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Satire 3

All singers share this fault: among their friends

they won't perform, but music never ends

when everybody thinks it should be through.

Sardinia's Tigellius would do

that sort of thing. If Caesar, who could sway5

a man with force, had asked for him to play

while pleading friendship and their fathers' bond,

he would have failed to make the man respond.

He'd belt out “Io Bacche” just for fun

from egg hors d'oeuvres until the fruit was done—10

first in falsetto, then he would descend

to measures at the lyre's lowest end.

He vacillated. Often he would flee

as if escaping from the enemy;

more often he would creep along so slowly15

it appeared that he was bearing holy

offerings for Juno. He was prone

to keep two hundred slaves, but then might own

as few as ten. He would give grand accounts

of kings and tetrarchs, then he would announce,20

“A table with three legs, an oyster shell

that's filled with spotless salt, and, to repel

the icy cold, a toga (though it may be coarse) are all I ask for.”

So let's say

you gave this fellow who embodied thrift25

a million in sesterces as a gift.

Although he was “content” with simple ways,

his pockets would be empty in five days.

Throughout the night he would remain awake,

then snore throughout the day without a break.30

There never was a person so askew!

Somebody may now ask, “How about you?

Have you no faults?” Indeed, but not the same,

and maybe ones that are a bit more tame.

When Maenius decided to attack35

the name of Novius behind his back,

somebody interrupted him with,

“Hey! Do you not know yourself, or do you say you do not notice due to all your lies?” “I'm no self-critic,” Maenius replies.40

It's silly and obscene, this egotism,

and it deserves your public criticism.

For your own shortcomings, your eyes will burn,

then blur when smeared with balm. Why do they turn

as clear as any eagle's or a snake45

of Epidaurus when it's time to take

a look at how friends fail?—although what goes

around comes back again whenever those

who scrutinize your faults are these same friends:

“He is a bit pugnacious, and offends50 the keener noses of the present day.”

He may feel ridiculed when people say

he cuts his hair the way that bumpkins do,

his toga drags, and an ill-fitting shoe

keeps slipping off, but he's a decent guy—55

you won't find someone better if you try,

and vast capacities may hide within

that fellow's unsophisticated skin.

Once finished, shake yourself to check if seeds

of evil in your nature or bad deeds60

are sown within you; in neglected fields

we need to burn away the weedy yields.

Let's turn now to this subject: being blind,

a man who is in love can never find

his girlfriend's blemishes and may extol65

her flaws, just like Balbinus and the mole

of Hagna. With our friends I wish we'd make

a reasonably similar mistake

and ethics labeled it accordingly—

for if a friend has some deformity70

we should, like fathers with their kids, not shun

the handicap. A dad will name a son

who's crosseyed “Blinky.” If he is as tall

as Sisyphus the Midget, he will call

the son “Small Fry.” A bowlegged boy who limps75

will be affectionately known as “Gimps”

and one with twisted anklebones who hobbles

unsteadily will win the nickname “Wobbles.”

Somebody's tight with money? Let's just say

that he's “quite frugal.” Does a man display80

few signs of tactfulness or self-restraint?

Within his social crowd, he tries to paint

himself as “eager.” Is somebody loud

and blunt? Let's call him “candid” and “uncowed.”

Obnoxious? Let's relabel him “empassioned.”85

For me this practice shows how bonds are fashioned

and preserved once formed, and yet we turn

good habits on their head and foul an urn

that was pristine. When someone lives nearby

who is an unassuming, honest guy,90

we'll call him “Ox” or “Sluggo.” One who glides

past every obstacle and always hides

his naked flank from likely enemies

while life is churning with its jealousies

and innuendos will be labeled “fake”95

or “too conniving”—never “wide awake”

or “shrewd”—though if a person's so sincere

(as I would think, Maecenas, I appear

to you so often) that he'll interject,

perhaps, with chitchat, as his friends reflect100

or read, we say he's short on savoir faire.

Alas! Despite remaining unaware

of adverse consequences, we endure

this rule inflicted on ourselves! For sure,

there's no one born without some faults; the best105

possess those less substantial than the rest.

As is fair, any worthwhile friend will balance

my deficiencies against my talents,

and if he wants my friendship, he'll place weight

upon my qualities that compensate110

for my shortcomings—if, in fact, they do!

And if he is intending to pursue

my friendship, fairness means he must be weighed

upon that scale. No one should be dismayed

if he discovers pimples on a friend—115

unless he wants his own warts to offend.

If absolution is what someone wants,

he should expect to grant the same response.

Moreover, since we can't completely weed

out violent rage and errors of that breed120

for people stuck with their stupidity,

why couldn't Reason with validity

rely upon its weights and measurements

and match fair penalties to each offense?

Suppose a servant who had cleared a dish125

had licked some lukewarm sauce and tried the fish,

and then suppose his master had replied

by ordering the slave be crucified.

Sane men would call him more delirious

than Labeo. How much more serious130

and crazy would you call this violation? A friend commits a minor provocation which you must overlook or otherwise be thought ungracious. You then demonize him and avoid him like that man in debt135 who stays the furthest distance he can get from Ruso; once the dreaded Kalends come, unless that debtor somehow finds a sum of cash or loan, he's collared by the throat and has to listen to each anecdote140 that Ruso ever wrote. That friend may pee upon your couch while on a drinking spree or send Evander's cherished saucer flying off the table. Is this or, when dying of hunger, plucking chicken from your plate145 a reason why a friend is second-rate? What is my recourse if the fellow steals, betrays my trust, or welshes on his deals?

When up against the truth, those who proclaim

that all transgressions are about the same150

start hyperventilating. They deny

both instinct and tradition, and defy

expediency, which appears to be

the source of fairness and equality.

When brute-like men, a mute and lawless pack,155

first crawled into the world, they would attack

each other with their fists and nails, and then

with clubs, to steal an acorn or a den,

and then eventually armaments

that were developed by experience160

until they found the nouns and verbs that brought

their cries and stirrings into realms of thought.

Soon they were shunning conflict, fortifying

villages and making laws—denying

everyone the chance to pillage, loot,165

or carry off their wives, since the pursuit

of cunts provoked the most horrific wars

before Helen, though history ignores

men slain by those who were more powerful

while they were blithely rutting like a bull170

within his herd. If you decide to scan

the records of the history of man,

you will concede that we created courts

from fear of lawlessness. When nature sorts

out what is good, it cannot separate175

what's just from unjust or what should create

aversion to a thing we should pursue.

Nor should logic make us think it's true

that all offenses are identical—

from picking someone's baby vegetable180

to stealing sacred items in the night.

Let's use a scale imposing what is right,

so that we don't inflict the cruelest lashing

on someone who deserves a milder thrashing.

And if you cane a person who has earned185

a fiercer whipping, I am unconcerned

since you will tell me theft that's surreptitious

is just the same as robbery that's vicious,

and that your scythe would level small and great

offenses (if we'd let you legislate).190

If somebody is wise and well-to-do,

a shoemaker who makes the finest shoe,

and he alone is suave and king, then why

demand what's owned already?

The reply?

“You're missing what the father of our school,195

Chrysippus, had intended as the rule!

If someone wise has never made a pair

of shoes or sandals he himself could wear,

that man is still a cobbler.”

“How's that so?”

“It is just like Hermogenes; although200

he's silent, he retains his great cachet

as singer and musician, the same way

that wily Alfenus, once he discarded

his tools and shut his shop, was still regarded

as a cobbler in the truest sense205

that one who's wise displays more competence

than others in their fields of expertise,

and in this sense is king.”

“The urchins seize

your beard, and if your ‘sceptre’ won't repel

the mob, it crowds and bumps you as you yell210

and bluster back at them. O most sublime

of mighty kings, I will not take much time!

While you, as king, go bathing for small change

without a fawning aide except the strange

Crispinus, my good friends will not be stern215

when folly makes me fail; for them in turn

I'll gladly brush off any travesty

and thrive uncrowned more than ‘Your Majesty.’”