almost line for line, had been our business, Barten
Holiday had done it already to our hands : and,
by the help of his learned notes and illustrations,
not only Juvenal and Persius, but what is yet
nore obaeore, his own verses, might be under-
ftood.

But he wrote for fame, and wrnte to scholars :
we write, only for the pleasure and' entertainment
of those gentlemen and ladies, who, though they
are not scholars, are not ignorant : persons of un-
derstanding and good sense ; who, not having been
conversant in the original, or Ut least not having
made Latin verse so much their business as to be
•ritict in it, would be glad to find, if the wit 0f



DRYi)EN'S TRANSLATION^.



o^ two gi«at authors be anfnrerable to their firme
and reputatioo in the worKL We have therefore
endesPNmred to give the public all the satisfiMStiaii
we are able m this kind.

And if we are not altogether so fchhfh! to our
authar, as, our predeceasors, Hobday and StapyU
t«B ; yet we may challenge to OMrselveisthii praise,
that we shall be for more pleasing to ouT roadttt
We have followed our autfaoi^ at'greater distance*
though not step by step, as they have done. For
oftentimes they have gone so close, that they have
trod on the heels of Juvenal and Pcrsius, and hurt
them by their too near approach. A noble anthor
would not be pursued too ckwe by a translator.
We lose his spirit, when we think to take hh
body. The grosser part remains with us, but the
soul k flown away, in some noble expression, or
wme delicate turn of words, or thought. Thus
HoKday, who made this way hia choice, seized
the meaning of Jnveoal ; bnt the poetry has always
scaped him.

They who win not grant me, that pleasure is
one of the ends of poetry, but that it is only i
means of compassing the only end, which is in-
struction; most yet allow, that without the means
of pleasure, the instruction is but a bare and dry
philosophy J a erode preparation of morals, which
wa may have from Aristotle and fipictetus, with
more profit than ftom any poet : neither Holiday
nor Stapylton have imiUted Juvenal, in the
poetical part of him, his diction and his elo-
cution. Nor had they been- poetS/ as neither of
them were; yet in the way they took, it was
impossible for them to have succeeded in the
poetic part. ''

The English verse, which we call heroic, consists
of more than ten syllables ; the Latin hexameter
sometimes rises to scventeei>; as for example, this
verse in Virgil;

Polverulenta pnfrem sonitu quatit ungula
campum.

Here is the difference of no less than seven ^llables
in a line betwixt the English and the Latin. Now
the medium of these, is about fourteen syllables ;
because the dactyle is a more frequent foot in
hexameters than the spondee.

But Holiday, without considering that he writ
with the disadvantage of four syllables less in every
ver^e, endeavours to make one of his lines to'com-
prehend the sense pf one of JuvenaPs. Ai'cording
to the fislsity of the proposition -was the success.
He was forced to crowd his verse with ill-soundmg
monosyllables, of which our barbarous language
aflbrdt him a wild ptenty j and by that meaos be



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JUVENAL.

wt&nk «l hit ^tntlc «ld, wbicb wm to make
a literal traotlatioa : his Terset have nothing of
tene in them, but only the worst part of it, the
rliyme; and that, into the bargain, is far firom
I^xmL Bot, which is more intolerable, by cramming
|iis ill-chosen, and worse sounding monosyllables
so dose together, the very sense which he en-
deavours to explain, is become more obscure than
that of bis author. So that Holiday himself can-
not be understood, without as large a commentary,
as that which he makes on his two authors. For
my own part, 1 can make a shift to find the mean-
ing of Juvenal without his notes but his transla-
tion is more diffi2ult than his author. And I find
beauties in the Latin to recompense my pains ;
but in Holiday and Stapylton, toy ears, in the
first place, are mortally offended ; and then their
fteote is so perplexed, that I return to the original,
as the more pleasing task, as well as the more
eisy.

This mast be said for our translation, that if we
give not the whole sense of Juvenal, yet we give
the most considerable part of it, we give it, in
genera], so clearly, that few notes are sufficient to
make us intelligible. We make our author at
least appear in a poetic dress. We have actually
node him more sounding, and more elegant, than
he was before in English : and have endeavoured
to make him speak that kind of English, whieh he
would have spoken had he lived hi England, and
had written to this age. If sometimes any of us
(and it is but seldom) make him express the customs
ind manners of our native country, rather than of
'Itome, it is, either when there was some kind of
analogy, betwixt their customs and ours ; or when,
to make him more easy to vulgar understandings,
We give him those manners which are familiar to
ns. But I defend not th'ts innovation, it is enough
tf I can eaccuae .it For, to speak sincerely, the
manners of nations and ages are not to be con-
founded : we should either make them Enrlish, or
leare them Roman* I^ this can neither be de-
fonded, nor excused, let it be pardoned, at least,
because it is acknowledged : and so much the more
easily, as being a foult which is never committed
without some pleasure to the reader.

Thus, my lord, hliving troubled you with a
tedious visit, the best manners wilt be shown in
the least ceremony. I will slip away while your
back is turned, and while 3rou are otherwise em-
ployed: with great confosioo, for havrog enter-
tabed you so long with this discourse ; and for
hafing no other recompense to make you, than
tha worthy Imboois ^ mj foUow-uiutertakefv in

VOL Xi^



SATIRE, I, 49T

this work, and the tbttnkful scknowltdgmanti*
prayers, and perpetual good wishes, o^
my lord,
your lordship's
most obliged, most humble,
and most obedient servant,
Aug. 18, 1693. ' JOHN BRYDEK,



ma FiftsT sATiat o»
JUVENAL.



TBI AtCOMEHT.

T«ft poet gives us first a kind of humoixMis reason
for his writing: that being provoked by hearing
so many ill poets rehearse their works, he does
himself justice on' them, by giving them as bad
as they bring. But, since no man will rank
himself with ill writers, it is easy to conclude,
that if such wretchKS could draw an audience,
he thought it no hard matter to excel them
and gain a greater esteem with the public. Next
be informs us more openly, why he rather
addicts himself to satire, than any other kind
of poetry. And here be discovers that it is
not so much his imlignation to ill poets, ak to
ill men, which has prompted him to' write.
He therefore give us a summary and general
view of the vices and follies reignins^ ia
his time. So that this fiint satire is the natural
ground-work of all the rest Ht reiu he confines
himself to no one subject, but strikes indifferently
at all men in his way: iu every following
satire he has chosen some particular moral which
be would inculcate j and lashes kome particular
vice or folly (an art with which ou r lampooners aro
not much acquainted). But our poet beinc
desirous to reform his own age, but jiot darinff
to attempt It by an overt-act of naming living pei^
TOos, mveighs only against those wlio were in.
famous in Che times immediately preceding hil,
whereby he not only gives a fair warning t^
great men, that their memory lies at the
mercy of future poets and historians, but also
with a finer stroke of his pen, brands even ths ^
livmg, and ]f»ersonates them under dead men's
names.

( have avoided as much as I could possibly tfit
Iwrrowed leamingof marginal notes and illustra-
tjons, and for that reason have translated this
satire somewhat largely. And freely own (it it
le a fault) that I have likewise omitted mtwt of
the proper names, beiause I thought they would
not much edify the reader. To conclude, if in '
two or three p.aces 1 have deserted all the com-
mentators. It IS because they first deserted my
author, or at least have left him in so much
obscurity, that too much room is left for
guestiing.



Sritt shall I hear, and never qnit the sqoiv,
StunnM with boans Codrus' llieseid, o'crando^ir?

Kk



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DRYDEWiS TRANSLATIONS.



Shall tikis tAfln^s tsfegiek and V other^s play
UnpunishM murder a long gammer's day ^
Huge Telephus, a formidable page,
Cries vengeance ; and Orestes* bulky rage,
Unsatisfy'd with margins cknely writ.
Foams o*ar the Covers, and not flntshM yet.
No man can take a more familiar note
Of his own home, than I of Valcan's grot.
Or Mars Kis grove, or hollow winds that blow
From /Btna^s top, or tortured ghosts below.
I know by rote the famM exploits of C?reece ;
The Centaurs* furj', and the golden fleece ;
Through the thick shades th' eternal scribbler

bawls,
And shades the statues on their pedestals.
The best and worst on the same theme employs
His Muse,' and plagues us with an equal noise.

Provok'd by these incorrigible fools,
I left declaiming in pedantic schools ;
Where, with men-boys, I strove to get renown.
Advising Sylla to a private gown.
But, since the world with writing is possest^
ril Versify in spite ; and do my best.
To make as much waste paper as the rest .

But why I lift aloft the Satire's rod,
And tread the path which fam'd Lucilius trod.
Attend the causes which my Muse have led :
When sapless eunuchs mount the marriage-bed.
When mannbh Mevia, that two-handed whore.
Astride on horse-back hunts the Tuscan boar.
When all our lords are by his wealth outvy'd,
Wliose razor on my callow beard was try'd ;
When I behold the spawn of conquerM Nile,
Crispinus, both in birth and manners vile.
Pacing in pomp, with cloke of Tyrian dye,
Chang'd oft a-day for needless luxury;
And finding oft occasion to be fann*d,
Ambitious to produce his lady-hand ;
Charged with light summer-rings his fingers

sweat.
Unable to support a gem of weight :
Such fblsome objects meeting every where,
*Tis hard to write, but harder to forbear.
To view so lewd a town, and to refrain.
What hoops of iron could my spleen contain I
When pleading Mat ho, borae abroad for air.
With his fat paunch fills his new-fashion*d chair.
And, after him, the wretch in pomp conveyed,
tVhose evidence his lord and friend betray 'd.
And but the wish'd occasion does attend.
From the poor nobles the last spoils to rend.
Whom ev'n spies dread as their superior fiend.
And bribe with presents ; or, when present* fail,
They send their prostituted wives for bail :
When night-performance holds the place of merit.
And brawn and back the next of kin disherit;
!Por such good parts are in preferme«t*s way.
The rich old madam never fails to pay
Her legacies, by nature's standard given.
One j^ains an ounce, another gains eleven :
A dear-bought bargain, all things duly weighed,
For which their thrice-concocted blood is paid :
With looks as wan, as he who in the brake
At unawares has trod upon a snake ;
Or play'd at Lyons a declaiming prizo.
For which the vanquished rbt'tt>rician dips.

What indignation boils within my veins.
When perjur'd guardians, proud with impious

gains,
Gbgke up the streets, too oairow for their trains 1



tHioK wards, by want bttntfd, loerhnti alpe lei
Too foul to name, too fulsome to be read !
When he who pill'd his j>roviuce scapes the lavs,
And keeps his money, though he \aA bi» cause:
His fine begg'd off, oontemns bis Infkmy,
Can rise at twelve, and get him drunk era thrsej
Enio3rs his exile, and, conderonM in vain,
Leaves thee, prevailing province, to cumplaia?

Such villathies rousM Horace into wrath 2
And 'tis more noble to ptirstie his path,
Than an old tale of Dioipede repeat.
Or labouring after Hercules to sweat.
Or wandering in the winding maze of Crete)
Or with the winged smith aloft to fly,
Or fluttering perish with hit foolish boy.

With what impatience most the Muse behold
The wife, by her procuring husband sold !
For though the law makes null th' adulterer's flaei
Of lands to her, the cuckold may tucoaed;
Who his taught eyes up to the cieling throwi^
And sleeps ail over but his wakefiU nose.
When he dares hope a colonel's command.
Whose coursers kept, ran out his father's Ind;
Who yet a stripling, Nero's chltfiot <lroTe,
Whirl'd o'er the streets, while his vain mastflt

strove
With boasted art to please his eimoch-lofe.

M'ould it not make a modest author daro
To draw his table-book within the square.
And fill with notes, when, loUii^ at his cass^
Maecenas-like, the happy rogua be sees
Borne by six weary'd slaves in open vfew,
Who cancel'd an old will, and ferg'd a new s
Made wealthy at the small expense of tignii^
With a wet seal, and a fi^esh interlining ^
The lady, next, requires a lashing line.
Who squees'd a toad into her husband's wiMS
So well the fashionable medicine thrives,
That now 'tis practis'c) ev'n by country wives: '
Poisoning, without Yegard of £une or fear:
And spotted corpse are frequent on the bier.
Would'st thou to honours and pretevnents cliaibt
Be bold in mischief, dare some nughty (Mme,
\M)ich dungeons, death, or banishmfc^t deserrei:
For virtue is but drily prais'd; and starves.
G reat men, to great crimes, owe their plate 4
Fair palaces, and furniture of coat ;
And high commands : a sneaking sin is lost.
Who can behold that rank old letcher keep
His son's con*upted wife, and hope to sleep }
Or that male-harlot, or that un^edg'd boy»
Kager to sin, before he can enjoy ?
If nature could not, anger would indite
Such woful stuff as 1 or Shadwell write.

Count from the time, since old Dencalkn'si
Rais'd by the flood, did on Parnassus float ;
And, scarcely mooring on the cliff, implor'd
An oracle how man might be restor'd ;
When soften'd stones and vital breath eiisu'4«
And virgins naked were by lovers vjew'd ;
Whatever since that golden age was done.
What human kind desires, and what they 1
Kage, passiotts, pleasures, impotence of will.
Shall this satirical collection fill.

What age so large a crop of vices bore.
Or when was avarice extended more ?
Wlien were the dice with more profusion thiWHif
The well-fiird fob not empty 'd now alone.
But gamesters for whole patrimonies play;
The steward briogii the deeds which most convcf



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JUVENAL. SATIRE Ilf.



%99i



The^loft «8tale : wfant more Ah«ii madae^s reignt.
When one ihort siuiiig naay ^hundreds ar^io^
And nvt enough is leSt him to supply
{kmr^-wnget, or a footman's livery )

Wbat a^ so many summer^seats did $nt ?
Or wbicb of our fic^re^hers iar'd so well,
>s OB peven dishes, ^ a private meal ?
Clients of old were feasted ; nopr a poor
Divided 4ole is dealt at th* outward door ;
Whicb by the lumgny rout is soon dispatoh'd :
The i?altry largess, too, severely watoh'd,
Ere given; and «ve^y fsce obsenr'd with care,
that no iotnadii^fucsU vmnxp a itbare.
Knopm you receive: the orier calls aloud
Our qLA ^o^ity of Trqjan -blood, [food.

Vi^g^pe among tbe «rowd iv their pcecarious
The pretprs, and tike trihuoes' voice Is beard ;
The .^«einan jostles, and wiU be proferrM;
First oome, first adnr'd, he cries ; and I, in spite
Of your great lordships, yrill Biaiiiuin my ri^bt
ThoughUirfi a slave, though my tomearsf are bor'd,
Tis n9t the birth, 'tis money ^iakes the lar4*
the rent of Av% fyir bouses I receive i
What^eater -honours can the purple give?
The poor patrician is rcducM to keep, .

In melancholy walks, a gi|tzier*8 sheep : i

Not Pallns nor Xicinius bad my treasure ; I

Then let the aaored tribunes wait my leisure.
Once a jX)«r rogue, 'tis true, I trod the street.
And trudg'd to Rome upon iny naked feec :
Gold is the greatest godj though yet we see
No temples rait'd to money's m^esty,
No aHars fnming to her power divine, ^
. Such as to valonr, peace, and virtue shine.
And fisith, and ooocord : where the stork on high
Sefims to salute her infant progeny :
Brssaging pious love with her auspicious cry.
Botffpqe our kpights and senators account
To what tbeir sordid begging vaiJs amount,
Judge what a wretched share the poor attends.
Whose, whole subsistence on those alms depends !
Their houseltold'fire, their raiment, and their food,
Prevented by those harpies ; when a wood
Of littevs thick besiege the donor*s gate.
And begsing lords and teeming ladies wait
The promisM dole: nay, some have leam'd the

trick
To4Mg for absent persons ; feign them sick.
Close mew'd in their sedans, for fear of air :
And for their wives produce an empty chair.
This is my spouse ; dispatch her with her shasn.
Tis Galla : let her ladyship but peep :
No,' sir, 'tis pity to disturb her sleep.

Snch 6oe employments oar whole days divide :
The salutations of the moming»tide
Call op the Sun ; those ended^, to the ball
We wait the patron, hear the lawyerb bawl ;
Then to the statues ; where, amidst the mce
Of conquering Jtorae, some Arab shows his fiicc,
Insorib'd with titles, and profanes the place ;
Fit to be ptst against, and somewhat more.
The great man, home-conductud, shuts his door ;
OU cUents, weary'd out with fruitleao rare,
jQismiss their hopes of eating, and despair.
Though moch against the gram, forr'ci to retire.
Boy roots for snpper, and provide a fire.

^Meantime his lordship lolls within at ease,
Piimperinf his paunch with foreign rarities ;
Both sea and land are ransack'd for tbe feast ^
4f<kit own g«i t^ f4i AtM JHMfc«



Snch plate, such tables, disbies tVn^flt so ^eR,
That whole estates are swallow*d at a meaL
f^v'n parasites are banish'd from his board
(At once a sordid and luxurious lord) :
I^odigious throat, for which whole boars ane drest
(A creature ibnn'd to furnish out a^ast).
^ut present pumsbment pimues his maw,
When supfolted and sweli'd, the peacock raw
tHe bears into the bsab ; whence want of bmall^
Repletions, apaplex, intestate d-tfth.
Mis fote makes table-talk, dtvidgM with scom,*
Aud he, a jest, into his grave is borne.

No age can go beyond Ks ^ -fiilbiv times
Can add no farther to the present crimes.
Our sons but the same things can wish and do ;
Vice is at ^taod, .and at the highest flow«
Then, Sathre, spread ^y sails ; take all ibe m^^

caa blow.
Some may, perhaps, demand what Muse csti yiekl
Suffiorent strength for such a spacious field }
From whence can be derivM so large a vein.
Bold truth to speak, and spoken to maintain } .
When god-like freedom is so feu- bereft
The n<^lc mind, that scarce the name is left?
Ere scandalum magnatum was begot.
No matter if the great foigave or not s
But if that honest licence now you takQ,
If into rogues omnipotent you rake.
Death is joor doom, imp-"'' "~^ - •*ake.;
SmeaHd o'er with wax, s ;e, to light

The streets, and make a by night.

Shall they who drench in a draught

Of poisonous juice be th< broug|it»

Make lanes among the p ley go.

And, moimted hjgh on d , throw

Disdahiful glances on Uu ?

.Be silent, and beware, if such you seej
Tb de&mation but to say. That's he!
Agamst bold Tumus the great Tiojan ann.
Amidst their strokes the poet gets no harm 2
Achilles may in epic verse be slain.
And pone of all his myrmidons complain:
Hylas may drop his pitcher, none will crjT^
Not if he drown himself for company :
But when LucHios brandishes his pen,
And flashes in the face of.guilty men,
A cold sweat stands in drops on every part ;
And. rage succeeds to tears, revenge to smart i
Muse, be advis'd ; 'tis past coasidering-time^
When enter'd once the daugerous lists of rhyma:
Since none the living villains dare implead.
Arraign them in tfaepersons of the dead.



Tat TBtan satiii ot
JUVENAL,



nt AaooMiirr.

Tub story of this satire speaks itself. Umbritiuv
the supposed friend of Juvenal, and himself A
poet, is leaving Rome, and retiring to Cuma.
Our author accompanies him out of town. Be« .
fore, they take leave of each other, Umbritiut
telb bis friend the reasons which oblige him to
lead a private life, in an obscure place. Ha
coBiplakis that an honest man cannoi get hit



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DRYDEN*S TRANSLATIONS.



hmmA ct ItODie : that none but flattereri make
thftir fiiftuna* there: that Grecians and other
fbreigDen raiie thcmatlvet by tboae m>ix1kS arts
which he describf'ft, and against «bicb he bit-
terly inveighs. He reckons up the several in-
ConTeniencies which arise from a city-life; and
the many dangers which attend it. Upbraids
the noblt men «ith covetousness, §at not rewaid-
ing good poets; and arraigns the government
for sUrving theou The great art of thissadre
is particularly shown, in common-places ; anri
tt drawing in as many vices, as could naturally
&11 into the compass of it.



GtiBv^D tbongh I am an ancient friend to loae,
I likv the military seat he chose :
In q liet Cum» fixing his repose :
Where far from noisy Rome secure he lives.
And one more citizen to Sibyl gives :
The road to Bi'jje, and that soft recets
Which all the gods with all their bounty Ucsfc
Though I in Prochyta with greater ease
Could live, than in a strt^et of palaces.
What scenes so desfrt, or so full of fright.
As towering houses tumbling in the night,
And Rome on fire beheld by Its own blazing light ?
But worse than all the clattering tiles, and worse
/Than thousand padders, is the poet*s corse.
Kogups that in dog-days cannot rhyme forbear :
But without mercy read, and make you hear.
Now while my friend, just ready to depart.
Was pnching all his goods in one poor cart ;
He sioppM a little at the Conluit-gate,
'Uliere Numa moierd once the Boman state,
In mighty councils with his nymph retirM,
Though now the sacred shades and founts are hir'd
By banish'd Jews, who their whole wealth can lay
In a small basket, on a wbisp of bay ;
Yet such our avarice is, that every tree
V^y% for his head ; nor sleep itself b free :
Nor place, nor p< rsons, now ace sacred held.
From their own grove the Mus^ are expelFd.
Into this lonely vale our steps we bend,
I and my snllen discontented friend :
The marble cave, and aqueducts, we view 5
But bow adulterate now, and difierentfirom the

true;
How much more beauteous had the fountain been
F.nibellish'd with her first created green,
Where crystal streams through living turf had run.
Contented with an urn of native stone !

Then thus Umbritius (with an angry frown.
And looking back on this degenerate town,)
•* Since noble aru in Rome have no support.
And ragged virtne not a friend at court.
No profit rises from th' unrsateful stage,
My jMverty increasing with my age,
'Tis time to give my just disdain a vent.
And, cursing, leave so base a government.
Where Daedalus his borrow'd wings laid by,
To that obscure retreat 1 choose to fly :
While yet few funows on my face arc seen.
White I walk \ipright, and old age is green.
And Lachesis has somewhat left to spin,
ifow, now, 'tis time to quit this cursed place.
And hide from villains my loo honest face:
flere let Arturiiis live, and sneh as he :
inch ouumcn will with such « town agree.



KnaTes, who in full assemblies have the 1aia(% '
^ turning truth to lies, and white to Mack ;
Can hire large houses, and oppress the poor
Ty farm*d excise ; can cleanse the common riiore|
And rent the fishery ; can bear the dead ;
And teach their eyes dissembled tears to shed.
All this for gain ; for gain they sell their very headk
These fellows (see what fortune's power can do)
Were once the minstrels of a country show:
Polkiw*d the prizes through each paltry towB|
By trump* t-cheeks and bloated fiuces known*
But now, grown Irich, on drunken holidays.
At their own costs exhibit public plays:
Where, influenc'd by the rabble's bloody will.
With thumbs b nt back, they popularly kill*
From thence return'd, their sordid ararice iak«
In rxorements again, and hires the jakes.
Why hire they not the town, not every thing.
Since such as they have Fortune in a string ?
Who, for her pleasure, can her fools advance ;
And toss thrm topntost on the wheel of ehancsb
What*« Rome to me, what business have I ther^
I who can neither lie, nor falsely surear?
Nor praise my patron's undeserving rhymes,
Nor yet comply with him, nor with his times a
UnskillM In schemes by planets to foresl>ow.
Like canting raiHrals, bow the wars will go :
I neither will, nor can prognosticate
To the young gaping heir, his fatber^s fate:
Nor in the entrails of a toad have pry*d,
Nor carry'd bawdy proenU to a bride :
For want of these town-virtues thiui, alone,
I go conducted on my way by none;
Tike a dead member from the body rent ;
Maimed, and nnuseful to the government.