[498] Natavit.
"And she who mock'd the javelins whistling round,
And swam the Tiber, then the empire's bound." Gifford.
[499] Servus. Livy calls him Vindicius; and derives from him the name of the Vindicta, "the rod of manumission." Liv., ii., 7. He was mourned for at his death by the Roman matrons publicly, as Brutus had been.
[500] Legum prima securis. Tarquinius Priscus introduced the axe and fasces with the other regalia. The axe therefore had often fallen for the tyrants; now it is used for the first time in defense of a legal constitution and a free republic.
[501] Thersites. Hom., Il., ii., 212.
[502] Asylo. Cf. Liv., i., 8.
SATIRE IX.
I should like to know, Nævolus,[503] why you so often meet me with clouded brow forlorn, like Marsyas after his defeat. What have you to do with such a face as Ravola had when detected with his Rhodope?[504] We give a slave a box on the ear, if he licks the pastry. Why! Crepereius Pollio[505] had not a more woe-begone face than yours; he that went about ready to pay three times the ordinary interest, and could find none fools enough to trust him. Where do so many wrinkles come from all of a sudden? Why, surely before, contented with little, you used to live like a gentleman's gentleman[506]—a witty boon-companion with your biting jest, and sharp at repartees that savor of town-life!
Now all is the reverse; your looks are dejected; your tangled hair bristles like a thicket;[507] there is none of that sleekness over your whole skin, such as the Bruttian plaster of hot pitch used to give you; but your legs are neglected and rank with a shrubbery of hair. What means this emaciated form, like that of some old invalid parched this many a day with quartan ague and fever that has made his limbs its home? You may detect[508] the anguish of the mind that lurks in the sickly body—and discover its joys also. For the face, the index of the mind, takes its complexion from each. You seem, therefore, to have changed your course of life, and to run counter to your former habits. For, but lately, as I well remember, you used to haunt the temple of Isis,[509] and the statue of Ganymede in the temple of Peace,[510] and the secret palaces of the imported mother[511] of the gods; ay, and Ceres too (for what temple is there in which you may not find a woman)—a more notorious adulterer even than Aufidius, and under the rose, not confining your attentions to the wives!
"Yes: even this way of life is profitable to many. But I never made it worth my while: we do occasionally get greasy cloaks, that serve to save our toga, of coarse texture and indifferent dye, the clumsy workmanship of some French weaver's lay; or a small piece of silver of inferior metal.[512] The Fates control the destinies of men: nay, there is fate even in those very parts which the lap of the toga conceals from view. For if the stars are unpropitious, your manly powers, remaining unknown, will profit you nothing, even though the liquorish Virro has seen you stripped, and seductive billets-doux, closely following each other, are forever assailing you: for such a fellow as he even entices others to sin. Yet, what monster can be worse, than one miserly as well as effeminate?"[513] "I gave you so much, then so much, and then soon after you had more!" He reckons up and still acts the wanton. "Let us settle our accounts! Send for the slaves with my account-book! Reckon up five thousand sesterces in all! Then count up your services!" Are then my duties so light, and so little against the grain? Far less wretched will be the poor slave that digs the great man's land! But you, forsooth, thought yourself delicate, and young, and beautiful! fit to be a cup-bearer in heaven!