Quantas rerum flectat habenas
Natura potens, quibus inmensum
Legibus orbem prouida seruet
Stringatque ligans inresoluto
Singula nexu, placet arguto 5
Fidibus lentis promere cantu.
Quamuis Poeni pulchra leones
Vincula gestent manibusque datas
Captent escas metuantque trucem
Soliti uerbera ferre magistrum, 10
Si cruor horrida tinxerit ora,
Resides olim redeunt animi
Fremituque graui meminere sui;
Laxant nodis colla solutis
Primusque lacer dente cruento 15
Domitor rabidas imbuit iras.
Quae canit altis garrula ramis
Ales caueae clauditur antro;
Huic licet inlita pocula melle
Largasque dapes dulci studio 20
Ludens hominum cura ministret,
Si tamen arto saliens texto
Nemorum gratas uiderit umbras,
Sparsas pedibus proterit escas,
Siluas tantum maesta requirit, 25
Siluas dulci uoce susurrat.
Validis quondam uiribus acta
Pronum flectit uirga cacumen;
Hanc si curuans dextra remisit,
Recto spectat uertice caelum. 30
Cadit Hesperias Phoebus in undas,
Sed secreto tramite rursus
Currum solitos uertit ad ortus.
Repetunt proprios quaeque recursus
Redituque suo singula gaudent 35
Nec manet ulli traditus ordo
Nisi quod fini iunxerit ortum
Stabilemque sui fecerit orbem.
II.
How the first reins of all things guided are
By powerful Nature as the chiefest cause,
And how she keeps, with a foreseeing care,
The spacious world in order by her laws,
And to sure knots which nothing can untie,
By her strong hand all earthly motions draws—
To show all this we purpose now to try
Our pliant string, our musick's thrilling sound.
Although the Libyan lions often lie
Gentle and tame in splendid fetters bound,[121]
And fearing their incensed master's wrath,
With patient looks endure each blow and wound,
Yet if their jaws they once in blood do bathe,
They, gaining courage,[122] with fierce noise awake
The force which Nature in them seated hath,
And from their necks the broken chains do shake;
Then he that tamed them first doth feel their rage,
And torn in pieces doth their fury slake.
The bird shut up in an unpleasing cage,
Which on the lofty trees did lately sing,
Though men, her want of freedom to assuage,
Should unto her with careful labour bring
The sweetest meats which they can best devise,
Yet when within her prison fluttering
The pleasing shadows of the groves she spies,
Her hated food she scatters with her feet,
In yearning spirit to the woods she flies,
The woods' delights do tune her accents sweet.
When some strong hand doth tender plant constrain
With his debased top the ground to meet,
If it let go, the crooked twig again
Up toward Heaven itself it straight doth raise.
Phoebus doth fall into the western main,
Yet doth he back return by secret ways,
And to the earth doth guide his chariot's race.
Each thing a certain course and laws obeys,
Striving to turn back to his proper place;
Nor any settled order can be found,
But that which doth within itself embrace
The births and ends of all things in a round.
[121] Literally, "and take food offered by the hand."
[122] Literally, "their spirits, hitherto sluggish, return."
III.
Vos quoque, o terrena animalia, tenui licet imagine uestrum tamen principium somniatis uerumque illum beatitudinis finem licet minime perspicaci qualicumque tamen cogitatione prospicitis eoque uos et ad uerum bonum naturalis ducit intentio et ab eodem multiplex error abducit. Considera namque an per ea quibus se homines adepturos beatitudinem putant ad destinatum finem ualeant peruenire. Si enim uel pecuniae uel honores ceteraque tale quid afferunt cui nihil bonorum abesse uideatur, nos quoque fateamur fieri aliquos horum adeptione felices. Quod si neque id ualent efficere quod promittunt bonisque pluribus carent, nonne liquido falsa in eis beatitudinis species deprehenditur? Primum igitur te ipsum qui paulo ante diuitiis affluebas, interrogo: Inter illas abundantissimas opes numquamne animum tuum concepta ex qualibet iniuria confudit anxietas?" "Atqui," inquam, "libero me fuisse animo quin aliquid semper angerer reminisci non queo." "Nonne quia uel aberat quod abesse non uelles uel aderat quod adesse noluisses?" "Ita est," inquam. "Illius igitur praesentiam huius absentiam desiderabas?" "Confiteor," inquam. "Eget uero," inquit, "eo quod quisque desiderat?" "Eget," inquam. "Qui uero eget aliquo, non est usquequaque sibi ipse sufficiens?" "Minime," inquam. "Tu itaque hanc insufficientiam plenus," inquit, "opibus sustinebas?" "Quidni?" inquam. "Opes igitur nihilo indigentem sufficientemque sibi facere nequeunt et hoc erat quod promittere uidebantur. Atqui hoc quoque maxime considerandum puto quod nihil habeat suapte natura pecunia ut his a quibus possidetur inuitis nequeat auferri." "Fateor," inquam. "Quidni fateare, cum eam cotidie ualentior aliquis eripiat inuito? Vnde enim forenses querimoniae nisi quod uel ui uel fraude nolentibus pecuniae repetuntur ereptae?" "Ita est," inquam. "Egebit igitur," inquit, "extrinsecus petito praesidio quo suam pecuniam quisque tueatur?" "Quis id," inquam, "neget?" "Atqui non egeret eo, nisi possideret pecuniam quam posset amittere?" "Dubitari," inquam, "nequit." "In contrarium igitur relapsa res est; nam quae sufficientes sibi facere putabantur opes, alieno potius praesidio faciunt indigentes. Quis autem modus est quo pellatur diuitiis indigentia? Num enim diuites esurire nequeunt? Num sitire non possunt? Num frigus hibernum pecuniosorum membra non sentiunt? Sed adest, inquies, opulentis quo famem satient, quo sitim frigusque depellant. Sed hoc modo consolari quidem diuitiis indigentia potest, auferri penitus non potest. Nam si haec hians semper atque aliquid poscens opibus expletur, maneat necesse est quae possit expleri. Taceo quod naturae minimum, quod auaritiae nihil satis est. Quare si opes nec submouere possunt indigentiam et ipsae suam faciunt, quid est quod eas sufficientiam praestare credatis?
III.
You also, O earthly creatures, though slightly and as it were in a dream acknowledge your beginning, and though not perspicuously yet in some sort behold that true end of happiness, so that the intention of nature leadeth you to the true good, and manifold error withdraweth you from it. For consider whether those things, by which men think to obtain happiness, can bring them to their desired end. For if either money, or honour, or any of the rest be of that quality that they want nothing which is good, we will also confess that they are able to make men happy. But if they neither be able to perform that they promise, and want many things which are good, are they not manifestly discovered to have a false appearance of happiness? First then, I ask thee thyself, who not long since didst abound with wealth; in that plenty of riches, was thy mind never troubled with any injuries?" "I cannot remember," quoth I, "that ever my mind was so free from trouble but that something or other still vexed me." "Was it not because thou either wantedst something which thou wouldst have had, or else hadst something which thou wouldst have wanted?" "It is true," quoth I. "Then thou desiredst the presence of that, and the absence of this?" "I confess I did," quoth I. "And doth not a man want that," quoth she, "which he desireth?" "He doth," quoth I. "But he that wanteth anything is not altogether sufficient of himself?" "He is not," quoth I. "So that thou feltest this insufficiency, even the height of thy wealth?" "Why not?" quoth I. "Then riches cannot make a man wanting nothing nor sufficient of himself, and this was that they seemed to promise. But this is most of all to be considered, that money hath nothing of itself which can keep it from being taken from them which possess it, against their will." "I grant it," quoth I. "Why shouldst thou not grant it, since that every day those which are more potent take it from others perforce? For from whence proceed so many complaints in law, but that money gotten either by violence or deceit is sought to be recovered by that means?" "It is so indeed," quoth I. "So that every man needeth some other help to defend his money?" "Who denies that?" quoth I. "But he should not need that help, unless he had money which he might lose?" "There is no doubt of that," quoth I. "Now then the matter is fallen out quite contrary; for riches, which are thought to suffice of themselves, rather make men stand in need of other helps. And after what manner do riches expel penury? For are not rich men hungry? Are they not thirsty? Or doth much money make the owners senseless of cold in winter? But thou wilt say, wealthy men have wherewithal to satisfy their hunger, slake their thirst, and defend themselves from cold. But in this sort, though want may be somewhat relieved by wealth, yet it cannot altogether be taken away. For if ever gaping and craving it be satiated by riches, there must needs always remain something to be satiated. I omit, that to nature very little, to covetousness nothing is sufficient. Wherefore if riches can neither remove wants, and cause some themselves, why imagine you that they can cause sufficiency?