Monday, February 28, 2011

Horace, Satire 1.9

Ibam forte via sacra, sicut meus est mos
nescio quid meditans nugarum , totus in illis.
accurrit quidam notus mihi nomine tantum,
arreptaque manu: 'quid agis, dulcissime rerum?'
'suaviter, ut nunc est' inquam, 'et cupio omnia, quae vis.'
cum adsectaretur: 'numquid vis?' occupo, at ille
'noris nos' inquit, 'docti sumus.' hic ego: 'pluris
hoc' inquam 'mihi eris.' misere discedere quaerens
ire modo ocius, interdum consistere, in aurem
dicere nescio quid puero, cum sudor ad imos
manaret talos. 'o te, Bolane, cerebri
felicem' aiebam tacitus, cum quidlibet ille
garriret, vicos, urbem laudaret. ut illi
nil respondebam: 'misere cupis' inquit 'abire;
iam dudum video. sed nil agis; usque tenebo.
persequar hinc, quo nunc iter est tibi.' 'nil opus est te
circumagi: quendam volo visere non tibi notum;
trans Tiberim longe cubat is prope Caesaris hortos.'
'nil habeo, quad agam, et non sum piger: usque sequar te.'
demitto auriculas, ut iniquae mentis asellus,
cum gravius dorso subiit onus. incipit ille:
'si bene me novi, non Viscum pluis amicum,
non Varium facies: nam quis me scribere pluris
aut citius possit versus? quis membra movere
mollius? invideat quod et Hermogenes ego canto.'
interpellandi locus hic erat: 'est tibi mater,
cognati, quis te salvo est opus?' 'haud mihi quisquam;
omnis composui.' 'felices! nunc ego resto.
confice! manque instat fatum mihi triste, Sabella
quod puero cecinit divina mota anus urna:
hunc neque dira venena, nec hosticus auferet ensis,
nec laterum dolor aut tussis, nec tarda podagra:
garrulus hunc quando consumet cumque. loquaces,
si sapiat, vitet, simul atque adoleverit aetas.'
ventum erat ad Vestae, quarta iam parte diei
praeterita, et casu tum respondere vadato
debebat, quod ni fecisset, perdere litem.
'si me amas' inquit, 'paulum hi ades.' 'inteream, si
aut valeo stare aut novi civilia iura,
et propero, quo scis.' 'dubius sum, quid faciam' inquit,
''tene relinquam, an rem.' 'me, sodes.' 'non faciam' ille
et praecedere coepit. ego, ut contendere durum
cum victore, sequor. 'Maecenas quomodo tecum?'
hinc repetit, 'paucorum hominum et mentis bene sanae;
nemo dexterius fortuna est usus. haberes
magum adiutorem, posset qui ferre secundas,
hunc hominem velles si tradere. dispeream, ni
summosses omnis.' 'non isto vivimus illic,
quo tu rere, modo. domus hac nec purior ulla est,
nec magis his aliena malis. nil mi officit, inquam,
ditior hic aut est quia doctior: est locus uni
cuique suus.' 'accendis, quare cupiam magis illi
proxumus esse.' 'velis tantummodo: quae tua virtus,
expugnabis, et est, qui vinci possit, eoque
difficilis aditus primos habet.' 'haud mihi dero:
muneribus servos corrumpam; non, hodie si
exclusus fuero, destistam; tempora quaeram,
occurram in triviis, deducam. nil sine magno
vita labore dedit mortalibus.' haec dum agit, ecce
Fuscus Aristius occurrit, mihi carus et illum
qui pulchre nosset. consistimus. 'unde venis?' et
'quo tendis?' rogat et respondet. vellere coepi
et pressare manu lentissima brachia, nutans,
distorquens oculos, ut me eriperet. male salsus
ridens dissumulare, meum iecur urere bilis:
'certe nescio quid secreto velle loqui te
aibas mecum.' 'memini bene, sed meliore
tempore dicam: hodie tricesima sabbata. vin tu
curtis Iudaeis oppedere?' 'nulla mihi' inquam
'religio est.' 'at mi! sum paulo infirmior, unus
multorum. ignosces; alias loquar.' huncine solem
tam nigrum surrexe mihi! fugit inprobus ac me
sub cultro linquit. casu venit obvius illi
adversarius et 'quo tu, turpissime?' magna
inclamat voce, et 'licet antestari?' ego vero
oppono auriculam. rapit in ius: clamor utrimque,
undique concursus. sic me servavit Apollo.


By chance I was going by the sacred way, as is my custom,
contemplating I don't know what of trifles, totally in these things.
A certain man familiar to me only in name ran up
and seized my hand: "How are you, the sweetest thing of the world?"
"Pleasantly, just as it is now," I say, "and I want you to have everything which you wish."
Since he followed closely: "Surely you don't want something?" I take the lead over, but he
says, "You should get to know me. I am learned." At this I say, "You will
be to me worth more for this reason." Miserably seeking to depart,
I go now more quickly, at times I stop, I say
I don't know what to the boy in his ear, while sweat was flowing
to the bottom or my ankles. "Oh you, Bolanus, lucky
for your temper," I was silently saying, while he was chattering whatever,
he was praising the city, the neighborhoods. Since
I was responding nothing to him: "You miserably wish to leave," he said.
"For a long time I see that. But you do nothing; I continuously persist.
Henceforth I will pursue to where you are now going." "It is not necessary
to be led out of your way: I wish to go see a certain friend not known to you;
far across the Tiber near the gardens of Caesar he is confined to bed by illness."
"I have nothing which I am doing, and I am not lazy: I will follow you all the way."
I send down my ears, just as a young donkey discontented of mind,
when he undergoes a rather heavy burden on a hill. He said:
"As certainly as I know myself, you will not regard Viscus Varius as a friend
of more value: for who can write more verses
or quicker than me? Who can more limbs
more gently? Even Hermogenes would envy what I sing."
This was a location for interrupting: "Do you have a mother,
whose concern is it that you are healthy?" "I don't have anyone;
I buried them all." "What lucky people! Now I remain.
Finish me off! For a sad fate looms over me, which
an old Sabine woman having shaken her urn said to me when I was a boy:
neither terrible poison nor the hostile sword will kill this boy,
nor pain of his sides nor gout:
a chatterbox will destroy this one at some point or other. If he is wise,
he will avoid talkative people, up until he reaches the prime of his life."
We had come to the temple of Vesta, now with the fourth part of the day
having passed by, and by chance he had to respond to a plaintiff,
which, unless he did it, he would have to loose the case.
"If you love me," he said, "be by my side for a little bit." "May I perish, if
either I am strong enough to stand or if I know civil laws,
and I hasten, whither you know." "I am uncertain what I am to do," he said,
"Will I abandon you or the thing." "Me, please." "I will not do that," he
said and began to go on ahead. I, since it is hard to compete
with the victor, follow. "How are things with you and Maecenas?"
he resumed, "well sound in mind of a few men;
fortune enjoys nobody more favorably. You have
a great helper, he who can play second,
if you wish to introduce this man. May I perish, lest
you have banished all others." "We are not living in that manner there,
in which you think. His house is neither more clean in this way than any other,
nor more evil to this aliens. It does not impede me, I say,
whether he is more wealthy or more learned: to each one
there is is own spot." "You tell a great thing, scarcely believable." "But
it is so." "You arouse me, wherefore I will wish to be next
to him more." "You would only wish it: which is your virtue,
you will conquer, he who is able to be conquered, for that
reason he keeps the first approach exclusive." "I will hardly fail myself:
I will corrupt the slaves with gifts; if I am excluded
today, I will not stop. I will search out the right times,
I will hurry to meet him in the streets, I will escort him. Life has given
nothing to mortals without great labor." While he was saying these things, behold,
Aristius Fuscus rain up, dear to me and the kind who
would know him well. We stop. "From where are you coming?" and
"For what purpose are you proceeding?" He asks and responds. I begin to tug
and to press my hand against his most unresponsive arms with nodding,
twisting my eyes this way and that, in order that he would rescue me. Laughing, he
pretends to misunderstand, bile burns my liver:
"Certainly you are saying that you wish to speak
with me secretly." "I remember well, but I will speak at a
better time: today is the thirtieth sabbath. You don't
wish to fart in the face of a circumcised Jew, do you?" "No religion is
for me," I say. "But I am! I am a little weak, one
of many. For give me; I will speak at another time." This day
rose so dark for me! The shameless fled and
abandoned me under the knife. By chance a hostile enemy came
to that place and "Where are you going, saddest of men?" he cried
in a great voice, and "Is it permitted for me to call you as a witness?" Indeed, I
offered my ear. He hurries to court: shouting is on both sides,
running to and fro on all sides. Thus Apollo protects me.

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