The Satires of Juvenal, Persius, Sulpicia, and Lucilius: Literally translated into English prose, with notes, chronological tables, arguments, &c.Persius
General
The Satires of Juvenal, Persius, Sulpicia, and Lucilius: Literally translated into English prose, with notes, chronological tables, arguments, &c.
Persius
Juvenal -- Translations into English; Verse satire, Latin -- Translations into English
When you say to your son, "The man is a fool that gives any thing
to his friend,[1011] or relieves the burden[1012] of his neighbor's
poverty," you are, in fact, teaching him to rob and cheat, and get
riches by any crime, of which as great a love exists in you as was that
of their country in the breast of the Decii;[1013] as much, if Greece
speaks truth, as Menæceus[1014] loved Thebes! in whose furrows[1015]
legions with their bucklers spring from the serpent's teeth, and at
once engage in horrid war, as though a trumpeter had arisen along with
them. Therefore you will see that fire[1016] of which you yourself
supplied the sparks, raging far and wide, and spreading universal
destruction. Nor will you yourself escape, poor wretch! but with loud
roar the lion-pupil[1017] in his den will mangle his trembling master.
Your horoscope is well known to the astrologers.[1018] Yes! but it is
a tedious business to wait for the slow-spinning[1019] distaffs. You
will be cut off long before your thread[1020] is spun out. You are long
ago standing in his way, and are a drag upon his wishes. Long since
your slow and stag-like[1021] age is irksome to the youth. Send for
Archigenes[1022] at once! and buy what Mithridates[1023] compounded,
if you would pluck another fig, or handle this year's roses. You must
possess yourself of that drug which every father, and every king,
should swallow before every meal.
I now present to you an especial gratification, to which you can find
no match on any stage, or on the platform of the sumptuous prætor.
If you only become spectator at what risk to life the additions to
fortune are procured, the ample store in the brass-bound[1024] chest,
the gold to be deposited in watchful Castor's[1025] temple; since Mars
the avenger has lost helmet and all, and could not even protect his
own property. You may give up, therefore, the games of Flora,[1026] of
Ceres,[1027] and of Cybele,[1028] such far superior sport is the real
business of life!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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