Classic Poem

What and how great it is to be
A pattern of oeconomy;
(Nor is this doctrine fairly mine,
But what Ofellus wou'd injoin,
A rustic without learning taught,
And wise by downright strength of thought)
Learn, my good friends, while I debate,
But not amongst a glare of plate,
When the maz'd eye is at a loss,
And mind mis-judges, dup'd by gloss,
But here, while fasting, let us weigh —
Why so? — I'll tell you, if I may —
A judge corrupted with a fee,
Cannot the truth so clearly see;
If after hunting of the hare,
Or gall'd by some unruly mare,
Or Roman Manual make you weak,
As you are us'd to play the Greek,
Or while the rapid ball recoils,
The heat of contest cheat your toils,
Or if your pleasure is the quoit,
You smite the air in that exploit;
When exercise has cur'd your squeam,
And drought and hunger are extream,
Then let me see your scorn plain fare,
Nor for the best Falernian care,
Unless there's honey in the wine —
Your butler is gone out to dine,
And the tempestuous ocean saves
The fish, by his black wintry waves,
Why then a bit of bread and cheese,
The barking stomach will appease.
From whence do you think this wisdom's gain'd?
Whence this philosophy obtain'd?
Not the rich flavour gives delight,
The relish is your appetite;
Seek, and you'll not be at a loss
By downright exercise for sauce;
Nor fowls that fly, nor fish that swim,
Can give the least content to him,
Who's bloated with th'effects of vice —
Yet I might fail, shou'd I intice
Your palate to an humble chick,
A peacock ent'ring in the nick,
Struck by appearance, you regale
Upon th'idea of his tail;
Scarce bird! that cost the lord knows what,
As if that signified a jot.
What, do you eat those gaudy dies,
Which you so much extol and prize?
And is the bird as much possess'd
Of beauty, when 'tis pluck'd and dress'd?
Yet as there is no odds betwixt
Their several tastes, the truth is fix'd,
That you're deceiv'd by outward shew —
Yet grant in this it were not so —
By what conjecture can you dive,
Whether this pike that gapes alive,
Was in main ocean trepann'd
Or Tiber, and was thrown to land
Between the bridges, or the head
From whence the Tuscan river's fed —
You ninny, you are apt to praise
A mullet that full three pound weighs,
Which you must mangle, as a dupe
To stupid custom in your soupe.
I see appearance is your guide;
Why are the pikes so much decried?
Because they're of a longer sort,
And mullets naturally short.
An appetite with hunger keen,
Will seldom loath the coarse and clean. —
O cou'd I see a banging fish,
Extended in a swinging dish,
A rav'nous glutton cries aloud,
Whose maw might make a harpy proud!
But, O ye blasts! that taint the air,
Come blow upon their luscious fare;
Tho' there's no mighty need of you,
Since both the boar and turbot too,
First taken are offence to them,
Whose stomach now o'ercharg'd with phlegm
Prefer the rising food to curb,
The turnip, and the acid herb.
Yet still at sumptuous boards we see
Some traits of old oeconomy;
Ev'n to this day eggs first appear,
And the black olives in the rear —
But now the table of the Cry'r,
Did most notoriously aspire,
Exhibiting a sturgeon whole —
Had sea no turbot, nor a sole?
The turbot late was undistress'd,
And safe the stork within her nest,
Until th'exploded Praetor taught,
That they might be devour'd and caught;
Wherefore if any fool shou'd boast,
That cormorants were good to roast,
So fond of lies, the Roman youth
Wou'd all receive it as a truth.
But if Ofellus we retain
As judge, there's difference again,
Betwixt the SORDID and the PLAIN .
For pomp and pride in vain you shun,
If you to downright meanness run.
Avidienus, whom they call
A cur, in justice after all,
Eats olives, which have fairly stood
Five years, and cornels of the wood,
And even spares his wine to pour
Into the cup, till chang'd and sour:
Then for his oil, you cannot bear
The scent (tho' 'tis some great affair
He celebrates in white array,
His birth, perhaps, or wedding-day)
By his own hand it is distill'd,
From horn that holds two pounds when fill'd,
Upon the cabbage — but for tart
He is no niggard, and can part
From vinegar with all his heart!
What food then shall a wise man use,
And which of these examples choose!
For difficulties press around,
And here's the wolf, and there's the hound.
He shall be neat who does not sin
In nastiness, and keeps within
Due bounds, no wretch on either side,
Who will not imitate the pride
Of old Albucius, who raves,
Whene'er he's tasking of his slaves —
Nor will he bear for want of thought,
That greasy water shou'd be brought,
As noodle Naevius serves his guest,
Which is as bad as all the rest.
Now hear how many and how great
The comforts that spare meals await —
First then there is your health preserv'd,
For various things, when they are serv'd,
You well may think can do no good,
When you reflect upon the food,
So well digested when a boy,
Too simple to offend or cloy.
But when you once begin your tricks,
And boil'd and roast together mix,
And fish and fowl — the sweetest juice
Will turn to bile by gross abuse,
And the tough phlegm, that forms and stays,
Will tumults in your stomach raise.
Observe how pale the guests arise
From courses of varieties;
Besides the body overpower'd
With what you yesternight devour'd,
Afflicts the mind, and brings to shame,
Your portion of th'etherial flame.
Another, who but plainly fed
Springs active to his early bed,
Betimes arises fresh and gay,
For all the duties of the day.
But he sometimes may have recourse
To better cheer without remorse,
At some great festal revolution,
Or on defect of constitution,
When weakness comes, and years implore
More tender usage than before.
But as for you, if sickness come,
Or creeping old-age shou'd benumb,
What kind indulgence can be lent,
Which you in youth and strength prevent!
A rancid boar our fathers chose,
And yet these Romans had a nose.
But I presume this was their view,
That for a visitor or two,
At times they'd take it from their shelves,
Rather than eat it all themselves.
O that I had been born and nurst,
Amongst such heroes at the first!
Come, are your ears for fame inclin'd,
The more than music of the mind?
Plate, turbots, e'en such show and cheer
Are scandalous as well as dear:
To all these items you may add,
Your uncle, and your neighbours mad,
Desp'rate yourself, and without hope
Of death, or credit for a rope. —
" That Trasius, (you'll be apt to urge)
With these invectives you may scourge,
But I have very great estates,
Enough to keep three potentates."
Why therefore do you not prepare
A fund of what you have to spare?
Why shou'd one good man be distress'd,
While you are of such wealth possess'd?
Why do the holy temples fall,
Ingrate! have you no love at all
For native Rome, but she may reap
A little from your monst'rous heap? —
Must thou alone be still exempt,
O object of your foes contempt
Hereafter — Which shall best confide
In his own heart, when he is tried,
He who has us'd to more than due
His pamper'd mind and body too,
Or who with meaner things content,
Prepar'd and cautious of event,
In wisdom knows what peace is for,
And hoards supplies against a war?
But that my doctrine may appear
More acceptable, you shall hear —
I knew Ofellus, when a boy,
Who did not formerly enjoy
With more expence his lands intire,
Than now oblig'd those lands to hire.
There may you see him walk about
In fields with elegance laid out,
Stout farmer, tho' his rent be large,
With wife and children, all his charge,
Having such things as these to say:
" I never on a common day,
Ought more than herbs and bacon eat,
But when compell'd a friend to treat,
After long interval receiv'd,
Or when from all our toils reliev'd,
A neighbour, whom the tempest drives,
Most acceptable guest arrives —
Then we liv'd well, but not so high,
As fishes ev'n from Rome to buy:
But pullets, or a kid was caught;
And for the second course they brought
Some grapes, for raisins, hung and dried,
With nuts, and a few figs beside.
After this fare we had a play,
To take our glass in turn, or pay.
Then Ceres by our vows ador'd,
A plenteous harvest to afford,
Smil'd on our jovial cup, to chace
The wrinkles of each serious face.
Let fortune rage, new broils foment,
What more 'gainst me can she invent?
Have I, my boys, more sparing been,
Or have we gone less tight and clean,
Since the new lord has here been seen?
For nature has appointed none,
To call an earthly thing his own,
Nor him, nor me, nor any third —
He drove us out by war preferr'd;
To him his conduct past all shame,
Or quirks in law shall do the same,
Or heir surviving after all —
This field Umbrenus's they call,
Which lately did to me pertain,
For none long while shall it remain —
But still be ceded to the plea
Of any person, you or me —
Wherefore act bravely, and oppose
A manly heart to worldly woes."