Satire III
_We might to connive at the faults of our friends, and all offences are
not to be ranked in the catalogue of crimes_.
This is a fault common to all singers, that among their friends they
never are inclined to sing when they are asked, [but] unasked, they
never desist. Tigellius, that Sardinian, had this [fault]. Had Caesar,
who could have forced him to compliance, besought him on account of his
father's friendship and his own, he would have had no success; if he
himself was disposed, he would chant lo Bacche over and over, from the
beginning of an entertainment to the very conclusion of it; one while at
the deepest pitch of his voice, at another time with that which answers
to the highest string of the tetrachord. There was nothing uniform in
that fellow; frequently would he run along, as one flying from an enemy;
more frequently [he walked] as if he bore [in procession] the sacrifice
of Juno: he had often two hundred slaves, often but ten: one while
talking of kings and potentates, every thing that was magnificent; at
another--"Let me have a three-legged table, and a cellar of clean salt,
and a gown which, though coarse, may be sufficient to keep out the
cold." Had you given ten hundred thousand sesterces to this moderate man
who was content with such small matters, in five days' time there would
be nothing in his bags. He sat up at nights, [even] to day-light; he
snored out all the day. Never was there anything so inconsistent with
itself. Now some person may say to me, "What are you? Have you no
faults?" Yes, others; but others, and perhaps of a less culpable nature.
When Maenius railed at Novius in his absence: "Hark ye," says a certain
person, "are you ignorant of yourself? or do you think to impose
yourself upon us a person we do not know?" "As for me, I forgive
myself," quoth Maenius. This is a foolish and impious self-love, and
worthy to be stigmatized. When you look over your own vices, winking at
them, as it were, with sore eyes; why are you with regard to those of
your friends as sharp-sighted as an eagle, or the Epidaurian serpent?
But, on the other hand, it is your lot that your friends should inquire
into your vices in turn. [A certain person] is a little too hasty in his
temper; not well calculated for the sharp-witted sneers of these men: he
may be made a jest of because his gown hangs awkwardly, he [at the same
time] being trimmed in a very rustic manner, and his wide shoe hardly
sticks to his foot. But he is so good, that no man can be better; but he
is your friend; but an immense genius is concealed under this unpolished
person of his. Finally, sift yourself thoroughly, whether nature has
originally sown the seeds of any vice in you, or even an ill-habit [has
done it]. For the fern, fit [only] to be burned, overruns the neglected
fields.
Let us return from our digression. As his mistress's disagreeable
failings escape the blinded lover, or even give him pleasure (as Hagna's
wen does to Balbinus), I could wish that we erred in this manner with
regard to friendship, and that virtue had affixed a reputable
appellation to such an error. And as a father ought not to contemn his
son, if he has any defect, in the same manner we ought not [to contemn]
our friend. The father calls his squinting boy a pretty leering rogue;
and if any man has a little despicable brat, such as the abortive
Sisyphus formerly was, he calls it a sweet moppet; this [child] with
distorted legs, [the father] in a fondling voice calls one of the Vari;
and another, who is club-footed, he calls a Scaurus. [Thus, does] this
friend of yours live more sparingly than ordinarily? Let him be styled a
man of frugality. Is another impertinent, and apt to brag a little? He
requires to be reckoned entertaining to his friends. But [another] is
too rude, and takes greater liberties than are fitting. Let him be
esteemed a man of sincerity and bravery. Is he too fiery, let him be
numbered among persons of spirit. This method, in my opinion, both
unites friends, and preserves them in a state of union. But we invert
the very virtues themselves, and are desirous of throwing dirt upon the
untainted vessel. Does a man of probity live among us? he is a person of
singular diffidence; we give him the name of a dull and fat-headed
fellow. Does this man avoid every snare, and lay himself open to no
ill-designing villain; since we live amid such a race, where keen envy
and accusations are flourishing? Instead of a sensible and wary man, we
call him a disguised and subtle fellow. And is any one more open, [and
less reserved] than usual in such a degree as I often have presented
myself to you, Maecenas, so as perhaps impertinently to interrupt a
person reading, or musing, with any kind of prate? We cry, "[this
fellow] actually wants common sense." Alas! how indiscreetly do we
ordain a severe law against ourselves! For no one Is born without vices:
he is the best man who is encumbered with the least. When my dear
friend, as is just, weighs my good qualities against my bad ones, let
him, if he is willing to be beloved, turn the scale to the majority of
the former (if I have indeed a majority of good qualities), on this
condition, he shall be placed in the same balance. He who requires that
his friend should not take offence at his own protuberances, will excuse
his friend's little warts. It is fair that he who entreats a pardon for
his own faults, should grant one in his turn.
Upon the whole, forasmuch as the vice anger, as well as others inherent
in foolish [mortals], cannot be totally eradicated, why does not human
reason make use of its own weights and measures; and so punish faults,
as the nature of the thing demands? If any man should punish with the
cross, a slave, who being ordered to take away the dish should gorge
the half-eaten fish and warm sauce; he would, among people in their
senses, be called a madder man than Labeo. How much more irrational and
heinous a crime is this! Your friend has been guilty of a small error
(which, unless you forgive, you ought to be reckoned a sour, ill-natured
fellow), you hate and avoid him, as a debtor does Ruso; who, when the
woful calends come upon the unfortunate man, unless he procures the
interest or capital by hook or by crook, is compelled to hear his
miserable stories with his neck stretched out like a slave. [Should my
friend] in his liquor water my couch, or has he thrown down a jar carved
by the hands of Evander: shall he for this [trifling] affair, or because
in his hunger he has taken a chicken before me out of my part of the
dish, be the less agreeable friend to me? [If so], what could I do if he
was guilty of theft, or had betrayed things committed to him in
confidence, or broken his word. They who are pleased [to rank all]
faults nearly on an equality, are troubled when they come to the truth
of the matter: sense and morality are against them, and utility itself,
the mother almost of right and of equity.
When [rude] animals, they crawled forth upon the first-formed earth, the
mute and dirty herd fought with their nails and fists for their acorn
and caves, afterward with clubs, and finally with arms which experience
had forged: till they found out words and names, by which they
ascertained their language and sensations: thenceforward they began to
abstain from war, to fortify towns, and establish laws: that no person
should be a thief, a robber, or an adulterer. For before Helen's time
there existed [many] a woman who was the dismal cause of war: but those
fell by unknown deaths, whom pursuing uncertain venery, as the bull in
the herd, the strongest slew. It must of necessity be acknowledged, if
you have a mind to turn over the aeras and anuals of the world, that
laws were invented from an apprehension of the natural injustice [of
mankind]. Nor can nature separate what is unjust from what is just, in
the same manner as she distinguishes what is good from its reverse, and
what is to be avoided from that which is to be sought, nor will reason
persuade men to this, that he who breaks down the cabbage-stalk of his
neighbor, sins in as great a measure, and in the same manner, as he who
steals by night things consecrated to the gods. Let there be a settled
standard, that may inflict adequate punishments upon crimes, lest you
should persecute any one with the horrible thong, who is only deserving
of a slight whipping. For I am not apprehensive, that you should correct
with the rod one that deserves to suffer severer stripes: since you
assert that pilfering is an equal crime with highway robbery, and
threaten that you would prune off with an undistinguishing hook little
and great vices, if mankind were to give you the sovereignty over them.
If he be rich, who is wise, and a good shoemaker, and alone handsome,
and a king, why do you wish for that which you are possessed of? You do
not understand what Chrysippus, the father [of your sect], says: "The
wise man never made himself shoes nor slippers: nevertheless, the wise
man is a shoemaker." How so? In the same manner, though Hermogenes be
silent, he is a fine singer, notwithstanding, and an excellent musician:
as the subtle [lawyer] Alfenus, after every instrument of his calling
was thrown aside, and his shop shut up, was [still] a barber; thus is
the wise man of all trades, thus is he a king. O greatest of great
kings, the waggish boys pluck you by the beard; whom unless you restrain
with your staff, you will be jostled by a mob all about you, and you may
wretchedly bark and burst your lungs in vain. Not to be tedious: while
you, my king, shall go to the farthing bath, and no guard shall attend
you, except the absurd Crispinus; my dear friends will both pardon me in
any matter in which I shall foolishly offend, and I in turn will
cheerfully put up with their faults; and though a private man, I shall
live more happily than you, a king.
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