Classic Poem

" Your works so seldom now appear,
You scarcely wrote four times last year;
Employ'd your poems to retouch,
And wroth you have indulg'd so much
In wine and sleep, till all your lays
Are far beneath the public praise.
What now? you come here with a view,
The feast of Saturn to eschew —
So now you're sober, drive your trade,
And keep the promise that you made.
Begin — there is no let at all,
In vain you blame your pen, and scrawl
Upon the harmless, helpless wall.
And yet your features were intent,
As pregnant with some huge event,
If once you compass'd your retreat
To leisure, and your country-seat.
What boots it to make such ado
With Plato and Menander too,
To bring down Eupolis to us,
And that great bard Archilochus?
If you shall think to silence spite,
By quitting valour and the fight,
They'll call you a most wretched wight.
That siren indolence divorce,
Or you must lose all fame of course,
You gain'd in better days of yore' —
" O Damasippus! I implore
All male and female pow'rs above,
For your good council and your love,
A shaver for your beard to send;
But whence are you so much my friend,
And see so deep in my affairs?" —
" To other men I give my cares,
By no concerns of self controul'd,
E'er since my goods were 'prais'd and sold;
For formerly my chief employ,
Was to be curious in a toy,
And at th' identic vase I guess'd,
Corinthian Sisyphus possess'd.
What cut without the master's hand,
And what too roughly cast, I scan'd,
As connoisseur, for such a head
Some thousand sesterces I bled .
I was the only man, that knew
To buy fine seats and gardens too,
And that to such advantage, Sir,
That I was call'd the MANAGER ,
Both in the streets and at the 'change' —
" I know it, and to me 'tis strange,
So frantic you shou'd e'er get well" —
" Some new disorders came t'expel
The old, which sometimes is the case,
When pain and sickness shift their place,
And from the head and sides depart,
To make advances on the heart.
Or as it is when from his bed
The dull lethargic lifts his head,
And beats the doctor for his fee" —
" So that you do not this to me,
Be things as you wou'd have them be."
— — " Do not deceive yourself, good sir,
You're mad, and so are all that err
From wisdom mad, or nearly so,
If truth our great Stertinius know,
From whom these admirable rules
I have deriv'd, concerning fools,
What time he order'd me to save
A sapient beard, and never shave,
And speed without concern and pain,
From that Fabrician bridge again.
For when, as all my wealth was spent,
I there for self-destruction went,
He very happily stood near,
And have a care (says he) for fear
You thro' false shame are on a plan,
Which is unworthy of a man,
Since born amongst the mad-brain'd race,
You dread a personal disgrace.
First then I will inquire to see
What's madness? if alone in thee,
I will not add a word, not I
But you may bravely plunge and die.
Crysippus both his school and sect,
Do madness to all men object.
For fools of a malicious mind,
While ignorant of truth, and blind,
Are madmen properly defin'd.
In this we comprehend you all
Both king and people, great and small,
Except the stoic great and wise,
Who bade us thus philosophize.
Now hear how those, that give to you
The name of madman, are so too.
As in the woods when people stray,
Driv'n by some blunder from the way,
If right or left their route's oblique,
The error ends to each alike:
In such conceive yourself insane ,
So that another, who is vain,
And laughs at you, is no less mad,
And hangs his hamper'd tail as bad.
One kind of folly is to fear
All peril, when no hurt is near:
So that upon the open lea
Fires, rivers, rocks, they seem to see.
Another opposite direct,
Nor wiser in the least respect:
That is thro' floods and flames to fly.
Let mistress, mother, sister cry,
With all his kindred, and his wife:
" This ditch is dreadful — save your life —
This precipice is monstrous steep,
From headlong death your footsteps keep. "
He wou'd not hear or be controul'd,
Better than Fusius did of old,
When he was drunk to that degree,
He overslept ILIONE ,
The while two hundred thousand roar,
" Hear, mother, hear thy Polydore. "
Now I shall shew you, that the case,
Is parallel with all our race.
If Damasippus is unwise,
For ancient bustos, that he buys,
Are they that lend him money SANE ?
Well be it so — but to explain.
Here, sir, receive, if I shou'd say,
That which you never can repay,
Is't mad to take me at my word,
Or wou'd you not be more absurd,
To spare the purse and its contents,
Which lucky Mercury presents?
Grant that to Nerius there are due
Ten thousand pieces — 'twill not do.
Add then a million forms and ties,
That quaint Cicuta can devise:
Yet Proteus shifting off his shape,
Shall all these chains and bars escape,
And when you drag him into court,
With your misfortunes making sport,
At pleasure boar, or bird, or rock,
Or oak he'll be to stand the shock.
Misconduct if his want of sense,
And care to wisdom claims pretence;
Perillius forward to advance
The sum, for which he finds no chance,
Is of a head by far more weak
Than thee, if I my mind may speak.
Whome'er ambitious thoughts assail,
Who are with watching money pale,
Who for luxurious viands pants,
Or sour with superstition cants,
Or finds his intellectual man
At all impair'd, come rear and van
To me, your most especial friend;
Adjust your garments and attend,
While I demonstrate to your face,
That madness is a common case.
First to the avaritious tribe,
Most hellebore I must prescribe:
Perhaps, these wretches with their hoards,
Claim all Anticyra affords.
Staberius' heirs were forc'd to write
The sum he left in black and white
Upon his tomb, for on neglect
They were injoin'd to this effect:
That they shou'd to the mob bestow
An hundred fencers, for a show,
With a grand banqueting beside,
Ev'n such as Arrius shou'd provide,
With as much corn as in a year,
The fields of fertile Afric bear:
" Whether you deem that this my will
Be right or wrong, yet pray fulfill,
Nor on my mem'ry be too hard. "
The man, I think, was on his guard.
What therefore do you think he dreamt,
When he commanded on contempt,
His heirs upon his tomb shou'd grave
The money he was said to have?
Know then, while yet alive, he sneer'd
At want, as vice, which most he fear'd,
So that he all wou'd self deny,
Lest one mite poorer he shou'd die.
For all things, virtue, fame, and grace,
Divine and human must give place
To wealth, which if one can acquire,
He's just, fam'd, brave, and sov'reign sire,
With all things else he can desire.
These heaps, as if for merits gain
He thought wou'd to his laud remain. —
With him, how little of a piece,
Was Aristippus sprung from Greece,
Who made his slaves by his commands,
Disperse his gold on Lybian sands,
As going slowly on the road,
Encumber'd with so great a load!
Which is the madder of the two?
— An instance here will little do,
Which strives to help a question out,
By bringing up another doubt. —
If any man shou'd buy guittars,
And keep them up with locks and bars,
Unskill'd the lyre or lute to use,
And wholly inscious of the muse;
Or be worth many a last and awl,
That is no shoemaker at all;
Or sails and ropes a fool shou'd hoard,
Who never dar'd to go aboard ,
Why sure delirious and unsound,
He wou'd by all his peers be found.
And how I wou'd be told is he
From such-like imputations free,
Who dreads to use his hoarded plate,
And money, as if consecrate ?
Shou'd any person stand before
A heap of corn upon his floor,
And arm'd upon the watch remain,
Yet dare not take a single grain,
And tho' his heart with hunger grieves,
Had rather fare upon dry leaves —
Or shou'd a thousand casks possess,
From Chian or Falernian PRESS ,
Nay more, three hundred thousand say,
And yet drink vinegar all day:
Again, shou'd one of sev'nty-nine,
Lie down on straw, tho' on his line
The bedding rot, and in his chest
The food of moths and worms at best,
Yet few wou'd hold him as possest,
Because the bulk of all mankind,
Are equally absurd and blind.
Thou dotard scorn'd in heav'n and here,
Do you still watch your wealth, for fear
Of want yourself, when in the end,
Your son and servant all shall spend?
For what a trifle wou'd each day,
Take from your capital away,
Shou'd you once venture to produce,
Some better oil from out your cruise;
Both for your cabbage and your hair,
Uncomb'd, and scurf'd for want of care?
If any pittance will suffice,
For what are all your oaths and lies,
Why do your frauds and thefts abound
In ev'ry quarter? are you sound?
If you shou'd be so indiscreet,
To pelt the mob along the streets,
Or use the slaves you bought as bad,
Each boy and girl wou'd call you mad.
You hang your wife, and in despight
Your mother poison, are you right?
For why? because you did not do
The fact at the same place, nor drew
The sword to perpetrate your shame,
As mad Orestes slew the dame?
Think you his madness did proceed,
Merely from this flagitious deed,
Or that he was not rather wrought
By furies, ere he ev'n in thought
Cou'd cut his mother's throat — but stay —
Ev'n from the time that you wou'd say,
A dang'rous fit had seiz'd her son,
Nought reprehensible was done.
He did not dare Electra seize,
Nor draw his sword on Pylades,
He only his hot wrath to vend,
Call'd her a fury, and his friend
Some other most outrageous name,
Which from his indignation came.
Opimius, who amidst his hoard,
Cou'd nothing to himself afford,
Who us'd to drink from potter's clay
Veientan , on a holiday,
While dregs, or any kind of stuff,
Were for a work-day well enough,
Was lately seiz'd, and like to die
Of a prodigious lethargy,
In such that his triumphant heir,
With eager joy already there,
About his keys and coffers ran —
His doctor, a most active man,
And faithful too, did thus contrive
The means his patient to revive:
He bade them bring the table out,
And throw the money bags about,
Then certain came to count the pelf —
Which, rais'd at once, he did himself.
Then thus the doctor spake, " beware,
Or all goes to your greedy heir; "
" What, while I am living? " — " if you chuse
To live, you must the methods use,
Watch — bustle, " " what wou'd you persuade? "
" Why your poor body's so decay'd,
Unless your stomach is renew'd,
Your veins will fail for lack of food —
Why do you hesitate, th'advice
Is good, here take this bowl of rice: "
" What cost it? " " never mind the price; "
" But what, I say? " " three farthings; " " oh!
What signifies which way I go,
Whether I die of my disease,
Or rapine, theft, and doctor's fees. " —
Who therefore is quite sane and cool?
Why ev'ry man, that's not a fool.
What is the churl? give him his due,
He is both fool and madman too.
But say a person is not near ,
Are therefore his conceptions clear?
By no means in the world — — why so,
Good master Stoic? — you shall know;
Suppose that Craterus shou'd tell
This patient, that his heart is well.
Is he then right, and shall he rise?
The doctor certainly denies,
If in his reins, or either side,
The poignant symptoms still abide.
This person is quite clear of both,
The miser's crime, and breach of oath.
Let him then sacrifice a swine,
In honour to the pow'rs divine —
But he is vain and bold — away
Conduct him to Anticyra.
For what's the difference in th'abuse,
Whether you waste your wealth profuse,
Or let it have no end or use?
Opidius Servius, rich and great,
In an old family estate
Divided (as the story runs)
Two of his farms betwixt his sons,
And when upon his dying bed
He call'd his sons, and thus he said —
" Aulus, when thee a little lad,
I saw so free with what you had,
And bear more loosely than the rest
Your nuts, and play-things in your breast,
Which you wou'd give or game away —
Thee too, Tiberius, when at play,
I mark'd to count your toys, and hide;
I fear'd lest both there shou'd betide
A phrenzy of a diff'rent cast,
Lest he shou'd learn to live too fast
Of Nomentanus, and that you
Might, like the scrub Cicuta, do;
Wherefore, by all the Gods adjur'd,
Let me have each of you secur'd;
Aulus, lest all by you be spent —
Tiberius, or that you augment
Too much, what in your father's sense
And nature, is a competence.
Besides lest glory with its glare
Beguile you, both of you shall swear,
That he who shall be Edile first,
Or Praetor, be cut off and curst.
Wou'd you destroy your wealth and ease,
By largesses of beans and pease,
That in the Circus you may strut
At large, or have your statue cut,
And there in brazen dulness stand,
A dupe depriv'd of cash and land?
Yes, you wou'd have Agrippa's praise —
A silly fox that over-plays
His cunning, nor can have the heart
To act the lion's noble part. "
Atrides, whence the royal word,
That Ajax shou'd not be interr'd?
" I am a king, " — as you think fit,
Born a plebeian I submit.
" And just was the severe decree,
Which if you do not clearly see,
You have my leave to speak your mind. "
Great king, may all the gods combin'd,
Grant you from conquer'd Troy to make
A happy voy'ge — so I may take
The liberty of pro and con ,
To ask and to reply — " Go on. " —
Then why does Ajax so renown'd,
And only to Achilles found
Inferior, rot above the ground?
Oft fam'd for saving yours and you,
That Priam, and his people too,
May triumph in his fate and shame,
That made their youths endure the same?
" So great the phrenzy of his brain,
By him a thousand sheep were slain,
Which at the time he thought to be
My brother, and my friends and me. "
When thou humanity's disgrace,
At Aulis didst thy daughter place
Before the shrine, and on her head
The consecrated salt you shed,
Cou'd you a man of sense be said?
" Why not? " — why what did Ajax do,
Who without cause the mutton slew?
Why he abstain'd from wife and child,
Tho' each Atrides he revil'd:
He hurt not Teucer in his rage,
Nor with Ulysses did engage.
" To loose my fleet from th'hostile shore
Wise I appeas'd the gods with gore. " —
What, with your own, thou madman? — " yea —
But mad not in the least degree. "
Who'er false images has built,
Form'd in the hurry of his guilt,
Will be esteem'd disturb'd in mind,
Nor does it boot what he's defin'd,
Or fool or furious — Ajax doats,
Who harmless sheep to death devotes:
He who for empty fame commits
An horror, is he in his wits?
And is your wicked heart allied,
To purity, when swoln with pride?
If any man shou'd in his chair ,
Conduct a lamb to take the air,
And for her maids, gold, garments get,
And call it bantling or pusette ,
And ev'n design her for the bed
Of some stout youth, to such a head
The Praetor wou'd without delay
All conduct of itself gainsay;
And give up to his friends and heirs,
The management of his affairs.
What if a sire his girl depute,
A victim for the bleating mute,
Are his brains right? no, 'twill not suit.
Wherefore whenever in one mind
Are folly and perverseness join'd,
There's rank insanity, for sin
And raving madness are a-kin.
Fond of frail fame, the warrior's pains,
End in the cracking of his brains.
Come on — let Nomentanus bear
The last, that is the squand'rer's share:
For reason this conclusion makes,
None are more mad than foolish rakes.
This fellow, after he was paid
A thousand talents, instant made
An edict, that next morn for state,
The fruit'rer, fishmonger shou'd wait,
The poult'rer and perfumer too,
The play'rs, with that indecent crew
That traffic in the Tuscan street,
With all that dealt in oil or meat.
Well what was the event? — they came.
The bawd the first began to frame
His speech, " whatever I or these
Possess at home, is, if you please
Your own, which you may take away,
Alike to-morrow, or to-day. "
Now hear with what benign concern,
The youth bespeaks them in his turn.
" In boots upon Lucanian snows,
You take a comfortless repose,
That I may sup upon a boar;
You fish upon the wintry shore.
I pass my time without employ,
This wealth unworthy to enjoy.
Here take ye, every one your due —
A million sesterces for you;
For you as much; for you twice-told,
With whose fair spouse I make so bold,
When to my call at midnight sold. "
Aesopus' son by folly taught,
To waste a million at a draught,
Dissolv'd in vinegar a pearl,
He ravish'd from his fav'rite girl;
Not one jot wiser to be sure,
Than if he'd thrown it in the sew'r.
The boys of Arrius, curious twins
In trifles as enormous sins,
Were wont on nightingales to feed
At any price — say, was their deed
Of sense or fondness, and of right,
To be put down in black or white?
If once you see a grey-beard take
To toys, and baby-houses make,
Yoke mice to go-carts, pebbles hide,
To play at odd and even, ride
About the house upon a cane,
You'd think his phrenzy very plain.
If it's as childish as all this
In reason's eye, to love a miss ,
And that it matters not, if you
Play in the dust, as wont to do
When three years old, or shou'd deplore
Your fate in fondness to a whore:
I ask you if you will behave
Like Polemo reform'd, and wave
The ensigns of your fond disease,
Your mantle, garters below knees,
And lac'd cravat, as it is said
He did with liquor in his head,
And took by stealth his chaplet off,
Converted by th'abstemious soph.
If to a boy that's cross in grain
You offer apples, he'll refrain —
" Here take them, little rogue. " — Not I —
But if they are not giv'n he'll cry.
A whining lover in disgrace,
Barr'd out is in the self-same case.
When with himself he argues so,
Whether he shall or shall not go
Unto the place for which he steers,
Altho' unsent for, and adheres
Ev'n to the hated threshold — " What!
When dunn'd to see her, shall I not?
Or shall I not myself befriend,
And rather all my sorrows end?
Shut out — recall'd — shall I repeat
My suit — no — shou'd she at my feet
Implore me; " — lo! the servant here,
Whose head's a thousand times more clear —
" O Sir, in things that have no mean,
Our conduct cannot be foreseen,
And govern'd by a rule and form:
In love these contradictions swarm —
War — peace anon, which as they veer
Like fortune or the atmosphere,
If any one to fix shou'd try,
He'd do no better, by the bye,
Than if he rav'd and play'd the fool
By gamut, or by grammar-rule. "
When taking from Picenian fruit,
The seeds you to the cieling shoot,
It gives you joy — are you yourself?
Or when you act a fondling elf
In impotence, and lisp, and toy,
Are you then wiser than a boy
Who builds dirt-houses; as he plays?
How think you too of bloody frays,
And stirr'd by swords how fire will blaze!
When Marius, who had Hellas smote,
Did death unto himself devote,
Was he then mad, or will you free
The culprit from his lunacy,
And so condemn him for the fact
By being in your terms exact?
A wretch in years, a freedman's son,
Was seen about the streets to run
With washen hands, at early day,
And " me alone, (for that I pray,
Is no great thing for pow'rs like you,
Ye Gods, which all with ease can do)
Save me alone from death and hell. "
This man in eyes and ears was well,
But him if e'er his lord should sell,
He must his intellects exclude,
Unless he wanted to be sued.
Such (says Chrysippus) must be clast
'Mongst numbers of Menenian cast.
" O thou! that giv'st, or canst remove
The worst afflictions, sov'reign Jove! "
(Cries the fond mother of a lad,
Bed-rid five weeks and very bad)
" If this cold quartan shall recede
The first day, that a fast's decreed,
In Tiber naked shall he stand. " —
Shou'd luck, or some physician's hand,
From dang'rous case restore the boy,
The mother will herself destroy,
By stripping him in frantic vein,
And bringing back the fit again.
How driv'n to such a foolish freak?
Why superstition makes her weak.
These instances, attacks to stave,
That eighth wise man Stertinius gave
In friendship, that some future day
I might the Cavillers repay.
Whoever calls me mad, shall hear
The same re-echoed in his ear,
And be compell'd to turn his mind,
Upon the bag, that hangs behind."
" Stoic (so may you re-imburse
Your damages and make a purse)
Of what infatuation, pray,
(Since there are many kinds you say)
Am I by thee as guilty found?
For to myself I seem quite sound."
" When mad Agave bears the head
Of her unhappy son, that bled
By her own hands, does she conceive
Herself a fury?" — " give me leave,
I'll own the truth, I am a fool,
And in my senses not quite cool,
Only speak out, and tell me all
That I particularly ail" — " I shall —
First you're a builder, that's to vie
With giants, tho' but two feet high.
Yet you the self same dwarf deride
When little Turbo's strut and pride
In armour far too big you see —
Pray are you less a jest than he?
What if Maecenas built in Rome,
Must such a chap as you presume
'Gainst all propriety, so small,
And so dissimilar withal?
The young ones of an absent frog,
Crush'd by a bull-calf in the bog,
The mother was inform'd by one
That 'scap'd what an huge beast had done.
She asks him of the monster's size,
And puffing up herself she cries,
" Was he so great? " as great again —
Then after many a grievous strain,
" Was he as big as this? " indeed
You would not, shou'd you burst, succeed.
This little piece, that Esop drew,
Bears a strong likeness, sir, to you.
Now introduce your odes and lyre,
That is, add fewel to the fire,
The verses, which from men of sense
If e'er they come, you've some pretence.
I do not name your desp'rate wrath — "
" Have done" — " and greater than your cloth
Your coat — " " my philosophic friend,
Pray to your own affairs attend,
And those that nearer reason rave
Thou maddest of all mad-men wave."