine wines which each may hold, 138:120,028[A ]| and praise the wisdom of that disparate pair 138:120,029[A ]| who daily viewed their lives' absurd careers, 138:120,030[A ]| one laughing while the other always cried. <30> 138:120,031[A ]| We know how easy sneering laughs are had. 138:120,032[A ]| Consider, though, that endless store of tears. 138:120,033[A ]| Provoked to laugh at fools he'd come upon, 138:120,034[A ]| Democritus could risk without an aide 138:120,035[A ]| wide regions where a soldier never strayed. 138:120,036[A ]| What, now, were he to see our Praetor frown, 138:120,037[A ]| raised high in the middust of circus crowds, 138:120,038[A ]| dressed in Jove's tunic, stitched with golden thread, 138:120,039[A ]| a crown so heavy on his drooping head, 138:120,040[A ]| he'd sooner bear the weight of funeral shrouds, <40> 138:120,041[A ]| would he not be provoked as well to laugh? 138:120,042[A ]| A slave is needed to support the head. 138:120,043[A ]| Supporting this, what good's a consul's pride? 138:120,044[A ]| He stares down birds perched on an ivory staff. 138:120,045[A ]| Engulfing both, a white-robed populace 138:120,046[A ]| crowds in and with it, flanking the sleek horses, 138:120,047[A ]| men won by monies safely in their purses, 138:120,048[A ]| harsh trumpeters, and clients in full force. 138:120,049[A ]| His laugh confirms that keenly witted men 138:120,050[A ]| can still be born in dull and foggy places. <50> 138:120,051[A ]| He mocked such vulgar smiles, men's grimaces 138:120,052[A ]| And tears, bidding Fortune, too, be gone, 138:121,053[A ]| pointing at her a finger of derision. 138:121,054[A ]| Superfluous, too, the endless wax entreaties 138:121,055[A ]| fixed like small garlands at a statue's knee, 138:121,056[A ]| Great power brings great envy and men's ruin. 138:121,057[A ]| Nothing descends like long resplendent honor. 138:121,058[A ]| Down come the statues to be dragged by chains, 138:121,059[A ]| their granite chariots, once an artist's pains, 138:121,060[A ]| and horses' legs are hacked into a powder. <60> 138:121,061[A ]| Or fires roar out, and heads that once moved mobs 138:121,062[A ]| glow with a bellows in the smithy's furnace. 138:121,063[A ]| Sejanus crackles, and from his bronze face, 138:121,064[A ]| once second in the world, come metal tubs. 138:121,065[A ]| "Hang up your door wreaths! Give kind Jove your oxen!" 138:121,066[A ]| What sights! Sejanus being dragged by hooks! 138:121,067[A ]| The crowd's well pleased. "Just see those shifty looks." 138:121,068[A ]| "Believe me, I could never stand the man." 138:121,069[A ]| "But what's the charge that does the monster in? 138:121,070[A ]| Where's the complainant? Where's the court decree?" <70> 138:121,071[A ]| "None of that rot. A letter from Capri." 138:121,072[A ]| "The emperor?" "Yes." "Why no proof's needed then." 138:121,073[A ]| Following Fortune, crowds repay their slights. 138:121,074[A ]| These very mobs, if Fortune had been kinder 138:121,075[A ]| and crushed the emperor while he felt secure, 138:121,076[A ]| might raise Sejanus to Augustan heights. 138:121,077[A ]| Long past they'd given up their rights, and since 138:121,078[A ]| No one will bother buying votes they own. 138:121,079[A ]| Thus they conceded rank and pomp and throne 138:121,080[A ]| to bridle their desires to just two wants ~~ <80> 138:122,081[A ]| food and the circus games. "And are there more?" 138:122,082[A ]| "No doubt of it. The fire's too large for one." 138:122,083[A ]| "This noon, Bruttidius looked a bit undone. 138:122,084[A ]| An angry emperor tolls an awful score." 138:122,085[A ]| "Let's hurry while he's not yet grown suspicious 138:122,086[A ]| and do him in." "Make sure our servants see, 138:122,087[A ]| so we're not suspect in his treachery." 138:122,088[A ]| Such was the people's talk about Sejanus. 138:122,089[A ]| Their whispers spread like ripples through the crowd. 138:122,090[A ]| Would you have the same things Sejanus had? <90> 138:122,091[A ]| his home? his wealth? that daily accolade? 138:122,092[A ]| his power? his rank and office? or his ward? 138:122,093[A ]| that prince who spends his days with herds of sheep, 138:122,094[A ]| Chaldean wizards who graze in his hall? 138:122,095[A ]| Would you have soldiers at your beck and call? 138:122,096[A ]| Why not? Even our most well-meaning hope 138:122,097[A ]| Some day of fashioning another's fate. 138:122,098[A ]| What riches, though, will drown his savage luck? 138:122,099[A ]| Might you prefer instead the downcast's look, 138:122,100[A ]| and be some poor town's bumbling magistrate, <100> 138:122,101[A ]| adjudging weights and breaking stingy measures, 138:122,102[A ]| as threadbare as a judge in Latium? 138:122,103[A ]| You're with me, then. Sejanus' worst crime 138:122,104[A ]| was in not knowing where to press his pleasures. 138:122,105[A ]| For one who wants excessive wealth and praise 138:122,106[A ]| is merely building levels to a tower 138:122,107[A ]| from which a future fall will settle later, 138:122,108[A ]| height speeding on that end he never sees. 138:123,109[A ]| What kills a Crassus, Pompey, Caesar, 138:123,110[A ]| men who can bring our eager state to heel. <110> 138:123,111[A ]| Surely the Gods, by making their hopes real. 138:123,112[A ]| And what kings die of ague or of fever? 138:123,113[A ]| What tyrant dies a bloodless death today? 138:123,114[A ]| Leading the slaves who guard their bursting satchels, 138:123,115[A ]| schoolboys, who cherish wise Minerva's skills, 138:123,116[A ]| buy "penny wise" and spring vacations pray 138:123,117[A ]| for Cicero or Demosthenes' manner. 138:123,118[A ]| Yet it's by eloquence each lost renown. 138:123,119[A ]| An overflow of talent brought each down, 138:123,120[A ]| head and hand severed from our orator. <120> 138:123,121[A ]| No slipshod speaker's murdered in his path. 138:123,122[A ]| "Oh happy Rome, whose birth dates from my office." 138:123,123[A ]| Had all he uttered been such trash as this 138:123,124[A ]| he might have cut down Antony's cold wrath. 138:123,125[A ]| I take a satire's meat to his cooked squab. 138:123,126[A ]| Better be second than to share the chance 138:123,127[A ]| of him whom Athens loved for eloquence. 138:123,128[A ]| He held in check the passions of her mob. 138:123,129[A ]| With adverse Gods and inauspicious calm, 138:123,130[A ]| he saw the light of his first day emerge. <130> 138:123,131[A ]| His sooty blacksmith father watched this surge 138:123,132[A ]| from lowly anvils to a speaker's doom. 138:123,133[A ]| War spoils, half-broken trophies hung on stumps, 138:123,134[A ]| breast plate, and cheekstrap gleanings of slit helmets, 138:123,135[A ]| a galley's flagstaff, bits of chariots, 138:123,136[A ]| parades of captives weeping with your triumphs, 138:124,137[A ]| these glories, once thought far too great for man, 138:124,138[A ]| become now prizes all our generals seek. 138:124,139[A ]| For these they'll bide their chance or scheme or work. 138:124,140[A ]| Vainglory more than virtue seeds their plan, <140> 138:124,141[A ]| for who wants virtue stripped of these returns? 138:124,142[A ]| So, too, our land's been wrecked by such vainglory, 138:124,143[A ]| by thirsts for honor, titles, history. 138:124,144[A ]| The stories glut the headstones and our urns 138:124,145[A ]| till barren fig trees break these citadels. 138:124,146[A ]| Even the sepulchre can't stop their ravages. 138:124,147[A ]| Weigh Hannibal and see how Fortune wages, 138:124,148[A ]| a man for whom all Africa was small. 138:124,149[A ]| He felt confined by seas, the warm Nile's flow, 138:124,150[A ]| by tribes of Negroes and exotic plants. <150> 138:124,151[A ]| First Spain fell to his war-trained elephants, 138:124,152[A ]| the Pyrenees, the Alps, then winter's snow. 138:124,153[A ]| With ease he cut the peaks like drifts of foam, 138:124,154[A ]| and Italy was his. Still he pressed on. 138:124,155[A ]| "Nothing's accomplished till my war's been won, 138:124,156[A ]| the gates destroyed, my army deep in Rome." 138:124,157[A ]| Oh what a sight, the one-eyed general, squat 138:124,158[A ]| upon his elephant, buoying to that dull sway. 138:124,159[A ]| What did he net? What did his schemes repay? 138:124,160[A ]| Conquered, he fled to exile where he sat <160> 138:124,161[A ]| waiting with servants for a king to wake, 138:124,162[A ]| a mighty and marvelous suppliant, 138:124,163[A ]| no sword to finish off this one-time giant 138:124,164[A ]| who once wrought havoc and made nations quake. 138:125,165[A ]| A poison ring avenged the blood-filled seas. 138:125,166[A ]| On, on you madmen, race the wintry peaks, 138:125,167[A ]| Delight our schoolboy minds for several weeks, 138:125,168[A ]| sparking like Alexanders our dull speeches. 138:125,169[A ]| That Greek king, feeling cramped by the whole East, 138:125,170[A ]| and West's Aegean shore, answered the call. <170> 138:125,171[A ]| Yet when he answered Babylon's brick wall, 138:125,172[A ]| death struck, and one sarcophagus sufficed. 138:125,173[A ]| How small his body was to his huge hopes! 138:125,174[A ]| And hearing how that fleet once sailed past Athos 138:125,175[A ]| and all those lying tales the Greeks propose, 138:125,176[A ]| how seas were bridged by ships instead of ropes 138:125,177[A ]| so chariots might travel on their decks, 138:125,178[A ]| or how streams emptied when the Persians dined, 138:125,179[A ]| those tales Sostratus told when drinks declined, 138:125,180[A ]| we find what lesson in the point each makes? <180> 138:125,181[A ]| Xerxes, famous for having flogged real winds, 138:125,182[A ]| treated them worse than they had ever been. 138:125,183[A ]| He chained Poseidon to his whim even, 138:125,184[A ]| and deemed that God unworthy of his brands. 138:125,185[A ]| What God would serve him? How did he return? 138:125,186[A ]| Making a way through waters thick with waste, 138:125,187[A ]| one final ship proved payment for his boast. 138:125,188[A ]| "Grant me long life, God. Grant me years to burn." 138:125,189[A ]| In health and sickness that's the constant wish. 138:125,190[A ]| Yet endless are the miseries years trace. <190> 138:125,191[A ]| First, look at the misshapen, ugly face, 138:125,192[A ]| unlike a former self; the scaly flesh 138:126,193[A ]| that substitutes as skin; or sagging cheeks 138:126,194[A ]| whose wrinkles match the baboon's aging jowl, 138:126,195[A ]| carved there by disappointment's endless scowl. 138:126,196[A ]| While young men pattern into strongs and weaks 138:126,197[A ]| And grades of handsomeness, old men are one. 138:126,198[A ]| A breaking voice gives out as do the limbs; 138:126,199[A ]| Food's slowly munched by sore and toothless gums; 138:126,200[A ]| hair falls out; like a child's the nose will run. <200> 138:126,201[A ]| Offensive as they are to wife and son, 138:126,202[A ]| they're worse to those who'd seek to be their heirs. 138:126,203[A ]| Their palates relish none of life's old wares, 138:126,204[A ]| And sex no longer gives them any fun. 138:126,205[A ]| And when they sleep, twiglike the penis lies. 138:126,206[A ]| Massaging it all night's a futile gest. 138:126,207[A ]| What hope when that soft organ's lost its zest? 138:126,208[A ]| They soon condemn the lusts they yet would prize 138:126,209[A ]| but lack the manly powers to consummate. 138:126,210[A ]| Then, too, there's loss of still another kind, <210> 138:126,211[A ]| The loss of pleasure that the deaf men find 138:126,212[A ]| When gold-robed, our musicians congregate, 138:126,213[A ]| for no matter what theater seats they hold, 138:126,214[A ]| they can't hear trumpets being played together 138:126,215[A ]| or their own slaves, announcing a visitor, 138:126,216[A ]| blasting their ears like the worst village scold. 138:126,217[A ]| Their frigid blood keeps up the bones' distress, 138:126,218[A ]| except for fevers and delights that dance 138:126,219[A ]| like wantons in a heat's hallucinations. 138:126,220[A ]| Name you the causes? Oppia's loves are less, <220> 138:127,221[A ]| the sick men doctors murder in a season, 138:127,222[A ]| the outraged wards or partners one defrauds, 138:127,223[A ]| Maura's played-out lovers, the Forum's bawds, 138:127,224[A ]| or lads seduced by some foul teacher's reason. 138:127,225[A ]| I'd rather count those villaed parvenus 138:127,226[A ]| who trimmed my beard when I was some years younger. 138:127,227[A ]| One's eyes go bad, or hips, or legs, or shoulder, 138:127,228[A ]| so that he envies those with one eye's use, 138:127,229[A ]| or like a child he's fed on others' terms, 138:127,230[A ]| and jaws that once flew open downing feasts <230> 138:127,231[A ]| now beak like a young swallow in its nest 138:127,232[A ]| whose fasting mother flies to it with worms. 138:127,233[A ]| But worse than body's loss is mind's decay. 138:127,234[A ]| Slaves' names and faces go unrecognized 138:127,235[A ]| as last night's guests whose manners you apprized, 138:127,236[A ]| or children you begot and sent their way. 138:127,237[A ]| And by cold wills you leave your whole estate 138:127,238[A ]| to some alluring slut who's plied her love 138:127,239[A ]| waiting in archways for her "turtle dove." 138:127,240[A ]| If your mind's clear, you see your sons' sure fate. <240> 138:127,241[A ]| You watch the funeral pyre of your loved wife, 138:127,242[A ]| and urns fill with the ashes of your kin. 138:127,243[A ]| Long life's reward, to see the years do in 138:127,244[A ]| one after one the pleasures of your life 138:127,245[A ]| and minus them to live your last years out 138:127,246[A ]| aging amid calamity's shrill ring. 138:127,247[A ]| Believing Homer, Nestor, that wise king, 138:127,248[A ]| next to the crow, exemplifies this fate. 138:128,249[A ]| Happy indeed he'd put off death for eons, 138:128,250[A ]| he counted years by centuries on one hand <250> 138:128,251[A ]| and quaffed his wine, yet even he complained 138:128,252[A ]| of his fate, seeing death's continued actions: 138:128,253[A ]| seeing a son's beard flare upon the pyre? 138:128,254[A ]| He asked of friends what sin had caused this sight, 138:128,255[A ]| what sin indeed deserved this harshest fate? 138:128,256[A ]| So, too, Peleus at Achilles' fire. 138:128,257[A ]| Laertes mourned as well for his lost sailor. 138:128,258[A ]| And Priam, had he died before that trip, 138:128,259[A ]| before shrewd Paris built his fated ship, 138:128,260[A ]| when Troy stood foremost in the heaven's favor, <260> 138:128,261[A ]| he'd have gone down to meet his kin below 138:128,262[A ]| borne by brave Hector amid women's sobs ~~ 138:128,263[A ]| a grief-struck Polyxena rending robes, 138:128,264[A ]| Cassandra leading all in cries of woe. 138:128,265[A ]| What good was his long life, his house in ruin 138:128,266[A ]| and Asia perishing by sword and fire? 138:128,267[A ]| Laying aside his crown, in war's attire, 138:128,268[A ]| he fell in fear on Jove's cold altar stone 138:128,269[A ]| like an old ox discarded from the plows 138:128,270[A ]| whose neck is put beneath a master's knife. <270> 138:128,271[A ]| Still Priam's death was human. His poor wife 138:128,272[A ]| lived on, a dog's snarl fixing her set jaws. 138:128,273[A ]| Avoiding Mithridates' sad tale, 138:128,274[A ]| or Croesus' whom Solon warned to change, 138:128,275[A ]| our lessoned countrymen will be my range. 138:128,276[A ]| Old age brought Marius exile and jail, 138:129,277[A ]| leaving him where he'd have to beg for food ~~ 138:129,278[A ]| in Carthage where he'd fought before and conquered. 138:129,279[A ]| Was man's end ever made the more absurd? 138:129,280[A ]| Seeing him beg there after a parade <280> 138:129,281[A ]| of captives, minus the despoiler's wealth 138:129,282[A ]| or pomp he struck when stepping from his car? 138:129,283[A ]| Kindly the provinces caused Pompey's fever 138:129,284[A ]| and spoiled it, then, by praying for his health, 138:129,285[A ]| so that a still more deadly fate might fall 138:129,286[A ]| lurking somewhere to sever trunk and head. 138:129,287[A ]| Intact, Lentulus and Cethegus died, 138:129,288[A ]| their cohort, Catiline, likewise fell whole. 138:129,289[A ]| Still beauty's what our anxious mothers want, 138:129,290[A ]| in whispers for their sons, for daughters louder, <290> 138:129,291[A ]| entering in the most minute particulars. 138:129,292[A ]| "Diana's looks brought joy," becomes the cant. 138:129,293[A ]| "Lucretia, though, discourages a double. 138:129,293[A ]| Virginia, too, would gladly trade her place 138:129,295[A ]| For Rutlia's plain shape and plainer face." 138:129,296[A ]| And handsome sons can bring a parent trouble. 138:129,297[A ]| For rarely modesty and good looks mix, 138:129,298[A ]| and though one's life and manners are pristine 138:129,299[A ]| and Nature keeps one's dreaming pure and clean, 138:129,300[A ]| the flesh grows ripe upon the modest cheeks <300> 138:129,301[A ]| and if he lacks that rarest element, 138:129,302[A ]| someone who'll plan for his best future's sake, 138:129,303[A ]| he'll never be a man. Some wealthy rake 138:129,304[A ]| will bribe him from a careless, greedy parent. 138:130,305[A ]| Wealth has such trust. Recall no ugly lad 138:130,306[A ]| is ever eunuched for a tyrant's pleasure. 138:130,307[A ]| No bandy-legged or scrofulous plain queer 138:130,308[A ]| or humpback ever shared in Nero's bed. 138:130,309[A ]| Go, now, who revel in your sons' good looks. 138:130,310[A ]| Think of the dangers they will have to chance. <310> 138:130,311[A ]| Full-grown, they turn promiscuous gallants 138:130,312[A ]| and hide from outraged husbands like base crooks. 138:130,313[A ]| No luckier than Mars, they get the net. 138:130,314[A ]| And worse than lawcourts' is the husband's ire. 138:130,315[A ]| One lover gets the sword, and one gets fire; 138:130,316[A ]| another feels the bullwhip's deadly whet, 138:130,317[A ]| and, skinned like mullets, others are displayed. 138:130,318[A ]| Or else a matron eyes your innocent, 138:130,319[A ]| and someone's wife begins to pay his rent 138:130,320[A ]| and he courts only while his bills are paid. <320> 138:130,321[A ]| No matter what her steel, what wife today 138:130,322[A ]| Holds back from one who's satisfied her lust? 138:130,323[A ]| Their passion makes their reputations rust. 138:130,324[A ]| "But how will beauty harm the pure?" you say. 138:130,325[A ]| Just count the innocents that passion's bled. 138:130,326[A ]| Despite what vows of purity they'd sworn, 138:130,327[A ]| they're made Hippolytus to Phaedra's scorn, 138:130,328[A ]| for love's most savage when its flame's unfed. 138:130,329[A ]| What recourse, too, for Messalina's choice, 138:130,330[A ]| A lad descended from a fine estate? <330> 138:130,331[A ]| For by her looks she seals the young man's fate. 138:130,332[A ]| In matters here, it's death to have a voice. 138:131,333[A ]| She sits, a bridal veil the young man's noose, 138:131,334[A ]| the lavish marriage bed in open view. 138:131,335[A ]| Her dowry's worth a million dollars, too. 138:131,336[A ]| Priests will be there, and faithful witnesses. 138:131,337[A ]| One thinks such things might be clandestine, 138:131,338[A ]| but ladies won't be wed without due forms. 138:131,339[A ]| Refuse, and nightfall sees you ripe for worms. 138:131,340[A ]| Accept, and simply count the days you gain <340> 138:131,341[A ]| until the prince hears of the marriage pact. 138:131,342[A ]| He'll be the last to hear about your honor. 138:131,343[A ]| Obey her, if you value some days more. 138:131,344[A ]| No matter, though, which way you choose to act 138:131,345[A ]| your neck's still stretched across an altar stone. 138:131,346[A ]| Should one want nothing then? If left to me, 138:131,347[A ]| I'd let the heavens shape my destiny, 138:131,348[A ]| providing me the things I ought to own. 138:131,349[A ]| Instead of pleasing men, they give what's best. 138:131,350[A ]| Their love's less selfish than our own self-love. <350> 138:131,351[A ]| Impelled by whim and our desires to wive, 138:131,352[A ]| we ask for sons and wives who feed our lust. 138:131,353[A ]| The Gods know better who our wives should be. 138:131,354[A ]| Still, that we have some end for which to pray 138:131,355[A ]| and offer livestock entrails for each day, 138:131,356[A ]| pray first for a sound mind in a sound body, 138:131,357[A ]| a heart that doesn't fear the thought of death 138:131,358[A ]| and deems age least of Nature's gifts to man. 138:131,359[A ]| Pray for the strength to see a day's work done, 138:131,360[A ]| a heart that doesn't yearn and holds no wrath. <360> 138:132,361[A ]| Choose Herculean tasks and shun long feasts, 138:132,362[A ]| those loves and soft down-cushions of high fashion. 138:132,363[A ]| What I commend man has to give to man. 138:132,364[A ]| Through virtue lies our difference from brute beasts. 138:132,365[A ]| For were we wise, then Fortune, you'd have less. 138:132,366[A ]| It's we who raise you to your loftiness.