II Augustus Indulges in Strong Language, but Decides to Learn the Game
Maecenas drives, and the Emperor sniffs.
I whaled the ball two hundred yards or more—
A screamer—when up wheeled the Emperor,
Exclaiming, as he watched the sphere sail off,
“Ye gods! Is that the total sum of golf!
Weaklings and mollycoddles, what a shame
To waste your time on such a baby game!
He bawls Maecenas out.
“And you, Maecenas, ‘Son of Ancient Kings’
(As Flaccus boy satirically sings
In his last book, ‘A Line-o’-Verse or Two’),
Is that the best, old scout, that you can do?
A stroke most ladylike! Why, on my soul,
I’d back Xantippe for a ball a hole!
Say, if I couldn’t slam that piffling pill
Over the crest of yonder fir-clad hill
I’d go jump in the Tiber. Here, I say,
Give me that mallet! Caddy, stand away!”
Augustus short-circuits himself.
Preluding thus, the Top Card took his stance,
Giving the “pill” a quick, contemptuous glance,
Then swung the driver with terrific force,
And—missed the ball a foot or two, of course.
A caddy snickered, then discreetly blew,
And Caesar after him the driver threw,
With certain objurgations, warm and tinglish,
That look less rude in Latin than in English.
Maecenas speaks in part as follows.
I laughed and said, “You see, it takes some skill:
You didn’t keep your eye upon the pill.
The striking surface, you’ll observe, is small;
It’s not, Octavius, a soccer ball.”
The Emperor gets the bug.
“Aw, cut that out, for love of Mike!” said he.
“Laugh if you will—I grant it’s one on me.
Son of a bat!”—he called the nearest caddy—
“We’ll learn this game alone. Come on, my laddie;
And if you lose this new ball in the rough
What I will do to you will be enough!”
Maecenas and his friends play the Nineteenth Hole.
So off they went, while we the club bar found,
And ordered dry martinis all around.