Latin Poems.

Quis deus, ô quis erat, qui te, mala foemina, finxit?Proh, crimen superum, noxa pudenda deum!Quae divum manus est adeo non dextera mundo?In nostras clades ingeniosa manus:Parcite; peccavi: nec enim pia numina possuntTam crudele semel vel voluisse nefas.Vestrum opus est pietas; opus est concordia vestrum;Vos equidem tales haud reor artifices.Heus, inferna cohors, foetus cognoscite vestros.Num pudet hanc vestrum vincere posse scelus?Plaudite Tartarei proceres Erebique potentes,Nae mirum est tantum vos potuisse malum;Jam vestras laudate manus. Si forte tacetis,Artificum laudes grande loquetur opus.Quam bene vos omnes speculo contemplor in isto?Pectus in angustum cogitur omne malum.Quin dormi, Pluto; rabidas compesce sorores;Jam non poscit opem nostra ruina tuam.Haec satis in nostros fabricata est machina muros,Mortales furias Tartara nostra dabunt.

TRANSLATION.

WOMAN A TREASURY OF EVILS.

What god? or who was it? I ask, contriv'dThee, O Woman, evil Woman? who conniv'dTogether—who—in this supremest crimeOf the divinities, before old TimeWas born? Alas, most dire calamityAs e'er has come upon humanity!Whence was the hand, ye Powers, so evil-skill'dIn sin and mischief, so perversely will'dTo curse this world of ours? But hold! I blunder;I must to the dark regions lying under,Ev'n Hell, descend. Not Thee, O God above,For Thou art pitiful, for Thou art Love:Not one of all the gracious Pow'rs supernal;But ye, O Furies, from the pit infernal,Ye, ye the work devis'd, matur'd, achiev'd,And brought to Man; to Man—frail Man! deceiv'd:Ho, hosts of evil! ho! on you I call:Behold your offspring diabolical.Does it a blush raise?—Spirits of evil, speak!—Such as expos'd crime brings to mortal cheek?Lo, these your works yourselves surpass, I wis;Clap hands, ye potentates of the Abyss.Rulers of Erebus, is it not a wonder,Worthy of Hell's most resonant swift thunder,That ye such thing contrivèd have as HeavenNever cast out, nor e'er to Hell was driven?Take ye your praise, your praise; this work o' your handsAbsolute in mischief 'bove compar'son stands.Or if ye silent be, your work will speakYour praise. Ha, ha! what mean ye that ye shriekThus as I meditate with pulse of fearUpon this monster, Woman? Ah, 'tis clear;I see your guile and skill. The gods aboveWould have all ills within one scant breast move!To bed, Pluto, king of the nether world;Sleep on in peace; be every banner furl'd;Ye fires, go out; Man's ruin is complete;No need of you—in Woman all woes meet:In her, ye devils, ye have so contriv'dThat Tempter, who—better than had ye div'dTo furthest Tartarus—Man's protecting wallShall breach. Earth's fury—Woman—passes all!G.

MISCELLANEOUS AND COMMEMORATIVE.

NEVER BEFORE PRINTED.

NOTE.

Once more the SancroftMS.furnishes the Poems of this division, all hitherto unprinted. In this section I have again been largely and finely aided in the translations by my already-named friend the Rev. Richard Wilton, as before. G.

Decoration Q

Eheu, ver breve et invidum!Eheu, floriduli dies!Ergo curritis improba,Et quae nunc face fulgurat,Dulcis forma tenacibusImmiscebitur infimae:Heu, noctis nebulis; amorFallax, umbraque somnii.Quin incumbitis; invidaSic dictat colus, et rotaCani temporis incitoCurrens orbe volubilis.O deprendite lubricosAnnos; et liquidum jubarVerni sideris, ac noviFloris fulgura, mollibusQuae debetis amoribus,Non impendite luridosIn manes avidum et Chaos.Quanquam sidereis genis,Quae semper nive sobriaSinceris spatiis vigent,Floris germine simplicis,Flagrant ingenuae rosae:Quanquam perpetua fideIllic mille Cupidines,Centum mille Cupidines,Pastos nectarea dape,Blandis sumptibus educas;Istis qui spatiis vagi,Plenis lusibus ebrii,Udo rore beatuli,Uno plus decies dieIstis ex oculis tuis,Istis ex oculis suasSopitas animant faces,Et languentia recreantSucco spicula melleo:Tum flammis agiles novisLasciva volitant face,Tum plenis tumidi minis,Tum vel sidera territant,Et coelum et fragilem Jovem:Quanquam fronte sub arduaMajestas gravis excubans,Dulces fortiter improbisLeges dictat amoribus:Quanquam tota, per omnia,Coelum machina praeferat,Tanquam pagina multiplexVivo scripta volumine,Terris indigitans polos.Et compendia siderum:Istis heu tamen heu genis,Istis purpureis genis,Oris sidere florido,Regno frontis amabili;Mors heu crastina forsitanCrudeles faciet notas,Naturaeque superbiamDamnabit tumuli specu.

TRANSLATION.

THE BEAUTIFUL NOT LASTING.

Alas, how brief and grudg'd our Spring!Ah, flow'ry days how vanishing!E'en so ye hasten on and onWith an unceasing motion.And thou, sweet Beauty, brightly flashing,But all too soon thy fairness dashing,To depths of lowest Night must go:Ah, losing there thy hasty glow;Dark'ning mists around thee clinging,And thy loveliness swift-winging:A love that brightens to deceive;A dream-shadow, fugitive.Ye therefore o'er whom Life's young DayShineth still with golden ray,Seize—Fate's harsh distaff makes appeal,And hoary Time's quick-whirling wheel,As round and round the circle spins,And to furthest distance wins—Seize ye the gliding seasons fleet,And dews of vernal Phosphor sweet,And new-blown flowers' brightness meet.O, what to tender loves ye owe,Waste not on Chaos dark below,Where pallid ghosts dim-gleaming go.Though, Beauty, on thy starry cheeks,Where snow's white pureness ever breaks,And where gazing, we see bornRoses fresh without all thorn,Buds intertwining undefil'd,Spotless as e'er a grace-born child:Though thou with everlasting faithFosterest with thy nectar'd breathMyriad Loves, and dost them feedWith honey'd feast of heavenly meadIn gentle draughts; and they roam roundIn thy realms, and aye are foundSurfeiting themselves with playIn one amorous holiday;Happy in the drenching dew,And seeking ever to renewTheir torch-flames at thy fair eyes,And whet blunt arrows' ecstasiesWith sweet juice that in honey lies:And so, with their flame relumèd,Deftly hover, airy-plumèd;Waving higher still and higherTheir torches that raise soft desire;Menacing the very stars,Yea the old heavens i' their wars:Although beneath thy high-arch'd browSits Majesty, nor doth allowTo wanton loves such libertyAs mocks the Ruler of the sky;But in their wild career gives pause,Imposing on them Love's sweet laws:Though thy whole frame in every partSets forth the sky as in a chart;Though thy fair face in every lookShows heaven in page of living book;To Earth reveals the starry skiesIn the bright glances of thine eyes:Yet, alas, on these fair cheeks,Where the rose all-blushing speaks,There shall come the snow's sad whiteness,And the red, heart-breaking brightness:On the 'human face divine,'That as a star doth radiant shine,There shall come the deep'ning shadow,As clouds across the dappl'd meadow.On the high state of the browTo-morrow Death may make his blow;And all of Nature's braveryGone, in the Grave's cavern lie.Alas, the fairest is the fleetest!Alas, how short-liv'd is the sweetest!Alas, the richest is the rarest!Alas, that Death doth spoil the fairest!G.

DUM IN ILLIUS TUTELAM TRANSEUNT VIRGINES.

Tu tuis adsis, Venus alme, sacris:Rideas blandum, Venus, et benignum,Quale cum Martem premis, aureoqueFrangis ocello.Rideas ô tum neque flamma Phoebum,Nec juvent Phoeben sua tela; gestatTe satis contra tuus ille tantumTela Cupido.Saepe in ipsius pharetra DianaeHic suas ridens posuit sagittas,Ausus et flammae Dominum magistrisUrere flammis.Virginum te orat chorus—esse longumVirgines nollent—modo servientumTot columbarum tibi passerumque augere catervam.Dedicant quicquid labra vel rosarumColla, vel servant tibi liliorum;Dedicant totum tibi ver genarum,Ver oculorum.Hinc tuo sumas licet arma nato,Seu novas his ex oculis sagittas;Seu faces flamma velit acrioriFlave comatas.Sume, et ô discant quid amica, quid nox,Quid bene et blande vigilata nox sit;Quid sibi dulcis furor, et protervusPoscat amator.Sume per quae tot tibi corda flagrant,Per quod arcanum tua cestus halat,Per tuus quicquid tibi dixit olim autFecit Adonis.

TRANSLATION.

A HYMN TO VENUS,

WHILE THE VIRGINS PASS UNDER HER PROTECTION.

Be thou, sweet Venus, present now,Whilst at thy sacred rites we vow;Smile, Venus, with the smile that charmsWhen Mars enfolds thee in his arms,O'ercome with glance as sunshine golden,Renownèd from the ages olden.Smile; then Phœbus' flame shall fail,Nor Phœbe her own darts avail.Thy Cupid only against theeWields successful weaponry.Oft and oft the laughing BoyIn the wildness of his joyHas slipt into Diana's quiverHis keen arrows, that a shiverPleasant-painful send through all,When he, trickster, doth enthral.Yea, he has dar'd the Lord of FireWith flames more burning, in his ire.The arm-link'd Virgins to thee pray,Seeking thou wouldst near them stay;Were it but to offer here,In the flock that hovers near,More doves and sparrows lightly-flying:To their prayer there's no denying.Lo, they dedicate in posiesAll their lips supply of roses;All their necks, of lilies, whiteAs the dewy stainless light;Yea, the whole Spring of each cheek,And that which from their eyes doth break.Hence, Venus, arms thou mayest takeFor thy wanton Boy to makeArrows from their fire-darting eyes,Or torches flame-tipp'd that surpriseWith Love's delicious agonies.Take them, and see thou lett'st them knowWhat means a 'mistress;' and then showWhat the Night all-wakeful isIn the rapture of its bliss;What the bold lover shall demandWhen all charms he doth command.Take them: by all the hearts that burn,And passionate unto thee turn!By all the mysteries that are breath'd,Or in thine own girdle sheath'd!By all to thee Adonis e'erOr said or did, when he would swear,Ne'er i' the world was one so fair!G.

Tempus adest, placidis quo sol novus auctior horisPurpureos mulcere dies, et sidere vernoFloridus, augusto solet ire per aethera vultu,Naturae communis amor; spes aurea mundi;Virgineum decus, et dulcis lascivia rerum,Ver tenerum, ver molle subit; jam pulchrior annusPube nova, roseaeque recens in flore juventaeFelici fragrat gremio, et laxatur odoraProle parens; per aquas, perque arva, per omnia lateIpse suas miratur opes, miratur honores.Jam Zephyro resoluta suo tumet ebria tellus,Et crebro bibit imbre Jovem, sub frondibus altisFlora sedens, audit, felix! quo murmure lapsisFons patrius minitetur aquis, quae vertice crispoRespiciunt tantum, et strepero procul agmine pergunt.Audit, et arboreis siquid gemebunda recurrensGarriat aura comis, audit, quibus ipsa susurrisAnnuit, et facili cervice remurmurat arbor.Quin audit querulas, audit quodcunque per umbrasFlebilibus Philomela modis miserabile narrat.Tum quoque praecipue blandis Cytherea per orbemSpargitur imperiis; molles tum major habenasIncutit increpitans, cestus magis ignea roresIngeminat, tumidosque sinus flagrantior ambit;Nympharum incedit late, Charitumque coronaAmplior, et plures curru jam nectit olores:Quin ipsos quoque tum campis emittit apricisVenusLaeta parens gremioque omnes effundit Amores.Mille ruunt equites blandi, peditumque protervaeMille ruunt acies: levium pars terga ferarumInsiliunt, gaudentque suis stimulare sagittis;Pars optans gemino multum properare volatuAërios conscendit equos; hic passere blandoSubsiliens leve ludit iter; micat huc, micat illucHospitio levis incerto, et vagus omnibus umbris:Verum alter gravidis insurgens major habenisMaternas molitur aves: illi improbus acremVersat apem similis, seseque agnoscit in illo.Et brevibus miscere vias ac frangere gyris:Pars leviter per prata vagi sua lilia dignisContendunt sociare rosis; tum floreus ordoConsilio fragrante venit; lascivit in omniGermine laeta manus; nitidis nova gloria pennisAdditur; illustri gremio sedet aurea messis;Gaudet odoratas coma blandior ire sub umbras.Excutiunt solitas, immitia tela, sagittas,Ridentesque aliis pharetrae spectantur in armis.Flore manus, et flore sinus, flore omnia lucent.Undique jam flos est. Vitreas hic pronus ad undasIngenium illudentis aquae, fluitantiaque ora,Et vaga miratur tremulae mendacia formae.Inde suos probat explorans, et judice nymphaInformat radios, ne non satis igne protervoOra tremant, agilesque docet nova fulgura vultus,Atque suo vibrare jubet petulantius astro.

TRANSLATION.

A DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.

The time is come, when, lord of milder hours,The Sun, ascending fresh with larger powers,Is wont to woo and soothe the purple Day,And, brilliant with its beaming vernal ray,To climb with face august the heavenly way;All Nature's love, Earth's hope and glory golden,To which for garlands virgins are beholden.With a glad plenty of all living thingsSweet tender Spring approaches on soft wings.The Year, more beauteous now with offspring new,And crown'd with Youth's fresh flowers of every hue,Delicious odours pours from happy breast,Of fragrant progeny the parent blest:O'er verdant fields, blue waters, everywhere,At his own wealth he wonders, large and fair.By her own Zephyr thirsty Earth unboundDrinks eagerly the showers which fall all round;While Flora, sitting where tall trees appear,Lists, O how happily! as, murmuring near,A father-fountain chides its gliding waters,Which with curl'd head—alas, unduteous daughters—Only look back, and then a garrulous bandPursue their laughing way o'er all the land;Lists how the sighing, oft-returning airSoft prattles to the leafy tresses fair;With what sweet whispers it accosts the tree,Which with bow'd head makes answer murmuringly;Lists, lists again, while through the mournful shadeSad Philomel's pathetic plaint is made.Now chiefly Venus spreads her empire sweet,And calls the world to worship at her feet;Now mightier her soft reins shakes to and fro,Chiding, and makes her chariot faster go;More fiery bids her cestus' powers abound,And her warm swelling bosom girds around;More glorious now, circl'd by Nymphs and Graces,She marches forth, and to her chariot-tracesShe yokes more swans. Nay, freer than before,Her Loves themselves, the sunny meadows o'er,From her maternal bosom see her pour;A thousand horsemen sweet career around,Ten thousand wanton footmen scour the ground;Part mount the backs of wild beasts as they run,And their own goad-like arrows ply in fun;Part seek wing'd flight to urge with double speed,And so ascend each one an airy steed;One, vaulting on a sparrow, flits away;Here see him lightly shine, there brightly play,In no place long; now resting here, now yonder,Wherever shadows woo them, lo, they wander.One, rising mightier than her heavy reins,His Mother's birds attempts with lighter chains.One, bee-like, brave o'erthrows an angry bee,Only another self in him to see;In tiny circles they awhile revolve,But soon their interlacing flight dissolve.Part, lightly flitting o'er the meadows fair,Strive their own lilies with meet rose to pair.Now flowery tribes in fragrant counsel stand,Amid the buds wantons the joyous band.New glory on their shining pinions rests,A golden harvest settles on their breasts;With sweeten'd locks to odorous shades they go,Their arrows, weapons harsh, away they throw,While other arms their smiling quivers show.Flowers in their hand, flowers in their breast, are seen,On every side appears a flowery sheen.One Love, reclin'd beside a glassy stream,Admires the nature of the illusive gleam,The liquid likeness of his wavering face,And tremulous deceit of imag'd grace.Thence, his own rays examining, he triesAnd fashions, as the Nymph may chance advise,That braver fires may tremble in his eyes;His mobile face new lightnings flashes far,With rays more wanton, bickering like a star.R. Wi.

The two following poems—somewhat out of character, so to say, with Crashaw—were probably prepared for a tractate, which it has been our good fortune to hap on in the Bodleian. It is a Latin burlesque Poem, filling a small 4to of 20 pages, with this title:EnPriscianusVerberansetVapulans.Jam publicato verberans aures styloQua penis iterum vapulet, metuit crisin.LondiniExcudebat Augustinus Mathewes impensisRoberti Mulbourne ad insigneCanis venatici in coemeterio Paulino.1632.The words 'Priscianus Verberans et Vapulans' remind us of the once-famous 'Comoedia' of Nicodemus Freschlin; but the later poem shows no reminiscence of the earlier. These details will doubtless interest and amuse in relation to Crashaw's pieces. Priscianus, otherwise Nisus, a schoolmaster, whips a boy who broke and dirtied his whipping-horse, and the boy's parents bring an action against him for assault. The place is evidently Aldborough in Suffolk—illumined by the genius of Crabbe—and the name of the boy's family Coleman. The poem thus begins and proceeds—the marginal notes being placed at the bottom of our pages:Pinguibus in populi, qui dicitur Austricus,[101]arvisPraeturam, fasces, lictores nuper adeptaVilla[102]antiqua, novo jam Burgi turget honore.He describes the school:Vicinae senior Carbonius[103]incola villae,'Lingua vernacula idem quodἀνθράκανδρος,sends his son as a scholar: the stipend 20s.a year:De stipe[103]consentit genitor: Carbunculus intrat.He describes the whipping-block, the judicious use of which saves boys from the gallows:Iste caballusthe TrojanNon in perniciem, non urbis ut ille ruinamSed curam imberbis populi, regimenque salubre:A triplici ligno[104]lignum hoc penate tueturPraecipitem aetatem.Young Coleman plays truant from school, and one day, when the school is empty, breaks and defiles the horse. He openly boasts of his feat, and returning another day to repeat his misdeed, is caught by Nisus, who mounts him on the injuredhorse, which, by poetical license, is made to whinny with content. The youth expects twenty cuts, and receives four:Quattuor[105]inflixit tantum mediocriter ictus,Plures optet equus, plures daret arbiter aequus.Coleman senior calls on the Schoolmaster, who remarks that payment for his son's schooling is in arrear. Coleman returns with Mrs. Coleman, and demands a receipt for the payment, which he makes, as Nisus discovers, lest a counter-action be brought against him:Vult sibi ut absolvens[106]accepti latio deturConsignata manu Nisi, atque a teste probata.Then Mrs. Coleman shows herself deserving of the cucking-stool:..... bona CarbonissaInque caput Nisi cumulata opprobria plaustroDigna et rixivomas sub aquis mersante[107]cathedra,Quinetiam manibus quasi pugnatura lacessit.They bring their action for assault. (The English words in the marginal notes, placed below, are in black-letter:)Nulla mora est, juristam adhibent, de fonte dicarumQui populo Placita ad Communia[108]panditur, exitSchedula quod vulgo[109]Regis Breve dicitur: illoMox capitur Nisus, geminoque sub obside spondetIn responsurum praescripto tempore: tempusCunctarum[110]lux est animarum crastini. VerumActor quis?[111]Puer ipse, virum qui provocat, annosNondum bis-senos superans. Sed et actio quaenam?Quid crimen? Pravus atque atrox injuria, tristesEt tragicae ambages, ampullae sesquipedales,Quod[112]Regis contra pacem vi Nisus, et armisInsultum fecit, male tractans verbere saevoVerberibus diris adeo, plenisque pericliDe pueri vita ut desperaretur.The poem ends, leaving poor Nisus in the midst of his first law-suit:EcceNisus, jam primum Nisus miser ambulat in jus:and the marginal note is 'In causis litigiosis sive casibus inscriptionum stylus Johannes de Stiles versus Johannem de Nokes.' A concluding chronogram gives the year 1629:LVDI MagIster LIte VeXatVr forI.The Schoolmaster's friends have written him complimentary epigrams, which are prefixed to his poem. One is worth reproducing, ae it has an echo of Crashaw's:AdκοπροχρυσοῦνταSuavia nonnulli lutulento carmine narrant:Turpia tu nitido, Nise poeta, places.In black-letter, as follows:Some cloath faire tales in sluttish eloquence:Thy tale is foule, thy verse is frankincense.T. Lovering Artium Ludiq. Magister.There seems little doubt that Crashaw's two poems were born of this anonymous tractate. Cf. 'rixivomas' (p. 310) with 'vomitivam' and 'rixosa volumina linguae.' Biographically they and others secular have a special interest and value. My good friend Rev. Richard Wilton, as before, has very happily translated these playthings.G.

EnPriscianusVerberansetVapulans.Jam publicato verberans aures styloQua penis iterum vapulet, metuit crisin.LondiniExcudebat Augustinus Mathewes impensisRoberti Mulbourne ad insigneCanis venatici in coemeterio Paulino.1632.

The words 'Priscianus Verberans et Vapulans' remind us of the once-famous 'Comoedia' of Nicodemus Freschlin; but the later poem shows no reminiscence of the earlier. These details will doubtless interest and amuse in relation to Crashaw's pieces. Priscianus, otherwise Nisus, a schoolmaster, whips a boy who broke and dirtied his whipping-horse, and the boy's parents bring an action against him for assault. The place is evidently Aldborough in Suffolk—illumined by the genius of Crabbe—and the name of the boy's family Coleman. The poem thus begins and proceeds—the marginal notes being placed at the bottom of our pages:

Pinguibus in populi, qui dicitur Austricus,[101]arvisPraeturam, fasces, lictores nuper adeptaVilla[102]antiqua, novo jam Burgi turget honore.

He describes the school:

Vicinae senior Carbonius[103]incola villae,'Lingua vernacula idem quodἀνθράκανδρος,

sends his son as a scholar: the stipend 20s.a year:

De stipe[103]consentit genitor: Carbunculus intrat.

He describes the whipping-block, the judicious use of which saves boys from the gallows:

Iste caballusthe TrojanNon in perniciem, non urbis ut ille ruinamSed curam imberbis populi, regimenque salubre:A triplici ligno[104]lignum hoc penate tueturPraecipitem aetatem.

Young Coleman plays truant from school, and one day, when the school is empty, breaks and defiles the horse. He openly boasts of his feat, and returning another day to repeat his misdeed, is caught by Nisus, who mounts him on the injuredhorse, which, by poetical license, is made to whinny with content. The youth expects twenty cuts, and receives four:

Quattuor[105]inflixit tantum mediocriter ictus,Plures optet equus, plures daret arbiter aequus.

Coleman senior calls on the Schoolmaster, who remarks that payment for his son's schooling is in arrear. Coleman returns with Mrs. Coleman, and demands a receipt for the payment, which he makes, as Nisus discovers, lest a counter-action be brought against him:

Vult sibi ut absolvens[106]accepti latio deturConsignata manu Nisi, atque a teste probata.

Then Mrs. Coleman shows herself deserving of the cucking-stool:

..... bona CarbonissaInque caput Nisi cumulata opprobria plaustroDigna et rixivomas sub aquis mersante[107]cathedra,Quinetiam manibus quasi pugnatura lacessit.

They bring their action for assault. (The English words in the marginal notes, placed below, are in black-letter:)

Nulla mora est, juristam adhibent, de fonte dicarumQui populo Placita ad Communia[108]panditur, exitSchedula quod vulgo[109]Regis Breve dicitur: illoMox capitur Nisus, geminoque sub obside spondetIn responsurum praescripto tempore: tempusCunctarum[110]lux est animarum crastini. VerumActor quis?[111]Puer ipse, virum qui provocat, annosNondum bis-senos superans. Sed et actio quaenam?Quid crimen? Pravus atque atrox injuria, tristesEt tragicae ambages, ampullae sesquipedales,Quod[112]Regis contra pacem vi Nisus, et armisInsultum fecit, male tractans verbere saevoVerberibus diris adeo, plenisque pericliDe pueri vita ut desperaretur.

The poem ends, leaving poor Nisus in the midst of his first law-suit:

EcceNisus, jam primum Nisus miser ambulat in jus:

and the marginal note is 'In causis litigiosis sive casibus inscriptionum stylus Johannes de Stiles versus Johannem de Nokes.' A concluding chronogram gives the year 1629:

LVDI MagIster LIte VeXatVr forI.

The Schoolmaster's friends have written him complimentary epigrams, which are prefixed to his poem. One is worth reproducing, ae it has an echo of Crashaw's:

AdκοπροχρυσοῦνταSuavia nonnulli lutulento carmine narrant:Turpia tu nitido, Nise poeta, places.

In black-letter, as follows:

Some cloath faire tales in sluttish eloquence:Thy tale is foule, thy verse is frankincense.

T. Lovering Artium Ludiq. Magister.

There seems little doubt that Crashaw's two poems were born of this anonymous tractate. Cf. 'rixivomas' (p. 310) with 'vomitivam' and 'rixosa volumina linguae.' Biographically they and others secular have a special interest and value. My good friend Rev. Richard Wilton, as before, has very happily translated these playthings.G.

Quid facis? ah, tam perversa quid volvitur ira?Quid parat iste tuus, posterus iste furor?Ah, truculente puer, tam foedo parce furori.Nec rapiat tragicas tam gravis ira nates.Ecce fremit, fremit ecce indignabundus Apollo.Castalides fugiunt, et procul ora tegunt.Sic igitur sacrum, sic insedisse caballumQuaeris? et, ah, fieri tam male notus eques?Ille igitur phaleris nitidus lucebit in istis?Haec erit ad solidum turpis habena latus?His ille, haud nimium rigidis, dabit ora lupatis?Haec fluet in miseris sordida vitta jubis?Sic erit ista tui, sic aurea pompa triumphi?Ille sub imperiis ibit olentis heri?Ille tamen neque terribili stat spumeus ira;Ungula nec celso fervida calce tonat.O merito spectatur equi patientia nostri!Dicite Io, tantum quis toleravit equus?Pegasus iste ferox, mortales spretus habenas.Bellerophontaea non tulit ire manu.Noster equus tamen exemplo non turget in isto:Stat bonus, et solito se pede certus habet.Imo licet tantos de te tulit ille pudores,Te tulit ille iterum, sed meliore modo.Tunc rubor in scapulas O quam bene transiit iste,Qui satis in vultus noluit ire tuos!At mater centum in furias abit, et vomit iramMille modis rabidam jura, forumque fremit.Quin fera tu taceas; aut jura forumque tacebunt:Tu legi vocem non sinis esse suam.O male vibratae rixosa volumina linguae,Et satis in nullo verba tonanda foro!Causidicos, vesana! tuos tua fulmina terrent.Ecce stupent miseri, ah, nec meminere loqui.Hinc tua, foede puer, foedati hinc terga caballiExercent querulo jurgia lenta foro.Obscaenas lites, et olentia jurgia ridetTurpiter in causam sollicitata Themis.Juridicus lites quisquis tractaverit istas,O satis emuncta nare sit ille, precor,At tu de misero quid vis, truculente, caballo?Cur premis insultans, saeve, tyranne puer!Tene igitur fugiet? fugiet sacer iste caballus?Non fugiet, sed, si vis, tibi terga dabit.[113]

TRANSLATION.

PRISCIANUS BEATING AND BEING BEATEN.

What wouldest thou? why rolls thy wayward ire?What means that rage of thine dirty and dire?Ah, savage boy, such fury foul forbear,Nor let thy wrath those tragic buttocks tear.Apollo, all indignant, groans and sighs;The Muses flee, and hide them from thine eyes.Thus dost thou seek to sit the sacred steed?Thus to become a horseman fam'd indeed!In such adornment shall he brightly shine?His firm flank lash'd by this base whip of thine?His mouth to this loose bit shall he deliver?O'er his poor mane this filthy fillet quiver?In golden triumph thus shalt thou proceed,So rank a lord bestriding such a steed?Yet foaming with dire rage he does not stand,Nor with hot hoof go thundering o'er the land.Our horse's patience is a wond'rous sight!O, say, what horse before endur'd such wight?Old Pegasus, despising mortal sway,Bellerophon's strong hand disdain'd to obey:And yet with no such rage swells this our horse;Quiet he stands, and holds his wonted course.Nay, though he bore such shame from thee that day,Again he bore thee—in a better way!Then to thy shoulders fitly pass'd the blush,Which to thy countenance refus'd to rush.His mother furious raves and wildly spluttersA thousand spites, and of the law-courts mutters.Peace, woman! or the law-courts thou wilt awe;Thou dost not leave its own voice to the Law.O fractious eddies of the brandish'd tongue,Such words as in no law-court ever rung.Thy very lawyers from thy thunders hide:Lo, they forget to speak, as stupefied.Thus, thus, foul boy, thy fouled horse's hideBy wrangling law-court's tedious strife is plied.While Justice, summon'd to a cause so vile,Views the rank strife obscene with scornful smile.Whatever judge such nasty action tries,See that he blow his nose well, I advise.But why wouldst thou, cruel, tyrannic boy,With thy insulting weight that horse annoy?That sacred steed, will it, then, from thee flee?—'Twill not turn tail, but lend its back to thee!R. Wi.

SUPER HAC RE AB IPSO LUDI MAGISTRO EDITUM, QUI DICITUR 'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'

Sordes ô tibi gratulamur istas,O Musa aurea, blanda, delicata;O Musa, ô tibi candidas, suoqueJam nec nomine, jam nec ore notas:Sacro carmine quippe delinitaeSe nunc, ô bene nesciunt, novaqueMirantur facie novum nitorem.Ipsas tu facis ô nitere sordes.Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas.Si non hic natibus procax malignisFoedo fulmine turpis intonasset,Unde insurgeret haec querela vindex,Docto et murmure carminis severiDulces fortiter aggregaret iras?Ipsae ô te faciunt nitere sordes:Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas.Quam pulchre tua migrat Hippocrene!Turpi quam bene degener parenti!Foedi filia tam serena fontis.Has de stercore quis putaret undas?Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge;Surge inter medias serena sordes.Spumis qualiter in suis Dione,Cum prompsit latus aureum, atque primasOrtu purpureo movebat undas.Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge:Enni stercus erit Maronis aurum.

TRANSLATION.

TO A TRACTATE ON THIS SUBJECT

PUBLISHED BY THE MASTER OF THE SCHOOL HIMSELF, WHICH IS CALLED 'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'

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