By a Ravenna Vintner once betray'd, So much for Wine and Water mixt I paid. But when I thought the purchas'd Liquor mine, The Rascal fob'd me off with only Wine. Addison.
And upon the Boy whose Throat was cut with an Icicle.
[219] Quid non sæva sibi voluit Fortuna licere? Aut ubi mors non est, si jugulatis, aquæ?
What various Deaths are we decreed to feel, If Waters poignard like the stubborn Steel?[220]
And this Greek Epigram:
Χρυσον ανηρ ἑυρων ελιπε βροχον, αυταρ ὁ χρυσον. Ον λιπεν ουχ ἑυρων, ἡψευ ον ἑυρε βροχον.
The Noose just tying, Cotta found a Purse,} The Rope serv'd Strephon, who, by Fate's Reverse,} Had lost the Gold,—to one a Blessing, one a Curse.}
Here, again, the true Spirit of Epigram seems wanting; we have no Point of Wit, but only a plain Narration of Fact. But still, the Words are so elegantly opposed to each other, and in so short a Compass, that we shall scarce meet with any Thing which exceeds it. While I am speaking of the different Subjects of Epigram, I would observe, that Religion is sometimes one. And as nothing is so suitable to Poetry as the Marvellous, nothing can afford more Matter for it than the Christian Religion, which so much abounds with Miracles. I shall shew, perhaps, hereafter, how well adapted it is for Poems of the highest Kind, when I come to speak of sacred Poetry; but how proper a Subject it is for Epigram, is self-evident. For tho' these sort of Verses are often ludicrous, and trifling; yet they sometimes breathe a Spirit of Sublimity, every way becoming them. There are many of Martial of this Kind. That, for Instance, to the Emperor Domitian, upon his erecting to himself a triumphal Arch, and a Temple to Fortune:
[221] Hic, ubi Fortunæ Reducis fulgentia late Templa nitent, felix area nuper erat. Hic stetit, Arctoi formosus pulvere belli, Purpureum fundens Cæsar ab ore jubar. Hic lauro redimita comas, & candida cultu, Roma salutavit voce, manuque, ducem. Grande loci meritum testantur & altera dona; Stat sacer, edomitis gentibus, arcus ovans. Hic gemini currus numerant elephanta frequentem; Sufficit immensis aureas ipse jugis. Hæc est digna tuis, Germanice, porta triumphis; Hos aditus urbem Martis habere decet.
Here late a happy Plain, where shines the Dome Sacred to Fortune safe conducting home. Here stopt great Cæsar, in his ruddy Car, With Dust resplendent of the northern War; While Rome with White bedeck'd, and Laurels crown'd, With eager Voice and Hand her Genius own'd. Here stands (for such the Merit of the Place) An Arch Triumphant o'er the Dacian Race. Two Chariots, drawn by Elephants, proclaim His double Conquest, and their double Shame. In Gold both Teams he reins with equal Hand, Alone sufficient for the wide Command. Portals like this, great Cæsar, well become The Mistress of the World, and Lord of Rome.