Say, dost thou sit contented at the board,
Which just a cake and cabbage can afford?
Come, try thy mouth-

-hah-there's an ulcer there,

Too tender to be touch'd by such coarse fare.
Thou hast an ague, when heart-chilling Fear
Bristles thine hair, and whispers danger near :
And Madness, horrid fiend, is nigh at hand,
When raging Anger hurls his flaming brand;
And thou dost rave in such a frantic strain,
As mad Orestes would pronounce insane?

է

THE

SATIRES OF PERSIUS.

SATIRE IV.

SATIRA IV.

V. I-16.

REM populi tractas? barbatum hæc crede magistrum
Dicere, sorbitio tollit quem dira cicuta.

Quo fretus ? dic hoc magni pupille Pericli.
Scilicet ingenium, et rerum prudentia velox
Ante pilos venit: dicenda, tacendaque calles.
Ergo ubi commota fervet plebecula bile,
Fert animus calidæ fecisse silentia turbæ

Majestate manus: quid deinde loquêre ? Quirites,
Hoc, puto, non justum est, illud male, rectius illud.
Scis etenim justum gemina suspendere lance
Ancipitis libræ rectum discernis, ubi inter
Curva subit, vel cum fallit pede regula varo :
Et potis es nigrum vitio præfigere theta.
Quin tu igitur summa nequicquam pelle decorus
Ante diem blando caudam jactare popello
Desinis, Anticyras melior sorbere meracas?

V. I-26.

IMAGINE that divine Athenian sage
(At once the shame and honour of his age)
Who by the malice of his foes belied,

A victim to their rage by hemlock died,

In scoffing language to have thus address'd

That froward youth whom Athens once caress'd. "Art thou a statesman? wouldst thou hold the helm And rule like Pericles the subject realm ?

Does sense mature, ere life has reach'd its noon? Does thy young judgment bring forth fruit so soon? Ere yet the down has gather'd on thy cheek, Art thou instructed how, and when, to speak? Canst thou the tumult's mingled roar restrain, Silence command, nor wave the hand in vain ; On public good the public mind enlight, And lift the torch of truth where all is night? No doubt, thou canst in thy experience trust, Say what is right, and point out what is just ; No doubt, thy way thou always canst discern, And men and manners thou hast not to learn: Thou holdest virtue at its proper price; Fixing thy stigma on the brow of vice. But therefore cease, at every public place, To show the beauties of thy form and face. From all these idle practices refrain, And take to hellebore to clear thy brain.