Two words of nonsense are two words too much;
Whole volumes of good sense will never tire.
What multitudes of lines hath Homer wrote!
Who ever thought he wrote one line too much?
Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test,
And he's the wisest man who bears them best.
[Contemporary of Menander and Philemon.]
FROM off the farm comes once in every year
A cheery ass, to me who love his cheer;
Like hamper burst at once in all its twigs,
Bearing libations, oil, meal, honey, figs.
Time, O my guest, is a wright who works a curse:
He joys in transformations for the worse.
There is no life but evil happenings seize, -
Griefs, cares, and robberies, torments and disease;
Death in physician's guise cuts short their number,
Filling the victim's closing scene with slumber.
O friend to the wise, to the children of song
Take me with thee, thou wisest and sweetest, along;
To the humble, the lowly, proud thoughts dost thou bring,
For the wretch who has thee is as blithe as a king;
From the brows of the sage, in thy humorous play,
Thou dost smooth every furrow and wrinkle away;
To the weak thou giv'st strength, to the mendicant gold,
And a slave warmed by thee as a lion is bold.
Suspicious Circumstances.
Wee have in Corinth this good Law in use:
If wee see any person keepe great cheere,
Wee make inquirie, whether he doe worke,
Or if he have Revenues coming in!
If either, then we say no more of him.
But if the Charge exceed his Gaine or Rents,
He is forbidden to run on his course;
If he continue it, he pays a fine;
If he want where withal, he is at last
Taken by sergeants and in prison cast.
VOL. IV. -21
For to spend much, and never to get aught,
Is cause of much disorder in the world.
One in the nighttime filcheth from the flocks;
Another breaks a house or else a shop;
A third man gets a share his mouth to stop.
To beare a part in this good fellowship,
One feignes a suit his neighbor to molest,
Another must false witness beare with him;
But such a crue we utterly detest,
And banish from our citie like the pest.
[Flourished about в.c. 320–300.]
WHEN you have erred, be glad that you are blamed;
Thus only is a balanced mind preserved.
It is not hard for those in weakly plight
To tell the lusty ones, "Don't misbehave!"
And 'tis no task to blame the fighting fist,
But to fight personally is not so easy:
Talking is one thing, acting is another.
It grieves me much to see the world so changed,
And men of worth, ingenious and well born,
Reduced to poverty, while cunning knaves,
The very scum of the people, eat their fish,
Bought for two oboli, on plates of silver,
Weighing at least a mina; a few capers,
Not worth three pieces of brass money, served
In lordly silver dish, that weighs at least
As much as fifteen drachmas. In times past
A little cup presented to the gods
Was thought a splendid offering: but such gifts
Are now but seldom seen; and reason good,
For 'tis no sooner on the altar placed
Than rogues are watching to purloin it thence.
APOLLODORUS (CARYSTIUS).
[Flourished about в.c 300-260.]
MAKE fast your door with bars of iron quite:
No architect can build a door so tight
But cat and paramour will get through in spite.
Each one by his deeds should be
Illustrious, with humility.
A peaceful life is sweet; it would be blest
And honored, if as peaceful were the rest:
But living wild with monkeys one must be
A monkey. Oh, the life of misery!
When I was young, I pitied those untimely reft in their bloom;
But now when I see the aged borne along to the tomb,
I weep indeed - but for my fate, not for theirs, is the gloom.
I do not scorn, Philinus, old men's ways,
Which may be yours when age has come to you,
But yet our fathers are at disadvantage
In this Unless your sire does something for you,
You rate him, "Haven't you been young yourself?"
But father cannot say in turn to son
When erring-"Haven't you been old yourself?"
There is a certain hospitable air
In a friend's home that tells me I am welcome;
The porter opens to me with a smile,
The yard dog wags his tail, the servant runs,
Beats up the cushion, spreads the couch, and says-
"Sit down, good sir!" ere I can say I'm weary.
EUPHRON.
[Dates unknown.]
TELL me, all-judging Jove, if this be fair,-
To make so short a life so full of care?
Who by his own profession is distrest,
How should he manage well the public chest?
Wretch find new gods to witness to new lies:
Thy perjuries have made the old too wise!
PHOENICIDES.
[Flourished about B.C. 272.]
A Courtesan and Her Keepers.
So HELP me Venus! as I'm fairly sick-
Sick to the soul, my Pythias, of this trade-
No more on't! I'll be no man's mistress, I;
Don't talk to me of Destiny - I've done with't;
I'll hear no prophecies, for mark me well:-
No sooner did I buckle to this business,
Than straight behold a man of war assailed me:
He told me of his battles o'er and o'er,
Showed me good stock of scars, but none of cash-
No, not a doit; but still he vapored much
Of what a certain prince would do, and talked
Of this and that commission-in the clouds:
By which he gulled me of a twelvemonth's hope,
Lived at free cost, and fed me upon love.
At length I sent my man of valor packing,
And a grave son of Physic filled his place:
My house now seemed a hospital of lazars,
And the vile beggar mangled without mercy,
A very hangman bathed in human gore.
My soldier was a prince compared to this,
For his were merry fibs: this son of death
Turned everything he touched into a corpse.
When Fortune, who had yet good store of spite,
Now coupled me to a most learned philosopher;
Plenty of beard he had, a cloak withal,
Enough to spare of each, and more maxims,
More than I could digest, but money - none;
His sect abhorred it; 'twas a thing proscribed
By his philosophy, an evil root,
And when I asked him for a taste, 'twas poison;
Still I demanded it, and for the reason
That he so slightly prized it; all in vain-
I could not wring a drachma from his clutches,-
Defend me, Heaven, from all philosophers!
[Began to exhibit in 289.]
OUR talent gains us much acquaintanceship,
Our soul and manners nearly all our friends.
[Uncertain; probably contemporary of the above.]
The Learned Servant.
I'VE harbored a he-sphinx and not a cook;
For, by the gods, he talked to me in riddles,
And coined new words that pose me to interpret.
No sooner had he entered on his office,
Than, eyeing me from head to foot, he cries
"How many mortals hast thou bid to supper
Mortals! quoth I—what tell you me of mortals?
Let Jove decide on their mortality;
You're crazy, sure: none by that name are bidden. "No table usher, no one to officiate
As master of the courses?".
Moschion and Niceratus and Philinus,
These are my guests and friends, and amongst these You'll find no table-decker, as I take it.
"Gods! is it possible?" cried he: Most certain,
I patiently replied. He swelled and huffed,
As if, forsooth, I had done him heinous wrong,
And robbed him of his proper dignity;
"What offering mak'st thou
To Erysichthon?" he demanded: None.
"Shall not the wide-horned ox be felled?" cries he: I sacrifice no ox. "Nor yet a wether?"
Not I, by Jove: a simple sheep, perhaps.
"And what's a wether but a sheep?" cries he. I'm a plain man, my friend, and therefore speak Plain language: "What: I speak as Homer does; And sure a cook may use like privilege,
And more than a blind poet." Not with me:
I'll have no kitchen Homers in my house!
So pray discharge yourself. This said, we parted.
[Flourished about B.C. 217.]
BEING a man, you've erred: in life 'twould be
A miracle to succeed perpetually.
The Scholar.
Good, good, Sibynna!
Ours is no art for sluggards to acquire,
Nor should the hour of deepest midnight see
Us and our volumes parted; still our lamp
Upon its oil is feeding, and the page
Of ancient lore before us:
- What, what hath The Sicyonian deduced? what school points Have we from him of Chios? Sagest Actides And Zopyrinus, what are their traditions?Thus grapple we with mighty tomes of wisdom, Sifting and weighing and digesting all.
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