Satire III
Although troubled at the departure of my old friend, yet I can not but commend his intention of fixing his abode at Cumæ, now desolate, and giving the Sibyl one citizen at least. It is the high road to Baiæ, and has a pleasant shore; a delightful retreat. I prefer even Prochyta101 to the Suburra. For what have we ever looked on so wretched or so lonely, that you would not deem it worse to be in constant dread of fires, the perpetual falling-in of houses, and the thousand dangers of the cruel city,102 and poets spouting in the month of August.103 But while his whole household is being stowed in a single wagon, my friend Umbritius halted at the ancient triumphal arches104 and the moist Capena. Here, where Numa used to make assignations with his nocturnal mistress, the grove of the once-hallowed fountain and the temples are in our days let out to Jews, whose whole furniture is a basket and bundle of hay.105 For every single tree is bid to pay a rent to the people, and the Camenæ having been ejected, the wood is one mass of beggars. We descended into the valley of Egeria and the grottoes, so altered from what nature made them. How much more should we feel the influence of the presiding genius of the spring,106 if turf inclosed the waters with its margin of green, and no marble profaned the native tufo. Here then Umbritius began:107
“Since at Rome there is no place for honest pursuits, no profit to be got by honest toil—my fortune is less to-day than it was yesterday, and to-morrow must again make that little less—we purpose emigrating to the spot where Dædalus put off his wearied wings, while my gray hairs are still but few, my old age green and erect; while something yet remains for Lachesis to spin, and I can bear myself on my own legs, without a staff to support my right hand. Let us leave our native land. There let Arturius and Catulus live. Let those continue in it who turn black to white; for whom it is an easy matter to get contracts for building temples, clearing rivers, constructing harbors,108 cleansing the sewers, the furnishing a funeral,109 and under the mistress-spear set up the slave to sale.”110
These fellows, who in former days were horn-blowers, and constant attendants on the municipal amphitheatres, and whose puffed cheeks were well known through all the towns, now themselves exhibit gladiatorial shows, and when the thumbs of the rabble are turned up, let any man be killed to court the mob. Returned from thence, they farm the public jakes.
And why not every thing? Since these are the men whom Fortune, whenever she is in a sportive mood, raises from the dust to the highest pinnacle of greatness.111
What shall I do at Rome? I can not lie; if a book is bad, I can not praise it and beg a copy. I know not the motions of the stars. I neither will nor can promise a man to secure his father’s death. I never inspected the entrails of a toad.112
Let others understand how to bear to a bride the messages and presents of the adulterer; no one shall be a thief by my co-operation; and therefore I go forth, a companion to no man,113 as though I were crippled, and a trunk useless from its right hand being disabled.114
Who, now-a-days, is beloved except the confidant of crime, and he whose raging mind115 is boiling with things concealed, and that must never be divulged? He that has made you the partaker of an honest secret, thinks that he owes you nothing, and nothing will he ever pay. He will be Verres’ dear friend, who can accuse Verres at any time he pleases. Yet set not thou so high a price on all the sands of shady Tagus,116 and the gold rolled down to the sea, as to lose your sleep, and to your sorrow take bribes that ought to be spurned,117 and be always dreaded by your powerful friend.
What class of men is now most welcome to our rich men, and whom I would especially shun, I will soon tell you; nor shall shame prevent me.118 It is that the city is become Greek, Quirites, that I can not tolerate; and yet how small the proportion even of the dregs of Greece! Syrian Orontes has long since flowed into the Tiber, and brought with it its language, morals, and the crooked harps with the flute-player, and its national tambourines, and girls made to stand for hire at the Circus. Go thither, ye who fancy a barbarian harlot with embroidered turban. That rustic of thine, Quirinus, takes his Greek supper-cloak, and wears Greek prizes on his neck besmeared with Ceroma.119 One forsaking steep Sicyon, another Amydon, a third from Andros, another from Samos, another again from Tralles, or Alabanda,120 swarm to Esquiliæ, and the hill called from its osiers, destined to be the very vitals, and future lords of great houses.121 These have a quick wit, desperate impudence, a ready speech, more rapidly fluent even than Isæus.122 Tell me what you fancy he is? He has brought with him whatever character you wish—grammarian, rhetorician, geometer, painter, trainer,123 soothsayer, rope-dancer, physician, wizard—he knows every thing. Bid the hungry Greekling go to heaven! He’ll go.124 In short, it was neither Moor, nor Sarmatian, nor Thracian, that took wings, but one born in the heart of Athens.125 Shall I not shun these men’s purple robes? Shall this fellow take precedence of me in signing his name, and recline pillowed on a more honorable couch than I, though imported to Rome by the same wind that brought the plums and figs?126 Does it then go so utterly for nothing, that my infancy inhaled the air of Aventine, nourished on the Sabine berry? Why add that this nation, most deeply versed in flattery, praises the conversation of an ignorant, the face of a hideously ugly friend, and compares some weak fellow’s crane-like neck to the brawny shoulders of Hercules, holding Antæus far from his mother Earth: and is in raptures at the squeaking voice,127 not a whit superior in sound to that of the cock as he bites the hen. We may, it is true, praise the same things, if we choose. But they are believed. Can he be reckoned a better actor,128 when he takes the part of Thais, or acts the wife in the play, or Doris129 without her robe. It is surely a woman in reality that seems to speak, and not a man personifying one. You would swear it was a woman, perfect in all respects. In their country, neither Antiochus, nor Stratocles, or Demetrius and the effeminate Hæmus, would call forth admiration. For there every man’s an actor. Do you smile? He is convulsed with a laugh far more hearty. If he spies a tear in his friend’s eye, he bursts into a flood of weeping; though in reality he feels no grief. If at the winter solstice you ask for a little fire, he calls for his thick coat. If you say, I am hot! he breaks into a sweat. Therefore we are not fairly matched; he has the best of it, who can at any time, either by night or day, assume a fictitious face; kiss his hands in ecstasy, quite ready, to praise his patron’s grossest acts; if the golden cup has emitted a sound, when its bottom is inverted.
Besides, there is nothing that is held sacred by these fellows, or that is safe from their lust. Neither the mistress of the house, nor your virgin daughter, nor her suitor, unbearded as yet, nor your son, heretofore chaste. If none of these are to be found, he assails his friend’s grandmother. They aim at learning the secrets of the house, and from that knowledge be feared.
And since we have begun to make mention of the Greeks, pass on to their schools of philosophy, and hear the foul crime of the more dignified cloak.130 It was a Stoic that killed Bareas—the informer, his personal friend—the old man, his own pupil—bred on that shore131 on which the pinion of the Gorgonean horse lighted. There is no room for any Roman here, where some Protogenes, or Diphilus, or Erimanthus reigns supreme; who, with the common vice of his race, never shares a friend, but engrosses him entirely to himself. For when he has infused into his patron’s too ready ear one little drop of the venom of his nature and his country, I am ejected from the door; all my long-protracted service goes for naught. Nowhere is the loss of a client of less account. Besides (not to flatter ourselves) what service can the poor man render, what merit can he plead, even though he be zealous enough to hasten in his toga132 before break of day, when the very prætor himself urges on his lictor, and bids him hurry on with headlong speed, since the childless matrons have been long awake, lest his colleague133 be beforehand with him in paying his respects to Albina and Modia. Here, by the side of a slave, if only rich, walks the son of the free-born;134 for the other gives to Calvina, or Catiena (that he may enjoy her once or twice), as much as the tribunes in the legion receive;135 whereas you, when the face of a well-dressed harlot takes your fancy, hesitate to hand Chione from her exalted seat.
Produce me at Rome a witness of as blameless integrity as the host of the Idæan deity;136 let Numa stand forth, or he that rescued Minerva when in jeopardy from her temple all in flames: the question first put would be as to his income, that about his moral character would come last of all. “How many slaves does he keep? How many acres of public land does he occupy?137 With how many and what expensive dishes is his table spread?” In exact proportion to the sum of money a man keeps in his chest, is the credit given to his oath. Though you were to swear by all the altars of the Samothracian and our own gods, the poor man is believed to despise the thunderbolts and the gods, even with the sanction of the gods themselves. Why add that this same poor man furnishes material and grounds for ridicule to all, if his cloak is dirty and torn, if his toga is a little soiled, and one shoe gapes with its upper leather burst; or if more than one patch displays the coarse fresh darning thread, where a rent has been sewn up. Poverty, bitter though it be, has no sharper pang than this, that it makes men ridiculous. “Let him retire, if he has any shame left, and quit the cushions of the knights, that has not the income required by the law, and let these seats be taken by”—the sons of pimps, in whatever brothel born!138 Here let the son of the sleek crier applaud among the spruce youths of the gladiator, and the scions of the fencing-school. Such is the will of the vain Otho, who made the distinction between us.
Who was ever allowed at Rome to become a son-in-law if his estate was inferior, and not a match for the portion of the young lady?139 What poor man’s name appears in any will? When is he summoned to a consultation even by an ædile? All Quirites that are poor, ought long ago to have emigrated in a body.140 Difficult indeed is it for those to emerge from obscurity whose noble qualities are cramped by narrow means at home; but at Rome, for men like these, the attempt is still more hopeless; it is only at an exorbitant price they can get a wretched lodging, keep for their servants, and a frugal meal.141 A man is ashamed here to dine off pottery ware,142 which, were he suddenly transported to the Marsi and a Sabine board, contented there with a coarse bowl of blue earthenware, he would no longer deem discreditable. There is a large portion of Italy (if we allow the fact), where no one puts on the toga, except the dead.143 Even when the very majesty of festival days is celebrated in a theatre reared of turf,144 and the well-known farce at length returns to the stage,145 when the rustic infant on its mother’s lap is terrified at the wide mouth of the ghastly mask, there you will see all costumes equal and alike, both orchestra and common people. White tunics are quite sufficient as the robe of distinction for the highest personages there, even the very ædiles. Here, in Rome, the splendor of dress is carried beyond men’s means; here, something more than is enough, is taken occasionally from another’s chest. In this fault all participate. Here we all live with a poverty that apes our betters. Why should I detain you? Every thing at Rome is coupled with high price. What have you to give, that you may occasionally pay your respects to Cossus? that Veiento may give you a passing glance, though without deigning to open his mouth? One shaves the beard, another deposits the hair of a favorite; the house is full of venal cakes.146 Now learn this fact, and keep it to work within your breast. We clients are forced to pay tribute and increase the private income of these pampered slaves.
Who dreads, or ever did dread, the falling of a house at cool Præneste, or at Volsinii seated among the well-wooded hills, or simple Gabii,147 or the heights of sloping Tibur. We, in Rome, inhabit a city propped in great measure on a slender shore.148 For so the steward props up the falling walls,149 and when he has plastered over the old and gaping crack, bids us sleep without sense of danger while ruin hangs over our heads!150 I must live in a place, where there are no fires, no nightly alarms. Already is Ucalegon shouting for water, already is he removing his chattels: the third story in the house you live in is already in a blaze. You are unconscious! For if the alarm begin from the bottom of the stairs, he will be the last to be burned whom a single tile protects from the rain, where the tame pigeons lay their eggs. Codrus had a bed too small for his Procula, six little jugs the ornament of his sideboard, and a little can besides beneath it, and a Chiron reclining under the same marble; and a chest now grown old in the service contained his Greek books, and opic151 mice-gnawed poems of divine inspiration. Codrus possessed nothing at all; who denies the fact? and yet all that little nothing that he had, he lost. But the climax that crowns his misery is the fact, that though he is stark naked and begging for a few scraps, no one will lend a hand to help him to bed and board. But, if the great mansion of Asturius has fallen, the matrons appear in weeds,152 the senators in mourning robes, the prætor adjourns the courts. Then it is we groan for the accidents of the city; then we loathe the very name of fire. The fire is still raging, and already there runs up to him one who offers to present him with marble, and contribute toward the rebuilding. Another will present him with naked statues of Parian marble,153 another with a chef-d’œuvre of Euphranor or Polycletus.154 Some lady will contribute some ancient ornaments of gods taken in our Asiatic victories; another, books and cases155 and a bust of Minerva; another, a whole bushel of silver. Persicus, the most splendid of childless men, replaces all he has lost by things more numerous and more valuable, and might with reason be suspected of having himself set his own house on fire.156
If you can tear yourself away from the games in the circus,157 you can buy a capital house at Sora, or Fabrateria, or Frusino, for the price at which you are now hiring your dark hole for one year. There you will have your little garden, a well so shallow as to require no rope and bucket, whence with easy draught you may water your sprouting plants. Live there, enamored of the pitchfork, and the dresser of your trim garden,158 from which you could supply a feast to a hundred Pythagoreans. It is something to be able in any spot, in any retreat whatever, to have made one’s self proprietor even of a single lizard.
Here full many a patient dies from want of sleep; but that exhaustion is produced by the undigested food that loads the fevered stomach. For what lodging-houses allow of sleep? None but the very wealthy can sleep at Rome.159 Hence is the source of the disease. The passing of wagons in the narrow curves of the streets, and the mutual revilings of the teamdrivers160 brought to a stand-still, would banish sleep even from Drusus and sea-calves.161
If duty calls him,162 the rich man will be borne through the yielding crowd, and pass rapidly over their heads on the shoulders of his tall Liburnian, and, as he goes, will read or write, or even sleep inside his litter,163 for his sedan with windows closed entices sleep. And still he will arrive before us. In front of us, as we hurry on, a tide of human beings stops the way; the mass that follows behind presses on our loins in dense concourse; one man pokes me with his elbow, another with a hard pole;164 one knocks a beam against my head, another a ten-gallon cask. My legs are coated thick with mud; then, anon, I am trampled upon by great heels all round me, and the hob-nail of the soldier’s caliga remains imprinted on my toe.
Do you not see with what a smoke the sportula is frequented? A hundred guests! and each followed by his portable kitchen.165 Even Corbulo166 himself could scarcely carry such a number of huge vessels, so many things piled upon his head, which, without bending his neck, the wretched little slave supports, and keeps fanning his fire as he runs along.167
Tunics that have been patched together are torn asunder again. Presently, as the tug approaches, the long fir-tree quivers, other wagons are conveying pine-trees; they totter from their height, and threaten ruin to the crowd. For if that wain, that is transporting blocks of Ligustican stone, is upset, and pours its mountain-load upon the masses below, what is there left of their bodies? Who can find their limbs or bones? Every single carcass of the mob is crushed to minute atoms as impalpable as their souls. While, all this while, the family at home, in happy ignorance of their master’s fate, are washing up the dishes, and blowing up the fire with their mouths, and making a clatter with the well-oiled strigils, and arranging the bathing towels with the full oilflask. Such are the various occupations of the bustling slaves. But the master himself is at this moment seated168 on the banks of Styx, and, being a novice, is horrified at the grim ferry-man, and dares not hope for the boat to cross the murky stream; nor has he, poor wretch, the obol in his mouth to hand to Charon.
Now revert to other perils of the night distinct from these. What a height it is from the lofty roofs, from which a potsherd tumbles on your brains. How often cracked and chipped earthenware falls from the windows! with what a weight they dint and damage the flint pavement where they strike it! You may well be accounted remiss and improvident against unforeseen accident, if you go out to supper without having made your will. It is clear that there are just so many chances of death, as there are open windows where the inmates are awake inside, as you pass by. Pray, therefore, and bear about with you this miserable wish, that they may be contented with throwing down only what the broad basins have held. One that is drunk, and quarrelsome in his cups, if he has chanced to give no one a beating, suffers the penalty by loss of sleep; he passes such a night as Achilles bewailing the loss, of his friend;169 lies now on his face, then again on his back. Under other circumstances, he can not sleep. In some persons, sleep is the result of quarrels; but though daring from his years, and flushed with unmixed wine, he cautiously avoids him whom a scarlet cloak, and a very long train of attendants, with plenty of flambeaux and a bronzed candelabrum, warns him to steer clear of. As for me, whose only attendant home170 is the moon, or the glimmering light of a rushlight, whose wick I husband and eke out—he utterly despises me! Mark the prelude of this wretched fray, if fray it can be called, where he does all the beating, and I am only beaten.171 He stands right in front of you, and bids you stand! Obey you must. For what can you do, when he that gives the command is mad with drink, and at the same time stronger than you. “Where do you come from?” he thunders out: “With whose vinegar and beans are you blown out? What cobbler has been feasting on chopped leek172 or boiled sheep’s head with you? Don’t you answer? Speak, or be kicked! Say where do you hang out? In what Jew’s begging-stand shall I look for you?” Whether you attempt to say a word or retire in silence, is all one; they beat you just the same, and then, in a passion, force you to give bail to answer for the assault. This is a poor man’s liberty! When thrashed he humbly begs, and pummeled with fisticuffs supplicates, to be allowed to quit the spot with a few teeth left in his head. Nor is this yet all that you have to fear, for there will not be wanting one to rob you, when all the houses are shut up, and all the fastenings of the shops chained, are fixed and silent.
Sometimes too a footpad does your business with his knife, whenever the Pontine marshes and the Gallinarian wood are kept safe by an armed guard. Consequently they all flock thence to Rome as to a great preserve.
What forge or anvil is not weighed down with chains? The greatest amount of iron used is employed in forging fetters; so that you may well fear that enough may not be left for plowshares, and that mattocks and hoes may run short. Well may you call our great-grandsires173 happy, and the ages blest in which they lived, which, under kings and tribunes long ago, saw Rome contented with a single jail.174
To these I could subjoin other reasons for leaving Rome, and more numerous than these; but my cattle summon me to be moving, and the sun is getting low. I must go. For long ago the muleteer gave me a hint by shaking his whip. Farewell then, and forget me not! and whenever Rome shall restore you to your native Aquinum, eager to refresh your strength, then you may tear me away too from Cumæ to Helvine Ceres,175 and your patron deity Diana. Then, equipped with my caligæ,176 I will visit your chilly regions, to help you in your satires—unless they scorn my poor assistance.
Footnotes
101 Prochyta. An island in the Bay of Naples, now called Procida.
102 Sævæ, “from the ceaseless alarms it causes.” “Sævus est qui terret.” Donat. in Ter., Adelp., v. s. iv.
103 Augusto. Cf. Plin., 1, Epist. xiii. “Magnum proventum poëtarum annus hic attulit; toto mense Aprili nullus ferè dies quo non recitaret aliquis.”
104 Either those of Romulus, or the aqueduct; and “moist Capena,” either from the constant dripping of the aqueduct (hence arcus stillans), or from the springs near it, hence called Fontinalis; now St. Sebastian’s gate. It opens on the Via Appia.
105 Cf. vi., 542.
106 “O how much more devoutly should we cling
To thoughts that hover round the sacred spring!” Badham.
Read præsentius: cf. Plin., Ep. viii., 8, the description of the Clitumnus, and Ov., Met., iii., 155, seq.
107 Umbritius (aruspicum in nostro ævo peritissimus, Plin., x., c. iii.) is said to have predicted Galba’s death, and probably therefore, with Juvenal, cordially hated Otho.
108 Portus may mean, “constructing” or “repairing” harbors; or “farming the harbor-dues,” portoria.
109 Scipio’s was performed by contract. Plin., H. N., xxxi., 3.
110 The spear was set up in the forum to show that an auction was going on there. Hence things so sold were said to be sold sub hastâ. Domina, implies “the right of disposal” of all things and persons there put up. This may mean, therefore, to buy a drove of slaves on speculation, and sell them again by auction; or, when they have squandered their all, put themselves up to sale. So Britann. Dryden, “For gain they sell their very head.” “Salable as slaves.” Hodgson. So Browne, who reads “præbere caput domino.”
111 “From abject meanness lifts to wealth and power.” Badham. Cf. vi., 608.
112 “Though a soothsayer, I am no astrologer.” “I never examined the entrails of a toad.”
113 “Therefore (because I will lend myself to no peculation) no great man will take me in his suite when he goes to his province.” Cf. Sat. viii., 127, “Si tibi sancta cohors comitum.” This is better than, “Therefore I leave Rome alone!” Markland proposes, extinctâ dextrâ.
114 “Like a dead member from the body rent,
Maim’d and unuseful to the government.” Dryden.
“No man’s confederate, here alone I stand,
Like the maim’d owner of a palsied hand.” Badham.
“Lopp’d from the trunk, a dead, unuseful hand.” Hodgson.
115 Isa., lvii., 20.
116 Opaci, Lubin. interprets as equivalent to turbulenti, “turbid with gold.” On this Grangæus remarks, “Apage Germani haud germanam interpretationem! opaci enim est umbris arborum obscuri.” Cf. Mart., i., Ep. 50, “Æstus serenos aureo franges Tago obscurus umbris arborum.”
117 “Grasp thou no boon with sadness on thy brow,
Spurn the base bribe that binds a guilty vow.” Badham.
118 “Shame for Rome that harbors such a crew.”
119 The Roman hind, once so renowned for rough and manly virtues, now wears the costume of effeminate Greeks: or all these Greek terms, used to show the poet’s supreme contempt, may refer to the games: the Trechedipna, not the thin supper-robe, but the same as the Endromis. The Ceroma, an ointment made of oil, wax, and clay, with which they bedaubed themselves.
120 Amydon in Pœonia, Tralles in Lydia, Alabanda in Caria.
121 “Work themselves inward, and their patrons out.” Dryden.
“Deep in their patron’s heart, and fix’d as fate,
The future lords of all his vast estate.” Hodgson.
122 “Torrents of words that might Isæus drown.” Badham.
123 Aliptes, one who anoints (ἀλείφει), and therefore trains, athletes.
124 So Johnson.
“All sciences the hungry Monsieur knows,
And bid him go to hell—to hell he goes!”
125 Some think there is an allusion here to a man who attempted to repeat Icarus’ experiment before Nero. Vid. Suet., Nero, 13.
126 Cottana, “ficorum genus.” Plin., xiii., 5.
127 “As if squeezed in the passage by the narrowness of the throat.”
128 His powers of flattery show his ability of assuming a fictitious character as much as his skill in acting.
129 Or the “Dorian maid.” They were scantily dressed. Hence the φαινομηρίδες of Ibycus.
130 Major abolla, seems to be a proverbial expression; it may either be the “Stoic’s cloak,” which was more ample than the scanty robe of the Cynic; or “the philosopher’s cloak,” which has therefore more dignity and weight with it than the soldier’s or civilian’s. The allusion is to P. Egnatius Celer, the Stoic, who was bribed to give the false testimony on which Bareas Soranus was convicted. V. Tac., Ann., xvi., 21, seq., and 32.
131 Ripa. Commentators are divided between Tarsus, Thebes, and Corinth.
132 Togatus. Gifford quotes Martial, x., Ep. 10.
“Quid faciet pauper cui non licet esse clienti?
Dimisit nostras purpura vestra togas.”
133 Collega; alluding to the two prætors, “Urbanus” and “Peregrinus.”
134 Claudit latus. This is the order Britannicus takes. “Claudere latus” means not only to accompany, as a mark of respect, but to give the inner place; to become his “comes exterior.” Horace, ii., Sat. v., 18. So Gifford, “And if they walk beside him yield the wall.”
135 “For one cold kiss a tribune’s yearly pay.” Hodgson.
i. e., forty-eight pieces of gold. Cf. Suet., Vesp., xxiii.
136 P. Scipio Nasica (vid. Liv., xxix., 10) and L. Cæcilius Metellus. Cf. Ov., Fasti, vi., 437.
137 Possidet. Vid. Niebuhr.
138 Cf. Mart., v., Ep. 8 and 25, who speaks of one Lectius as an officious keeper of the seats.
139 Sat. x., 323.
140 “Long, long ago, in one despairing band,
The poor, self-exiled, should have left the land.” Hodgson.
141 “A menial board and parsimonious fare.” Hodgson.
142 “Negavit.” Some commentators imagine Curius Dentatus to be here alluded to. It seems better to take it as a general remark. Read “culullo,” not “cucullo,” with Browne.
143 Cf. Mart., ix., 588.
144 Herboso, the first permanent theatre even in Rome itself, was built by Pompey. Cf. In gradibus sedit populus de cæspite factis. Ov., Art. Am., i., 107. Cf. Virg., Æn., v., 286.
145 “In the state show repeated now for years.” Hodgson.
146 Libis. So many of these “complimentary cakes” are sent in honor of this event, that they are actually “sold” to get rid of them.
“Good client, quickly to the mansion send
Cakes bought by thee for rascal slaves to vend.” Badham.
147 Gabii, renowned for the ease with which Sex. Tarquin duped the inhabitants.
148 Pronum, i. e., supinum. Hor., iii., Od. iv., 23, on a steep acclivity.
149 “And ’tis the village mason’s daily calling,
To keep the world’s metropolis from falling.” Dryden.
150 “Then bid the tenant sleep secure from dread,
While the loose pile hangs trembling o’er his head.” Gifford.
151 Opici. Cf. vi., 455. Opicæ castigat amicæ verba; i. e., barbarous, rude, unlearned, “the Goths of mice;” from the Opici or Osci, an Ausonian tribe on the Liris, from whom many barbarous innovations were introduced into Roman manners and language. “Divina” may either refer to Homer’s poems, or to Codrus’ own, which in his own estimation were “divine.” Cf. Sat. i., 2, “rauci Theseide Codri.”
152 Horrida. In all public misfortunes, the Roman matrons took their part in the common mourning, by appearing without ornaments, in weeds, and with disheveled hair. Cf. viii., 267. Liv., ii., 7. Luc., Phars., ii., 28, seq.
153 Candida. Cf. Plin., xxxiv., 5. The Parian marble was the whitest, hence Virg., Æn., iii., 126, “Niveamque Paron.”
154 Polycletus. Cf. viii., 103. His master-piece was the Persian body-guard (cf. Ælian., V. H., xiv., 8), called the “Canon.” Vid. Müller’s Archæol. of Art, § 120. Euphranor the painter belonged, like Polycletus, to the Sicyonic school.
155 Foruli or plutei, cases for holding MSS. Cf. ii., 7. Suet., Aug., xxxi.
156 Cf. Mart., iii., Ep. 52.
157 Circus. Cf. x., 81, duas tantum res anxius optat Panem et Circenses.
158 Cf. Milton.
“And add to these retired leisure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.”
159 i. e., “Only the very rich can afford to buy ‘Insulæ,’ in the quiet part of the city, where their rest will not be broken by the noise of their neighbors, or the street.”
160 Mandra; properly “a pen for pigs or cattle,” then “a team or drove of cattle, mules,” etc.; as Martial, v., Ep. xxii., 7, “Mulorum vincere mandras.” Here “the drovers” themselves are meant.
161 Drusum. Cf. Suet., Claud., v., “super veterem segnitiæ notam.” Seals are proverbially sluggish. Cf. Plin., ix., 13. Virg., Georg., iv., 432.
162 Officium; attendance on the levees of the great.
163 Cf. i., 64; v., 83; vi., 477, 351. Plin., Pan., 24.
164 i. e., of a litter. Cf. vii., 132.
165 Culina, “a double-celled chafing-dish, with a fire below, to keep the ‘dole’ warm.” The custom is still retained in Italy.
166 Domitius Corbulo, a man of uncommon strength, appointed by Nero to command in Armenia. Vid. Tac., Ann., xiii., 8.
167 “The pace creates the draught.”
168 Sedet; because, being unburied, he must wait a hundred years. Cf. Virg., Æn., vi., 313-330.
169 Hom., Il., xxiv., 12, “ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ὕπτιος ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνής.”
170 Deducere; “the technical word for the clients’ attendance on their patrons;” so “forum attingere; in forum deduci.”
171 “He only cudgels, and I only bear.” Dryden.
172 Sectile, or the inferior kind of leek; the better sort being called “capitatum.” Plin., xx., 6. Cf. Sat. xiv., 133, sectivi porri.
173 The order is “Pater, avus, proavus, abavus, atavas, tritavus.” He means, therefore, eight generations back at least.
174 Ancus Martius built the prison. Liv., i., 33. The dungeon was added by Servius Tullius, and called from him Tullianum. The next was built by Ap. Claudius the decemvir.
175 Ceres was worshiped under this epithet at Aquinum. Its origin is variously given.
176 Caligatus may mean, “with rustic boots,” so that you may not be reminded of Rome; or “with soldier’s boots,” as armed for our campaign against the vices of the city.