It is the custom of poets to pray for a hundred voices,[1409] and to wish for a hundred mouths and a hundred tongues for their verses;[1410] whether the subject proposed be one to be mouthed[1411] by a grim-visaged[1412] Tragœdian, or the wounds[1413] of a Parthian drawing his weapon from his groin.[1414]
Cornutus.[1415] What is the object of this? or what masses[1416] of robust song are you heaping up, so as to require the support of a hundred throats? Let those who are about to speak on grand subjects collect mists on Helicon;[1417] all those for whom the pot of Procne[1418] or Thyestes shall boil, to be often supped on by the insipid Glycon.[1419] You neither press forth the air from the panting bellows, while the mass is smelting in the furnace; nor, hoarse with pent-up murmur, foolishly croak out something ponderous, nor strive to burst your swollen cheeks with puffing.[1420] You adopt the language of the Toga,[1421] skillful at judicious combination, with moderate style, well rounded,[1422] clever at lashing depraved morals,[1423] and with well-bred sportiveness to affix the mark of censure. Draw from this source what you have to say; and leave at Mycenæ the tables, with the head[1424] and feet, and study plebeian dinners.
Persius. For my part, I do not aim at this, that my page may be inflated with air-blown trifles, fit only to give weight[1425] to smoke. We are talking apart from the crowd. I am now, at the instigation of the Muse, giving you my heart to sift;[1426] and delight in showing you, beloved friend, how large a portion of my soul is yours, Cornutus! Knock then, since thou knowest well how to detect what rings sound,[1427] and the glozings of a varnished[1428] tongue. For this I would dare to pray for a hundred voices, that with guileless voice I may unfold how deeply I have fixed thee in my inmost breast; and that my words may unseal for thee all that lies buried, too deep for words, in my secret heart.
When first the guardian purple left me, its timid charge,[1429] and my boss[1430] was hung up, an offering to the short-girt[1431]
Lares; when my companions were kind, and the white centre-fold[1432] gave my eyes license to rove with impunity over the whole Suburra; at the time when the path is doubtful, and error, ignorant of the purpose of life, makes anxious minds hesitate between the branching cross-ways, I placed myself under you. You, Cornutus, cherished my tender years in your Socratic bosom. Then your rule, dexterous in insinuating itself,[1433] being applied to me, straightened my perverse morals; my mind was convinced by your reasoning, and strove to yield subjection; and formed features skillfully moulded by your plastic thumb. For I remember that many long nights I spent with you; and with you robbed our feasts of the first hours of night. Our work was one. We both alike arranged our hours of rest, and relaxed our serious studies with a frugal meal.
Doubt not, at least, this fact; that both our days harmonize by some definite compact,[1434] and are derived from the selfsame planet. Either the Fate, tenacious of truth,[1435] suspended our natal hour in the equally poised balance, or else the Hour that presides over the faithful divides between the twins the harmonious destiny[1436] of us two; and we alike correct the influence of malignant Saturn[1437] by Jupiter, auspicious to both. At all events, there is some star, I know not what, that blends my destiny with thine.
There are a thousand species of men; and equally diversified is the pursuit of objects. Each has his own desire; nor do men live with one single wish. One barters beneath an orient sun,[1438] wares of Italy for a wrinkled pepper[1439] and grains of pale cumin.[1440] Another prefers, well-gorged, to heave in dewy[1441] sleep. Another indulges in the Campus Martius. Another is beggared by gambling. Another riots in sensual[1442] pleasures. But when the stony[1443] gout has crippled his joints, like the branches of an ancient beech—then too late they mourn that their days have passed in gross licentiousness, their light has been the fitful marsh-fog; and look back upon the life they have abandoned.[1444] But your delight is to grow pale over the midnight papers; for, as a trainer of youths, you plant in their well-purged ears[1445] the corn of Cleanthes.[1446] From this source seek, ye young and old, a definite object for your mind, and a provision against miserable gray hairs.
"It shall be done to-morrow."[1447] "To-morrow, the case will be just the same!" What, do you grant me one day as so great a matter? "But when that other day has dawned, we have already spent yesterday's to-morrow. For see, another to-morrow wears away our years, and will be always a little beyond you. For though it is so near you, and under the selfsame perch, you will in vain endeavor to overtake the felloe[1448] that revolves before you, since you are the hinder wheel, and on the second axle."