Читать книгу The Art of Poetry: an Epistle to the Pisos - Гораций, Квинт Гораций Флакк - Страница 3

Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam

Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas

Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum

Definat in piscem mulier formosa supernè;

Spectatum admissi risum teneatis, amici?

Credite, Pisones, ifti tabulae fore librum

Persimilem, cujus, velut aegri somnia, vanae

What if a Painter, in his art to shine,

A human head and horse's neck should join;

From various creatures put the limbs together,

Cover'd with plumes, from ev'ry bird a feather;

And in a filthy tail the figure drop,

A fish at bottom, a fair maid at top:

Viewing a picture of this strange condition,

Would you not laugh at such an exhibition?

Trust me, my Pisos, wild as this may seem,

The volume such, where, like a sick-man's dream,

Fingentur species: ut nec pes, nec caput uni

Reddatur formae. Pictoribus atque Poëtis

Quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas:

Scimus, et hanc veniam petimusque damusque *viciffim:

Sed non ut placidis coëant immitia, non ut

Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.

Incoeptis gravibus plerumque et magna professis

Purpureus latè qui splendeat unus et alter

Assuitur pannus; cùm lucus et ara Dianae,

Et properantis aquae per amoenos ambitus agros,

Aut flumen Rhenum, aut pluvius describitur arcus.

Sed nunc non erat his locus: et fortasse cupressum

Scis simulare: quid hoc, si fractis enatat exspes

Extravagant conceits throughout prevail,

Gross and fantastick, neither head nor tail.

"Poets and Painters ever were allow'd

Some daring flight above the vulgar croud."

True: we indulge them in that daring flight,

And challenge in our turn, an equal right:

But not the soft and savage to combine,

Serpents to doves, to tigers lambkins join.

Oft works of promise large, and high attempt,

Are piec'd and guarded, to escape contempt,

With here and there a remnant highly drest,

That glitters thro' the gloom of all the rest.

Then Dian's grove and altar are the theme,

Then thro' rich meadows flows the silver stream;

The River Rhine, perhaps, adorns the lines,

Or the gay Rainbow in description shines.

These we allow have each their several grace;

But each and several now are out of place.

A cypress you can draw; what then? you're hir'd,

And from your art a sea-piece is requir'd;

Navibus, aere dato qui pingitur amphora coepit

Institui: currente rotâ cur urceus exit?

Denique sit quidvis simplex duntaxat et unum.

Maxima pars vatum, (pater, et juvenes patre digni)

Decipimur specie recti. Brevis esse laboro,

Obscurus sio: sectantem laevia, nervi

Desiciunt animíque: prosessus grandia turget:

Serpit humi tutus nimiùm timidùsque procellae.

Qui variare cupit rem prodigaliter unam,

Delphinum silvis appingit, fluctibus aprum.

In vitium dycit culpae fuga, si caret arte.

A shipwreck'd mariner, despairing, faint,

(The price paid down) you are ordain'd to paint.

Why dwindle to a cruet from a tun?

Simple be all you execute, and one!

Lov'd fire! lov'd sons, well worthy such a fire!

Most bards are dupes to beauties they admire.

Proud to be brief, for brevity must please,

I grow obscure; the follower of ease

Wants nerve and soul; the lover of sublime

Swells to bombast; while he who dreads that crime,

Too fearful of the whirlwind rising round,

A wretched reptile, creeps along the ground.

The bard, ambitious fancies who displays,

And tortures one poor thought a thousand ways,

Heaps prodigies on prodigies; in woods

Pictures the dolphin, and the boar in floods!

Thus ev'n the fear of faults to faults betrays,

Unless a master-hand conduct the lays.

Aemilium circa ludum faber imus et ungues

Exprimet, et molles imitabitur aere capillos,

Infelix operis summâ, quia ponere totum

Nesciet: hunc ego me, si quid componere curem,

Non magis esse velim, quàm pravo vivere naso,

Spectandum nigris oculis, nigroque capillo.

Sumite materiam vostris, qui scribitis, aequam

Viribus: et versate diu, quid ferre recusent

Quid valeant humeri. Cui lecta potenter erit res,

Nec facundia deferet hunc, nec lucidus ordo.

Ordinis haec virtus erit et venus, aut ego fallor,

Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici

Pleraque differat, et praesens in tempus omittat.

An under workman, of th' Aemilian class,

Shall mould the nails, and trace the hair in brass,

Bungling at last; because his narrow soul

Wants room to comprehend a perfect whole.

To be this man, would I a work compose,

No more I'd wish, than for a horrid nose,

With hair as black as jet, and eyes as black as sloes.

Select, all ye who write, a subject fit,

A subject, not too mighty for your wit!

And ere you lay your shoulders to the wheel,

Weigh well their strength, and all their weakness feel!

He, who his subject happily can chuse,

Wins to his favour the benignant Muse;

The aid of eloquence he ne'er shall lack,

And order shall dispose and clear his track.

Order, I trust, may boast, nor boast in vain,

These Virtues and these Graces in her train.

What on the instant should be said, to say;

Things, best reserv'd at present, to delay;

Hoc amet, hoc spernat, promissi carminis auctor.

In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque ferendis,

Dixeris egregié, notum si callida verbum

Reddiderit junctura novum: si forté necesse est

Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum;

Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis

Continget: dabiturque licentia sumpta pudenter.

Et nova factaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si

Graeco fonte cadant, parcé detorta. Quid autem?

Caecilio, Plautoque dabit Romanus, ademptum

Virgilio, Varioque? ego cur acquirere pauca

Guiding the bard, thro' his continu'd verse,

What to reject, and when; and what rehearse.

On the old stock of words our fathers knew,

Frugal and cautious of engrafting new,

Happy your art, if by a cunning phrase

To a new meaning a known word you raise:

If 'tis your lot to tell, at some chance time,

"Things unattempted yet in prose or rhime,"

Where you are driv'n perforce to many a word

Which the strait-lac'd Cethegi never heard,

Take, but with coyness take, the licence wanted,

And such a licence shall be freely granted:

New, or but recent, words shall have their course,

If drawn discreetly from the Graecian source.

Shall Rome, Caecilius, Plautus, fix your claim,

And not to Virgil, Varius, grant the same?

Or if myself should some new words attain,

Shall I be grudg'd the little wealth I gain?

Si possum, invideor; cùm lingua Catonis et Ennî

Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum

Nomina protulerit? Licuit, semperque licebit

Signatum praesente notâ procudere nomen.

Ut silvae foliis pronos mutantur in annos;

Prima cadunt: ita verborum vetus interit aetas,

Et juvenum ritu florent modò nata vigentque.

Debemur morti nos, nostraque; sive receptus

Terrâ Neptunus, classes Aquilonibus arcet,

Regis opus; sterilisve diu palus, aptaque remis,

Vicinas urbes alit, et grave sentit aratrum:

Seu cursum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis,

Doctus iter melius: mortalia facta peribunt,

Tho' Cato, Ennius, in the days of yore,

Enrich'd our tongue with many thousands more,

And gave to objects names unknown before?

No! it ne'er was, ne'er shall be, deem'd a crime,

To stamp on words the coinage of the time.

As woods endure a constant change of leaves,

Our language too a change of words receives:

Year after year drop off the ancient race,

While young ones bud and flourish in their place.

Nor we, nor all we do, can death withstand;

Whether the Sea, imprison'd in the land,

A work imperial! takes a harbour's form,

Where navies ride secure, and mock the storm;

Whether the Marsh, within whose horrid shore

Barrenness dwelt, and boatmen plied the oar,

Now furrow'd by the plough, a laughing plain,

Feeds all the cities round with fertile grain;

Or if the River, by a prudent force,

The corn once flooding, learns a better course.

Nedum sermonum stet honos, et gratia vivax.

Multa renascentur, quae jam cecidêre; cadentque

Quae nunc sunt in honore vocabula, si volet usus,

Quem penés arbitrium est, et jus, et norma loquendi.

Res gestae regumque ducumque et tristia bella,

Quo scribi possent numero, monstravit Homerus.

Versibus impariter junctis querimonia primúm,

Pòst etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.

Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiserit auctor,

Grammatici certant, et adhuc sub judice lis est.

Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo.

Hunc socci cepêre pedem, grandesque cothurni,

Alternis aptum sermonibus, et populares

Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.

The works of mortal man shall all decay;

And words are grac'd and honour'd but a day:

Many shall rise again, that now are dead;

Many shall fall, that now hold high the head:

Custom alone their rank and date can teach,

Custom, the sov'reign, law, and rule of speech.

For deeds of kings and chiefs, and battles fought,

What numbers are most fitting, Homer taught:

Couplets unequal were at first confin'd

To speak in broken verse the mourner's mind.

Prosperity at length, and free content,

In the same numbers gave their raptures vent;

But who first fram'd the Elegy's small song,

Grammarians squabble, and will squabble long.

Archilochus, 'gainst vice, a noble rage

Arm'd with his own Iambicks to engage:

With these the humble Sock, and Buskin proud

Shap'd dialogue; and still'd the noisy croud;

Musa dedit fidibus divos, puerosque deorum,

Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,

Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.

Descriptas servare vices, operumque colores,

Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, poëta salutor?

Cur nescire, pudens pravè, quàm discere malo?

Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult;

Indignatur item privatis ac prope socco

Dignis carminibus narrari coena Thyestae.

Singula quaeque locum teneant sortita decenter.

Embrac'd the measure, prov'd its ease and force,

And found it apt for business or discourse.

Gods, and the sons of Gods, in Odes to sing,

The Muse attunes her Lyre, and strikes the string;

Victorious Boxers, Racers, mark the line,

The cares of youthful love, and joys of wine.

The various outline of each work to fill,

If nature gives no power, and art no skill;

If, marking nicer shades, I miss my aim,

Why am I greeted with a Poet's name?

Or if, thro' ignorance, I can't discern,

Why, from false modesty, forbear to learn!

A comick incident loaths tragick strains:

Thy feast, Thyestes, lowly verse disdains;

Familiar diction scorns, as base and mean,

Touching too nearly on the comick scene.

Each stile allotted to its proper place,

Let each appear with its peculiar grace!

Interdum tamen et vocem comoedia tollit;

Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore;

Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri.

Telephus aut Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,

Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba,

Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querelâ.

Non satis est pulchra esse poëmata; dulcia sunto,

Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto.

Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent

Humani vultus; si vis me flere, dolendum est

Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent.

Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqueris,

Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: tristia moestum

Vultum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum;

Yet Comedy at times exalts her strain,

And angry Chremes storms in swelling vein:

The tragick hero, plung'd in deep distress,

Sinks with his fate, and makes his language less.

Peleus and Telephus, poor, banish'd! each

Drop their big six-foot words, and sounding speech;

Or else, what bosom in their grief takes part,

Which cracks the ear, but cannot touch the heart?

'Tis not enough that Plays are polish'd, chaste,

Or trickt in all the harlotry of taste,

They must have passion too; beyond controul

Transporting where they please the hearer's soul.

With those that smile, our face in smiles appears;

With those that weep, our cheeks are bath'd in tears:

To make me grieve, be first your anguish shown,

And I shall feel your sorrows like my own.

Peleus, and Telephus! unless your stile

Suit with your circumstance, I'll sleep, or smile.

Features of sorrow mournful words require;

Anger in menace speaks, and words of fire:

Ludentem, lasciva; severum, seria dictu.

Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem

Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut impellit ad iram,

Aut ad humum moerore gravi deducit, et angit:

Post effert animi motus interprete linguâ.

Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta,

Romani tollent equitesque patresque chachinnum.

Intererit multum, Divusne loquatur, an heros;

Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juventâ

Fervidus; an matrona potens, an sedula nutrix;

Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli;

Colchus, an Assyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis.

The playful prattle in a frolick vein,

And the severe affect a serious strain:

For Nature first, to every varying wind

Of changeful fortune, shapes the pliant mind;

Sooths it with pleasure, or to rage provokes,

Or brings it to the ground by sorrow's heavy strokes;

Then of the joys that charm'd, or woes that wrung,

Forces expression from the faithful tongue:

But if the actor's words belie his state,

And speak a language foreign to his fate,

Romans shall crack their sides, and all the town

Join, horse and foot, to laugh th' impostor down.

Much boots the speaker's character to mark:

God, heroe; grave old man, or hot young spark;

Matron, or busy nurse; who's us'd to roam

Trading abroad, or ploughs his field at home:

If Colchian, or Assyrian, fill the scene,

Theban, or Argian, note the shades between!

Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge,

Scriptor. Honoratum si forte reponis Achillem,

Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer,

Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis.

Sit Medea ferox invictaque, flebilis Ino,

Perfidus Ixion, Io vaga, tristis Orestes.

Si quid inexpertum scenae committis, et audes

Personam formare novam; servetur ad imum

Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.

Difficile est propriè communia dicere: tuque

Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,

Quàm si proferres ignota indictaque primus.

Publica materies privati juris erit, si

Non circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem;

Follow the Voice of Fame; or if you feign,

The fabled plan consistently sustain!

If great Achilles you bring back to view,

Shew him of active spirit, wrathful too;

Eager, impetuous, brave, and high of soul,

Always for arms, and brooking no controul:

Fierce let Medea seem, in horrors clad;

Perfidious be Ixion, Ino sad;

Io a wand'rer, and Orestes mad!

Should you, advent'ring novelty, engage

Some bold Original to walk the Stage,

Preserve it well; continu'd as begun;

True to itself in ev'ry scene, and one!

Yet hard the task to touch on untried facts:

Safer the Iliad to reduce to acts,

Than be the first new regions to explore,

And dwell on themes unknown, untold before.

Quit but the vulgar, broad, and beaten round,

The publick field becomes your private ground:

Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus

Interpres; nec desilies imitator in arctum,

Unde pedem proferre pudor vetet aut operis lex.

Nec sic incipies, ut scriptor cyclicus olim:

fortunam priami cantabo, et nobile bellum.

Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu?

Parturiunt montes: nascetur ridiculus mus.

Quanto rectius hic, qui nil molitur inepte!

dic mihi, musa, virum, captae post moenia trojae,

qui mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes.

Non fumum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem

Cogitat, ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat,

Antiphaten, Scyllamque, et cum Cylope Charibdin.

Nor word for word too faithfully translate;

Nor leap at once into a narrow strait,

A copyist so close, that rule and line

Curb your free march, and all your steps confine!

Be not your opening fierce, in accents bold,

Like the rude ballad-monger's chaunt of old;

"The fall of Priam, the great Trojan King!

Of the right noble Trojan War, I sing!"

Where ends this Boaster, who, with voice of thunder,

Wakes Expectation, all agape with wonder?

The mountains labour! hush'd are all the spheres!

And, oh ridiculous! a mouse appears.

How much more modestly begins HIS song,

Who labours, or imagines, nothing wrong!

"Say, Muse, the Man, who, after Troy's disgrace,

In various cities mark'd the human race!"

Not flame to smoke he turns, but smoke to light,

Kindling from thence a stream of glories bright:

Antiphates, the Cyclops, raise the theme;

Scylla, Charibdis, fill the pleasing dream.

Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri,

Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo:

Semper ad eventum festinat; et in medias res,

Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit: et quae

Desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit:

Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,

Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.

Tu, quid ego et populus mecum desideret, audi;

Si fautoris eges aulea manentis, et usque

Sessuri, donec cantor, Vos plaudite, dicat:

Aetatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores,

Mobilibusque decor naturis dandus et annis.

Reddere qui voces jam scit puer, et pede certo

Signat humum; gestit paribus colludere, et iram

Colligit ac ponit temerè, et mutatur in horas.

He goes not back to Meleager's death,

With Diomed's return to run you out of breath;

Nor from the Double Egg, the tale to mar,

Traces the story of the Trojan War:

Still hurrying to th' event, at once he brings

His hearer to the heart and soul of things;

And what won't bear the light, in shadow flings.

So well he feigns, so well contrives to blend

Fiction and Truth, that all his labours tend

True to one point, persu'd from end to end.

Hear now, what I expect, and all the town,

If you would wish applause your play to crown,

And patient sitters, 'till the cloth goes down!

_Man's several ages _with attention view,

His flying years, and changing nature too.

_The Boy _who now his words can freely sound,

And with a steadier footstep prints the ground,

Places in playfellows his chief delight,

Quarrels, shakes hands, and cares not wrong or right:

Sway'd by each fav'rite bauble's short-liv'd pow'r,

In smiles, in tears, all humours ev'ry hour.

Imberbus juvenis, tandem custode remoto,

Gaudet equis canibusque et aprici gramine campi;

Cereus in vitium flecti, monitoribus asper,

Utilium tardus provisor, prodigus aeris,

Sublimis, cupidusque, et amata relinquere pernix.

Conversis studiis, aetas animusque virilis

Quaerit opes et amicitias, infervit honori;

Conmisisse cavet quòd mox mutare laboret.

Multa senem circumveniunt incommoda; vel quod

Quaerit, et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti;

Vel quòd res omnes timidè gelidèque ministrat,

Dilator, spe lentus, iners, pavidusque futuri;

The beardless Youth, at length from tutor free,

Loves horses, hounds, the field, and liberty:

Pliant as wax, to vice his easy soul,

Marble to wholesome counsel and controul;

Improvident of good, of wealth profuse;

High; fond, yet fickle; generous, yet loose.

To graver studies, new pursuits inclin'd,

Manhood, with growing years, brings change of mind:

Seeks riches, friends; with thirst of honour glows;

And all the meanness of ambition knows;

Prudent, and wary, on each deed intent,

Fearful to act, and afterwards repent.

Evil in various shapes _Old Age _surrounds;

Riches his aim, in riches he abounds;

Yet what he fear'd to gain, he dreads to lose;

And what he sought as useful, dares not use.

Timid and cold in all he undertakes,

His hand from doubt, as well as weakness, shakes;

Hope makes him tedious, fond of dull delay;

Dup'd by to-morrow, tho' he dies to-day;

Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti

Se puero, censor, castigatorque minorum.

Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum,

Multa recedentes adimunt: ne forte seniles

Mandentur juveni partes, pueroque viriles.

Semper in adjunctis aevoque morabimur aptis.

Aut agitur res In scenis, aut acta refertur:

Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem,

Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quae

Ipse sibi tradit spectator: non tamen intus

Digna geri promes in scenam: multaque tolles

Ex oculis, quae mox narret facundia praesens:

Ill-humour'd, querulous; yet loud in praise

Of all the mighty deeds of former days;

When he was young, good heavens, what glorious times!

Unlike the present age, that teems with crimes!

Thus years advancing many comforts bring,

And, flying, bear off many on their wing:

Confound not youth with age, nor age with youth,

But mark their several characters with truth!

Events are on the stage in act display'd,

Or by narration, if unseen, convey'd.

Cold is the tale distilling thro' the ear,

Filling the soul with less dismay and fear,

Than where spectators view, like standers-by,

The deed submitted to the faithful eye.

Yet force not on the stage, to wound the sight,

Asks that should pass within, and shun the light!

Many there are the eye should ne'er behold,

But touching Eloquence in time unfold:

Ne pueros coram populo Medea trucidet;

Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus;

Aut in avem Procne vertatur, Cadmus in anguem.

Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.

Neve minor, neu sit quinto productior actu

Fabula, quae posci vult, et spectata reponi

Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus

Inciderit: nec quarta loqui persona laboret.

Actoris partes Chorus, officiumque virile

Defendat: neu quid medios intercinat actus,

Quod non proposito conducat et haereat apte.

Ille bonis faveatque, et concilietur amicis,

Et regat iratos, et amet peccare timentes:

Who on Medea's parricide can look?

View horrid Atreus human garbage cook?

If a bird's feathers I see Progne take,

If I see Cadmus slide into a snake,

My faith revolts; and I condemn outright

The fool that shews me such a silly sight.

Let not your play have fewer acts than five,

Nor more, if you would wish it run and thrive!

Draw down no God, unworthily betray'd,

Unless some great occasion ask his aid!

Let no fourth person, labouring for a speech,

Make in the dialogue a needless breach!

An actor's part the Chorus should sustain,

Gentle in all its office, and humane;

Chaunting no Odes between the acts, that seem

Unapt, or foreign to the general theme.

Let it to Virtue prove a guide and friend,

Curb tyrants, and the humble good defend!

Ille dapes laudet mensae brevis, ille salubrem

Justitiam, legesque, et apertis otia portis:

Ille tegat commisia, Deosque precetur et oret,

Ut redeat miseris, abeat fortuna superbis.

Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalco vincta, tubaeque

aemula; sed tenuis, simplexque foramine pauco,

Aspirare et adesse choris erat utilis, atque

Nondum spissa nimis complere sedilia flatu:

Quo fanè populus numerabilis, utpote parvus

Et frugi castusque verecundusque coibat.

Postquam coepit agros extendere victor, et urbem

Laxior amplecti murus, vinoque diurno

Placari Genius sestis impune diebus,

Loud let it praise the joys that Temperance waits;

Of Justice sing, the real health of States;

The Laws; and Peace, secure with open gates!

Faithful and secret, let it heav'n invoke

To turn from the unhappy fortune's stroke,

And all its vengeance on the proud provoke!

The Pipe of old, as yet with brass unbound,

Nor rivalling, as now, the Trumpet's sound,

But slender, simple, and its stops but few,

Breath'd to the Chorus; and was useful too:

For feats extended, and extending still,

Requir'd not pow'rful blasts their space to fill;

When the thin audience, pious, frugal, chaste,

With modest mirth indulg'd their sober taste.

But soon as the proud Victor spurns all bounds,

And growing Rome a wider wall surrounds;

When noontide cups, and the diurnal bowl,

Licence on holidays a flow of soul;

Accessit numerisque modisque licentia major.

Indoctus quid enim saperet liberque laborum,

Rusticus urbano confusus, turpis honesto?

Sic priscae motumque et luxuriem addidit arti

Tibicen, traxitque vagus per pulpita vestem:

Sic etiam fidibus voces crevere feveris,

Et tulit eloquium insolitum facundia praeceps;

Utiliumque sagax rerum, et divina futuri,

Sortilegis non discrepuit sententia Delphis.

Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum,

Mox etiam agrestes Satyros nudavit, et asper

Incolumi gravitate jocum tentavit: eò quod

A richer stream of melody is known,

Numbers more copious, and a fuller tone.

——For what, alas! could the unpractis'd ear

Of rusticks, revelling o'er country cheer,

A motley groupe! high, low; and froth, and scum;

Distinguish but shrill squeak, and dronish hum?–

The Piper, grown luxuriant in his art,

With dance and flowing vest embellishes his part!

Now too, its pow'rs increas'd, the Lyre severe

With richer numbers smites the list'ning ear:

Sudden bursts forth a flood of rapid song,

Rolling a tide of eloquence along:

Useful, prophetic, wise, the strain divine

Breathes all the spirit of the Delphick shrine.

He who the prize, a filthy goat, to gain,

At first contended in the tragick strain,

Soon too—tho' rude, the graver mood unbroke,—

Stript the rough satyrs, and essay'd a joke:

Illecebris erat et gratâ novitate morandus

Spectator functusque sacris, et potus, et exlex.

Verum ita risores, ita commendare dicaces

Conveniet Satyros, ita vertere seria ludo;

Ne quicunque Deus, quicunque adhibebi tur heros [sic]

Regali conspectus in auro nuper et ostro,

Migret in obscuras humili sermone tabernas

Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes et inania captet [sic]

Effutire leves indigna tragoedia versus,

Ut festis matrona moveri jussa diebus,

Intererit Satyris paulum pudibunda protervis.

Non ego inornata et dominantia nomina solum

Verbaque, Pisones, Satyrorum scriptor amabo

Nec sic enitar tragico differre colori,

For holiday-spectators, flush'd, and wild,

With new conceits, and mummeries, were beguil'd.

Yet should the Satyrs so chastise their mirth,

Temp'ring the jest that gives their sallies birth;

Changing from grave to gay, so keep the mean,

That God or Heroe of the lofty scene,

In royal gold and purple seen but late,

May ne'er in cots obscure debase his state,

Lost in low language; nor in too much care

To shun the ground, grasp clouds, and empty air.

With an indignant pride, and coy disdain,

Stern Tragedy rejects too light a vein:

Like a grave Matron, destin'd to advance

On solemn festivals to join the dance,

Mixt with the shaggy tribe of Satyrs rude,

She'll hold a sober mien, and act the prude.

Let me not, Pisos, in the Sylvan scene,

Use abject terms alone, and phrases mean;

Nor of high Tragick colouring afraid,

Neglect too much the difference of shade!

Ut nihil intersit Davusne loquatur et audax

Pythias emuncto lucrata Simone talentum,

An custos famulusque Dei Silenus alumni.

Ex noto fictum carmen sequar: ut sibi quivis

Speret idem; sudet multum, frustraque laboret

Ausus idem: tantum series juncturaque pollet:

Tantum de medio sumtis accedit honoris.

Silvis deducti caveant, me judice, Fauni,

Ne velut innati triviis, ac pene forenses,

Aut nimium teneris juvenentur versibus umquam,

Aut immunda crepent ignominiosaque dicta.

Offenduntur enim, quibus est equus, et pater, et res;

Nec, si quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emtor,

Aequis accipiunt animis, donantve coronâ.

Davus may jest, pert Pythias may beguile

Simo of cash, in a familiar style;

The same low strain Silenus would disgrace,

Servant and guardian of the Godlike race.

Let me on subjects known my verse so frame,

So follow it, that each may hope the same;

Daring the same, and toiling to prevail,

May vainly toil, and only dare to fail!

Such virtues order and connection bring,

From common arguments such honours spring.

The woodland Fauns their origin should heed,

Take no town stamp, nor seem the city breed:

Nor let them, aping young gallants, repeat

Verses that run upon too tender feet;

Nor fall into a low, indecent stile,

Breaking dull jests to make the vulgar smile!

For higher ranks such ribaldry despise,

Condemn the Poet, and withhold the prize.

Syllaba longa brevi subjecta, vocatur Iambus,

Pes citus: unde etiam Trimetris accrescere jussit

Nomen Iambeis, cum senos redderet ictus

Primus ad extremum similis sibi; non ita pridem,

Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad aures,

Spondeos stabiles in jura paterna recepit

Commodus et patiens: non ut de sede secundâ

Cederet, aut quartâ socialiter. Hic et in Accî

Nobilibus Trimetris apparet rarus, et Ennî.

In scenam missus cum magno pondere versus,

Aut operae celeris nimium curaque carentis,

Aut ignoratae premit artis crimine turpi.

Non quivis videt immodulata poëmata judex:

Et data Romanis venia est indigna poetis.

To a short Syllable a long subjoin'd

Forms an Iambick foot; so light a kind,

That when six pure Iambicks roll'd along,

So nimbly mov'd, so trippingly the song,

The feet to half their number lost their claim,

And Trimeter Iambicks was their name.

Hence, that the measure might more grave appear,

And with a slower march approach the ear,

From the fourth foot, and second, not displac'd,

The steady spondee kindly it embrac'd;

Then in firm union socially unites,

Admitting the ally to equal rights.

Accius, and Ennius lines, thus duly wrought,

In their bold Trimeters but rarely sought:

Yet scenes o'erloaded with a verse of lead,

A mass of heavy numbers on their head,

Speak careless haste, neglect in ev'ry part.

Or shameful ignorance of the Poet's art.

"Not ev'ry Critick spies a faulty strain,

And pardon Roman Poets should disdain."

Idcircòne vager, scribamque licenter? ut omnes

Visuros peccata putem mea; tutus et intra

Spem veniae cautus? vitavi denique culpam,

Non laudem merui.

Vos exemplaria Graeca

Nocturnâ versate manu, versate diurnâ.

At vestri proavi Plautinos et numeros, et

Laudavere sales; nimium patienter utrumque

(Ne dicam stultè) mirati: si modo ego et vos

Scimus inurbanum lepido seponere dicto,

Legitimumque sonum digitis callemus et aure.

Ignotum tragicae genus invenisse Camenae

Dicitur, et plaustris vexisse poëmata Thespis

Quae canerent agerentque, peruncti faecibus ora.