Part 3 (1/2)
If a bird's feathers I see Progne take, If I see Cadmus slide into a snake, My faith revolts; and I condemn outright The fool that shews me such a silly sight.
Let not your play have fewer _acts_ than _five_, Nor _more_, if you would wish it run and thrive!
_Draw down no G.o.d_, unworthily betray'd, Unless some great occasion ask his aid!
Let no _fourth person_, labouring for a speech, Make in the dialogue a needless breach!
An actor's part the Chorus should sustain, Gentle in all its office, and humane; Chaunting no Odes between the acts, that seem Unapt, or foreign to the general theme.
Let it to Virtue prove a guide and friend, Curb tyrants, and the humble good defend!
Ille dapes laudet mensae brevis, ille salubrem Just.i.tiam, legesque, et apertis otia portis: Ille tegat commisia, Deosque precetur et oret, Ut redeat miseris, abeat fortuna superbis.
Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalco vincta, tubaeque aemula; sed tenuis, simplexque foramine pauco, Aspirare et adesse choris erat utilis, atque Nondum sp.i.s.sa nimis complere sedilia flatu: Quo fane populus numerabilis, utpote parvus Et frugi castusque verecundusque coibat.
Postquam coepit agros extendere victor, et urbem Laxior amplecti murus, vinoque diurno Placari Genius sestis impune diebus,
Loud let it praise the joys that Temperance waits; Of Justice sing, the real health of States; The Laws; and Peace, secure with open gates!
Faithful and secret, let it heav'n invoke To turn from the unhappy fortune's stroke, And all its vengeance on the proud provoke!
_The Pipe_ of old, as yet with bra.s.s unbound, Nor rivalling, as now, the Trumpet's sound, But slender, simple, and its stops but few, Breath'd to the Chorus; and was useful too: For feats extended, and extending still, Requir'd not pow'rful blasts their s.p.a.ce to fill; When the thin audience, pious, frugal, chaste, With modest mirth indulg'd their sober taste.
But soon as the proud Victor spurns all bounds, And growing Rome a wider wall surrounds; When noontide cups, and the diurnal bowl, Licence on holidays a flow of soul; Accessit numerisque modisque licentia major.
Indoctus quid enim saperet liberque laborum, Rusticus urbano confusus, turpis honesto?
Sic priscae motumque et luxuriem addidit arti Tibicen, traxitque vagus per pulpita vestem: Sic etiam fidibus voces crevere feveris, Et tulit eloquium insolitum facundia praeceps; Utiliumque sagax rerum, et divina futuri, Sortilegis non discrepuit sententia Delphis.
Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hirc.u.m, Mox etiam agrestes Satyros nudavit, et asper Incolumi gravitate joc.u.m tentavit: e quod A richer stream of melody is known, Numbers more copious, and a fuller tone.
----For what, alas! could the unpractis'd ear Of rusticks, revelling o'er country cheer, A motley groupe! high, low; and froth, and sc.u.m; Distinguish but shrill squeak, and dronish hum?---- The Piper, grown luxuriant in his art, With dance and flowing vest embellishes his part!
Now too, its pow'rs increas'd, _the Lyre severe_ With richer numbers smites the list'ning ear: Sudden bursts forth a flood of rapid song, Rolling a tide of eloquence along: Useful, prophetic, wise, the strain divine Breathes all the spirit of the Delphick shrine.
He who the prize, a filthy goat, to gain, At first contended in the tragick strain, Soon too--tho' rude, the graver mood unbroke,-- Stript the rough satyrs, and essay'd a joke: Illecebris erat et grata novitate morandus Spectator functusque sacris, et potus, et exlex.
Verum ita risores, ita commendare dicaces Conveniet Satyros, ita vertere seria ludo; Ne quicunque Deus, quicunque adhibebi tur heros [sic]
Regali conspectus in auro nuper et ostro, Migret in obscuras humili sermone tabernas Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes et inania captet [sic]
Effutire leves indigna tragoedia versus, Ut festis matrona moveri jussa diebus, Intererit Satyris paulum pudibunda protervis.
Non ego inornata et dominantia nomina solum Verbaque, Pisones, Satyrorum scriptor amabo Nec sic enitar tragico differre colori, For holiday-spectators, flush'd, and wild, With new conceits, and mummeries, were beguil'd.
Yet should the Satyrs so chastise their mirth, Temp'ring the jest that gives their sallies birth; Changing from grave to gay, so keep the mean, That G.o.d or Heroe of the lofty scene, In royal gold and purple seen but late, May ne'er in cots obscure debase his state, Lost in low language; nor in too much care To shun the ground, grasp clouds, and empty air.
With an indignant pride, and coy disdain, Stern Tragedy rejects too light a vein: Like a grave Matron, destin'd to advance On solemn festivals to join the dance, Mixt with the s.h.a.ggy tribe of Satyrs rude, She'll hold a sober mien, and act the prude.
Let me not, Pisos, in the Sylvan scene, Use abject terms alone, and phrases mean; Nor of high Tragick colouring afraid, Neglect too much the difference of shade!
Ut nihil intersit Davusne loquatur et audax Pythias emuncto lucrata Simone talentum, An custos famulusque Dei Silenus alumni.
Ex noto fictum carmen sequar: ut sibi quivis Speret idem; sudet multum, frustraque laboret Ausus idem: tantum series juncturaque pollet: Tantum de medio sumtis accedit honoris.
Silvis deducti caveant, me judice, Fauni, Ne velut innati triviis, ac pene forenses, Aut nimium teneris juvenentur versibus umquam, Aut immunda crepent ignominiosaque dicta.
Offenduntur enim, quibus est equus, et pater, et res; Nec, si quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emtor, Aequis accipiunt animis, donantve corona.
Davus may jest, pert Pythias may beguile Simo of cash, in a familiar style; The same low strain Silenus would disgrace, Servant and guardian of the G.o.dlike race.
Let me on subjects known my verse so frame, So follow it, that each may hope the same; Daring the same, and toiling to prevail, May vainly toil, and only dare to fail!
Such virtues order and connection bring, From common arguments such honours spring.
The woodland Fauns their origin should heed, Take no town stamp, nor seem the city breed: Nor let them, aping young gallants, repeat Verses that run upon too tender feet; Nor fall into a low, indecent stile, Breaking dull jests to make the vulgar smile!
For higher ranks such ribaldry despise, Condemn the Poet, and withhold the prize.
Syllaba longa brevi subjecta, vocatur Iambus, Pes citus: unde etiam Trimetris accrescere jussit Nomen Iambeis, c.u.m senos redderet ictus Primus ad extremum similis sibi; non ita pridem, Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad aures, Spondeos stabiles in jura paterna recepit Commodus et patiens: non ut de sede secunda Cederet, aut quarta socialiter. Hic et in Acci n.o.bilibus Trimetris apparet rarus, et Enni.
In scenam missus c.u.m magno pondere versus, Aut operae celeris nimium curaque carentis, Aut ignoratae premit artis crimine turpi.