ARGUMENT OF THE SEVENTH SATIRE

THIS satire is an account of the position at Rome of the literary and the learned professions. Nowhere, says Juvenal, can any hope for them be found except in the Emperor; for the mean and illiberal spirit of those who should be the patrons of literature reduces poets to poverty and despair; no one can write good verses who is starving; historians are in no better state; success in legal oratory depends solely upon ostentation; for merit may win applause, but high fees go to great houses and fine clothes; while the professors of rhetoric and the schoolmasters are insulted by their pupils and defrauded even of the small sum they can demand; they are expected to know everything, and are paid almost nothing. In fact, Rome is no place for learning or genius unsupported by wealth.

Er spes et ratio studiorum in Caesare tantum :
Solus enim tristes hac tempestate Camenas

Respexit, quum jam celebres notique poetae
Balneolum Gabiis, Romae conducere furnos
Tentarent, nec foedum alii, nec turpe putarent
Praecones fieri; quum desertis Aganippes
Vallibus, esuriens migraret in atria Clio.
Nam si Pieria quadrans tibi nullus in umbra
Ostendatur, ames nomen victumque Machaerae
Et vendas potius, commissa quod auctio vendit
Stantibus, oenophorum, tripodes, armaria, cistas,
Alcithoen Pacci, Thebas et Terea Fausti.
Hoc satius, quam si dicas sub judice, Vidi,

Quod non vidisti. Faciant equites Asiani,

Quanquam et Cappadoces faciant equitesque Bithyni,

Altera quos nudo traducit Gallia talo.

Nemo tamen studiis indignum ferre laborem

Cogetur posthac, nectit quicunque canoris

Eloquium vocale modis laurumque momordit.

Hoc agite, o juvenes: circumspicit et stimulat vos

Materiamque sibi Ducis indulgentia quaerit.

IO

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YES, all the hopes of learning, 'tis confest,
And all the patronage, on CAESAR rest:
For he alone the drooping Nine regards-
When, now, our best, and most illustrious bards,
Quit their ungrateful studies, and retire,
Bagnios and bakehouses, for bread, to hire;
With humbled views, a life of toil embrace,
And deem a crier's business no disgrace;
Since Clio, driven by hunger from the shade,
Mixes in crowds, and bustles for a trade.

And truly, if (the bard's too frequent curse)
No coin be found in your Pierian purse,
'Twere not ill done to copy, for the nonce,
Machaera, and turn auctioneer at once.
Hie, my poetick friend; in accents loud,
Commend your precious lumber to the crowd,
Old tubs, stools, presses, wrecks of many a chest,
Paccius' damn'd plays, Thebes, Tereus, and the rest.
And better so- -than haunt the courts of law,
And swear, for hire, to what you never saw :
Leave this resource to Cappadocian knights,
To Gallogreeks, and such newfangled wights,
As want, or infamy, has chased from home,
And driven, in barefoot multitudes, to Rome.

Come, my brave youths !—the genuine sons of rhyme,
Who, in sweet numbers, couch the true sublime,
Shall, from this hour, no more their fate accuse,
Or stoop to pains unworthy of the Muse.

Come, my brave youths! your tuneful labours ply,
Secure of favour; lo! the imperial eye
Looks round, attentive, on each rising bard,
For worth to praise, for genius to reward!

Si qua aliunde putas rerum expectanda tuarum
Praesidia, atque ideo croceae membrana tabellae
Impletur; lignorum aliquid posce ocius et, quae
Componis, dona Veneris, Telesine, marito,

Aut claude et positos tinea pertunde libellos.
Frange miser calamos vigilataque proelia dele,
Qui facis in parva sublimia carmina cella,
Ut dignus venias hederis et imagine macra.

Spes nulla ulterior: didicit jam dives avarus

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Tantum admirari, tantum laudare disertos,

Ut pueri Junonis avem. Sed defluit aetas

Et pelagi patiens et cassidis atque ligonis.

Taedia tunc subeunt animos, tunc seque suamque

Terpsichoren odit facunda et nuda senectus.

Accipe nunc artes, ne quid tibi conferat iste,

Quem colis; et Musarum et Apollinis aede relicta,
Ipse facit versus atque uni cedit Homero

Propter mille annos; et, si dulcedine famae

Succensus recites, Maculonus commodat aedes;

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