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
Do bodies projected from the petaurum,[1029] or they that come down
the tight-rope, furnish better entertainment than you, who take up
your constant abode in your Corycian[1030] bark, ever to be tossed up
and down by Corus and by Auster? the desperate merchant of vile and
stinking wares! You, who delight in importing the rich[1031] raisin
from the shores of ancient Crete, and wine-flasks[1032]--Jove's own
fellow-countrymen! Yet he that plants his foot with hazardous tread
by that perilous barter earns his bread, and makes the rope ward off
both cold and hunger. _You_ run _your_ desperate risk, for a thousand
talents and a hundred villas. Behold the harbor! the sea swarming
with tall ships! more than one half the world is now at sea. Wherever
the hope of gain invites, a fleet will come; nor only bound over the
Carpathian and Gætulian seas, but leaving Calpe[1033] far behind, hear
Phœbus hissing in the Herculean main. A noble recompense indeed for
all this toil! that you return home thence with well-stretched purse;
and exulting in your swelled money-bags,[1034] brag of having seen
Ocean's monsters,[1035] and young mermen!
A different madness distracts different minds. One, while in his
sister's arms, is terrified at the features and torches of the
Eumenides.[1036] Another, when he lashes the bull[1037], believes
it is Agamemnon or Ulysses roars. What though he spare his tunic or
his cloak, that man requires a keeper,[1038] who loads his ship with
a cargo up to the very bulwarks, and has but a plank[1039] between
himself and the wave. While the motive cause to all this hardship and
this fearful risk, is silver cut up into petty legends and minute
portraits. Clouds and lightning oppose his voyage. "All hands unmoor!"
exclaims the owner of the corn and pepper he has bought up. "This
lowering sky, that bank of sable clouds portends no ill! It is but
summer lightning!"
Unhappy wretch! perchance that selfsame night he will be borne down,
overwhelmed with shivering timbers and the surge, and clutch his
purse with his left hand and his teeth. And he, to whose covetous
desires[1040] but lately not all the gold sufficed which Tagus[1041] or
Pactolus[1042] rolls down in its ruddy sand, must now be content with a
few rags to cover his nakedness, and a scanty morsel, while as a "poor
shipwrecked mariner" he begs for pence, and maintains himself by his
painting of the storm.[1043]
Yet, what is earned by hardships great as these, involves still greater
care and fear to keep. Wretched, indeed, is the guardianship[1044] of a
large fortune.
Licinus,[1045] rolling in wealth, bids his whole regiment of slaves
mount guard with leathern buckets[1046] all in rows; in dread alarm
for his amber, and his statues, and his Phrygian marble,[1047] and his
ivory, and massive tortoise-shell.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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