SATIRE IX.
_He describes his sufferings from the loquacity of an impertinent
fellow._
I was accidentally going along the Via Sacra, meditating on some trifle
or other, as is my custom, and totally intent upon it. A certain person,
known to me by name only, runs up; and, having seized my hand, "How do
you do, my dearest fellow?" "Tolerably well," say I, "as times go; and I
wish you every thing you can desire." When he still followed me; "Would
you any thing?" said I to him. But, "You know me," says he: "I am a man
of learning." "Upon that account," says I: "you will have more of my
esteem." Wanting sadly to get away from him, sometimes I walked on
apace, now and then I stopped, and I whispered something to my boy. When
the sweat ran down to the bottom of my ankles. O, said I to myself,
Bolanus, how happy were you in a head-piece! Meanwhile he kept prating
on any thing that came uppermost, praised the streets, the city; and,
when I made him no answer; "You want terribly," said he, "to get away; I
perceived it long ago; but you effect nothing. I shall still stick close
to you; I shall follow you hence: Where are you at present bound for?"
"There is no need for your being carried so much about: I want to see a
person, who is unknown to you: he lives a great way off across the
Tiber, just by Caesar's gardens." "I have nothing to do, and I am not
lazy; I will attend you thither." I hang down my ears like an ass of
surly disposition, when a heavier load than ordinary is put upon his
back. He begins again: "If I am tolerably acquainted with myself, you
will not esteem Viscus or Varius as a friend, more than me; for who can
write more verses, or in a shorter time than I? Who can move his limbs
with softer grace [in the dance]? And then I sing, so that even
Hermogenes may envy."
Here there was an opportunity of interrupting him. "Have you a mother,
[or any] relations that are interested in your welfare?" "Not one have
I; I have buried them all." "Happy they! now I remain. Dispatch me: for
the fatal moment is at hand, which an old Sabine sorceress, having
shaken her divining urn, foretold when I was a boy; 'This child, neither
shall cruel poison, nor the hostile sword, nor pleurisy, nor cough, nor
the crippling gout destroy: a babbler shall one day demolish him; if he
be wise, let him avoid talkative people, as soon as he comes to man's
estate.'"
One fourth of the day being now passed, we came to Vesta's temple; and,
as good luck would have it, he was obliged to appear to his
recognizance; which unless he did, he must have lost his cause. "If you
love me," said he, "step in here a little." "May I die! if I be either
able to stand it out, or have any knowledge of the civil laws: and
besides, I am in a hurry, you know whither." "I am in doubt what I shall
do," said he; "whether desert you or my cause." "Me, I beg of you." "I
will not do it," said he; and began to take the lead of me. I (as it is
difficult to contend with one's master) follow him. "How stands it with
Maecenas and you?" Thus he begins his prate again. "He is one of few
intimates, and of a very wise way of thinking. No man ever made use of
opportunity with more cleverness. You should have a powerful assistant,
who could play an underpart, if you were disposed to recommend this man;
may I perish, if you should not supplant all the rest!" "We do not live
there in the manner you imagine; there is not a house that is freer or
more remote from evils of this nature. It is never of any disservice to
me, that any particular person is wealthier or a better scholar than I
am: every individual has his proper place." "You tell me a marvelous
thing, scarcely credible." "But it is even so." "You the more inflame my
desires to be near his person." "You need only be inclined to it: such
is your merit, you will accomplish it: and he is capable of being won;
and on that account the first access to him he makes difficult." "I will
not be wanting to myself: I will corrupt his servants with presents; if
I am excluded to-day, I will not desist; I will seek opportunities; I
will meet him in the public streets; I will wait upon him home. Life
allows nothing to mortals without great labor." While he was running on
at this rate, lo! Fuscus Aristius comes up, a dear friend of mine, and
one who knows the fellow well. We make a stop. "Whence come you? whither
are you going?" he asks and answers. I began to twitch him [by the
elbow], and to take hold of his arms [that were affectedly] passive,
nodding and distorting my eyes, that he might rescue me. Cruelly arch
he laughs, and pretends not to take the hint: anger galled my liver.
"Certainly," [said I, "Fuscus,] you said that you wanted to communicate
something to me in private." "I remember it very well; but will tell it
you at a better opportunity: to-day is the thirtieth sabbath. Would you
affront the circumcised Jews?" I reply, "I have no scruple [on that
account]." "But I have: I am something weaker, one of the multitude. You
must forgive me: I will speak with you on another occasion." And has
this sun arisen so disastrous upon me! The wicked rogue runs away, and
leaves me under the knife. But by luck his adversary met him: and,
"Whither are you going, you infamous fellow?" roars he with a loud
voice: and, "Do you witness the arrest?" I assent. He hurries him into
court: there is a great clamor on both sides, a mob from all parts. Thus
Apollo preserved me.
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